Simple Crème Fraîche

I was super excited to be baking something for SHF. It would be my first event as a food blogger, and I had those first-day-of-school jitters as I prepped the recipe I had planned. Would it be edible? Would it look good? What were the other kids doing with their decorations?

As I began my foray into the event, it soon became clear that for me, the spolight was not going to be on my oh-so-cute mini cookies, but instead the crème fraîche. I had never made it before, and as a recent cross-country mover, I lack many standard kitchen appliances, utensils, and aids. What if I needed to do something incredibly high tech and convoluted to create this creamy, silky, nutty crème?

Rest assured, kitchenmates. Creating the crème fraîche is apparantly simple as encouraging the helpful bacteria to sour. After some poking around, a common recipe emerged: cream and buttermilk. I picked up both at the dairy, athrill with the idea of chemistry at work, and headed home to test this out.

My first roadblock was the innocuous labeling on my heavy whipping cream- the only whipping cream avaliable at the store. "Ultrapastuerized". No! Not ultra! The whole point was less pastuerization! Sometimes American dairy laws can be a bit on the frustrating side, eh? One site assured me that ultrapastuerized was okay, it just might take a little longer to set. It turns out that they were right- even without the extra time, ultrapastuerized was just fine.



In my research, I kept coming across two methods of thought for crafting crème fraîche; one was to warm the cream, then add the buttermilk. The other was to mix the two (without warming). I decided to test both methods and see which turned out the best. Several recipes also called for more buttermilk, while others called for less. I added a little extra to recipe #2, and also stored it in a plastic container with a lid (lid ajar) while recipe #1 was in a humble bowl, loosely covered with saran wrap. Then it was time to wait.

24 hours later, and it was clear there was an obvious winner. The cream and buttermilk I had combined without warming had thickened superbly, and was a lovely eggshell white in the plastic container. The other attempt however, refused to set even after additional hours were added to its time. It remained liquidy, with a runny layer on top. Dolloping my mini pumpkin cookies with the crème, I couldn't help but sneak a few bites. Later, I tried it in the tomato soup, and I am now plotting several winter soups with this addition. Until then, however, practice making simple crème fraîche on your own.

1 cup heavy cream (just pastuerized is best, but in a pinch, ultra-pasteurized will work)

2 Tablespoons buttermilk (I am inclined to think that 1 1/2 will work a bit better, but until I try that, I know for certain that 2 tablespoons works fine.)

Combine cream and buttermilk, and place in a glass jar, or small plastic containter. Set in a quiet area, at room temperature, and leave the lid slightly ajar. Let sit 24 hours, or until crème fraîche is thick. Once set, stir the crème fraîche, and refrigerate, up to 10 days.

Salad Days

Tomato days have finally ended, and the end of summer goes with. The best thing about a tomato garden steps from my front door is obviously the ease of which I can incorporate this tangy tempting fruit into my everyday eating. Want to scramble some diced tomato in my eggs? Just step outside. Grill a few with dinner? Right there. A quick rinse, and these babies are good to go.



Sadly, as the evenings draw up closer and a chill creeps into the air, the plants slow on their supply, the fruit ripening and dropping quickly as if in a rush to bed down for the winter. In honour of the last days of these delicious additions to my summer consumption, I'll share with you my favourite tomato recipe.

There are endless recipes that incorporate the humble tomato, and many many varieties of tomato to compliment said recipes. For simplicity's sake we'll use the tomato that's most commonly found in my kitchen- the unassuming cherry tomato. A little smaller and sweeter than most tomatoes, I like their quiet, simple attitude.

These tomatoes in particular are superb for canning and sauces, especially when paired with a slightly spicy (instead of just garlic) flavour, such as roasted chili oil. In this case however, we're skipping the oils, the buffalo mozzarella, the hours of stewing and saucing. This recipe will be ready in mere moments, and it's without a doubt the best way to eat a tomato off the vine.

Ingredients

3-4 small tomatoes, freshly picked
salt
pepper

Halve the tomatoes, and arrange on a plate. Sprinkle liberally with salt. Add the merest dash of pepper.

That's it. Salt and pepper on tomatoes. Many times the pepper is even optional, I use it more for an eye-pleasing technique than actual flavour. The salt brings out the sweet burst of tomato goodness, a taste that plays like a child in your mouth. A snack of tomatoes is such a refreshing pick-me-up, something that always makes me smile. I'm sure that come next year, when the red globes begin to ripen once more (and possibly even before-fried green tomatoes, anyone?) I'll be cracking open my cookbooks to find extensive use for them. For now though, I'm quite content with this very simple, yet utterly fulfilling treat.