I still have never gotten over the impulse to over eat when I am on holiday. This past August my husband Damian had been hired to DJ a party in Florence so I decided to tag along. Stretching it into a week for some relaxation and gastronomy, we booked a room in a 14th -century agriturismo. In the heart of Chianti, we were living the Tuscan dream thanks to the recommendation of an American friend who has lived there for twenty years. Lori is a writer. Her latest book; a collaboration with her husband Jason Lowe, Beaneaters and Bread Soup is a collection of stories, portraits and recipes from the very region in which Damian was spinning records.
One morning after four cappuccinos and two ice-creams, there was still no way we could ignore the smell billowing out of a little bakery in the town of San Casciano. Inside, the locals knew exactly what they were getting, and they liked to get it quickly. There is no tolerance for loitering. So when it was suddenly my turn, I nervously nodded, "si, si" to the healthy looking woman behind the counter wielding the huge knife. The parcel she pushed into my hand was still warm and slightly sticky where the juices could not be contained. We paid and once out on the street, we ripped open the paper and devoured its contents. A soft, foccaccia-like bread dotted with wine grapes and rosemary. That evening, we were invited to the home of a dear friend of Jason and Lori's for a pizza-oven party. On the way through the winding valleys, Lori insisted we stop off for an aperitivo. The unassuming shop sold everything from sacks of flour to Campari on the rocks. Under a glass case on the counter, was the remaining slice of another one of these grape breads. Schiacciata, Lori informed me, is a product of the crush. This version was made with fennel seeds rather than rosemary, and was even better.
Now, in October, it is the time of the uva fragola, or the strawberry grape. If you have never tried one, I implore you to do so. They are the flavor of childhood grape bubblegum. There is a grape in California called the concord grape, which is what purple grape juice is made from. It has a very similar pungency and is irresistible. The fragola grapes are not the easiest variety to find here in London, but they turn up at Borough Market and other small delis. Their one drawback is that nestled in the silky flesh is a seed the size of a birdshot.
I use them to make an icing for my cupcakes at Broadway Market but I wanted to try to use them in some way to evoke the wonderful flavour of the schiacciata I decided to make an upside-down cake with them despite the little problem of the seeds. I pounded some fennel in the mortar and sprinkled that into the cake mixture. This is a wonderful cake even if it looks slightly menacing with its deep purple colour. The one good thing about the seeds I decided, is that it slows you down so that you don't eat the whole cake at once.
Fragola Grape Upside-Down Cake
For the caramel:
100 g unsalted butter
150 g light brown sugar
400 g fragola grapes, washed and pulled from their stems
For the cake:
125 g very soft unsalted butter
180 g caster sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup buttermilk (or whole milk if you have that to hand)
1 1/2 cups plain flour (typt "00" if possible)
2 teaspoon baking powder
2 teaspoons fennel seeds, crushed in a mortar
First make the caramel. Put the butter and brown sugar in the bottom of an 8" cake tin and place the tin directly on the flame of your stovetop/hob. Stir constantly until the butter-sugar mixture comes together and bubbles. Set this aside to cool.
For the cake, cream the butter and caster sugar until light and fluffy. Add the eggs one at a time and mix until incorporated. Add the vanilla and salt. Add half of the buttermilk and mix. Then, having sifted together the flour, baking powder and fennel, add half of that to the mixture. Add the remaining milk and finally the remaining flour.
Now that the caramel has cooled, cover it with the washed grapes. Over that, pour the cake batter and smooth the surface.
Bake in a 170°C/375°F oven for about 40 minutes. The top should spring back when baked. Let the cake sit for about 15 minutes before running a knife around the edge and inverting it onto a serving plate. If it is too hot, it can fall apart. Wonderful for breakfast as well.
· This blogpost was amended on Wednesday October 15 2008. In the recipe above we should have written vanilla extract not essence. This has been corrected.
