Four-Fruit Compote

All Saints' Day is next Monday and the preparations have already begun. In Louisiana it's not a quiet holiday — the cemeteries get cleaned and decorated, families come to the tombs with chrysanthemums and candles and bring food and sit with the dead the way you'd sit with anyone you love who has been away for a while. MawMaw organizes it for our family the way she organizes most things: firmly, completely, and without asking if anyone has objections.

Grandpa Elijah's tomb is in St. Michael's Cemetery, where the Robinson family has been since the 1890s. Several of his relatives are there with him, including great-great-grandparents whose names I know from the stories. MawMaw taught me their names when I was small and made me repeat them until I had them, which is the most important thing anyone has ever taught me and I didn't know that at the time. She knew.

The food for the cemetery visit is specific. MawMaw makes a basket: crackers and cheese, sliced muscadine grapes from the vine in her backyard, and her fig preserves on the crackers. Not a meal, not quite a snack — a sustenance for a particular kind of time. She brings enough for everyone and there are always exactly enough crackers. I don't know how she calculates this. I have stopped trying to understand it.

Priya got the Rice scholarship. She texted me three words: "you were right." I texted back: "go celebrate." She texted back a photograph of the celebratory dinner her mother had made — a full Korean spread that she labeled for me item by item. I looked at it for a long time thinking about how food is how her family says everything too. I think that might be universal. I think that might be the thing.

MawMaw’s fig preserves are not something I can replicate — they live in her hands and her timing and thirty years of knowing that particular vine — but this Four-Fruit Compote is the closest I’ve come to bottling that feeling she creates with a basket and exactly enough crackers. I made a jar of it this week, thinking about Grandpa Elijah’s tomb and Priya’s photograph and the way food is how so many of us say the things we can’t quite say out loud. It keeps well, it travels well, and it tastes like the kind of care that doesn’t need explaining.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 30 minutes | Total Time: 45 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 cup fresh or dried figs, stemmed and quartered
1 cup seedless grapes (muscadine or red), halved
1 cup fresh or frozen blueberries
1 cup diced peaches (fresh or canned in juice, drained)
1/3 cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons honey
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon lemon zest
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 cup water

Instructions

Combine the fruit. Place the figs, grapes, blueberries, and peaches into a medium heavy-bottomed saucepan. Stir gently to mix.
Add sugar and liquid. Pour in the sugar, honey, lemon juice, lemon zest, cinnamon, cloves, and water. Stir to coat the fruit evenly.
Bring to a simmer. Set the pan over medium heat and bring the mixture to a gentle simmer, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking on the bottom.
Cook down the compote. Reduce heat to medium-low and cook uncovered for 25—30 minutes, stirring every few minutes, until the fruit has broken down and the liquid has thickened to a spoonable, jam-like consistency.
Adjust and cool. Taste and add a small amount of additional honey or lemon juice if desired. Remove from heat and allow to cool for at least 15 minutes before transferring to a clean jar or serving dish.
Serve or store. Serve warm or at room temperature alongside crackers and cheese, or spread over toast. Store covered in the refrigerator for up to two weeks.

Nutrition (per serving)

Four-Fruit Compote — The Sweetness MawMaw Puts in the Basket