Photographs by Gareth Sambidge
Both plums and cucumber’s seasons are slowly grinding to a halt. Growing up, our next-door neighbours had a plum tree that hung over our garden, offering juicy fruit just out of reach for me and my little brother for the majority of the summer. Looking back, our neighbours Joan and Charles wouldn’t have cared one iota about us plucking the plums. But we would make it our stealth mission to completely fly under the radar, plonking my brother on a makeshift observation tower (a precariously placed step stool) while I filled my pockets. Towards the end of September, once the plums began to fall with abundance and pile up in our garden, quickly turning into a funky smelling sticky slime, we’d put on wellies and do a celebratory jump and slide through the garden, literally covered in plum mulch. Mum did not love this, I can tell you that.
Nowadays, as the plum and cucumber seasons come to a close, once I’ve tired of plum tarts, jams and compotes, and cucumber-based salads, I like to try to look at these things anew before I set my sights on root vegetables for the coming winter. A former head chef’s voice always rings in my ear during recipe development: “Tell me something new about the star of the dish,” he’d say.
With plums, the point where my brother and I were wearing them head to toe would have been a good time to try the fruit with the seconf recipe in this feature, where ripe plums are roasted with cabbage, which collapse and dissolve, becoming the sticky dressing for their roasting tray’s bedfellow. The result is unexpected, yet highly addictive. Plums offer an amazing foil for something as deeply savoury as a cabbage, with a sourness that is more pronounced by the addition of lime juice and the slight bitterness of the charred cabbage leaves.
In the first recipe, I share a dish for grilled cucumbers. Only baby cucumbers will do for this, with their thin skin, firm texture and high density of flavour, allowing them to withstand the heat and become, somehow, more akin to a courgette, yet lighter and crunchier. It is a total revelation. You can purchase these at organic food shops mostly, though I have seen them on occasion on a supermarket shelf. If you have a barbecue on the go, these would be even better for a lick of live fire, as long as you still salt them before cooking to ensure their texture is firmed and they are seasoned all the way through – much like you would a steak – and that you only cook them on the cut side, so not to soften them too much and lose their bite.
Related articles:
I love tzatziki. I love it so much that I’ve reconfigured it here to make it the star of the show, with a few untraditional starring guests. Grilled cucumbers might seem a little strange, but they take on such a different character after being cooked, and are more able to stand up to bold flavour pairings without disappearing into a puddle. Do make sure you use the baby cucumber variety – it is their concentrated flavour and denser texture that makes this dish sing. Serves 4. Ready in 35 minutes.
olive oil 5 tbspfennel 1, halved, tough outer leaves removed and cut into small dicetable salt 1 tspgarlic 1 clove, finely choppedcurry leaves 5g, stalk removedlime juice 3 tbspagave syrup 1 tbsppomegranate seeds 50g
For the garlic yoghurt:5% Greek yoghurt 300ggarlic cloves 2, finely grateddried mint ½ tbspsalt a good pinch
For the grilled cucumbers:Lebanese cucumbers 600g, halved lengthwisesalt ½ tsp
Heat the olive oil in a saucepan set over a medium heat. Add the fennel and salt and sauté for 4 minutes, stirring regularly, until the fennel is beginning to soften. Stir in the garlic and curry leaves and sauté for a further 4-5 minutes, until the curry leaves are crisp and the garlic is soft.
Decant into a bowl, allow to cool a little before adding in the lime juice, agave syrup and pomegranate seeds. In a separate bowl, stir together the ingredients for the garlic yoghurt and set to one side.
Lay the halved cucumbers on a baking sheet, sprinkle with the salt and then mix with your hands so it’s evenly distributed. Allow to sit for 5-10 minutes, until they release their liquid. Pat this excess liquid dry with a paper towel.
Set a wide saucepan on a high heat. You’ll need to cook your cucumbers in 2-3 batches, but once hot, place the first batch of cucumbers cut side down and allow to cook for about 5 minutes, until they are blackened and a little burnished. Don’t flip them – you still want to retain some crunch and freshness. Transfer the first batch to a plate, then repeat with the remaining cucumbers.
To serve, spread the garlic yoghurt onto a plate, top with the cucumbers and sprinkle over the salsa.
Serves 3-4 as a side. Ready in 45 minutes.
When you roast plums in this way with the cabbage slices, they collapse and dissolve into the cabbage, creating a sweet, tangy dressing. Do make sure the plums are ripe and soft – it is also a great way to use overripe plums, especially when the season is drawing to a close and you’re left with a glut.
savoy cabbage 1, cut into 8 equal wedgesripe plums 300g, halved, destoned and each cut into 8 slicesolive oil 4 tbsptable salt 1 tbsp
For the dressing:brown sugar 40gwater 100ml star anise 5 lime juice 3 tbspsoy sauce 1 tbspground cinnamon ½ tsp fish sauce/vegan fish sauce 1 tsp
For the garnishroasted peanuts 40g, roughly choppedcoriander 15g, roughly chopped
Preheat oven to 220C/gas mark 7 . Bring a large pot of salted water to the boil. Add the cabbage and cook for 3 minutes, until the leaves are bright green. Strain and allow to cool and steam dry in the colander for 10 minutes or so. Add to a large lined baking tray along with the plums, oil and salt. Toss so it’s all coated in the oil, then roast for 20-25 minutes, turning halfway, until the cabbage leaves are crisp at the edges, and the plums have collapsed and turned jammy.
While the cabbage is roasting, add the sugar, water and star anise to a small pan and set on a medium-high heat. Simmer for 10-15 minutes, until reduced by half, then strain the syrup into a small bowl, discarding the star anise and allow to cool. Stir in the lime, soy sauce, cinnamon and fish sauce.
Remove the baking paper from the cabbage, then pour over the dressing and toss together thoroughly. Transfer to a serving dish and garnish with the peanuts and coriander.
Helen Graham is a chef and food writer in London
Editor’s note: our recommendations are chosen independently by our journalists. The Observer may earn a small commission if a reader clicks a link and purchases a recommended product. This revenue helps support Observer journalism.