Shrubs

My mother’s cousin was almost the exact opposite of my mother and thus fascinating to me as a child.  My mother never wore any make-up other than lipstick, Aunt (that’s what I called her) Lois always had lots of make-up and beautiful, long fingernails that looked like they were just manicured.  We didn’t have fake nails then—so it was representative of the type of life she led.  She had a husband, but she also had a wealthy “uncle” who lived with her and her family and loved to lavish things on her.  She didn’t do dishes every day or break her nails doing housework—she had help for that.

She was great at giving parties, though, and I think she did her own cooking.  I know that I loved to be invited to her house—it was always something really special; beautiful dishes, hand-embroidered table linens, crystal goblets—even for lunch.  Once when I was a very young newlywed (I married at 19) my mother and I were invited to her house for a luncheon honoring my recent wedding.  Her daughter, my cousins, my grandmother and a couple of family friends were also guests.

The table was exquisite; mostly pink—even to the crystal water goblets.  I don’t remember much of the menu but one dish stood out—a scoop of lemon sherbet served in a stemmed dessert dish with apple juice poured over it.  She called it a shrub. It was served between the first course and the entrée to “cleanse the palate” she said.  It was delightfully cool and refreshing.  The flavors really complemented each other and the apple juice poured over the sherbet made it just slightly icy which gave it a lovely texture.  Such a simple dish and I have never forgotten how good it was.

Fast forward to 1999 when Zig and I bought the Candlelight Inn Bed and Breakfast in Red Wing, MN.  I was putting together breakfast menus for a three-course breakfast: starter, entrée and dessert.  I wanted some unusual first courses that were delicious, fruity and unexpected.  Suddenly I remembered Aunt Lois’ shrub.  I really wanted some whole fruit in this course so I put together lemon sherbet, fresh pineapple tidbits and sparkling apple cider.  It was a big hit.  Actually, I have been asked for the recipe repeatedly—although it is such a simple dish that you can hardly classify it as a “recipe”.  Whenever I serve it, I explain it like this, “ A shrub is like a float except instead of soda and ice cream, it is sherbet and fruit juice at its simplest—with added whole fruit for a more complex dish.” 

People often show an interest in the origin of the shrub and since I have such an extensive cookbook collection, many of which are very old, I decided to research.  Many very old cookbooks describe a shrub as a type of homemade cordial—a fruity alcoholic drink.  From Mary Randolph’s The Virginia House-Wife, first published in 1824:

CHERRY SHRUB

Gather ripe morello cherries, pick them from the stalk, and put them in an earthen pot, which must be set into an iron pot of water; make the water boil, but take care that none of it gets into the cherries; when the juice is extracted, pour it into a bag made of tolerably thick cloth, which will permit the juice to pass, but not the pulp of your cherries; sweeten it to your taste, and when it becomes perfectly clear, bottle it—put a gill of brandy into each bottle, before you pour in the juice—cover the corks with rosin.  It will keep all summer, in a dry cool place, and is delicious mixed with water.

I couldn’t find another reference to shrubs until my Betty Crocker’s Dinner For Two, 1958 edition where on page 112 a Fruit Shrub is described as follows:

Mix equal parts of chilled pineapple and orange juice.  Top with lime sherbet and serve in individual sherbet cups.  This makes a colorful appetizer for a holiday dinner.

 

This may well be where Aunt Lois found the idea for the shrub she served us.

I have found a great many combinations for shrubs since I started with the pineapple sherbet/pineapple/sparkling cider one.  Trader Joe’s carries a variety of sparkling fruit juices:  blueberry, mandarin orange, cranberry and pomegranate.  Now I like to add blueberries to lemon sherbet and pour on sparkling apple or raspberries on raspberry sherbet with the sparkling pomegranate juice.  Tiny Clementine sections or canned mandarins are great with orange sherbet and the orange sparkler.  Wild strawberry sherbet, sweetened strawberries and either apple or cranberry juice works well; only your own imagination can limit you.  One caveat:  I don’t care for the appearance of rainbow sherbet with any juice as the liquid tends to muddy the colors.  To add to the lovely appearance of this dish, add a piece of whole fruit with a stem or a sprig of mint to the side of the stemmed dish.