Every year in the middle of July there’s a spike of traffic on my red currant posts – these red currant crumb bars are particularly popular. And I get so excited, because it means that there are other people out there who like these beautiful berries as much as I do! We get a bumper crop of red currants every year around the second week of July: they are easily the most productive, easiest crop in our little garden. We transplanted one small bush 3 years ago when we moved in, and this year we picked almost four pounds of currants from it.

Four pounds of currants is quite a few. Thankfully, they freeze very well. But I also try to come up with at least one new red currant recipe every year. Judging by the search traffic on my other red currant recipes and your comments on this post, I can tell that lots of you are still wondering what to do with these sour little berries. And it’s a good question! There aren’t a ton of recipes out there, as these berries are still relatively uncommon in the US.

This year I made an easy Red Currant Coffee Cake to use up some of our bounty. Coffee cake is such a great American recipe. Of course, like most American things, it originated somewhere else – Germany in this case. But 150 years on, I think it’s fair to say that there’s a distinct American tradition of coffee cake that has evolved from its German roots. There’s something so satisfying about a crumbly-topped, cinnamon-scented slice of cake eaten with a mug of tea or coffee. It isn’t dainty like British tea-time snacks, it’s unapologetically just… cake for breakfast. And when packed with red currants, it has a great sour, juicy tang to counter some of that over-the-top sweetness.

I managed to cram two cups of berries into one cake (making cake for breakfast feel almost virtuous) but we still have loads of currants to use up. If you’re in the same boat and looking for more inspiration, why not try out some of my other red currant recipes, below!

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More Red Currant Recipes…

Red Currant Crème Brûlée

Red Currant Coffee Cake

A simple Red Currant Coffee Cake – moist cake, sweet crumb topping, crammed full of sour red currant berries.

Cake recipe adapted from Cranberry Vanilla Coffee Cake, originally sourced from Gourmet.

• Author: katieatthekitchendoor
• Prep Time: 30
• Cook Time: 50
• Total Time: 1 hour 20 minutes
• Yield: 8-10

Ingredients

For the cake:

• 2 cups flour
• 2 tsp baking powder
• Pinch salt
• 1 cup sugar
• 1 stick softened butter
• 2 eggs
• 1/2 cup whole milk
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 2 cups (12 oz.) fresh red currants, tossed with 2 tsp flour

For the streusel:

• 3 TBS butter, room temperature
• 3 TBS brown sugar
• 3 TBS white sugar
• 1/4 cup flour
• 1/4 tsp ground cinnamon

Instructions

1. Make the cake: Preheat the oven to 375F. Butter and lightly flour a 9 inch cake pan or springform pan. Tap any excess flour out over the sink. Set prepared pan aside.
2. Whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt in a medium bowl. Set aside.
3. Add the softened butter and the sugar to the bowl of a mixer and beat on medium until light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs one at a time, beating just until they are incorporated, then stopping the mixer. Add half of the flour mixture to the butter-sugar-egg batter and beat just until incorporated. Now add the milk and beat on low just until incorporated. Add the remaining half of the flour mixture and beat until incorporated. Remove the bowl from the mixer – you’ll do the rest by hand.
4. Stir in the vanilla extract until it is evenly mixed into the batter. Add the flour-coated currants (the light flour coating helps prevent them from sinking when mixed into the cake) and gently stir until they are evenly distributed throughout the batter. Use a spatula to scrape the batter into the prepared cake pan. Smooth out gently so the batter is level.
5. Make the streusel: In a small bowl, use your fingers to mix together the butter, brown sugar, sugar, flour, and cinnamon until it forms a crumbly mixture with pieces the size of peas. Sprinkle over the top of the cake batter.
6. Bake the cake: Transfer the cake to the pre-heated oven and bake until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean and the top of the cake is golden brown, about 50-60 minutes. Remove from oven. Let cool for 15 minutes, then remove from the pan, slice, and serve warm.

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In the few days I had at home last weekend I managed to catch the very beginning of red currant season. Red currants are still fairly uncommon in the US. Astringent and seedy, I can see why they don’t fit in with the sugar-sweet raspberries and mellow blueberries we favor, but I’d like to make a case for them. Firstly, they’re beautiful – translucent globes that shine with red juice. They freeze well – and when frozen they make the most satisfying marble sound as you drop them into a glass bowl. They also add an acidic complexity to otherwise saccharine fruit desserts.

I was worried the currants might be overripe by the time I returned from my trip to Asia. I wanted to make sure I could use at least a few in a new recipe, so I picked the reddest of the bunch. With them (and some frozen ones leftover from last year), I made a Red Currant Crème Brûlée, inspired in equal parts by dinner at ForettaBarinn last week in Iceland, where I had a delicious rhubarb crème brûlée, and by Nigel Slater’s beautiful cookbook, Ripe. Trevor has promised to watch over the rest of the berries and optimize their harvest so that I can enjoy as many as possible when I get back home.

Sometimes when people ask me what my favorite food is, I tell them that it’s cream. This is only partially a joke. Accordingly, crème brûlée is one of my all-time favorite desserts, and it can be very difficult for me to not order it. Luckily (dangerously?) it’s very easy to make at home – just a simple custard of egg, cream, and sugar, gently baked in a bain marie.

This particular crème brûlée – with a layer of homemade red currant jam on the bottom – was exceptional. The sweet, silky smooth custard just barely punctuated by bursts of tart red currant jelly, the crackling burnt sugar crust – it’s more than the sum of its parts, for sure. I only wish I hadn’t inadvertently calculated the nutrition facts when pouring all two cups of lovely cream into the bowl. If I hadn’t known, I would have eaten more.

I didn’t remove the seeds from my homemade red currant jam because I don’t mind them. But if you want a really smooth jam, strain the jelly through a fine mesh strainer after simmering. You can also use store-bought red currant jelly if you don’t have any of your own fresh currants around.

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More Red Currant Recipes…

Red Currant Crumb Bars

Red Currant Kompot

Red Currant Chutney

Red Currant Crème Brûlée

A fruit-on-the-bottom version of Crème Brûlée using a thin layer of homemade red currant jam. 

Inspired by Nigel Slater’s Ripe and the crème brûlée at Forettabarinn.

• Author: Katie at the Kitchen Door

Ingredients

• 1 1/2 cups fresh or frozen red currants, stems removed
• 1/3 cup plus 6 TBS of sugar, divided, plus more for caramelizing the tops of the custards
• 1 TBS raspberry liqueur
• 2 cups of heavy cream
• 1/2 vanilla bean
• 4 large egg yolks

Instructions

1. For the red currant jam: Combine the red currants, 6 TBS of sugar, and the raspberry liqueur in a small saucepan. Lightly crush some of the currants with the back of a wooden spoon to release their juices. Bring to a simmer over medium-low heat. Simmer until the currants have burst and softened and the sauce has thickened to the consistency of a thin jelly (it will continue to thicken as it cools). This should take about 10-15 minutes. Remove from the heat. If a very smooth jam is desired, strain through a fine-mesh strainer while still hot, discarding the seeds. I prefer to use it un-strained. Set jam aside and let cool to room temperature.
2. For the crème brûlée: Preheat the oven to 325F. Place the cream in a clean, medium-sized saucepan. Carefully slice the vanilla bean in half lengthwise and use a small spoon to scrape the vanilla seeds into the cream. Add the vanilla bean to the cream as well. Heat cream over low heat until it just reaches a slight simmer, stirring the cream frequently to prevent a skin from forming. Once it reaches a simmer, immediately remove from the heat and let steep for 4-5 minutes. After 5 minutes, use a spoon to remove the vanilla bean.
3. In a large, heatproof bowl, whisk the egg yolks and the remaining 1/3 cup of sugar together until the egg yolks are pale in color and the sugar is mostly dissolved. While continuing to whisk the yolks, pour the warm cream over the egg and sugar mixture. Whisk until very well combined.
4. Divide the red currant jam between four 6-oz ramekins, spreading the jam out so there is a thin layer on the bottom of each ramekin. Carefully pour the cream mixture over the top of the jam, doing your best not to mix the jam and the cream. Place the filled ramekins in a large, high-sided baking dish or casserole. Carefully fill the baking dish with very hot water so that the water reaches halfway up the sides of the ramekins. Don’t get any water inside the ramekins! Carefully transfer the baking dish to the preheated oven. Bake until the centers of the custards are just barely set – they should still jiggle slightly when the dish is moved – about 45-55 minutes. Remove from the oven and let cool completely, then remove the ramekins from the  baking dish, cover with plastic wrap, and chill for at least 2 hours.
5. Just prior to serving, remove the chilled crème brûlées from the fridge. Spoon a thin, even layer of sugar over the top of each custard. Use a pastry torch to caramelize the sugar until it is melted and browned all over, forming a thin crust on the top of each crème brûlée (here’s a video to help!). Serve immediately.

Notes

You will need a pastry torch and 6-oz oven-safe ramekins for this recipe.

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In our office in Russia, there’s a little dining room with a table for four right beside the cafeteria. There’s a white tablecloth, big classical-style windows, and two heavy wooden doors – one to the cafeteria and one to the kitchen. As soon as you sit down, an older woman in a blue-and-white checked apron comes through the second door, hands you the day’s menu, and comes back 30 seconds later to take your order. It’s all very cozy and efficient and Russian. I loved the food in that little cafeteria – the meat-potatoes-cabbage-sour cream approach to cuisine definitely appeals to me, and I think traditional Russian cooking is very tasty, despite the bad rap it gets. And every day I ordered kompot, a sort of chilled, sweetened fruit juice. I discovered it on my very first trip to Russia, three years ago, and never looked back. (Three years! Have I really been traveling on this crazy schedule for three entire years?)

I think kompot might be tied with lemonade for the ultimate summer drink. It’s sweet, tangy, cold, and fruity – the perfect thirst-quencher when you’re parched but water won’t quite do the trick. It’s very simple to make. While in Russia I had it made with pretty much every possible combination of summer fruit, so you don’t have to worry too much about the ingredients – you can make it with whatever fruit you have on hand. But my favorite version is made with red currants, a fruit that I will always associate with Russian summers, so that’s what I’ve made here.

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Red Currant Kompot

Makes 10 half-cup servings.

• ½ c. fresh raspberries
• ½ c. fresh blueberries
• 1 c. fresh red currants, removed from stems
• 5 c. water
• ½ c. sugar (or more to taste)

1. Add the berries, currants, and water to a large saucepan. Bring to a gentle simmer over medium heat and simmer for about 5-7 minutes, until the water is deeply colored and the berries have just started to break down but have not lost their shape. Remove from the heat and stir in the sugar until it is dissolved. Taste and add more sugar if desired. Let the mixture cool to room temperature, then pour the juice and approximately half of the fruit into a pitcher and refrigerate until thoroughly chilled. (Reserve the remaining fruit for another use, such as topping ice cream or yogurt). Serve cold.

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If you look at my travelogue collection, which currently includes Ecuador, Italy, St. Thomas, and bits and pieces from around New England and Canada, it sorely under-represents my actual travel history. Where is Russia? Malaysia? Chile and Colombia? Travelogues are some of my favorite posts to look back on, but I often fall into the trap of putting them on my editorial calendar, meaning to sort through all my pictures and memories to share with you and document for myself, and then dragging the post forward month after month until my memories are a little jumbled and I’m not sure exactly what to say. Case in point – I’ve been meaning to write about the 6 weeks I spent in Russia for two years. Two years!

But I’m determined to change this, starting with my trip to Ireland in August. It was a short trip, just 6 days, but after 8 months of hectic and often stressful work travel, it reminded me that traveling for vacation is an entirely different matter – it’s fun and thrilling and wonderful to be on your own discovering someplace new. The trip was just me and my two younger brothers, Ryan and Robbie, and it was special to have time together just the three of us (even when I was screaming at them to stop fooling around and get dressed as we all bumped into each other in the teeny-tiny B&B room we shared in Galway).

Galway, The Aran Islands, The Burren

I won’t give you a day-by-day hour-by-hour breakdown of our trip – in fact, what I really want to share is just the one, perfect day we spent exploring the Burren. We flew into Dublin on Friday morning and after spending the day wandering, trying not to take a nap and enjoying our first few pints, we took the train from Dublin to Galway. The main event in Galway was a full day tour to the Aran Islands and the Cliffs of Moher – with only a short time in the country (and because none of us felt comfortable driving), we opted to do most of our sight-seeing with tour groups, and it worked out perfectly. We went on this tour with The Galway Tour Company, and I would highly recommend it – there was a good balance between the guided, tour-like parts and being able to explore on your own, and it allowed us to see a ton in the one day we had.

We went to the smallest of the Aran Islands, Inisheer, which has a population of only 250. The ferry across from Doolin to Inisheer was exciting, to say the least. I have spent a lot of time on boats of all shapes and sizes throughout my life, and this went straight to my “Top 3 most nerve-wracking boat experiences.” Just looking at the ocean from the dock made me nervous – when they say Wild Atlantic here, they really mean it. I’m sure we were perfectly safe – it is a ferry, after all – but the pitch of that boat and the size of those waves was both awe inspiring and terrifying. And they told us it was a “pretty good” day for crossing.

Once we were on the island (a relief in and of itself), we rented bikes and pedaled our hearts out – up the winding roads to the ruined castle, down through the stone wall-lined paths to the lighthouse, and back around to the rusted shipwreck. It was an exhilarating morning, one that I will look back on for a long time for its beauty, freedom, and sense of discovery. The weather was gray and just a little wild, and the island was incredibly beautiful, with its maze of low stone walls and verdant green pastures. I would go back in a heartbeat – and for more than 2 hours next time.

After a slightly less harrowing ferry ride back to Doolin, this time taking a detour by the base of the Cliffs of Moher (awe-inspiring, but slightly hard to appreciate whilst also worrying you might get swept off the boat), we stopped in at a very efficient pub for beef stew and brown bread and a warming Guinness. Next up were the Cliffs themselves, one of Ireland’s most famed attractions. Unsurprisingly, they were flooded with people, but somehow it didn’t matter – it was still an incredible thing to see in person. Plus, if you walk just a little bit beyond the official visitor areas, the crowds thin to a more manageable point. We had just a little over an hour to wander the paths snaking over the top of the cliffs, which was enough to take it all in and take some lovely pictures. Again, though, if I ever find myself back there, I’ll slow down a little and walk to the top of the cliffs from Doolin, taking the time to appreciate them properly. As it was, we left at 6pm and had a long, sleepy bus ride back to Galway, watching the rocky landscape of the Burren pass us by through the windows.

The Burren is what I’ll be going back to Ireland for – the wild wind-swept landscapes, tumble-down stone houses, and juxtaposition of green and gray and the steely blue of the Atlantic. To rent a house and a little car, spending my days going for long rambling walks and ending them with hot stew and fresh beer in cozy little pubs sounds like the ideal sort of vacation. I got just a taste this time but now I know that this part of Ireland is exactly how I always imagined Ireland would be.

Scones

Ireland is not exactly known for its food, and although we had several tasty meals, nothing was particularly memorable. Nothing, that is, except the brown bread and the scones and the butter. The scones, in particular, were far better than any others I’ve had. The best one I had was at the most unassuming place – the museum café in the National Museum of Ireland for Decorative Arts and History. The café was a little serve-yourself place, with charming blue tablecloths and no pretentions whatsoever, and the scones were just perfect. I think the fact that I went by myself, on our first afternoon while my brothers were sound asleep, added to the loveliness of the moment, and so I’ve taken it away as my primary food memory from Ireland – and the one I want to share with you.

I’ve made scones a number of times (like these Peach Scones with Bourbon Glaze), but they are always much too close to biscuits for me. I don’t want a scone to flake – I want it to crumble. I realize there are many different interpretations of the perfect scone out there, but for me it’s pretty close to that museum scone – soft, more cakey than biscuity, studded with fruit, and served with lots of butter and jam. Here’s instagram evidence of that particular scone, if you’re curious.

So I did some research on the best way to make Irish scones and in doing so, stumbled upon an Atlantic article called “The Secret of the Irish Scone.” The title certainly seemed promising, but I have to say I was a bit skeptical when I got to the end of the article and discovered that the secret to Irish scones was olive oil. And by skeptical I mean I am 100% positive that no traditional Irish baker ever made a scone with foreign, grassy olive oil in place of all that lovely Irish butter they have everywhere. But the reasoning behind using a liquid fat instead of a solid fat stuck with me, and I decided to give them a try. I added dried sour cherries and the last of the frozen red currants in place of the raisins and frozen raspberries, and really they were lovely. Perhaps not the most Irish, as you can taste a hint of olive oil, but certainly closer to the real thing than the flaky buttery versions I’ve made in the past. So I present these scones to you, not as authentic Irish scones, but as truly delicious scones that are wonderful reminders of a wonderful trip.

Olive Oil Scones with Red Currants and Sour Cherries

Adapted from The Atlantic. Makes about 12 scones.

• 1 3/4 c. AP flour
• 1 c. pastry flour
• 2 tsp baking powder
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1 c. buttermilk
• 1/2 c. light-flavored olive oil
• 1/2 c. sugar
• 1 egg
• 1/2 c. dried sour cherries
• 1/2 c. frozen red currants
• egg wash (1 egg mixed with 1 tsp water)

1. Preheat the oven to 500°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and set aside.
2. Mix the flours, baking powder, and salt together in a large bowl. Sift the flour mixture twice using a sifter or fine-mesh sieve so that the flour is very light. Set aside.
3. In a medium bowl, whisk together buttermilk, olive oil, sugar, and egg until evenly combined. Make a well in the center of the flour and pour the buttermilk mixture into. Add the sour cherries as well. Use a wooden spoon to gently mix the flour and buttermilk mixtures together until just combined. The mixture should be fairly wet.
4. Generously flour a work surface and turn the dough out onto it. Pat the dough into a rectangle about 1-inch high. Sprinkle the frozen currants over half of the dough, then gently fold the other half of the dough on top of it. Press dough lightly to embed the currants into it. Pat the dough into another rectangle that is about 1 and 1/2 inches high. Use a biscuit cutter to cut out round circles from the dough, placing these circles on the prepared baking sheet. Pat any extra scraps of dough into rough circles and add to the baking sheet. Brush the scones with the egg wash, then refrigerate for 15 minutes. Brush once more with the egg wash, and place in the oven. Immediately lower the oven temperature to 425°F. Bake until just golden brown on top, about 15-18 minutes. Let cool on a cooling rack. Serve within a few days for best flavor. Freeze any extras wrapped tightly in plastic wrap.

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I’m going to be honest. I’m really, really wiped out right now. Trevor and I spent the better part of this weekend scrubbing some other person’s dog’s hair off the floors (and out of the vents, and out of the fridge) and trolling home depot like zombies and sanding the walls of our new apartment. And for the few hours I wasn’t doing that, I was thinning carrots (and pruning tomato suckers and ripping up dead peas). Which was actually kind of satisfying, but still exhausting. My feet are kind of tingly on the bottom because they’re not used to being used so much, and my knees are bruised and some wall-washing muscles in my arms I didn’t know existed are quite tired. The reason I’m whining to you about all this is not just to be heard, though. It’s just, I made you some red currant crumb bars, and I want to tell you about them, but I really can’t think of how to write a coherent and/or clever sentence about baking right now. So bear with me as I stream-of-consciousness blog about them.

Red currants. They have a short season, and it’s right now. They’re super pretty and quite sour and they burst in your mouth like gushers when you bite into them. I bought four bushes of my own this year but I only got five measly currants off of them. When I looked it up, I found out that currants, like raspberries, bear on second year canes, of which there weren’t many this year, so at least there’s hope for next year. Except that our new apartment doesn’t seem to get much sun. Some serious landscaping may be in order, although I think cutting down all the trees is probably a violation of our lease. Maybe we should try and find those sketchy contractor guys who snuck into our yard last year and hacked off a bunch of branches in the dark with hand saws. Sorry, my stream of consciousness got derailed.

Because I didn’t have any homegrown currants, I bought some. Last year, I made red currant chutney and red currant meringue pie and homemade cassis with my currant bounty. They were all delicious. This year, I went simple, and made crumb bars. They were also delicious. They’re a good intro to currants, if you’re not sold on them yet, because they mostly taste like coffee cake crumbs with a thin layer of tangy, bright red fruit. Give ’em a go. Also, let me know if you’re making anything this year with currants! I still don’t see very many interesting recipes for them around the web, so I’d love a little inspiration.

Red Currant Crumb Bars

Sweet homemade crumb bars with a tangy red currant filling. An easy summer dessert.

Adapted from Smitten Kitchen. 

• Author: Katie at the Kitchen Door
• Yield: 16
• Category: Dessert

Ingredients

 

• 1/2 c. plus 2/3 c. sugar
• 3 cups fresh red or white currants, washed and removed from their stems
• 1 TBS cornstarch
• 2 c. flour
• 1 tsp baking powder
• 1/4 tsp salt
• 1 1/3 sticks salted butter (5.3 oz.), cut into cubes and chilled
• 1 egg

Instructions

1. Preheat the oven to 375°F. Grease an 8×8 or an 11×7 inch cake pan and set aside.
2. In a large bowl, gently stir together 1/2 cup of the sugar, the currants, and the cornstarch, until currants are coated with the sugar mixture.
3. In a separate large bowl, whisk together the remaining 2/3 cup of sugar, the flour, the baking powder, and the salt until evenly combined. Add the chilled butter cubes and the egg, and use a pastry cutter or a fork to blend the butter and egg into the flour. When finished, dough will be crumbly with pea-sized chunks of butter.
4. Press 2/3 of the dough into the prepared pan. Top with the currants. Clump the remaining dough together into a loose ball, then crumble it over the top of the currant mixture. Bake for 35-45 minutes, until currants are bubbly and top of crust is golden brown.

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