Please allow me to go on about the autumnal photograph above. It contains many of my favorite elements. Front and center, there is a little Bundt cake, my new favorite still-life object, the copper pitcher, a fall-colored bouquet in an antique pineapple pitcher, colorful dried corncobs, a pumpkin, a spray of rosehips in a Gladding, McBean tumbler, all displayed in front of my grandfather Pat’s painting of my grandmother. It all looks beautiful together, but the collection also represents things that bring me joy: gardening, baking, decorating, drawing, seasonality, and living with family heirlooms.
The practice of home-keeping has gone in and out of fashion. It hasn’t always been optional, of course. Currently, home-keeping or homesteading is trending upwards. Bakers and crafters usually practice at home which adds a cozy distraction from and to the housework. The little kitchen here is usually cleaned up and ready for either of us to get in there, cooking or baking. In autumn and winter months, the scent of something spicy baking in the oven adds to the warmth of the house as much as pumpkins and gourds decorating the sideboard.
Did anyone put up any summer garden produce? Any jams, jellies, pickles, or preserves? It is lovely to have home-canned goods stockpiled in the pantry, but I confess that by autumn, I have given away most of my sweet preserves. I still have some frozen apricot halves and a few jars of pickled okra, but that’s about it. I do love to gift marmalades and jams that friends look forward to each year.
As every year, as soon as the weather gets even slightly less hot, I’m ready to start thinking about my fall baking. Thanksgiving desserts are a pleasant place to start. This year, I thought I would start by reading up on that first feast with the Pilgrims and the Wampanoag tribe of Native Americans. There were no Thanksgiving desserts as we know them today, but it is good to review what was there. Interestingly, I found dried wild black currants, served alongside the squash and cranberries.
I have been interested in currants since I found tiny, beautiful, fresh red currants at a fancy produce stand. Fresh currants are in season late spring through early summer. They are small and jewel-like, making ideal garnishes for tiny afternoon tea desserts such as petit fours and other small pastries. Unfortunately, that was the first and last time I saw them. I planted a currant bush variety the color of pink champagne, similar to the one shown above right, hoping to have a supply of my own gorgeous fruit in the spring. The baby currant bush struggled mightily for two years, finally succumbing to our dreaded summer heat. Too late, I read that currant bushes grow best in zones 3-8, Redding being in zone 9. If you would like to try your luck and happily live in a zone between 3-8, Raintree Nursery sometimes has the champagne pink variety.
Every now and then I try to locate dried currants to use in traditional British recipes. In my local grocery stores, I have only found dried Zante grapes labeled as currants. I even asked about dried currants at the Sun*Maid company store, in Kingsburg, California, near Fresno, but their “currants” are also Zante grapes. So, if black currants are native to North America, where are the actual black currants?
According to Greg Quinn of Walnut Grove Farm in Staatsburg, New York, “In 1911, the federal government banned the growing of black and red currants when the logging industry put pressure on lawmakers to eliminate them because they were thought to be an intermediate host of white pine blister rust.” Determined to grow currants on his farm, he worked with Cornell University’s Cooperative Extension, getting a grant to uncover the faulty science behind the over 100-year-old ban. His work eventually led to overturning the ban in New York State. Several other states including Oregon, Illinois, and Minnesota have also overturned the ban and have some version of commercial currant farming
Walnut Grove Farmhouse
I love this kind of specifically focused weird guy story! Along with dried black currants that I ordered from Currant C, his website, also available are frozen red and black currants, black currant concentrate, black currant nectar, and some no sugar added products. As currants are usually quite tart, I’m not sure I am into the sugar-free preserves but I should keep an open mind.
In my further currant research, I ran across a recipe from Amy Traverso, who Dad and I like to watch on Weekends with Yankee, on our local PBS station. Amy uses dried black currants in a suggested Thanksgiving salad, bringing our native currant full circle, back to that first feast. I am a big fan of green salads at Thanksgiving, and this one features watercress which grew wild around the Pilgrim’s settlement. The tart mustard vinaigrette gives diners a little break from all the heavy dishes and rich sauces, though I have no objection to some fun fruit additions. Check out the recipe here: Watercress & Currant Salad
Back at my currant research, I was intrigued by a beautiful photograph of currant-studded soul cakes, a plain, flattish disc that I would call a cookie, described as a cross between a biscuit (British cookie) and a scone. As the texture of scones is one of their defining features, I wondered how a mash-up of cookies and scones would go.
Soul cakes are made with pantry staples, so I baked up a batch substituting chopped dried apricots and golden raisins for the currants. They are a plain cookie, closer in texture to sugar cookies than a scone but subtly spiced and ultimately quite enjoyable. They are perfect with a cup of tea, and they are the kind of cookie which keeps extremely well when stored in an airtight container, ideally a vintage cookie tin. Many British recipes call for dried currants which are quite common in Britain and Europe. When I receive my shipment of dried black currants from Greg, at Walnut Grove Farm, I will make another batch to compare.
Why are they called soul cakes? Apparently, as a precursor to Halloween, folks in Olde Britain went from house to house on All Souls Day, asking for spiced ale and cakes to offer prayers for departed loved ones. I had heard of All Souls Day but did not know they had their own special treat. I called on my trusted expert of all things historically religious, Aunt Rose, to give us a quick refresher on this group of intertwined holidays.
“All Souls’ Day November 2, (Dia de Los Muertos) is the day after All Saints Day, November 1, in the Catholic Liturgical Calendar. Its official title is The Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed. On this day we remember, celebrate and honor all our dead loved ones whose souls we believe are still living in the world of the spirit. It is appropriate that all Souls Day follows All Saints Day, as we believe that every person is born with the potential for sainthood, whether they are officially canonized or not.” So, now we know, thank you, dear Rose.
Back to the beautiful photo of the soul cakes. Karen Burns-Booth is the force behind Lavender and Lovage website, cookbook, and Instagram account. Though originally from South Africa and having lived many places abroad, she has settled in the Lincolnshire Wolds, which is an official British AONB, or Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty. (I love the British habit of quantifying everything; I once stood somewhere in the Lake District, in front of a plaque that read: “The Best View in Britain.” Who decides that?) Anyhow, Lavender and Lovage is a beautiful and fascinating website, and I encourage all our readers to take a peek.You are in for a treat.
Little Cakes for All Souls Eve (Soul Cakes)
I rewrote Karen’s recipe for American bakers, providing measurements in cups, though I did weigh my ingredients in ounces. The dough consistency should be slightly drier than a scone but not quite as dry as sugar cookie dough.
Note: the original British recipe calls for “mixed spice” which I’ve seen many times in traditional British baking recipes. I did a little sleuthing and found that many different spices can be included in the mix, most commonly cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg, mace, cloves, ginger, and coriander. Feel free to use whatever blend you like, as long as cinnamon is the dominate flavor.
Makes about 2 dozen 3” cakes
Special equipment: medium bowl, mixer bowl, hand or stand mixer, silicone spatula, sifter or sieve, rolling pin, 3” round cookie cutter, knife or bench scraper, 1 or 2 baking sheets lined with a silicone mat or parchment paper, cooling rack
Preheat oven to 375 degrees F
1 pound (approx. 3 2/3 cups) flour, plus more for rolling
1 ½ teaspoons cinnamon
½ teaspoon mace
½ teaspoon nutmeg
¼ teaspoon salt
6 ounces (1 ½ sticks) butter, softened
6 ounces (3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons) sugar
3 egg yolks
4 ounces (approx. ½ cup) dried currants or raisins
2-3 tablespoons milk to mix
- Sift or sieve flour, spices, and salt into medium bowl. Set aside.
- In mixer bowl, beat butter and sugar, until incorporated and lighter in color, about 3 minutes. Beat in the yolks, one at a time, scraping down sides as necessary. Stir in the flour mixture. Stir in the currants and enough milk to make a soft dough, similar to a scone dough.
- On floured surface, roll out dough to a uniform thickness of about 1/4 inch. Cut out 3” circles with cutter and place 1” apart on prepared baking sheets. With knife or bench scraper, make a cross on each soul cake. Repeat until all dough is used, rerolling scraps as needed.
- Bake the cakes for 15 to 18 minutes, until golden brown, rotating pans halfway through baking time. Cool in pan a few minutes, then transfer to cooling rack to cool completely. Store in airtight container, preferably a cute cookie tin, up to a week, at least.
How fabulous is Karen Burn-Booth’s royal cookie Tin
