This campfire slump gives the same impression as a cobbler but without the necessity of baking.Tara O'Brady/The Globe and Mail
I am a cook who prioritizes properly satisfying meals, no matter the surroundings. So while I don't have a tripod stand or even one of those Dutch ovens with the skinny legs, I have learned how to adapt my kitchen kit to cooking around a campfire (and at the cottage).
For me, a regimented meal plan is a non-negotiable necessity. A vacation cooking strategy allays fears of being unprepared, a big deal for those of us who count unfettered access to pantry stocks a creature comfort. My key is skewing bold with seasonings, carrying a cluster of dried chiles in a repurposed pill case along with pinch provisions of multipurpose spices and dried herbs, plus tubes of anchovy or umami paste and Marmite for gutsy salinity. I am sure not to forget the buoyant twang of citrus and vinegars. Or hot sauce. Or mustard. There's no need to lug around an enormous quantity of any one, but these are high-impact ingredients that can save rustic cooking from mediocrity.
With such a plan, I do my best to prepare as much as I can before departure. This cuts down on what we carry and also minimizes prep, which is needed when one is sunbaked and tired. I recruit for this endeavour – getting the kids involved at home cuts down slightly on the frequency of the "what's for dinner" question as they already know the game plan, and I find they're more inclined to help with cooking when the time comes as they feel part of the process.
We make dry mixes for pancakes and skillet cornbread with the instructions written in Sharpie on the outside of the container. We fill jars with robust salads that will be none the worse for wear after a car ride, such as marinated beans and kale, or a layered construction with shredded carrots in a harissa dressing on the bottom, then chickpeas, cherry tomatoes, topped with greens and mint – for same-day eating, I sneak some feta in too.
For campfire occasions when dessert beyond s'mores feels needed, I suggest a fruit slump, which gives the same impression as a cobbler but without the necessity of baking. Simply, a slump is stewed fruit with a biscuit-ish dumpling topping. Cooked under a lid, the batter steams and fluffs, so what were discrete mounds of dough swell up to impressively crenellated proportions.
My camp-friendly rendition has the dry ingredients assembled in advance with the fruit chopped on site, and is brash with both fragrance and a hint of heat. Marked with Chinese five spice, the dumplings taste very much like summery-gingerbreadish spiced doughnut holes, and a sprinkling of coarse sugar before serving helps underscore the effect. (Bonus tip: a couple packets of raw sugar from a coffee stop on the way to camp will be enough for the recipe if you don't want to carry it from home.)
This slump is vegan, with both coconut milk and its oil in place of dairy, so what's more, the ingredients won't take up valuable space in the cooler. Flaked coconut provides a hint of structure; thus, even as the dumplings wallow in the exuberant claret juice coaxed from a mess of scarcely-sweetened berries and rhubarb, they do not succumb to gumminess. Candied ginger sparkles in the filling.
A purist might sniff at the suggestion of tinned custard, but it is sublime here. There is no worry about food safety, but if you have the means to put a bit of a chill on the can – either in a cooler or in a sealed bag in a stream – the shiver of cold, lush custard meeting up with the jammy fruit beneath is something special. Alternatively, offer the slump for breakfast with maple syrup and yogurt, if you have it.
Notes
As pictured, the slump was made with a mix of rhubarb, blueberries and strawberries. However, any fruit used for pies and cobblers will work here; stone fruit, cherries and apples are all candidates.
Up to half the amount of all-purpose flour can be swapped with rye flour. Rye is exceptional in desserts with fruit. I like using a 3/4 cup or so. For a more roughly hewn texture to the topping, substitute white cornmeal for some of the flour instead.
For the lime zest, use a grater if you have one or just cut it off in slices with a knife, then fish the pieces out before adding the topping.
A beaten egg added to the batter with the coconut milk will add richness, but cut back a bit on the milk to balance the extra liquid.
Cooking times will be dependent on the temperature of the fire, use the sensory clues as the definitive guidelines.
Five Spice Coconut Campfire Slump
Servings: 8
Dry mix
2 1/2 cups all purpose flour (see note)
1/4 cup flaked coconut
1/4 cup packed light brown sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon Chinese five-spice powder
1 teaspoon medium grain kosher salt
A few grindings black pepper
Fruit and assembly
2 1/2 pounds fruit suited to stewing (see note)
1/2 cup to 3/4 cup light brown sugar, depending on sweetness of fruit
1 to 2 tablespoons finely chopped crystallized ginger
1 lime
1 vanilla bean, split lengthways
Medium grain kosher salt, as needed
3 tablespoons tapioca flour or cornstarch
Water, as needed
1/2 cup coconut oil
1 cup light coconut milk
Coarse sugar
Canned custard, maple syrup, or yogurt, to serve
Method
Before leaving home, mix the dry mix together in an airtight container – a self-sealing bag, Mason jar, whatever works.
To make the slump, cut the fruit into reasonable bite size-pieces into a 4-quart Dutch oven or a heavy bottomed skillet of a similar capacity with a lid. Stir in the sugar, along with the ginger, the juice and zest from half the lime, the vanilla bean, and a good pinch of salt. Cover and set aside.
Get a fire going nicely. After the initial burn has settled down, place a grate over top with clearance underneath; between 4 to 6 inches is good, depending on how hot the fire is burning. Set the oven on the grate and simmer the fruit, partially covered and stirring occasionally, until barely tender, 5 to 8 minutes. Stir the tapioca starch with enough water to make a slurry, then fold into the fruit. Pull the pot away from the heat if bubbling too fiercely, then taste for seasoning. It might need a bit extra salt or more lime.
Make the topping. Pour the dry mix into a bowl. If the coconut oil is solid, rub it into the dry mix to make a soft meal. If the oil is liquid, make a well in the centre of the dry ingredients and pour it in the middle. In both cases, then pour in the coconut milk and stir until a tender dough; if it seems dry, add water, a little at a time, until the dough is damp but not at all sodden. It should mound nicely on the spoon and hold its shape. Resist any inclination to overmix.
Using two spoons scrape generous clumps of batter on top of the bubbling fruit. Cover completely and let cook gently and undisturbed over a moderate heat for 20 minutes or so. Keep an ear on the pot to make sure it doesn’t sound like it's boiling too hard or your topping will be tough. After the time is up, take a peek under the lid – the topping should be puffed and bouncy, and the fruit churning thickly in exposed rivulets. Delicately press the topping to ensure it’s springy and cooked through. Replace the cover and cook for a few minutes more if they feel mushy and without structure. Allow to cool for 5 minutes, then scatter with coarse sugar and serve with lashings of custard, maple syrup or yogurt.