Summer is winding down, but as a Kitchen Traveler you can always be on vacation. Here are a few more Bulgarian recipes from a long-passed summer. As in the last post, Bulgarian recipes of a certain era combine precise metric measurements with a trust that the cook somehow just knows what to do in the way of quantity or oven temperature. Is the “spoonful” a teaspoon or a tablespoon? Only the cook knows. How hot should the oven be? Only the cook knows. How long should the cookies be baked? Until they are done, of course.
And recommending the use of a lemon was pure fantasy since the home cook had no way in 1960 to find a lemon in the market and only once yearly—on the New Year’s holiday—were oranges to be found. The vanilla was and continues to be sold dry in packets, each one being roughly the equivalent of one teaspoonful liquid vanilla extract. By the way, the last line in the Drunken Peaches recipe is not my editorial, but is on the original recipe. Clearly, the recipe was well tested by the publisher.
But my favorite in all these recipes is the measurement provided for baking soda, “the edge of a knife soda for bread.”
Remember that no matter what the recipe includes or excludes, all jars of preserves should be boiled for ten minutes with the water level one inch above the lid before allowing them to cool and be stored.
2 kg (4½ pounds) sugar
2-3 cups water
3 kg (6½ pounds) peaches, not too ripe, skins removed
½ liter (2 cups) grape rakiya
Simmer the sugar and water to form a thick syrup. Place the whole peeled peaches in the syrup. When the syrup returns to the boil, use a slotted spoon to remove the peaches and let them cool. Layer in jars peaches, a little of the syrup, and a little of the grape rakiya (or other fruit brandy), repeating until the jars are full. Cover with parchment paper and cap the jars tightly. Let mature 5-6 weeks. It has a good taste.
Дренки (pronounced “dren-key”) is the fruit of the cornel cherry, a relative of the dogwood. The fruit is small, red, and quite sour. The cornel cherry is native to Eastern Europe. When living in Bulgaria, I used it as a substitute for cranberries at Thanksgiving so you can probably do so the other way around if you wish to try out the recipe below and don’t happen to have a few cornel cherry trees handy.
Cornel Cherry Syrup
2 kg (4½ pounds) cornel cherries
1 kg (4 cups) water
1½ kg (3¼ pounds) sugar
½ teaspoon citric acid (or 1 tablespoon lemon juice)
Mash the cornel cherries and leave them to ferment together with the pits for 24 hours. The next day, strain through a sieve, and then again through a cloth into a pot. Pour in water, add sugar, and boil until the mixture reaches the desired thickness. Add citric acid (or lemon juice).
¼ kg lard or butter
1 egg yolk
4 tablespoons yogurt
½ kg (1 pound) sugar
2 cups water
vanilla or lemon rind
Cream lard or butter together with the egg yolk. Add the yogurt and flour. Mix until you have a soft dough from which you make walnut-sized balls. Lightly press them with a grater with which lemons are grated; arrange them on a greased baking sheet and bake. While still hot, pour over a syrup made by boiling sugar and water flavored with vanilla or lemon rind.
I translated “ванилички с мармалад” as vanilla sandwich cookies as they literally are called “little vanilla ones with marmalade.” Such an endearment provided the same translation challenge from Bulgarian as translating my brownie recipe from English for my Bulgarian friends.
Vanilla Sandwich Cookies
200 grams (7 ounces) butter
4 tablespoons powdered sugar
3 cups flour
1 egg yolk
rind of 1 lemon
juice of ½ lemon
the edge of a knife baking soda
additional powdered sugar for rolling
2 packets vanilla powder
Cream the butter and sugar. When the butter is foamy, add the egg, egg yolk, lemond rind, lemon juice, and baking soda. Mix everything well until there is a smooth dough. Roll the dough to a thickness of ½ cm (just under ¼ inch) and use a rakiya glass to cut out circles, arranging them on a greased baking sheet. Bake in a hot oven until lightly browned. While still hot, stick them together two by two with marmalade or jelly. Roll them in powdered sugar, flavored with two packets of vanilla. It’s good if the sandwich cookies are left overnight in order to soften.
Quince can be very difficult to find even when seasonal, and upscale markets who do sell them do so at a price that this oft ignored sister of the apple family shouldn’t have to bear. Last fall, I had an outdoor market vendor stab the air and venomously accuse the quince of a blight that would kill her apple harvest. Putting even one or two peeled and cut up quince to a pot of applesauce adds flavor. If you can find a few pounds, quince jam is easy to make and store.
1 kg (2¼ pounds) sugar
300 grams (1¼ cups) water
1 kg (2¼ pounds) quince, peeled and grated on the large size of a box grater
water to which 1 packet citric acid (or 1 tablespoon lemon juice) has been added
citric acid (or 2 teaspoons lemon juice)
Boil a syrup from the sugar and water. Into the hot syrup the prepared quince. In order that the peeled quince do not brown as you grate them, let them sit in the water and citric acid (or lemon juice). Boil the jam at high heat until the desired thickness. Before pouring into jars, add additional citric acid or lemon juice.