Quite a few posts on plums, for quite a pile of plums remains in my kitchen. My long-time friend Abby from Camaje restaurant in Greenwich Village, NYC, emailed me many years ago asking if I’d ever heard of or made a “flaugnarde”. No, I hadn’t. I’d only known of the very similar dish “clafoutis” which is apparently is technically only allowed to be called that if it’s made with sour cherries still bearing their pits. Well, if it isn’t made with sour cherries, then it’s called this instead. Since that email, I’ve made dozens of flaugnardes, with berries usually. It’s kind of fun just to say the word, which is a little tricky – have to exercise certain mouth muscles that only move when speaking French.
It’s basically a baked fruit custard. I beat four eggs together with oatley milk (my family tends to not enjoy my coconut-milk confections these days, so we gave oat milk a go), a quarter of a cup of brown rice flour, some honey, and a dash of vanilla. Here it is, about to go in to the oven.
Plum pits that I had boiled, then roasted in the oven are still waiting to be made in to bean bags, or something else – I haven’t yet decided.
When it came out of the oven, we walked over to my sister-in-law’s house for dinner. That is one reason why we came here, to be able to be near family. Ah, to be able to walk to where we wish to go! And we’re truly blessed to have such wonderful family here. We enjoyed this flaugnarde, along with a few other desserts, after a full English Sunday roast dinner. No pics of Sunday roast, sadly!