The wait for lunchtime feels endless. I take a white loaf, carve off a thick slice and toast it until its crusty edges have singed. I spread it with thick white ricotta straight from the tub, then prise a ripe apricot in two, flick out the stone, cut the fruit into thick wedges and lay them on top of the ricotta. Depending on what is to hand, I will then grind over the faintest amount of black pepper or a few crushed pistachios. The hot, chewy toast, velvety curd and sweet-sour fruit will keep me going until lunch is ready.
Apricots are at their best for such a short time in the summer that I tend to feast on them whenever I can, tucking into their soft, fluffy skin and almost jelly-like flesh at every chance. They can, of course, disappoint, and in truth that is often the case. The trick is to take matters into your own hands, ripening the fruit at home. Buy them unrefrigerated (chilling seems to sound the death knell for this fruit), then ripen them on a sunny windowsill or simply on a dish in the kitchen. They may take a day or two to become lusciously ripe, but I am convinced the wait is worth it.
The fruit produces the most sumptuous and glossy of softly set jams, something I stir into thick Greek yoghurt as a sweet ending to lunch, but is also a fine addition to chutney. This year my batch of glossy summer preserve has both the addition of apricots and north African harissa, a hot, fruity kick for cheese, for cold meats and for spreading between the layers of a Sunday morning cheese toastie.
I cannot think of many fruits that work better in a Danish pastry, their tenderness being a perfect contrast to layers of crisp, flaky dough. Apricots are also my first choice to chop up and incorporate into a ginger cake or as a layer, perhaps with raspberries or blueberries, amid the soft, sweet crumbs of a buttery shortcake.
Raspberry and apricot shortcake
I make this cake throughout the year, using whatever fruits are in season, from gooseberries to blueberries. Whether you use apricots or peaches, the fruit must be thoroughly ripe. Rhubarb works, too, as will plums. The cake will keep for a couple of days in an airtight tin in a cool place. Serves 8-10
apricots 6
softened butter 175g
golden caster sugar 175g
eggs 2
ground almonds 80g
self-raising flour 175g
vanilla extract a few drops
raspberries 150g
icing sugar a little to finish
For the topping:
plain flour 100g
butter 75g
jumbo oats 3 tbsp
demerara sugar 2 tbsp
flaked almonds 2 tbsp
Preheat the oven to 160C/gas mark 3. Line the base of a 22cm round spring-form cake tin with baking parchment.
Make the topping: process the flour and butter to coarse crumbs using a processor or by rubbing them together between your fingers and thumbs. Switch off the machine, add the oats, sugar and flaked almonds, then a little water (no more than a tablespoon). Shake the bowl from side to side until the mixture comes together in crumbs of different sizes, then set aside.
Halve the apricots and remove their stones.
Beat the butter and sugar together until light and fluffy. Break the eggs into a small bowl, beat them briefly to mix the yolks and whites, then add gradually to the mixture with the beater on a slow speed.
Fold in the ground almonds and flour, then add the vanilla extract. Transfer the mixture to the lined tin using a rubber spatula and smooth the surface. Place the halved apricots cut side down on the surface of the cake mixture, then scatter over the raspberries.
Scatter the crumble mixture loosely over the fruit, then bake in the preheated oven for 1 hour and 15 minutes. Check the progress of the baking with a metal skewer inserted in the centre of the cake – it should come out moist, but without any uncooked mixture attached. Bake for a further 5 minutes if necessary. Remove the cake from the oven and leave to settle for 20 minutes.
Run a palette knife around the edge of the cake to free it from its tin, then ease open the tin and transfer the cake to a plate. Dust lightly with icing sugar.
Apricot and harissa chutney
The sweet-sharp note of the apricots and the deep warmth of the harissa paste makes this the best chutney of all chutneys for me and the perfect accompaniment for cheese. A good addition to a picnic basket, too, especially if you are taking a pork pie or some cold sausages.
Makes 3 x 400ml jam jars
apricots 500g, fresh
tomatoes 500g
onion 1, medium
white wine vinegar 300ml
golden granulated sugar 250g
sultanas 90g
lemon 1 small, zested
salt 1 tsp
harissa 2 tbsp
honey 4 tbsp
Halve the apricots and discard their stones. Put them into a large, deep, heavy-based saucepan. Cut the tomatoes in half and add them to the pot, then peel and roughly chop the onion and stir into the apricots.
Add the vinegar, sugar, sultanas, lemon zest and salt and bring to the boil. Stir the mixture well, lower the heat to a simmer, partially cover with a lid, then leave to bubble gently for an hour or so.
Stir in the harissa and honey and continue cooking for 10 minutes, then taste and correct the seasoning, if necessary, with salt, honey or lemon juice as you wish. Ladle into sterilised jars, seal and store in a cool, dark place.
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