Frugtsuppe med Sagogryn

There's a stretch in January and February when Danish markets go quiet. The summer berries are a distant memory, the apples from the last harvest are softening in their crates, and the nearest thing to fresh fruit is whatever the pantry has kept for you. This is when frugtsuppe comes out. It's the soup of the dried fruit drawer, of prunes and raisins and apricots that have been waiting for their moment, and their moment is now.

Frugtsuppe med sagogryn belongs to the old Danish sodsuppe tradition, the sweet soups that were once a weeknight staple in every home with a grandmother in the kitchen. My own mormor made hers in a tall enamel pot that lived on the back of the stove all afternoon, the smell of cinnamon and stewed prunes pulling everyone into the kitchen before dinner was even ready. It's a dish that carries memory. The sago pearls are the detail that makes it Danish: small translucent beads that thicken the soup into something glossy and almost pudding-like, a texture no other sweet soup has.

Pay attention to two things, and the rest takes care of itself. The sago needs to be stirred in gently and cooked until the pearls turn clear, with only a tiny white dot left in the middle. That's how you know. And the sherry goes in at the very end, off the heat, so its warmth doesn't cook away. Serve it warm if the evening calls for comfort, or cold the next day straight from the fridge, which is how half of Denmark actually loves it. Either way, pour cream over the top. Don't stir it in. That ribbon of pale white against the dark fruit is part of the dish.