When I was a child, my favorite flavor was red. If pressed to be specific, I always said my favorite was cherry.
When I became a man I put away childish things, but I still love cherries. At this time of year, when they are so abundant, I can never quite get the stains of cherry juice off my fingers.
Cherries are sweet, of course, and they make basically any dessert better. But they also can be part of savory dishes, too _ they add a hint of cherry magic that accentuates the savoriness of the other ingredients. And they are reason enough to order an old fashioned, a Manhattan or an amaretto sour.
So with red-stained hands, I raised a Manhattan to toast cherries, the most glorious of summer glories. And then I made a bunch of dishes that have cherries in them.
I began with Cherry Chipotle Chili, and not entirely because of the alliteration. I was instantly intrigued by the addition of sweet cherries to the spice and the smokiness of the chipotle peppers. I thought the classic combination of sweetness, smoke and heat _ think of a spicy barbecue with a sweet, tomato-based sauce _ might be good.
I had no idea. This may be my new favorite way to make chili.
At least, that's how I felt on the second day. It was also pretty good when I first made it, but the sweetness of the cherries was a bit assertive; it stood out from the smooth blend of the other flavors.
But by the next day, the cherries had had a chance to mellow and join the assembly of tastes. On the second day, you get just a hint of sweetness and the flavor of cherries was happily assimilated into the whole.
This is a chili recipe to keep.
I stayed in the savory realm with my second dish, Grilled Pork Tenderloin With Cherry Salsa. Pork and cherries are a natural combination, and I liked the fact that the cherries would come in the form of a chunky sauce.
I was also attracted to the recipe by the fact that the tenderloin is marinated briefly before grilling. Marinating a tenderloin is never necessary, but it doesn't hurt. This marinade has the bite of lime juice mixed with shallots, along with plenty of cilantro.
Those ingredients are also featured in the salsa, along with the freshness of cherries and a bit of pepper for extra punch. The salsa is great on its own _ one taste-tester said she wanted to make it to serve with tortilla chips _ but here it also amplifies everything that is so wonderful about grilled pork tenderloin.
For my first sweet dish, I made a pastry that is not too sweet, despite its name. Sweet Cherry-Filled Buns are a type of vatrushka, a bun that is popular in Russia and Ukraine. In other parts of Central Europe, it would be called a kolache or something similar. It is kind of like a danish, in fact, only the dough is less sweet.
Vatrushki are usually filled with farmers' cheese, but they are also often filled with fruit. That's where the cherries come in. Why use any other fruit when there are cherries?
These buns are made with yeast, so they rise three times. That makes them deliciously puffy without being too dense. The filling is just cherries with sugar sprinkled on top, and they have a crumb topping for a little extra richness.
My last sweet dish was cherries jubilee. Of course it was cherries jubilee. You can't write about cooking with cherries unless you make cherries jubilee. Everybody loves cherries jubilee.
And to the best of my recollection, I had never actually had cherries jubilee before. And neither had the people who tasted it. It must be one of those hugely popular dishes that no one has eaten since 1979.
Now that I've made it, I don't understand why it has disappeared from menus. It's easy to make, it tastes great and it catches on fire. What's not to love?
Plus, it has ice cream.
The recipe dates back to the most august of all chefs, Auguste Escoffier, who created it in 1897 for Queen Victoria's Diamond Jubilee, her 60th year as sovereign.
Escoffier's original recipe calls for cherries to be poached in a simple syrup. The syrup is then thickened, and hot kirsch (a cherry brandy) is poured over it and set aflame.
The modern version is not much different. The syrup is now buttery and no longer thickened, and if you do not have kirsch you can use ordinary brandy. Orange zest and a hefty splash of fresh orange juice add a citrus zing that lightens the sauce, and of course it is now served on ice cream.
The flames? They are just the cherry on the sundae.
