The very unknown griottes

I take a spoonful out of the jar, not too much or too little, and slowly spread it on a slice of fresh goat cheese. It is at that moment I wish the room would be silent so that I could enjoy that most perfectly made bite of cheese and griotte cherry jam. I must admit, it is something that makes my heart skip a beat, almost like I have fallen in love all over again. Most probably, I do fall in love every time I have that bite, who knows, but it happens every time I taste the sourness of those gorgeous, light, and even transparent cherries that here, in France, are called griottes (morello in English).

Although so popular in jams and spirits in shops, freshly harvested sour cherries are quite hard to spot at the markets. Sadly, they do suffer from the fame of their beloved cousins — sweet cherries, and next to those many generous boxes of sweet cherries, they look even a bit sad, neatly placed in that one box, jealously observing how everything disappears before them. On the other hand, to those like me who like that touch of sourness in a cherry much better than overwhelming sweetness, it is a pure joy to spot a box like this, as this is the moment the heart starts to beat a bit faster. Hands always add a bit too much to that paper bag given by the farmer.

I do like to indulge in them just as they are, only then transforming them into jam, cake, or sauce. Maybe a spirit, even one day. So to me, griotte, so light and sexy, sitting there at the market, is pure gold, and with the season so short, even more.

The jam to look for Tango des Saveurs