Fruit

Years ago, during my catering days, we served a Tsingtao beer sorbet in hollowed-out lemon halves for a Chinese New Year celebration. I remembered the idea recently as I brainstormed potential desserts for a Tex-Mex dinner. If it’s good with Chinese beer, it ought to be better with a Tex-Mex beer, I reasoned. I grabbed a couple of Coronas and a handful of limes and went to work. Corona Sorbet starred at my next party and it was everything I’d hoped—lively and refreshing, sweet and tangy, just the sort of dessert I crave after a Tex-Mex feast.

When I brought this cake to a last-minute dinner, my hosts, Mary and Marshall Cunningham, loved it so much they begged me to take the remainder home. “Don’t leave it here,” they pleaded. “We’ll eat it. We’ll probably eat it for breakfast.” A simple vanilla cake with a layer of tart Key lime curd and a blanket of lightly sweetened whipped cream, Mary dubbed it “the perfect cake for spring or summer.”

My old friend David Garrido, a supremely talented chef, came up with a fresh take on mole that combines guajillo chiles with fresh basil, bananas, and dates to create a lively, fruit-sweetened sauce that marries beautifully with chicken. I love this dish for a relaxed but elegant dinner party at home. Skinny bi***es take note: the dish contains little fat, lots of flavor.

I’m always trying to get Rosa to make chiles rellenos for the bakery’s lunch special. Customers love them and they always sell out. But they are messy and a lot of work. Even after you’ve roasted and peeled the chiles and finished making the meat filling, you’re only halfway there: they still need dipping in egg-white batter, individual deep-frying, and an immediate mouth to feed, because nobody likes cold chiles rellenos. I complained about this to Yvonne Bowden, a favorite party-throwing partner. She told me about a relleno casserole that bypassed the deep fryer. It’s still a lot of work, but the casserole configuration is more party friendly. We worked on the dish together and Fiesta Chiles Rellenos were born. Serve with small bowls of Beans a la Charra (page 150).

Here’s an all-around bar that goes anywhere with ease. I’ve taken it to school dinners, church suppers, and outdoor picnics. The almond paste adds a distinctive dimension that gives the bars a touch of exotic appeal. Canned almond paste can be purchased at most grocery stores. Make sure you buy almond paste, not its similar cousin, marzipan. Food authorities do not always agree on the exact difference between the two, but generally speaking almond paste contains a higher ratio of ground almonds to sugar than marzipan.

Everyone makes zucchini bread, but somehow it feels so blah to bring another loaf of this admittedly delicious stuff to a potluck. Here’s a new take on the old theme, using butternut squash, which lends a golden hue and a delicate flavor to the bread. Large loaves, which can be sliced on-site, work beautifully as potluck fare. Wrapped mini loaves tied with ribbons and adorned with handwritten tags make memorable party favors. For family reunions, spell out the family name, the date, and the reunion site, such as “Wright Family Reunion, May 2009, Elderville Churchyard.” Just about any event, from wedding showers and baptisms to graduations and birthday parties, can be commemorated this way, leaving guests with a nonperishable memento that can be saved in scrapbooks long after the last scrap of bread disappears.

I first tasted Ralph Watterson’s Six Rivers Tuna last year when he and his group of bicycling buddies passed through Frederickburgs on a four-day cycling trip. His tuna provides hearty lunches for the group as they cover 300 miles and cross six rivers on their annual spring cycling trip. I asked for the recipe, which he described as his mother’s version, plus a few embellishments of his own. I made it, tried it out at the bakery, and our tuna sandwich sales skyrocketed. Ralph’s Six Rivers Tuna is now a part of our regular menu. Given its proven track record as a recipe that travels, I figured it would be great for an outdoor picnic or a potluck. On bike trips, Ralph says he often serves it with crackers. I wanted something more substantial and created a soft, honey-kissed roll that when split and filled with tuna makes a memorable and satisfying sandwich that travels with ease.

When I’ve got a crowd to feed and a tight budget, I turn to rice salad. I love its versatility: Simply add meat or shellfish for a heartier dish, but omit them for vegetarians. Sometimes I divide the rice mixture into two serving bowls before adding meat or shellfish, reserving one for my non-meat eating friends. It’s hard to beat homemade mayonnaise, which tastes fresher and richer than the commercial stuff. I’ve included a recipe for the mayonnaise we use at Rather Sweet Bakery & Café.

The fading sun, an ocean breeze, a pitcher of mojitos waiting in the fridge. Open the door, fill the ice bucket, and let the party begin. Invented in Cuba and beloved by many, the rum-based mojito is an inherently festive drink. Friend and colleague cocktail specialist David Alan has created this refreshing watermelon mojito and thoughtfully devised a shortcut to reduce the workload for even the most laid-back party throwers. Preparing the base drink ahead makes it easy to crank out drinks quickly. Adding the club soda at the last minute ensures that all drinks retain the proper level of fizz. So before you set out for the beach, muddle the mint leaves, lime juice, sweetener, and rum in a large pitcher. Stow it in the refrigerator along with several bottles of soda water and a bowl of peeled, seeded, and chunk-up watermelon. Leave a dozen or so eight-ounce Collins glasses on the kitchen counter and when you arrive home with your friends—dazzled and thirsty from a day in the sun—chilly, refreshing mojitos are just moments away.

I know it’s tough to keep things fresh in the salt air, but my favorite cousin’s pineapple Bundt cake stays delectably moist for days—even at the beach. Sometimes I make it ahead and tote it to the beach; other times I make it there and keep it on hand. Who knows when we might be inspired to host a last-minute party? My cousin Vicki has been making this cake forever. She still bakes it in her grandmother Hille’s cast-iron Bundt pan, which she inherited along with a boxful of prized family recipes. Vicki says, “Every time I make this cake I feel like my grandmother is watching over me.”

While most of my friends are foodies, David Alan’s central focus is liquid refreshment. A coffee distributor by trade, he devotes most of his free time to the art of the cocktail. He writes a witty, drink-packed blog called Tipsy Texan. I asked him to create a couple of drinks for my backyard garden party. Both are beautiful to look at and delicious enough to be dangerous. The drinks are tastiest made one at a time and enjoyed immediately. If you are throwing a party with a spouse or partner, suggest they help by manning (or woman-ing) your “bar”—any small to medium table will do—for the first 30 to 45 minutes of the party. The bar action provides a focal point for incoming guests, and it’s a great icebreaker. Have all the ingredients and drink-mixing paraphernalia assembled in advance and set them out on your bar just before guests arrive. A large ice bucket, or even two, filled with crushed ice is a must.

This party-perfect showpiece recipe is pure simplicity: fresh plums, flour, sugar, butter, salt, and water. Once it cools, free the tart from its springform pan and you’ll have a golden-crusted beauty with a jewel-toned plum center that advertises—in an elegant but low-key way—the wonders of summertime fruit. If you feel your guests need more, serve it with a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream.

My backyard fig tree is not always the most reliable producer, but when I have figs I make this dessert. It pairs an old-fashioned pound cake (recipe courtesy of my great-aunt Emma) with a chunky sauce made with my homegrown Brown Turkey figs. I love this dessert’s down-home elegance—a figgy topping poured over individual pound cakes baked in cupcake pans. You can use any fresh fig that’s available—light green, brown, or purple. In Texas you’ll most likely find Brown Turkeys, which I’ve been told were planted throughout the state by early homesteaders. If fresh figs are not available, use Bosc pears or tart apples. If you want a large, belt-busting dessert, use Texas-size cupcake pans. Standard-size cupcake pans will give you double the servings.

Josh Raymer, the creative young chef behind Fredericksburg’s Navajo Grill, enjoys a little low-key partying at home on his days off. He and his wife, Julie, often invite friends in for a relaxed evening with simple food, a few good wines or a cooler full of beer, and some good conversation. Josh describes Hill Country parties as generally laid-back—dressing up means stepping into your “nicer” boots. But even the most casual affair on his stone patio includes music—Willy Nelson and the Texas Tornados are favorites. Decoration often consists of little more than bunches of herbs clipped from his carefully tended herb garden and plunked in jars. “We don’t do much.” Josh and Julie came to my garden party with their two-year-old son Hank and this equally irresistible salad. Don’t let the semi-boneless instructions frighten you. You can order neatly packaged, semi-boned quail from just about any commercial outlet, including Josh’s Bandera, Texas, supplier, Diamond H Ranch (www.texasgourmetquail.com). Semi-boned quail means the back, breast, and thigh bones have been removed, leaving the bird’s skin and its tiny leg bones intact. This allows the birds to be laid out flat for easy grilling.

My friend Yvonne makes this salad for her summertime pool parties when we crave something cool and light, which is often. She tosses it in a big bowl, we throw something on the grill, and everyone heads for her backyard pool. Sometimes we float in the pool all afternoon, climbing out of the water only when we need a watermelon break. It’s a great way to beat the Texas heat. Using the scooped-out watermelons as serving bowls means this dish performs double duty: satisfying your guests’ appetites and adding an eye-catching decorative touch. It’s easier than you think and your friends will marvel at your artistic flair.

All you really need for a good dessert is some good jam and a little pastry in your freezer. This follows the same principle as the Cherry Almond Tart (page 163), but makes use of Blueberry Lemon Jam (page 10). You can substitute another homemade or store-bought jam of your choice.

I placed this dish in the dessert chapter, but it’s so filling it might be best thought of as a brunch dish, or perhaps dessert-for-dinner. Adding sweetened bread crumbs to the preparation makes a French toast with extra crunch and a dark exterior, a nice contrast to the light, moist interior. I’ve turned the French custard toward the tropics by using coconut milk, and taken the topping to New Orleans with the classic combination of bananas, butter, rum, and pecans. Any other seasonal fruit can work: sliced apples or peaches sautéed in butter, fresh berries, or, when the fruit bowl is empty, your favorite jam.

Another parfait idea, using the same principle and base (Greek-style yogurt) but different accompanying layers. Feel free to use higher-fat yogurt if desired. I like to use Cara Cara oranges, those vibrant pink-fleshed ones, but blood oranges are deliciously striking here, and regular navel oranges or ruby red grapefruit are no slouches, either.

This is an easy, off-the-cuff dessert with plenty of options and jumping-off points. If you want something richer, feel free to use higher-fat yogurt. I pair the rhubarb with strawberries because the two have overlapping seasons and are such stunning partners, but if you’ve got access to other good fruit, this parfait also works beautifully with blackberries, raspberries, blueberries—even winter citrus, such as neat slices of Cara Cara or blood oranges, clementines, or tangerines.

I stumbled across this idea when I was making one of my regular summertime batches of hibiscus tea, while also wishing that the peaches in a paper bag on my countertop would hurry up and ripen already. I peeled a peach, let it steep in the hot tea for a while, and there you have it. Not only did the peach soften, but it also took on the loveliest color from the hibiscus, not to mention that addictive flowery tang. I later gilded the lily by boiling down a little more of the tea to make a glaze. The best part: I still had my tea, which I later cut with sparkling water and spiked with tequila.