Casting about for a way to glamorize a turkey preparation, my gaze fell upon a bunch of plump, seeded purple grapes I had purchased at the farmers’ market. I like the seeded varieties for their winy flavor
Ribier grapes with mustard seeds and peppercorns. Other suitable purple seeded grapes for mostarda are Concords, the grape of Welch’s juice and American grape jelly, and Zantes, also called champagne grapes (left whole because they’re quite small).
Photos by Rick Wise
and crunchy seeds, and I thought of the Italian delicacy mostarda, a specialty condiment of Northern Italy originally based on the residue, called “must,” left after crushing grapes for wine. (All parts of the grape are full of good-for-you anti-oxidants.) Over time, mostarda was such a runaway hit that inevitable variations popped up, some with pears, some with apples or quince, some, like the most famous one, mostarda di Cremona, without any grape must, just mixed fruit in syrup. For my rendition, I combined the grapes, including seeds, halved but not crushed, added some mustard seeds to accentuate the mostarda aspect–it’s not clear if the mostarda name is based on the must or the mustard, a key ingredient–and some cracked black peppercorns for a high kick. Wow!
Grape mostarda with grape stem.
The recipe was originally published in the glorious but short-lived Williams-Sonoma Taste magazine. I make it often in grape season to add verve to poultry, pork, beef, and lamb dishes. It’s especially good with Thanksgiving turkey. If you don’t relish the crunch of seeds and prefer a smoother style, substitute purple seedless grapes. A hint: to keep the peppercorns from flying all over when you strike them with the mallet, place them on a paper towel, fold it over to enclose them, then hammer away.
Makes about 1 1/2 cups
1 tablespoon yellow mustard seeds
1 1/2 pounds purple grapes with seeds, rinsed, stemmed, and halved
1 tablespoon black peppercorns, cracked with a mallet
1 tablespoon powdered mustard, preferably Coleman’s
1/4 cup sugar
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 tablespoon water
1. Spread the mustard seeds on a microwave plate or in a small ungreased heavy skillet and toast on high or over medium-high heat until just beginning to pop, about 2 minutes either way. Transfer the seeds to a large bowl.
2. Add the remaining ingredients to the bowl and stir to mix. Microwave on high, stirring every 5 minutes, until bubbling and thickened enough to lightly coat a spoon, from 15 to 20 minutes, depending on the juiciness of the grapes. (Keep in mind, grapes have a lot of natural pectin and the mixture will thicken considerably as it cools.) Remove and let cool completely before using. Will keep refrigerated for up to 6 weeks. Alternatively, stir together the mustard seeds and remaining ingredients in a medium-size saucepan over medium heat and cook, stirring occasionally, until done as above, about 30 to 40 minutes.
This Grape Mostarda was a big hit in several areas – very easy to prepare, unusual, and delicious. My only problem in preparation was attempting to use a mallet to crush the peppercorns – they were blasted all over the kitchen. There must be some less explosive technique that I’m not familiar with. Lacking that, I resorted to a pepper grinder – which reduces the crunchy effect. Used the microwave for the heating stage (15 minutes) and that went pretty smoothly. Probably should have heated for several additional minutes to get more thickening after it cooled.
The Mostarda was served with grilled chicken, rice, and salad during an Election Night watch party and drew raves. Several people asked for the recipe saying they’d use it at Thanksgiving in place of cranberry sauce. Thanks – this is a real keeper.
You’re welcome; I love it when someone loves one of my recipes and I get to hear about it! The peppercorn incident is amusing, also annoying, I imagine, cleaning up the mess. I fixed the recipe to say how to avoid this. Hope that helps.