Cooking with Suffolk Grown Apples and Pears

There is something quietly satisfying about a Suffolk autumn. The orchards around the Stour valley and the old farms near Hadleigh and Debenham start to sag under the weight of fruit, and before long there is a box of apples in the boot of the car and a bowl of pears ripening on the windowsill. Cottage cooking has always been about making the most of that glut — turning a modest crop into crumbles, chutneys and cakes that fill the kitchen with warmth.

Getting to Know Your Fruit

Suffolk-grown apples tend to fall into two camps, and knowing which is which saves a lot of guesswork. The eaters — Cox's Orange Pippin, Discovery, Egremont Russet — are sweet, aromatic and best used where you want the fruit to hold its shape. Bramleys and other cookers collapse beautifully into a soft, sharp purée, which is exactly what you want in a sauce or a pie filling. The cleverest puddings use both: a couple of sharp cookers for body and a handful of eaters for perfume.

Pears are a different matter. Conference and Comice ripen from the inside out, so a pear that feels firm at the base can already be soft at the core. Test them gently around the neck, just below the stalk. If it gives slightly, it is ready. If you are picking from a tree, take them a little underripe and let them finish in a cool room — a single layer in a shallow tray, away from other fruit, which speeds things up too much.

For storage, a cool, dark, frost-free shed or pantry is ideal. Wrap each apple loosely in newspaper, keep them in single layers and check weekly — one bad fruit will spoil the whole box. Pears generally do not keep as long, so use them within a fortnight.

The Spice Cupboard That Does the Work

Apples and pears are sweet, but their real charm is acidity, and that needs tempering carefully. A few store-cupboard staples will carry you through the whole season:

• Cinnamon — a whole quill simmered in a pan of fruit, or a generous teaspoon of ground in a cake batter.
• Cloves — powerful stuff, so go sparingly. Three or four whole cloves in a chutney, or a pinch of ground alongside cinnamon.
• Nutmeg and ginger — freshly grated nutmeg for a crumble topping, stem ginger for pears.
• Light muscovado sugar — softer and more caramel-like than caster, with a gentle molasses note that suits orchard fruit.
• Dark muscovado — reserve this for chutneys, where its depth stands up to vinegar and onion.
• Lemon juice — a squeeze keeps sliced fruit from browning and sharpens anything that tastes flat.

A pinch of salt, incidentally, does more for a fruit pudding than most people expect. It stops the sugar from reading as merely sweet.

Crumbles, Pies and the Art of the Topping

A good crumble is a ratio, not a recipe. Use roughly twice as much flour as butter by weight, then add half that weight again in sugar. Rub the butter into the flour until it looks like coarse breadcrumbs, stir through the sugar and a pinch of salt, then scatter it thickly and do not press it down — pressed crumble turns to concrete. A handful of porridge oats and a spoonful of demerara on top gives a proper crunch.

For the fruit, peel and slice about a kilo, toss with two tablespoons of light muscovado, a teaspoon of ground cinnamon, a squeeze of lemon and a tablespoon of cornflour to thicken the juices. Bake at 200°C (180°C fan, gas mark 6) for 35 to 40 minutes, until the topping is deep gold and the juices bubble at the edges. Serve with hot custard, or cold cream if you are that way inclined.

Pies benefit from the same treatment, but let the filling cool completely before it goes under the pastry. A lattice top lets the steam out and looks handsome on a cottage table.

Chutneys, Jams and Preserves

Chutney is the answer to a glut that has gone slightly soft. Roughly chop a kilo of peeled apples or pears, then simmer with 500g of chopped onions, 250g of sultanas, 400g of dark muscovado, 500ml of malt or cider vinegar and a spice bag of cloves, ginger and a cinnamon stick. Cook gently for an hour to ninety minutes, stirring often, until a wooden spoon drawn through the mixture leaves a clean channel.

Pot into warm, sterilised jars while hot, seal, and then — this is the hard part — leave them somewhere cool for four to six weeks. The vinegar needs time to mellow. After that, you have something worth putting beside a wedge of Suffolk cheese or a plate of cold ham.

For something quicker, pear and ginger jam set with the fruit's own pectin and a squeeze of lemon takes about forty minutes from pan to jar, and a spoonful stirred into yoghurt is a fine breakfast.

Cakes for a Tea Table

Apples and pears keep a cake moist for days, which is exactly what you want in a tin by the kettle. A spiced apple loaf — 225g self-raising flour, 175g soft brown sugar, 175g melted butter, two eggs, 250g grated apple, a teaspoon each of cinnamon and mixed spice — bakes at 160°C (140°C fan) for about 55 minutes. Test with a skewer; it should come out with a few damp crumbs, not wet batter.

Pears work beautifully in an upside-down cake. Melt 60g of butter with 60g of dark muscovado in a lined tin, arrange halved pears cut-side down, pour over a simple sponge and bake at 180°C for 40 minutes. Invert while warm and let it sit for five minutes before lifting the tin away. The caramel that runs down the sides is the best part.