Plum Crumble Bars

Growing up, my grandma and grandpa lived about five blocks away from our house, and they had the best backyard.  They had a big above-ground pool with a great deck, a little sandbox with an awning, a lovely fenced in garden, and both flowering and fruit trees.  The yard wasn't big, but it was wonderful.     

Italian plums.

One of the trees they had the most beautiful pink flowers in the spring, another tree had a trunk and branches that were perfect for climbing, but one of my favorite trees was the plum tree.  It had delicate, thin branches with lush leaves, and the drops of ripening fruit were so temping.  By the time they were ready to pick, the deep purple maroon color belied the green flesh underneath at just a few spots, and the blue waxy sheen was enticing.  When they were barely ripe and tender we could pick them and eat them, but they were more tart than sweet - after a little longer, they were 'over-ripe' but definitely at their sweetest.  My grandma used to slice them up and bake them on a yeast dough as a treat for us, and it was something I looked forward to every year.       

Pale flesh of sliced red plums. 

I have tried to replicate her recipe a few times, with varied success, so in the fall I usually just send up baking plums into simple crumbles or cakes, or I use them for cooking in savory dishes.  Although Italian plums are definitely my favorite (I think it is a combination of taste and size mixed in with a little nostagia), I really love all plums including red and black ones.    

Red plums, sliced for baking into bars. 

This fall, I was tempted to do something else with with my plums - make crumble bars.  I was inspired by a peach shortbread recipe that I tried from Smitten Kitchen last summer, and though I did like it, the bars didn't have nearly enough fruit for my taste.  Not to mention, her recipe called for browning the butter, and although we can all hail queen Browned Butter, it didn't really do it for me in this recipe and just seemed like a fussy extra step.  Then this year I saw a recipe for peach crumb bars with hazelnut streusel by my friend Dara from Cookin Canuck. The amount of fruit in her bars was definitely up to my standards, but she peeled the peaches before baking (and has a great tutorial on how to do it) and I really didn't want to do that much work this time.  Plus, I love the way the skin of the fruit stains the crumble bars a deep pink color so I wanted to leave them on.

My Mom's Cranberry Relish

Last month, I had planned to make my pocket pies with cranberry pear filling and I wanted to use fresh cranberries.  Imagine my dismay when I realized that I was one whole month too early for the arrival of these beautiful red beauties at my local grocery store.  I put on my best pouty face, grabbed some dried cranberries, and made damn good pocket pies anyway.  (And might I add, these pies would be the perfect addition to your Thanksgiving dinner table!) 


But now, Thanksgiving is finally upon us and the season for fresh cranberries is officially here.  For me, seeing these cranberries means it is really the holidays.  They smile at me with their bright crimson faces and give me the red light to fully immerse myself in Thanksgiving and Christmas preparations.  So prepare yourselves.  I might get a little crazy.

This is the best nutmeg grater ever.  It is the same one that my grandma uses, and she got me mine from Amish country in Ohio; this nutmeg grater from Norpro looks exactly the same (and is less than $5), and also has the small compartment on top for storing the nutmeg like mine does.  LOVE it.   

Seeing cranberries also makes me think of my mom.  No, she isn't small, red, and round, but she makes me happy too.  Mostly I think of my mom because I grew up eating her cranberry relish every year at Thanksgiving and I loved it.  Excuse me, saying I 'loved' it makes it sound past tense - I love it, as in I swoon over it each time I make it.  When I still lived at home, we would fight over it and eat it on/with everything, or just by itself.  It is cranberry greatness.

And really, the recipe couldn't be more simple.  In my book, the perfect way to worship cranberries is to marry them with a heady mix of spices and just the right amount of sugar; not too much sweetness as to disguise the cranberry, but just enough to dull the sharp tart taste.  One of my other favorite components of this recipe are the big golden raisins and the crunch of the chopped pecans.  I like my applesauce chunky, and my cranberry relish even chunkier; it lets me know there are real ingredients in there and it is not over-processed.  If you like your relish smooth, I would normally just tell you to go ahead and throw in a blender or food processor, but frankly, that is blasphemy in my eyes so we will just pretend I didn't even mention it. 

Instead, I will just leave you with this lovely, crimson, traditional Thanksgiving recipe, and tell you that I hope you love it as much as I do.  And you can thank my mom for the recipe, I make sure to thank her each year when I make it myself.     

My Mom's Cranberry Relish

3/4 cup apple juice
1/2-3/4 cup sugar
1/4 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp nutmeg
pinch of ground cloves
3 cups fresh cranberries (12 oz.)
1/2-3/4 cup light or golden raisins
1/2 cup roughly chopped pecans






Combine the first four ingredients in a medium saucepan and stir over medium heat until the sugar dissolves.  Add the cranberries, raisins and cloves, bring to a boil, and then reduce heat.  Cook until the cranberries pop, then add pecans and stir to mix.  Remove from heat and let cool slightly before serving.  Keep refrigerated in an airtight container for 1 week.