I recently bought two litres of gin, thinking I was being unusually well-organised in preparation for an abundance of sloes. Abundance? Talk about counting my chickens! After the past two years’ generous production, the blackthorns (typically for their family, prunus) have simultaneously gone on strike - and there’s barely a sloe to be found in the valley.
However, we shan’t forgo a fruity winter warmer, as Jim turned up a recipe for crab-apple brandy. We duly stuffed a jar full of quartered crabs, (Malus ‘Dartmouth’, with large red fruit), filled up the spaces with cheepo brandy, and after leaving the contents to steep for a week, strained the liquid, and gave it a taste. The recipe suggested adding brown sugar, but neither of us felt it needed any sweetener. Nothing short of delicious, and beautifully amber-coloured, our ‘cider brandy’ does have one drawback - its smoothness belies formidable strength.
And then what to do with the boozy, crab quarters? Reluctant to waste such potential on the compost heap (and worried that pigs or chickens might do themselves mischief), I resolved to simmer them with a drop of added water, mash them and hang them overnight, dripping through muslin into a pan.
Disappointed the next morning by the paltry pool of liquid, I squeezed the bag with all my might – never mind if the jelly turned cloudy. Still somewhat under-whelmed by a mere single jar’s worth, I boiled it with sugar, and in no time at all it was actually setting in the pan. I poured the gloop out into a bowl, and always up for an experiment, squeezed in half an orange and stirred.
Once my jelly had cooled, the flavour was a triumph - wild-tasting apple, overlaced with orange, as fruitiness subsided, brandy took its place. The texture however was slightly too rubbery, not quite as firm as raw jelly cubes, but too solid to spread on toast.
Carried away now (I love to play in the kitchen – shame washing up isn’t such fun), I took plain Green and Black chocolate, and set it to melt over a pan of hot water. I then cut the jelly into rough oblongs, and when the chocolate was ready, dipped them and put them to harden on a greaseproof paper-lined tray.
What can I say? The slightly bitter chocolate shell cracks, and the tender sweetness of the jelly melts in your mouth… I can’t begin to do justice with words - just suffice to say that next Sunday has been earmarked for a second batch on a sinfully large-scale.
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