The beginning-of-the-end of summer pavlova

Or let's hope so, I am done with this heat. A recipe deserving to be taken out of the archives.

A little news: my post Making amends to a ginger cat has just been featured on Substack Reads!

Around the same time as now in 2020, I developed the recipe of this pavlova for a client. I’m sure none of you have forgotten the way it was. Perhaps we won’t for the rest of our lives. Here in Italy, the tight lockdowns were a bit loosened in summer, and people discovered travelling in homeland, instead of wandering off in every nook of the world (as Italians truly do during the summer, it’s wonderfully bewildering). Puglia for instance, was drowned in the crowds.

I was here in Rome in true isolation, recovering from a car accident early in March (2 days before the Italian lockdown, the first in the West), that had left with me a broken knee, many pains and bruises and surprising gratitude for being alive and not sustaining any more serious and long lasting injurers. I still held a crutch (and went on to hold it until November) and couldn’t really walk.

My bed in my apartment is on a loft but ever since the accident in March, I had been sleeping in the guest bedroom downstair, and for the first two months at least, I did everything in bed; I ate there, had my computer with me there which allowed me to work, or watch a something or be on endless Zoom calls. Later in October, as soon as I felt confident enough to climb up and down my short staircase to bed, I vacated the guest room. I loathe sleeping in that room. It reminds of me helplessness, immobility and “tutto andrà bene”¹ banners hanging from windows of my front neighbors, which for weeks were all the view that I had.

The pavlova with late summer fruit came to me out of the excitement of being able to go to the supermarket again, and having a choice. For months I had been stuck with whatever was available on my local Carrefour’s website, which I could access only when the long waiting time to enter the website was over.

I found gorgeous plums in the supermarket, and craved something tart and tangy with perhaps warm spices. “Christmas!” I thought. But there were wonderful and extremely seasonal concord grapes (uva fragola in Italian, literally strawberry grapes), blackberries and figs! Oh god, figs, we must have figs. What can I make with all of these fruits? A cake perhaps? But that would be a waste of cake, fruit will keep falling off — gasp — a pavlova!

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We returned from Greece last Friday. Although it was a trip much different from what we had imagined (long drives in winding roads and nearly non-existent accessible beaches instead relaxing by the sea all the day long), I still would’ve preferred to stay there rather than return to hot, sticky, dirty and still unbelievably crowded Rome. There was a hitch; just 10 days before leaving for Greece, I clumsily fell down the stairs of my loft bed on my way to the bathroom in the dead of the night. No fractures, the ER confirmed. Yet the pain was awful, it swole to something indecent and although I iced it and drugged myself on painkillers and applied all sort of pomades, it was still hell to cope with rocky and stoney beaches.

I survived, on adrenaline perhaps, or perhaps on just enough ouzo.

a few moments from vacations in Greece, perhaps I'll dedicate an entire post to this later

On Saturday, declaring that I needed a relaxing day to recover my vacation (spoiled much?), I walked all the way to the pool, spent half of the day there, watched my pinkie toe that had never recovered swell and become very hot. Then I limped back home. I had to make dessert for a couple of friends who were bringing pizza, and I made something very similar to this pavlova; it lacked the main part, the meringue, but it did have the yogurt and roasted, poached and fresh fruit. It tasted so familiar. Hadn’t I written a recipe about something similar long ago?

By night I couldn’t take anymore steps, let alone climbing the few stairs towards my loft bed. I slept in the guest room, painkillers and pomades at hand, foot high on a big pillow. It felt bitterly familiar. And then I remembered my picturesque and delicious pavlova. The echoes of 2020, albeit much tamer (thankfully). The astrologer woman I follow would be happy to hear this; she’s been banging about how Saturn’s thingy with another thing makes the energy of the second half of this August similar to 2020. Phew, I guess we should be grateful it’s just this?

On the other hand, apart from being the worst year of my life, 2020 was also the best year of my life. I got my much desired and long awaited book deal in late August the very same year. If the Saturn thingy is echoing 2020 energy, I’m hoping for another turning point like that as well.

The recipe for late summer pavlova, from the archives

I’m not a huge fan of the classic pavlova; it’s too sweet for my palate. But for the pavlova to be pavlova, you must make meringue, and for the meringue to turn out well, you must use the proper amount of sugar. What I do to cut through the sweetness is add as many tart ingredients on the topping as I can. I also do something rather unorthodox: I use plain Greek yogurt (or even better, yogurt ice cream!) instead of whipped cream between the meringue and the fresh fruit. The acidity cuts through the sweetness of the meringue and the juices of the fruit flavor the yogurt.

If this summer fruit festival is your jam, should definitely check

Mark Diacono

’s late summer fruit panzanella as well.

For this recipe I’m using the fruit of late summer (hence the name): figs, plums, blackberries and concord grapes. The grapes are roasted, and it’s important that you use concord grapes, because they’re the only variety that keeps their sweetness after roasting. If you don’t have access to concord grapes, just use more plums, or other berries, or any other fruit you like. But don’t roast other types of grapes, because they lose flavor.

I have used black plums, which I poach in a wine syrup with spices (a nudge towards the upcoming cold season). Feel free to omit or add any fruit you desire.

Ingredients:

FOR THE PAVLOVA

• 4 egg whites

• 250g caster sugar

• 1 tbsp vinegar or lemon juice

• 1 tbsp corn starch

• 10 – 12 cardamom pods or ½ tsp cardamom powder

FOR THE POACHED PLUMS

• 5-6 firm black (or red) plums, halved, pits removed

• 2 cups/ 450 ml fruity red wine

• 5 tbsp caster sugar

• 1 cinnamon stick

• A few cardamom pods

• A few cloves

FOR THE TOPPING

• 500g/about a pound greek yogurt (full fat)

• 4-5 large figs, some halved, some guartered

• 5 small bunches of concord grapes, rinsed

• A handful of blackberries

• 2 tbsp of olive oil

Method:

• Start with the wine syrup. Mix the 5 tablespoons of sugar with the wine in a medium pot, throw in the cinnamon stick, cardamom pods (lightly crushed) and the cloves and bring to a gentle simmer. When the syrup is ever slightly reduced, add the halved plums, and gently cook until soft (but the plums shouldn’t completely fall apart). The time depends on the firmness of the plums. Then remove the fruit and let the syrup thicken a bit more. Filter the syrup and keep it in a small container.

• In the meantime, roast the grapes. Preheat the oven to 180’C/350’F/Gas mark 4. Line a baking tray with a baking sheet, place the grape bunches on it and drizzle with olive oil. Bake for 20 – 30 minutes until the grapes are roasted.

• Now for the meringue: Preheat the oven to 180’C/350’F/Gas Mark 4. Bash the cardamom pods to get the seeds out and use a pestle to get a powder-ish result (skip this step if you’re using cardamom powder).

• Whisk the egg whites until firm and foamy, and only then start adding in the sugar one tablespoon at a time. Keep whisking until the meringue firms up and becomes glistening. Now add the vinegar, the cornstarch and the cardamom powder.

• Line a baking pan with baking paper and dollop the meringue onto it, trying to keep it in a circular shape. It should be like a large, shallow bowl. Put the tray in the oven and immediately lower the temperature to 140’C/275’F/Gas mark 1. Bake for 30 – 45 minutes. Then turn off the oven and let the meringue cool down slowly, first in the shut oven and then with the oven slightly ajar.

• Assemble. When the meringue has completely cooled off, discard the excess water of the yogurt and mix it so that it’s creamy, then spoon it on the top of the meringue. Now arrange the roasted grapes, the poached plums, the pieces of figs and blackberries neatly on top and drizzle the wine syrup on top. Serve immediately.

1. Everything will be alright. Italians held on to the message during the lockdown of 2020 and it became a popular hashtag too.