A proper palate-reset that tastes like a Highland autumn.
Sea buckthorn grows wild on the Highland coast and by September it's singing with tartness. This is what happens when you catch that moment and pair it with a proper crisp green apple from a local orchard. The ash salt? That's just a nod to wood smoke and moorland—it grounds something bright and clean into something memorable.
Peel, core, and roughly chop your Granny Smiths. Don't fuss—they'll soften soon enough. Toss them into a heavy-bottomed pan with the 100ml water and bring to a gentle simmer. You want them soft and yielding in about 8–10 minutes, not a pulp.
Once apples are tender, stir in the sea buckthorn berries and sugar. Let them warm through for 2–3 minutes—you'll smell the brightness coming alive. Don't boil hard; this isn't jam.
Pour everything into a blender (let it cool for 5 minutes first, unless you fancy a steam burn). Blitz until smooth. Taste it. Add lemon juice and adjust sugar if it's too tart or too sweet. You're after a balanced punch.
Pass the mixture through a fine sieve into a bowl. Get out the back of a spoon and push through gently—you'll lose some pulp, but you'll gain clarity. Chill in the fridge for at least 30 minutes, or overnight if you can wait.
If you have an ice-cream machine, churn according to its instructions (usually 20–25 minutes). If not, pour into a shallow container and freeze for 3 hours, stirring every 45 minutes with a fork to break up crystals. You want a granita-like texture or soft serve—not solid ice.
Just before serving, sprinkle a tiny pinch of ash salt (or sea salt) over each portion. Not enough to taste salty—just enough to make you wonder what's happening. It's the secret knock on the door.
“Scoop into a chilled glass or small bowl. The sorbet should be pale golden-green, with a slight shimmer. A pinch of ash salt on top. That's it. No flourish, no micro-leaf nonsense. Let the thing speak for itself. Serve immediately, while it's still cold.”
First spoonful is all tart apple and a floral brightness from the sea buckthorn—you're awake now. Middle palate settles into something almost creamy, though there's no cream here; that's texture. Finish is clean, almost saline from the ash salt, with a whisper of smoke. The kind of thing that resets your mouth and makes you want another course.
Dry, saline, and angular—speaks to the ash salt and sea buckthorn's maritime edge.
Light, crisp, slightly hoppy—won't overwhelm the palate-cleanser's delicate work.
Lets the sorbet be the star. A touch of apple water echoes the main ingredient without stealing the show.
Cooked this dish? Snap a photo, share it here. No filter, no fuss — the good, the wonky, the accidentally set-fire-to.
Sign in to share your photo of this dish.
No one's cooked this yet — be the first.