Marionberry Shortcakes

I had never heard of a marionberry (except for the former mayor of Washington, D.C.) who is in no way connected to the berry, which you can tell because he spells his last name "Barry." Then, after I tasted them, even frozen, I got all sulky: why do marionberries only grow in Oregon? What's so special about Oregon? Why don't they grow in Minnesota? (Answer: they like warm days and cool nights in the summer and temperate winters). Why can't I buy them in Minnesota? I can buy pineapple. I found out that everyone's crazy about marionberries. The Oregon legislature wanted to make it the state berry of Oregon, something that you'd think everyone could get behind. But the raspberry growers got all bent out of shape, and accused the legislature of being anti-raspberry. Anyway, I liked these marionberries a lot.
I also liked being able to use my Mary Ann pans. (I always want to call them Mary Janes, but those are shoes, aren't they?)

They're just little sponge cakes, and not difficult to make except for the beurre noisette. It's a sign of how far I've come that I can now read a recipe and just say to myself, "oh, just make a little beurre noisette," instead of "what the heck is she making me do now?" Just to make things interesting, I decided to time exactly how long it took for the butter to turn the right shade of brown on low heat. 16 minutes. If I had the nerve, the next time I'd just turn the heat to low, set the timer for 16 minutes, and go work on the crossword. But I won't.

This is another one of those cakes that's based on the miraculous transformation that eggs make after being beaten for five minutes. After three minutes, I looked at the eggs and I thought, "Those are done enough." Because I'm a rule-follower, I continued for the entire five minutes plus one more for good measure. I'm so glad I did!

Just a few hours later, I happened to be reading a story on Rose's blog where she talks about her only failed genoise. And why did it fail? Because she made the mistake of thinking, “Why do I have to beat the eggs and sugar for five whole minutes on high when after three minutes they look thick enough and don't seem to be getting any thicker or fuller in the bowl?" The exact question I asked myself! However, because I was more dutiful at following Rose's instructions than she was at following her own, my genoise did not fail.

If any of you had trouble finding frozen marionberries, this is what they look like--from the frozen foods section at Whole Foods.

At least, I am assuming they were the real thing. Apparently there is a big problem with counterfeit marionberries, which are harder to grow and more costly than regular, bigger, seedier, less tasty blackberry varieties. Some people are paying top dollar for the fake marionberries, and then wondering what all the fuss is about.

I sugared them lightly and doused them with framboise (misreading the directions, which do not call for the framboise to be added until the syrup is made--however, I don't think it hurt a thing).

The final thing to do before composing the shortcakes was to whip some lightly sweetened creme fraiche--easier than whipping cream. I warned people that it would be tarter than whipped cream, fearing that someone would think the cream had gone bad, but everyone loved it. Jim insists he likes it better than whipped cream. I'm not sure I'd go that far, but it did seem to go exceptionally well with the faintly exotic marionberries.

I served this for dessert after making Korean lettuce wraps for dinner. You wouldn't think that would be a match made in heaven, but the shortcakes were a surprisingly appropriate ending for the meal.
I bought three bags of frozen marionberries, so I have plenty left for another batch. It's hard to repeat recipes when a new one is calling out to you every week, but I'll have to find time for more of these lovely summer treats.

TASTING PANEL:
Pat" "Very good. I love the berries and the creme fraiche. In fact, the cake is my least favorite part of the dessert."
Lisa: "I think all three components are equally good. The cake could be just a touch less sweet, but then I'm very sensitive to sweetness."
Jim: "Delicious. I like the way the syrup soaks into the cake, and I like the faintly caramel-y flavor of the cake. What makes it taste like that?"