Stewed Lemon Prunes
You know you’re getting older when: you have a Prune Jar in the fridge.
Molly talked me into it. The power of suggestion is strong with me late at night, when I read books in bed with a flashlight tucked under my chin (like a 12 year old boy looking at National Geographic – I really need to go to IKEA and get me a bedside lamp). The funny part is, I read her ode to stewed prunes (in A Homemade Life) well over a year ago, and every time I see a prune (or – pardon me marketing people – dried plum) I picture her father shuffling into the kitchen in his robe to put on a pot of prunes to sit overnight and transform into something far more juicy and sophisticated by breakfast. Now she’s what you might call a great food writer.
I decided to do it Berg’s way (that’s her dad) – food safety police be damned – and just cover a half a small pot of prunes with water, add a few slices of lemon (Molly adds orange too, but I didn’t have any – and I think she tosses in a cinnamon stick) bring it to a boil, snap the lid on, take it off the heat and leave it for morning. Don’t forget to turn the stove off, please.
And she’s right. They don’t turn watery, or sad, or stewed in the way that a tinned tomato tends to be – it’s like they’re relieved to finally regain some of their moisture, now that they’ve gone and puckered and condensed, and not only do they suck it up, but release some of their sugars back, creating this wonderful syrup that the lemon has given a complex tang. If you store them with the lemon slices in the fridge, their lemoniness will become more lively over a few days or a week. When you eat a bowl of them with homemade yogurt and granola, you’ll feel right grown up. Circa 1967.
January 30 2011 | breakfast | 14 Comments »
