It's been raining apricots around here. Literally, so. It's a hazard to walk into some of my neighbors' yards. Or it might just be me that those trees are aiming for, as I have been the target of many an apricot in free fall.
Organic apricots from my neighbor's tree
These aren't your regular supermarket apricots. They are much smaller, less than two inches in diameter, and very sweet. When firm, they are quite tart and ripen quickly to near-mush, if not eaten immediately. I picked slightly firm apricots from the stash that was given to me and roasted them, strawberry-style. While that was tasty, roasted apricots weren't as popular with my family as balsamic roasted strawberries always are. I should have tried one of Suvir's suggestions at Culinary India: add a smidge of black pepper or hot green chiles to bring out the natural sweetness of a fruit. He recommends trying it while making roasted strawberries, to cut down on the amount of sugar one would normally add to sweeten them.
Apart from tearing the fruit apart and feasting on the ripe apricots, I made apricot chicken with a batch that I picked from my neighbor's tree. It's not your usual chicken curry and is sweet, sour and spicy, all at the same time. That set the tone for what I wanted to do with yet another batch of apricots that were delivered to my doorstep by another neighbor. Something spicy. A jelly or a jam would not do; it had to be a chutney of sorts—fruit and sugar cooked down in vinegar to a reduction. Anita's mango relish had triggered memories of gulchaat—green mangoes cooked with jaggery and spices—so I knew that I was going to use jaggery instead of sugar. But I had no recipe!
Organic apricots from my neighbor's tree
These aren't your regular supermarket apricots. They are much smaller, less than two inches in diameter, and very sweet. When firm, they are quite tart and ripen quickly to near-mush, if not eaten immediately. I picked slightly firm apricots from the stash that was given to me and roasted them, strawberry-style. While that was tasty, roasted apricots weren't as popular with my family as balsamic roasted strawberries always are. I should have tried one of Suvir's suggestions at Culinary India: add a smidge of black pepper or hot green chiles to bring out the natural sweetness of a fruit. He recommends trying it while making roasted strawberries, to cut down on the amount of sugar one would normally add to sweeten them.
Apart from tearing the fruit apart and feasting on the ripe apricots, I made apricot chicken with a batch that I picked from my neighbor's tree. It's not your usual chicken curry and is sweet, sour and spicy, all at the same time. That set the tone for what I wanted to do with yet another batch of apricots that were delivered to my doorstep by another neighbor. Something spicy. A jelly or a jam would not do; it had to be a chutney of sorts—fruit and sugar cooked down in vinegar to a reduction. Anita's mango relish had triggered memories of gulchaat—green mangoes cooked with jaggery and spices—so I knew that I was going to use jaggery instead of sugar. But I had no recipe!
