Nigel Slater's runner bean chutney and simple pear tart recipes (2024)

For thoughtful cooks, the question now is how to preserve the last of the summer's vegetables for winter. I was reminded of this on an allotment last week, where families were despairing of their late-season gluts of tomatoes and beans and marrows. An embarrassment of apples is easy enough to deal with, either packing them in newspaper if they are the thick-skinned sort that keep, or slicing them, tossing with lemon juice and sugar and freezing them, ready for crumbles and winter breakfasts of stewed apple. But the beans and marrows are another matter.

Our recent return to hands-on cooking and crafts is shown nowhere better than in the renaissance of chutney making. It is not something I ever dreamed of doing. In fact, I suspect I may have avowed never to go near a preserving jar. But times change, and I like the common sense that lies at the heart of preserving food for later that would otherwise go on the compost, or worse, in a bin. Even if it does have me eating my words.

The last of the year's runner beans, a bit stringy now for serving as a vegetable, make cracking chutney if you treat them as you might a cauliflower, and make a piccalilli-style preserve with them. I found them cheaply at the market and still plentiful on all the allotments I visited. My own – Red Rum – are now long, heavy and laughably tough. Perfect chutney fodder, in fact.

If I am going to eat chutney at all, it needs to be nicely balanced but capable of giving a bit of a kick to anything it is partnered with. That may well be nothing more than a Sunday-night sandwich, but I am finding posh pubs, too, are plonking it on the side of everything from fish cakes to vegetable tarts. I have yet to meet a terrine whose overriding meatiness wasn't improved by a dollop of pickle or chutney.

The wait for several weeks for your preserved vegetables to mellow will help to break down the tougher bit of marrow skin or bean pod, but it is still worth stringing your beans. Snap the stalk off then pull slowly down and the tough string will come with it. If it doesn't, a small knife will do the trick. This year's pickle had me cutting the beans very finely on the diagonal. You get a subtle crunch that way rather than big lumps to chew. They do, though, tend to hang out of your sandwich. I threw some tomatoes in, too, as I am trying to get rid of the ones scattered round the back door.

Pears, the fruit of the month, are known for resolutely refusing to ripen, then suddenly going over the hill in a day or more. They need an eagle eye. Thick-skinned pears such as the ever-popular Conference take life at a more leisurely pace. If you have some that are softer than you may wish, use them in a tart. They stay firmer than apples when cooked, but this is not necessarily a bad thing. I baked several that had ripened at once this week in a simple open tart, tossing the chopped fruits with light muscovado sugar and making a pudding that was little more than crust and fruit. The crust is exceptionally buttery though, which flatters the purity of the pears. You need a lot of flour on your board to roll it out and maybe even need to be a dab hand at patchwork.

RUNNER-BEAN CHUTNEY

String the beans, removing the stalks. Thinly slice each bean, cutting diagonally to give fine shreds about 4 or 5cm long. Bring a pan of water to the boil, add the beans and cook for a full minute. Drain and set aside.

Mix the mustards, turmeric, sugar, salt and half the cider vinegar in a small basin. Dice the tomatoes then add to the vinegar and onions, stir in the beans and mustard mixture then add the remaining cider vinegar. Bring to the boil, then simmer for 15 minutes, stirring regularly. The beans should be tender, but still bright in colour.

Remove 2 or 3 tbsp of liquid and use it to mix the cornflour to a paste. Stir gently back into the beans. Leave to simmer for a minute or two until the mixture has thickened slightly. Ladle into warm, sterilised preserving jars and seal.

A SIMPLE PEAR TART

For the filling:
small, ripe pears 1kg
butter 15g
light muscovado sugar 3 lightly heaped tbsp

You will need a traditional rimmed pie plate for this, about 18cm across the base, 24cm across the top. Make the pastry: cut the butter into small dice and put into the bowl of a food mixer, pour in the sugar and beat for five minutes to a smooth, thick cream. On a low speed setting add the egg yolk, then the plain flour, then bring to a soft, rollable ball with a couple of tbsp of milk.

Turn the dough out on to a generously floured board. Knead softly for a minute or two to make it easier to work then roll it out into a disc large enough to line your pie plate. Lift the pastry on to the tart tin and press it into shape. Trim the edges and patch up holes. Refrigerate for 30 minutes.

Set the oven at 180C/gas mark 4. Place a baking sheet in the oven. It will help to cook the pastry on the bottom of the tart. Cut the pears into quarters, peeling them if their skins are coarse, then remove their cores and slice each piece into 1cm-wide chunks. Melt the butter in a pan and add the pears to it, then the sugar, leaving them to cook for 10 minutes until the fruit becomes translucent. If they are ready, the pears should effortlessly take the point of a knife.

Lift the pears from the pan into the chilled tart shell with a draining spoon. Boil any juices remaining in the pan until you have a few tbsp left, then spoon over the pears. Bake for 40 minutes until the pastry crust is golden brown at the edges and the pears have lightly coloured here and there.

Email Nigel at nigel.slater@observer.co.uk or visit theguardian.com/profile/nigelslater for all his recipes in one place