Stone Fruit

It’s no surprise that lime is used widely in Mexican cooking, although it can be confusing because the translation is limón. We don’t have the yellow lemon (well, it is very rare). Lime’s lovely puckery, tart flavor is celebrated in many of our preparations, including this one. The filling for the tart is essentially a curd with a creamy texture and a bright flavor. I don’t like to hide the qualities of the lime at all, and I love the combination of cherries with it. I originally made the fruit mixture with capulines, dark-fleshed wild cherries with large pits, but I’ve never seen them outside Mexico; regular cherries or blueberries are a tasty substitute.

I used the idea of the delicious brittle caramel topping that defines a crème brûlée on this bread pudding simply because I love it! You will need a propane or butane torch to caramelize the sugar that will top the delicious layers of toasted buttery bread with fresh mango held together by a fragrant custard. The sweet and sour flavors of the sauce go wonderfully with the richness of the custard and heighten the freshness of the sweet yellow fruit.

My brother Pedro loves anything with mango and chile, and he’s not alone. It has become one of the most common combinations in sweets in Mexico; in fact, when you eat fresh mango, powdered chile of some kind is always on the table. I wanted to do something in this book just for him, but I am sure he won’t mind sharing (that’s the kind of guy he is). The chile powder you use is a matter of taste. It isn’t just about the heat; it’s also about the flavor. I particularly like the piquín chile from Oaxa ca, but feel free to substitute it for ground guajillo, chipotle, or your personal favorite.

Whenever I crave a cold sweet treat, I always go for the nieves. Ice cream is great, of course, but I am all about the fruit. Anyone who knows me knows that I can eat a quarter of a watermelon in half an hour, that I eat six to ten pieces of fruit per day during the summer, and that I have a particular weakness for stone fruit. The fruit is always the main focus in sorbet, with no distractions. Although the variety of stone fruit is not as diverse in Mexico as it is in other parts of the world, we have some tart and sweet apricots that make an extremely refreshing and silky nieve. Feel free to substitute any other stone fruit that is ripe and in season.

Milhojas, or “thousand leaves,” is the name given to this pastry because, just as in the fall, when the autumn leaves trickle down and move as the wind blows, tiny pieces of this crunchy, flaky pastry fly around when you take a bite of it. This recipe is one example where the French influence in Mexico began to be very apparent during the rule of Porfirio Díaz at the beginning of the twentieth century, and a love for classic French pastries has remained part of our tradition ever since. Milhojas have remained a favorite dessert and are found all over Mexico in many pastry shops and bread bakeries. As with many other desserts, they are often sold by the slice. Although milhojas are often filled with jams, mousses, and whipped cream, this one is layered with pastry cream, which I find to be the most representative one of all. The addition of mangoes and coconut gives it a nice freshness and tropical flavor. Traditional puff pastry is a bit time-consuming to prepare, so I have provided a quick “mock” version that will work very well when you don’t have the time or patience required to make the real deal.

These sweet peaches are used often in Mexican cooking primarily to decorate cakes and to eat with ice cream or pancakes. I thought it might be nice to have this recipe so you can make some at the height of peach season and use them in the colder months when fresh local ones are out of the question.

Crystallized fruit is basically fruit that’s been cooked for a long time in a sugar or piloncillo syrup until it is almost translucent (hence the name). t is customary to presoak the fruit overnight in lime or calcium oxide so hat it retains its shape after the long cooking process. The town of Santa ruz Acalpixa in Xochimilco is one of the best places to appreciate the normous variety of candied fruit, including prickly pears, figs, oranges, cactus paddles, and even chiles. A word of caution, though: beware of bees when making this! The process takes several days, but it’s quite simple and the fruit will fast for a several months and up to a year if stored properly. You can use he same method for many kinds of fruit, so pick some that are in season but slightly underripe so they don’t fall apart.

Antes are very old desserts that were prepared in many convents. They are similar to a layer cake and are made with marquesote or mamón (similar to a pound or génoise cake) that is soaked in syrup or liqueur, then filled with a fruit jam and colorfully adorned with fresh, dried, or crystallized fruit and often meringue and nuts. During the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, certain sweets were eaten before a meal, which is where the name of this dessert comes from: antes de means “prior to.” This particular ante was inspired by a recipe found in a manuscript from Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz. She used mamey, which I’ve replaced with mango because it is much more readily available and is a wonderful combination with the ground almonds and because it still represents the cultural blend apparent in the original recipe.

Ratafias are cordials made from macerated infused fruits, herbs, flowers, or spices; they make a wonderful digestif. Be sure to keep in a dry place away from direct sunlight while the liqueur steeps.

GINA Peaches are one of my favorite fruits, and cream always complements them. This dessert is refreshing and light: you don’t want to get your man too full, or else you will be watching him sleep. The sweet champagne and fresh vanilla will relax his senses just enough.

PAT I have a confession—when I was a kid, I would jump my grandmother’s neighbor’s fence and pluck peaches from Mr. Johnson’s trees. I figured that there were so many of those little darlings hanging from Mr. Johnson’s trees he surely wouldn’t miss a few. Looking back on it, you could say those peaches helped me develop an appreciation for the simple pleasures life has to offer. Over the years, we’ve grown fond of grilling sweet fruit. (Yes, we do “grill everything.”) When you add the smoky flavor from the grill to the sweetness of the apricots and peaches, well, you are talking about a different kind of dessert from the shortcake you’re used to. Ours also calls for biscuits (talk about a Neely spin on things!). And the turbinado sugar is just a fancy name for sugar in the raw . . . like me!

The peach nectar, lemonade, and sparkling wine—ooh, it just makes me tingle all over! And believe me, this is a night when you are going to need all the tingling you can get.

GINA My attraction to mangoes was confirmed on a trip Pat and I took to Mexico. The velvety fruit tastes like an exotic mix of pineapples and peaches, and the flavor just explodes in your mouth. In creating this salsa, I stuck with Mexican tradition and added fresh cilantro, which you can chop or tear apart. Cilantro also offers a health benefit by soothing the digestive system. So, little do the guys know, I’m taking care of their stomachs as well as their appetite! (Ladies, y’all can thank me later.) Mind you, I was a little skeptical about whether they’d go for it, so I deep-fried the tortilla chips, so they’d have something familiar to dip.

PAT At twenty-one, most people want their first cocktail . . . but when our kids are moving a little too fast, we always say, “Slow your roll or pump your brakes, sister!” So Gina came up with this recipe for frozen mango margaritas, which tastes great as written (for us) or with only a splash of the tequila and Cointreau (for Spenser).

If the combination of olive oil and dessert falls outside your comfort zone, I guarantee this cake will make you a total convert. This luscious specimen has the richness of a traditional pound cake but a more complex texture, all complemented by the haunting fruitiness of extra-virgin olive oil. Almond meal, or almonds ground until fine, gives it a delicate nuttiness. Completely addictive on its own, this cake is even better dressed up with fresh spring cherries scented with fresh bay and a tangy dollop of crème fraîche. These pretty, yellow- and pink-hued cherries are more commonly known as Rainiers, but I like this moniker better because one of the restaurants sits perched atop Seattle’s Queen Anne Hill. It’s essential to use fresh bay leaves in this recipe. Dried bay is too strong and will give the cherries an almost medicinal taste, not a quality I look for in a dessert.

Cacio Faenum is a fragrant sheep’s milk cheese that, like little baby Jesus, is lovingly laid on a bed of hay to rest. Unlike the newborn king, however, the cheese is actually wrapped in dried grass and buried in a hay-filled barrel for a little more than a month. You’ll recognize this incredible cheese by its charming hay wrapper and a grassy, barn-y fragrance that marries nicely with the earthiness of apricots and almonds.

There are fruit people, and there are chocolate people. Even chocolate people will lick their plates clean when presented with a refreshing, lemony panna cotta strewn with wine-steeped peaches. Panna cotta makes a nice spring and summertime dessert because it’s not so rich that you leave the table feeling stuffed, and the lemon verbena adds a welcome, herbaceous tang. This dish is perfect for company because the panna cotta must be made ahead, and the peaches “cook” while coming to room temperature.

Throughout the South, but especially along rural strips of highway, you’ll find a plethora of roadside farm stands advertising their homegrown wares with colorful, hand-painted wooden signs. I love these quirky little catchall stands, where you’re almost as likely to encounter folk art or a mini petting zoo as you are watermelons and eggs. If you’re lucky, you can also find some of the best peach ice cream you’ll ever eat—creamy, cold, and ultrafresh. I like to think my version, which makes the most of sweet, sun-ripened fruit, is just as tasty.

This is my mom’s recipe for what she calls a “dump cobbler,” where all you do is mix the batter, dump the fruit on top, and pop it in the oven. It’s soft and moist—almost like a pudding—with big peach flavor. Try different summer fruits, like cherries, blueberries, blackberries, or plums, in place of the peaches. Serve with Farm-Stand Peach Ice Cream (page 363) or lightly sweetened whipped cream.