Shriveled Minds?

Am I the only person who’s annoyed by the recent “dried plums” PR campaign? Are we Americans really so stupid that the mere name of a particular food could prevent us from enjoying it?

I’ve loved prunes since I was a kid. What’s not to love? They’re like giant raisins but with a much more sophisticated flavor. I even love the taste of prune juice – a secret I kept well-guarded from my childhood friends, who teased me relentlessly just for being so bizarre as to like (gasp!) spinach. And before virtually eliminating commercial soft drinks from my life for culinary-political reasons, I loved Dr. Pepper, which I’ve heard uses prune flavor as its base. (“Virtually” means I only drink soft drinks when combined with alcohol. The thought of never again being able to enjoy Captain Morgan’s and Dr. Pepper is more than I can bear, and ever so slightly outweighs my antipathy for Big Food. I am, after all, an admitted food whore.)

And then there are prune desserts. The French are light years ahead of us on this point. Prunes are seemingly ubiquitous in French desserts, and for good reason. Their gorgeous, complex tang is a natural foil to more decadent ingredients like butter and cream. Think prunes in bread pudding, armagnac-soaked prunes with vanilla ice cream, and port-stewed prunes with creme fraiche.

Prunes are also wonderful in savory dishes, and can hold their own against very strong flavors and spices. The first time I used prunes in a savory dish was about 10 years ago. It was a recipe called Chicken Marbella that I acquired from my then roommate and years later found was originally published in 1979’s The Silver Palate Cookbook by Sheila Lukins and Julee Rosso. My young, underdeveloped palate was not quite accustomed to the combination of sweet and savory flavors, so when I saw 2 cups of pitted prunes among the other ingredients – garlic, oregano, olives, capers, white wine – I was reluctant. My roommate, though, raved about the dish, so I decided to give it a try. It knocked me out, and after making it about 5 additional times that month, my fear of sweet/savory flavor combinations melted away. Best of all, though, I learned that the use of my beloved prune need not be limited to desserts.

Mention the word “prune” to the average American, though, and you’ll invariably get a wrinkled-nosed, sour look and a muttered reply involving grandmothers and constipation. Yes, my older family members drank prune juice to keep them regular, but I never understood why that bothered people so much. The bottom line for me has always been that they taste so damned good. I never cared that they could also be used to relieve irregularity, a benefit that now, as I get older, I very much appreciate.

In her wonderful cookbook The New American Cooking, Joan Nathan includes a revealing little tidbit about the prunes vs. dried plums phenomenon. Apparently, when a Houston television station performed a taste test, 90% of people preferred dried plums to prunes. Sadly, I think that says it all.

If I can look past the fact that companies like Sunsweet are now further polluting the planet by individually packaging (!) prunes, I guess I can see silver lining in all this stupidity. The increased PR for “dried plums” (grrrrrr) could mean that they will appear more frequently in American cooking, and I’m all for that. But the phrase “dried plums” will never roll off my tongue. No matter how out of fashion it may sound, they will always be prunes to me.

Chicken Marbella
Reprinted from The New American Cooking, by Joan Nathan. Originally published in The Silver Palate Cookbook, by Sheila Lukins and Julee Rosso.

This is a great recipe for a dinner party, since you can assemble it beforehand and just pop it into the oven 40 minutes before dinner. Joan Nathan writes that she likes to double the amount of prunes when she makes it.

Ingredients:

6 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts, halved
1 full bulb garlic, finely pureed
1/4 cup dried oregano
Coarse salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
1/2 cup red wine vinegar
1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 cups pitted prunes
1 cup of pitted green olives, or a mix of olives, such as Greek, Moroccan or French
1/2 cup capers with about a tablespoon of their juice
6 bay leaves
1 cup of brown sugar
1 cup of white wine
1/2 cup chopped fresh Italian parsley

1. Place the chicken in a large bowl. Cover it with the garlic, oregano, salt, pepper, vinegar, olive oil, prunes, olives, capers and juice, and bay leaves. Rub the chicken well with the marinade, and refrigerate, covered, ideally overnight, but at least for 2 hours.

2. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

3. Arrange the chicken in a single layer in 1 or 2 large, shallow baking pans and spoon marinade over evenly. Sprinkle with brown sugar, and pour white wine around, but not on, the chicken.

4. Bake for about 40 minutes, basting every 10 minutes with the pan juices.

5. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the chicken, prunes, ollives and capers to a serving platter. Moisten with a few spoonfuls of pan juices, and sprinkle with the parsley. Pass the remaining pan juices in a separate bowl.

Yield: 10-12 servings