Red Currant Clafoutis

The only currants (or les groseilles) I’ve ever had in America were dried, shriveled specimens imported from Europe. So, when I spotted fresh red currants, which initially I thought were lingonberries, it was an instant buy. They are eye-catching and pretty to look at, like shiny, little spherical rubies or large salmon roe growing on a stick.

I think the dried currants I’ve had were all laced with sugar, or something similar. I was expecting a mini-grape, when I should’ve been expecting a mini cranberry. Boy, are these babies tart! I see why they’re so often made into a coulis that’s used as dessert topping. It really cuts into the sweetness to add that extra depth of flavor.

Besides its use as a condiment, like a jelly or jam, I fail to see why anyone would want to consume this vibrant berry, especially when it’s fresh. You can’t just eat it, like a bowl of cherries. I can see a red currant lemonade, perhaps. There’s just no way to avoid adding some sort of sweetener to it.

When I mentioned to my French tutor how I wasn’t a huge fan of currants, she was surprised. Apparently, she loves eating them straight! I get chills just thinking about it. Clearly, I wasn’t getting it, so she clued me in. She said to make clafoutis with my leftover currants. I had completely forgotten about this baked dessert! As soon as our lesson was done, I went downstairs to make a red currant, Rainier cherry, saffron clafoutis. (I had some bomb-ass Iranian saffron that needed to be used).

She was right. Clafoutis was the best solution for the red currants I couldn’t finish. I just love how simple clafoutis is to make. It was such a delight to bake again after not having an oven for three months. And like crêpes, you can be creative and invent any flavor you like. I have some chopped pineapples in the fridge that I think would make a great pineapple clafoutis. You’ve got to try making clafoutis. It’s easier than crêpes!