Sour cherry mojitos by the pitcher

Ingredients:

Good-quality white rum, 3½ cups
Sour cherries, pitted, ½ pint
Juice of 10 limes

Sugar, ¾ cup

Water, 1½ cups

Mint leaves, torn, ½ cup

Soda water, 1¼ cups

Directions:

1. In a saucepan over medium heat, dissolve the sugar in water to make a simple syrup. Add syrup to pitcher.
2. Macerate cherries in syrup at the bottom of the pitcher. Always do this step before the others to allow the cherries to marinate in the syrup and release their juices. 
3. Juice limes with a juicer. Alternatively, if you are juicing by hand: Warm each fruit for 20-30 seconds in a microwave. Roll on cutting board before cutting each in half. Poke each half thoroughly with a fork, then use the fork to use apply pressure and get more juice out. Add juice to pitcher and stir.
4. Add mint leaves and muddle. 
5. Chill until ready to serve. Add soda water and stir briefly immediately prior to serving.
6. Pour through a strainer into tall glasses, spooning some cherries into each glass. I recommend leaving out the mint leaves, or spooning just one or two into each glass, since the soda water makes them float. The cherries, however, sink, and are extraordinarily delicious.

Serves: 8-10

The story:

My sister and my cousin Liz during our family reunion
Outer Banks, North Carolina, July 2012

I love tart, sour fruit, and the sour cherries were freshly picked at the farmer's market on Thursday morning (where I, in all sincerity, briefly welled up with joy at the lush, humid verdancy of my native East Coast and the array of fruits and vegetables my native climate, well, produces). Originally, I planned to make jam for the crostini in this recipe, but we have a lot of family in town for my cousin's upcoming wedding, and I was reminded of the fresh mojitos I mixed during our family reunion in the Outer Banks last summer...and instead, came up with this cocktail, a twist on the black cherry caipirinha (possibly my favorite cocktail anywhere) at Alma de Cuba in Philadelphia, one of my favorite bars and restaurants, with its gorgeous, evocative dark wooden floors and paneling. Like the black cherry caipirinha, this mojito also produces succulent pops of cherries at the finish of your drink. 

Tonight, I'm sitting on my deck with a mojito, watching dusky periwinkle clouds glide across a perfect blue sky - after a spectacular day hiking (reveling in things like MUD(!), and fallen trees covered with velvety moss, and tiny, perfect frogs), and eating moules-frites (while my son dipped his fingers in one his favorite things, truffle aïoli) and drinking Three Philosophers (one of my favorite things) at Ommegang Brewery - and it is perfect.

Update: I had a lot of amazingly delicious rum-soaked sour cherries after serving these mojitos, so I added another half pint of sour cherries to the remaining liquid, let them soak overnight, and then reduced them to a syrup over low heat (barely a tablespoon of liquid was left). Then we made a vanilla bean ice cream and poured in the cherries at the end. Try it!

Cream of Jerusalem artichoke soup

Ingredients:

Soup
1/4 cup unsalted butter
2 lb Jerusalem artichokes (sunchokes), peeled and cubed
12 oz leeks, washed and finely sliced
1 potato, peeled and cubed
1 medium onion, diced
2 garlic cloves, crushed and finely chopped
6-8 cups chicken stock
1/2 cup heavy cream
Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
Pesto
1/2 cup chestnuts, cooked and peeled
1/4 cup firm goat cheese, finely grated
1 garlic clove, crushed and finely chopped
1/2 tsp coarse seat salt

1/2 tsp freshly ground pepper
1 cup flat-leaf parsley
Juice from 1 lemon

3/4 cup olive oil

1/4 cup rapeseed oil

Directions:

Soup

1. In large, heavy-based saucepan, melt the butter over a low heat, then gently sauté the sunchokes, leeks, potato and onion until soft, about 20 minutes. 

2. Add the stock, bring to a boil, then lower the heat and simmer, partially covered, for 20 to 30 minutes, until the artichokes can be easily mashed against the side of the pan with the back of a wooden spoon.

3. Allow to cool slightly, then purée soup in food processor until smooth. Return to pot.
4. Add cream and season to taste.
Pesto
1. Purée the chestnuts, cheese, garlic, salt and pepper in a food processor. 

2. Add the parsley and purée again until well chopped. 

3. Add the lemon juice and slowly add the oil until smooth. 

4. Add salt and pepper to taste. 

5. Drizzle soup with pesto and rapeseed oil. (Store remainder in freezer or refrigerate for up to two weeks.)

The story:

In 2005, my mom and I met my dad and sister in Dublin, after they had finished visiting some 

View of other Hebrides,
just before ascending the In Pinn

sites in England, Germany and Netherlands related to my dad's research. After a few days there, we spent the rest of our holiday in Scotland, where my father's family lived a mere 300 years ago. I had originally wanted to hike the West Highland Way, and although I was soundly overruled on that point, I did manage to coax everyone a bit further east to the Isle of Skye so I could go rock climbing. Though no one joined me in the Black Cuillin, we all loved the island. We stopped for lunch one day at the Three Chimneys, where I had cream of Jerusalem artichoke soup as my first course.

Skye landscape, near the Three Chimneys

A few years later, I searched for a recipe and found one quite similar to this in The Guardian. The original didn't have the chestnut pesto, but it's a fantastic addition. This soup reminds me of the delightful coziness of a misty summer day on Skye. It remains one of my favorite places in the world, and I hope I'll return (and see more of the Hebrides) someday soon. (I loved it so much, I contemplated naming my son Skye - unfortunately, soap opera girls have co-opted that spelling. I still think it might be suitable as a middle name for a future son or daughter.) 

Butternut squash, tomato and chickpea stew

Ingredients:
Butter, 1 tbsp
Olive oil, 1 tbsp
Yellow onion, medium, diced, 1
Garlic, crushed and finely chopped, 4-5 cloves
Cinnamon, freshly ground, 1 tsp (or 1 cinnamon stick)
Coriander seeds, 1 tsp
Smoked paprika, 1/2 tsp
Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
Butternut squash, large, peeled and diced, with seeds set aside for roasting
Chickpeas, drained, 12 oz
Diced or crushed tomatoes, 12 oz
Fresh lemon juice, 2 tbsp
Chicken or vegetable broth, 2 cups
Green olives, pitted and slivered (or whole if you want to add them early, in step 6)
Cilantro, finely chopped
Red quinoa

Directions:

1. Rinse the butternut squash seeds, spread them on a foil-lined tray and sprinkle with coarse sea salt. Roast at 400˚F until crunchy. Set aside.
2. Heat butter and olive oil in a Dutch oven over medium heat, until shimmering and melted.
3. Add onion, garlic, cinnamon, coriander, paprika, salt and pepper.
4. Cook, stirring occasionally until spices are aromatic and onions are soft and translucent, about 5-7 minutes.
5. Add squash and more salt and pepper to taste. Stir and cook about 3 minutes.
6. Add broth, chickpeas, tomatoes, and lemon juice. You can also add whole green olives now.
7. Bring to a boil, then reduce to low. Cover and simmer until squash tender, about 10 minutes.
8. While stew is simmering, cook the red quinoa.
9. Serve stew over quinoa, sprinkled with roasted squash seeds and cilantro.

The story:
On January 21, 2013, I came home from work, kissed my son, ate some dinner, watched the news...and checked my e-mail. And then my heart sank to my knees. With trembling hands, I dialed the number of an old friend in Philadelphia, someone I hadn't spoken to more than two years. And then, for the first time in life, I physically fell to the ground when he confirmed my worst fears. This recipe belongs to the memory of my friend Melissa, who was smart, beautiful, funny, and always honest with me when I needed grounding in reality, who had done so much but still had so much more to do when she met the wrong person, on the wrong day.

Two weeks later, I flew to Philadelphia for Melissa's funeral and memorial service. I lived there for just one year but my memories of the city - and influence that CHOP had on the kind of doctor I have become - are outsize. Initially, moving there from Atlanta was something of a culture shock, but I've learned that as long as the food is good, I can make any place into home, for awhile. I've also learned that a shared love of good food is as good a reason for starting a friendship - or relationship - as any other. Melissa and I got to know each other over brunch and rock climbing. She was there for both my first meal out in my new city, at Tria, and my last, zucchini pancakes at Morning Glory, before I hopped on a plane postcall and moved across the country. In between, we shared pho and tom kha gai, dolmas and syrupy Greek wine, salatin and lamb pastilla, mussels and Belgian beer, yuzu ceviche and chorizo fried rice... If all we ever really have is the moment...well, we had a lot of well-fed moments.

From the moment I landed in Philly, I was struck over and over again by the generosity and friendship from people I had known for such a short time, so long ago - friendship cast in sharp relief by our shared grief. One friend - whom I had not seen in two years - picked me up at the airport (sparing me the usual frustrations of shepherding baby and luggage and carseat out to a taxi) and drove me to house of another former colleague and friend, who had offered to host me and my son for dinner so I would not have to take a cranky baby to a restaurant after a long day travelling. She cooked a spectacular stew of butternut squash and chickpeas served over red quinoa, one of those outstanding recipes that I rush home and describe to my mom, so she can try to replicate it. (Okay, why don't we just ask friends, neighbors, restaurants, etc. if they will share their recipes? Good question. Our way is just more fun.) My son was hesitant at first, but he now loves it (leave off the seeds for older infants and toddlers), and I'm looking forward to taking him back to Philly when he's a little older.

In celebration of Melissa Ketunuti

To make a donation to the fellowship in infectious diseases and global health endowed in Melissa's name at CHOP:

Click here, then click on "Ways to Give" to make a gift online or "Donate Now" on the right, select "Other" under "Fund Designation" and type in "Melissa Ketunuti Fund"