Archive for the 'garden fare' Category

« Previous Entries
Next Entries »

on the horizion

Published August 29, 2011 garden fare , pig brain , pig slop 8 Comments
Tags: ,
Like usual, I stood on the roadside last Friday cooling down after my late afternoon run and rifled through the mail. Continuing ed flyer from the local college, bill, bill, WI public radio fall sweepstakes form, and the New Yorker. One look this week’s cover by Istvan Banyai and I realized the source of the funk I’d been in all week. I so desperately want to pause. I want to put it all on hold. I want the the little vase of sweet pea blooms on my window sill to last forever. I want to lay down in the corn patch and stare up at the blue for as long as long as it takes. I want to disappear in a book at the beach and smile later when sand spills out into the bed. I want to live on cold-pressed iced coffee and tomato sandwiches. Is that asking so much?
My Dad and I used to play a little game with the New Yorker covers. Each week, we’d try and guess the cover caption. We’d phone in our contenders on Sunday night and whoever came the closest to the real title won a buck. He’s been gone for over six years, but I still can’t help playing the game (and by my calculations, he owes be big). I was mesmerized by this week’s cover. It sucked me in and held me. All I could think was “Pause.” I flipped a few pages in. The real title – the winning title – was “On the Horizon.” Which, in retrospect was even better. “Pause” suddenly felt a little stagnant. “On the Horizon,” though, now that holds potential.
Because as much as I want the heady smell of sweet peas to grace my kitchen, something way deep inside of me also longs for the scent of that first pot of stew, that hint of roasted garlic wafting from the oven, and the unmistakable smell of pine sap oozing from a burning log. And as much as I love my daily routine, my job, my path, it’s undeniably exciting to wonder, “what’s next? what is on the horizon?” Who knows, maybe some bit of change will sneak up on me when I least expect it.
My mood lightened as I walked down the driveway. Summer will be back. I can count on that. But I appreciated – maybe for the first time ever  – that it’s all the fragile, tenuous stuff in between that makes it so worthwhile, so precious. Revelations aside, I wholeheartedly suggest you live large while the living is good. Do yourself a favor and eat as many tomato sandwiches as you possibly can.
p.s. For anyone who is wondering, Queen Freeda’s daughter is alive and well. She is laying a pattern of brood that would do her mother proud. I can hardly wait to watch her legacy unfold!
garlic pig tamaty sandwiches 

1 loaf good, crusty bread, sliced
mayonaise
vine ripe tomatoes, sliced (sun-warmed if possible)
raw garlic, thinly slivered (I prefer Creole Red, it’s a great raw garlic)
fresh basil, chiffonade
Jane’s Crazy Mixed Up Salt (any old salt will do in a pinch)

Slice the bread. Spread on a generous layer of mayo (this is no time to be shy). Add tomato slices, garlic slivers, and basil. Sprinkle with a flourish of Jane’s. Go crazy. Summer comes but one a year.

let’s camp!

Published August 18, 2011 bread, crackers & sandwiches , garden fare , pig slop Leave a Comment
Tags: , , ,

Forgive me. It’s the height of summer (at least up here in Northern Wisconsin) and the garden is finally overflowing. So I feel like I ought to be rattling on about all the ways I have been using my glorious vegetables. But what really has my attention at the moment is biscuits. Mile-high, flaky biscuits. See, I went camping last week with my childhood friend Kathryn. And when Kathryn and camping get together, you can pretty much bet there will be biscuits involved. On this particular trip, it was Kathryn’s dad, Gary, who made the biscuits. But still, there were biscuits. Warm biscuits with butter and honey. Could there be a better way to start a day?

To accommodate his daughter’s dietary needs, Gary went all out and tried his hand at making gluten-free biscuits – how sweet is that? Truth be told, they were a bit heavier than your average biscuit. But they were still biscuits. Warm biscuits with butter and honey. And I can assure you that there is certainly not a better way to kick off a day of paddling than with a belly full of biscuits. I give Gary an A+ for effort. His biscuits reminded me that I have been meaning to try a recipe from a delightful little cafe I visited in Charleston, SC earlier this spring.
I decided a batch of these old-fashioned biscuits would be just the thing to help me ease back into work and the daily routine. I could take them outside with my morning coffee and pretend like I was still camping. Perfect. I knew I had some White Lilly flour lingering in my freezer that my mom had lugged home from Charleston. White Lily is a low-gluten flour made from Southern grown soft winter wheat. It’s the type that makes extra fluffy quick breads and biscuits. You can substitute cake flour or other low-gluten flours to achieve the same results.
While these biscuits may be low-gluten, they aren’t exactly low-fat. But they are so worth it. Especially if you take them outside and pretend like you’re camping. The recipe, which comes from a fun little hand-illustrated cookbook published by the Hominy Grill, calls for all three of the traditional fats – butter, lard, AND shortening. But it’s okay – we’re camping, remember? I don’t keep shortening on hand, so I kept the amount of fat called for the same, but replaced the shortening with butter. I’m sure a true southern cook would detect this omission, but my taste buds were none the wiser for it. And you could no doubt get by with using all butter.
To even further soften my transition back to reality, I made a side of Honey-Thyme Butter to accompany my biscuits. I was inspired by a Honey-Thyme Ice Cream recipe from Amanda Hesser. It’s such a great combination that I wanted to try it in butter as well. I used lemon thyme with the butter and it was perfectly lemony. I’m sure regular thyme would be equally as tasty. For an even more savory treat, try adding a pinch or two of fresh minced garlic into the butter. Maybe it’s just me, but I love the taste of garlic, butter, and honey. A blend that I accidentally discovered years ago while camping – of course!

And since I don’t want to completely short-change you on the vegetable front, I’ll at least tip you off to some of my favorite combinations this summer.

Cukes: Toss coins or matchsticks with a bit of seasoned rice vinegar, toasted sesame oil, salt and red chili flakes

Zucchini: A riff on a 101 cookbooks recipe, caramelize some shallots and garlic, toss in a layer of zucchini coins to brown on both sides and finish if off with a healthy handful of chopped dill and crumbled feta. Left unattended, I can polish off an entire pan of this in a heartbeat. It also makes a great lunch stuffed into a pita.

Green beans: This concoction is adapted from the now defunct Fhima’s in downtown St. Paul. Combine equal parts teriyaki and peanut butter, add in fresh garlic, chopped green onions, and cayenne to taste. Serve over lightly steamed green beans.

Mile High Biscuits
(adapted from the Hominy Grill)

4 cups flour, plus additional for kneading
(use a southern biscuit flower or substitute cake flour)
2 tablespoons baking powder
2 teaspoons sugar
1 teaspoon salt
8 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons lard
1 1/2 cups buttermilk

Sift the dry ingredients together into a large bowl. Cut in the butter and lard with a fork or pastry cutter until you get pea sized lumps of butter. Add in the buttermilk and mix until the ingredients are just moistened. Turn out onto a floured board and knead a few times until a ball forms. Roll or pat the ball into a circle about 1 inch thick. Cut out biscuits with a lightly floured cutter and transfer them to a baking sheet. Bake the biscuits in a 425ºF oven for about 15 minutes, or  until they are golden brown. Makes about 12 2 1/2 inch biscuits.

Honey-Lemon Thyme Butter

6 ounces butter, room temperature
4 tablespoons liquid honey
1 tablespoon fresh chopped lemon thyme
a pinch of fresh minced garlic (optional)

Combine and mix well, chill slightly.

another keeper

Published July 18, 2011 garden fare , pig slop , sauces, salsas, preserves 4 Comments
Tags: , ,

Finally. Something has diverted my attention away from the mighty garlic scape. The tart cherries are lining up for their moment of fame. And they are so excited about it that they are nearly bouncing off their branches. Our cherry trees are conveniently planted along the path we take to get to our cars and shed. Which means I almost always pop a few in my mouth en route. They are so tricky, those cherries. Sun warmed and fruity, but with a tang that makes your mouth stand up and say “Howdy!” Such a tease.

My new favorite smoothie is a simple affair involving kefir, a big handful of tart cherries, a spoonful of finely shredded coconut and a bit of honey to sweeten things up. Now that is a way to start the day.

But wait. Before I get all wrapped up with the cherries, I promised the sugar snap peas that I would put in a word for them. They were a little late to the party this year, but they are now coming on hot and heavy – as if to make up for lost time. We had our first official pea feast on Saturday night. I heated a couple of tablespoons of butter in the wok, added about a pound of stringed peas and seared them for a minute or so before tossing in a small handful of chopped thyme, sea salt and fresh pepper. I gave them one more minute on the heat to let everything meld and turned them out onto a platter. Then I blew the whistle and it was an all out, no holds barred situation at the dinner table. Yum.
Okay, where were we? Cherries, right. My friend Gina makes the most lovely tart cherry jelly. Ruby red and clear as glass. I knew I would love Gina forever after the first time I attended an annual Winter Solstice party that she and her husband Olaf throw each year on December 21. On the darkest and deepest night of winter, their house overflows with warmth, coziness and light. Heartfelt toasts with Aquavit – the Scandinavian “water of life” spirit – flow freely. It is truly a joyous night. But here’s how I really know Gina is a keeper. As each guest gets ready to depart into the cold winter night, she discreetly slips a small jar of tart cherry jelly into their hands. A little gem. A little ray of sweet light.
It’s been a good 8 or 9 years since my first taste of Gina’s cherry jelly, but I still remember it like it was yesterday. It was January. It was cold. Her cherries transformed my english muffin and my day. I was so inspired by it that I went up to my desk and composed a cherry haiku for her. And I have never missed a Winter Solstice party since. Which is a good thing for many reasons, one being that I don’t have the patience for making jelly. It just seems so fussy, with the straining and all. So I typically stick to the more unrefined, rustic jams and preserves.
Cherry season began as usual for me this year, with a batch of Cherry Honey Jam. But then I got a little crazy and made a zingy Cherry and White Pepper Preserve. And I think it is going to be a rising star in the kitchen. Just like Gina, this one’s a keeper. It’s such a simple recipe, but there is so much going on. The heat of the pepper and the intense cherry flavor mixed with just enough sweet to take the edge off. Zowie. I can already taste it on a pork tenderloin, smeared into barbecued ribs, or dotted on goat cheese crostini. Or how about a spoonful of it mixed in with a batch of stir-fried sturdy greens and garlic? And just think what it might do to a savory stuffed squash. I can almost not wait for the first brisk fall night when it seems right to try it. Almost.
I use Pomona’s Pectin for the jam and pretty much follow the recipe that comes with it. The preserve recipe is adapted from Sherri Brooks Vinton’s Put ’em Up! I used raw sugar instead of refined and also added a bit of honey. And I opted for white pepper instead of black. I thought its richer and spicier flavor might be a nice touch – and it was.
Tart Cherry Jam
From Pomona’s Universal Pectin
4 pounds of tart cherries (for 4 cups mashed fruit)
1 cup honey (more or less to taste)
2 teaspoons pectin Pomona’s pectin powder
2 teaspoons calcium water
Makes approximately 4 – 5 cups
Wash and sterilize your jars. Clean the cherries if necessary and stem and pit them. There is no denying that this is a bit of a messy job – the deck is a perfect place for it. Lightly crush the cherries with your fingers or a fork. You want to end up with 4 cups of mashed cherries and juice. Place cherries in a non-reactive pot over low heat, and add the calcium water to the fruit. Measure room temperature honey into a separate bowl and stir in the pectin powder.  Bring the cherries to a boil. Add the pectin-honey mixture and stir vigorously for 1 – 2 minutes to dissolve the pectin and honey. Return mixture to a boil and remove from heat. Ladle into prepared jars, leaving about 1/4 inch of headspace. Attach sterile 2 piece lids and process in a boiling hot water bath process for 10 minutes. Remove jars from canner, label, and store in a cool dark place without rings.
Cherry and White Pepper Preserves
Adapted from Put ’em Up!
3 pounds of tart cherries
1 cup raw sugar
1/4 cup honey
1/4 cup lemon juice
1 teaspoons fresh ground white pepper
Makes approximately 3-4 cups
Wash and sterilize your jars. Put 2 or 3 small saucers in the freezer. Clean the cherries if necessary and stem and pit them. Again, I recommend somewhere outside for this job. Place cherries in a non-reactive pot over low heat, stirring and lightly crushing the fruit a bit. Add in the sugar, honey, and lemon juice and stir until the sugar dissolves. Raise the heat to medium-hot and bring to a boil. Once boiling, adjust the heat to keep the mixture at a nice boil and cook for about 25 minutes. Give it a stir every now and again to make sure nothing is sticking. After 25 minutes  you can start testing for gel set. To test for set remove pan from heat and put a spoonful of fruit on one of your frozen saucers. Return the plate to freezer for about a minute, then take it out and run your finger through the fruit. If it wrinkles or shows the slightest bit of resistance, the preserves are good to go. If the fruit is still runny and loose when you slide your finger through it, return the pan to heat and boil for another couple of minutes. Test again and repeat if necessary. Timing will vary depending on the amount of natural pectin in the fruit. Once gel set is reached, remove from heat, ladle into prepared jars, leaving about 1/4 inch of headspace. Attach sterile 2 piece lids and process in a boiling hot water bath process for 10 minutes. Remove jars from canner, label, and store in a cool dark place without rings.

the spinach chronicles

Published June 24, 2011 cereals, grains & pastas , garden fare , pig slop 2 Comments
Tags: ,
Evidentially, a large portion of this country has been busy breaking all sorts of heat records for June. National Weather Service meteorologist Jim Keeney reported in the New York Times two weeks ago that much of the U.S. is experiencing conditions that we normally don’t have until August. “The heat has been pushed north all the way into Wisconsin, and in the North especially, we are seeing temperatures 15 to 20 degrees above normal,” said Keeney.
Allow me to set the record straight. I can assure you that this “brutal heat wave” has not, in any way, shape or form, found it’s way past the Mason-Bibon line on into Northern Wisconsin. The south shore of Lake Superior has been officially chilly, wet, and grey for pretty much the last three weeks. I think there might have been a day in early June when the thermometer pegged at 66ºF, but it was so short lived, it’s hard to recall. The sun is out today, but we’re still hovering in the upper 50’s.
My peony bush has been poised and ready to bloom since the end of May, but it simply refuses budge in this weather. I go out and look at it every morning. And every morning, it looks the same. I can pretty much hear it. “No! I won’t!” I guess I don’t blame it. I haven’t exactly been frolicking around outside either. My first summer beach read of the season was devoured under the weight of two down comforters.
I can guarantee you that my sweet corn will nowhere near be knee high by the Fourth of July. Even the snap peas, who prefer it nice and cool, look miserable. They are slowly inching their way up the trellis – more out of duty than anything. Don’t even ask about the peppers. They are stuck in a wallow of self-pity. Really, the only thing in the garden that seems genuinely pleased with the current state of affairs is the spinach. But hey, I’ll take it. It’s been a cold, misserable, rainy June. At least I’ve got spinach to show for it.
My routine of late involves slogging out to the garden during breaks in the rain to keep the spinach picked and give the rest of the garden a rousing pep talk. I came in the other day with a big basket of fresh spinach, mixed with a few handfuls of tender little lamb’s quarter leaves, thinking that a steamy pan of lasagna would do nicely to take the chill off. Only I wasn’t sure if I had the energy to construct it. I like lasagna, but to be honest, I find it a bit exhausting. Generally by the time I am done, I have dirtied just about every dish in the house, the kitchen is a mess, and I barely have the strength left to eat. Still, my taste buds were having trouble pushing the notion of fresh spinach lasagna out of my mind. I quickly ran through the process in my head, searching for ways to simplify. No boil noodles, jarred pasta sauce, layer the veggies in raw, skip the Béchamel sauce. I rallied. Let the spring spinach chronicles continue.
In the end though, I caved on several of my proposed simplification techniques. The mushrooms went in raw, but I did end wilting the spinach just slightly. It cost me another pan, but when I looked over a the heaping mound of raw spinach I was concerned it would be too bulky and unruly to layer into the pan. I could have opened a jar of pasta sauce, but I had some canned plum tomatoes too. I knew I couldn’t beat a simple sauce made with olive oil and fresh green garlic. Damn. Another pan. And how could I not use a white sauce with crimini mushrooms and all that fresh spinach? It would be a crime. What’s one more pan? But by golly, I held my ground with the no-boil noodles. One pot and one colander, saved!
The recipe looks long, but it’s really not so bad – especially considering that you end up with enough food to last you through the week, or to invite a few friends over at the last minute – which is what we did. I promise that it’s worth the couple of extra pots and pans (this coming from a woman who does not have running water). And it’s a perfect celebratory, feel-good kind of meal. Tuck it in your back pocket for a cool summer’s night dinner on the porch, or for fall – if you happen to be lucky enough to live somewhere that actually gets warm, or dare I even imagine…HOT.
Fresh Spinach & Mushroom Lasangna

12 ounces no-boil lasanga noodles (or enough to cover 3 layers in your pan)

The Red Sauce:
1/3 cup olive oil
1 – 2 stalks green garlic, chopped (or 4-5 cloves garlic)
3 teaspoons red pepper flakes
1 teaspoon salt
1 28 ounce can diced, fire roasted tomatoes
1 28 ounce can plum tomatoes, roughly chopped

Warm the olive oil in a sauce pan and and add the garlic, red pepper, and salt. Saute briefly until the garlic is just tender, but not brown. Add the tomatoes, juice and all and gently simmer for about 20-30 minutes until the sauce thickens up to your liking. Adjust the seasoning as necessary.

The Veggies:
10 ounces fresh mushrooms, sliced
14 ounces fresh spinach, washed and coarsely chopped (I used 12 ounces of spinach and 2 ounces of lamb’s quarter)

Lightly steam the spinach to wilt it – just for a minute or two. Or if you are feeling bold, you can try layering it in raw (let me know how it goes!)

The Ricotta:
2 eggs, lightly beaten
15 – 16 ounces ricotta cheese
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 bunch fresh chives, chopped

Combine all in a bowl and mix well.

The Cheese:
2 cups grated mozzarella
2 cups grated monterey jack

Combine together in a bowl.

The Béchamel Sauce:
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons flour
1 – 1 1/2 cups milk
Salt, pepper, and nutmeg to taste

Melt the butter in a small heavy saucepan. Slowly stir in the flour, mixing with a fork or whisk. Keep stirring for 1 -2 minutes until the mixture just starts to brown and smells fragrant. Keeping stirring as you add the milk. Cook over medium heat, stirring often until the mixture thickens up, about 5 to 10 minuets. Remove from heat and season with salt, pepper, and a dash of fresh nutmeg.

Layer Up:
Pour a thin layer of the red sauce in the bottom of your baking dish. Follow with a layer of noodles, 1/3 of the ricotta mixture, 1/3 of the spinach, 1/3 of the mushrooms, 1/3 of the white sauce, and 1/3 of the grated cheese. Repeat the process to make 3 layers, ending with the grated cheese.

Bake in a 350ºF oven for about 40 minutes until the cheese is bubbly and slightly browned. Remove from oven and sprinkle with 1/2 cup fresh grated Parmesan cheese. Let stand 10 – 15 minutes before slicing.

enticing bears

Published June 16, 2011 garden fare , pig slop 1 Comment
Tags: ,

I was laying in bed the other morning debating the merits of getting up versus staying hunkered in for a few more minutes when I heard an unmistakable noise outside the front windows. It was the sound of “someone” getting into “something.” Debate over. I got up to investigate with Hoops the cat in tow and discovered a mama bear with two cubs rooting around our little shed. Mom was standing up on hind legs helping herself to the remains of an autumnal display window box that I hadn’t got around to cleaning out yet. The kids were busy sticking their noses into buckets and knocking over flower pots. The whole trio was adorably cute.

Hoops has seen his fair share of bears and there is a reason why he has lived to see 14 years. He retreated immediately and waited uncharacteristically patiently for breakfast to be served. Meanwhile, I fumbled with my camera, forgetting that it was set on full manual mode. Needless to say, most of my shots were as foggy as my morning brain. Photos or not, I decided watching the bears’ shenanigans was a delightful way to wake up and start the day. But when mom stood up tall to knock out a glass block window and junior started swinging from the window box, my husband Mark decided it was time to bust up the fun. He shooed them away. Mom ran off but the kids followed their instincts and went straight for the nearest tree. Eventually they shimmied down to chase after mom.

Coffee in hand and brain fully awake I headed out for a tour of the estate. I had foolishly left some bee equipment in the yard – most of which is now punctured with cute little claw and teeth marks. The bird bath was upturned and one of the pond plants had been uprooted. The goldfish looked nervous. I laughed. Basically, the yard and garden looked like the aftermath of a big ol’ party. A black bear party. It looked like a good time. I wish I could have attended.

All in all, they were fairly well behaved guests. Sure, they chewed on a few dried up old gourds, sampled some flowers, and had a taste of what I can only imagine is divine smelling bee equipment. But the important thing is this: they didn’t touch the spinach. All three rows were upright and perky upon inspection. Which is good. Because I had designs on making my favorite spring spinach pie for dinner. The dill appeared to be in good shape too. Another point for the bears. I’m not saying I want our yard to become the new party shack or anything, but at least they had the sense not to mess with the spinach. I’ll give them that much.

Oh but if those bears only knew the potential that spinach holds. Combine it with some fresh dill, a handful of feta, a few eggs, a splash of milk, and turn it into a pie shell. Now there’s a party. With tender spring spinach and fresh dill, the flavors of this pie truly come alive. It has become one of those dishes that I look forward to making each spring. When the dill is big enough to safely pillage I know its time.

The recipe is adapted from Fresh Market Wisconsin by Terese Allen – a sweet little paperback cookbook that highlights Wisconsin’s best. Market growers and producers from around the state showcase their favorite ways to cook with fresh produce, fruits, berries, honey, maple syrup, wild rice, fish, meat and dairy. There are some real gems in it. And if there were ever a cookbook meant for a bear, I’m pretty sure this would be the one. I know it’s where I’d turn if I ever wanted to entice anybody back for another friendly backyard shindig. But, sorry bears. I promised Hoops I wouldn’t.

Spinach Feta Pie 

1 medium chopped onion, preferably a spring one
1 tablespoon butter or olive oil
10 ounces spring spinach, washed and chopped
6 ounces feta, crumbled
3 eggs
1 cup milk
2 healthy tablespoons fresh dill, chopped
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
1/4 cup fresh grated parmesan cheese
1 9-inch pie shell, unbaked *

Heat butter or oil in a large skillet and saute the onion over medium heat until soft and translucent.  Raise the heat to high and add the spinach. Toss and cook until the spinach has just wilted, about 5 minutes. Turn of heat and let the spinach cool for another 5 minutes. Sprinkle feta over spinach.
In a large bowl, whisk the eggs, milk, dill, salt and pepper together. Fold the spinach and feta into the egg mixture.
Line a 9 inch pie tin with the crust and sprinkle the Parmesan cheese over the bottom of it. Pour the filling into the crust. bake in a 350º oven for about 45-50 minutes until the center is just set. Do not over bake.
* A note on the pie shell: after trying many recipes and methods, I have finally settled on Alice Waters’ pie dough in The Art of Simple Food as my standby. It is easy, straightforward, and has yet to let me down. But a frozen store bought shell would work just as well.

to the dogs (project picnic.3)

Published June 7, 2011 garden fare , project picnic 9 Comments
Tags: , ,
I’ll be honest. Life has been doling out some hefty punches lately. At the risk of dragging you into the ring with me, I’ll just touch on the highlights. Or would those be lowlights?

My heart is aching (and filled with hope) for a dear friend who’s husband was recently diagnosed with leukemia. They are both tremendously strong, but no one deserves to fight such a battle. I have been sending them every last ounce of my energy. In my own, far less serious medical world, there are some complications with my eye surgery. Scar tissue has caused a pocket of fluid to build up which is increasing the pressure in my eye and not allowing the tube implant to do its job. It is also makes me look as though I have a large marble stuck under my eyelid. I have what is technically referred to as a “bleb.” C’mon, really? A bleb? Can’t I get a cooler medical diagnosis than that? But it does sort of roll off the tongue if you say it a few times. And it is a fairly accurate descriptive of how I look and feel. Bleb.
In other news, the sweetest of my 3 hives of bees (led by queen Ruth Wilson) limped through the winter, only to meet their demise this spring. It was a little unexpected and cleaning out her hive boxes left me feeling especially glum. As a bee keeper I harbor a big responsibility for my girls. I wondered over and over what else I could have done to help them. And if loosing thousands of little bees wasn’t enough to break my heart, having to put our dog of 8 years to sleep last week was. We are slowly trying to adapt to the ghost dog that has taken her place. It’s hard.

I guess it should be no surprise then that some of this sadness has followed me into the kitchen. I’ve turned out a few duds lately. Most of them have at least been edible, but one went to the dogs – literally. I knew this experiment had gone bad when my friend Charly, a man who is not afraid to bring road kill into the kitchen, found it hard to choke down. This was an ultimate low for me. Charly loves food. He’ll eat nearly anything. I know, because over the years I have seen him happily indulge in plenty of my mistakes. I’ll be ready to chuck something into the compost and Charly will intervene for another helping. Not this time though. This time Charly suggested we feed the remains to his team of Siberian sled dogs. Ouch.
I had made stuffed eggs for our May picnic outing. The picnic was lovely. The eggs were not. Having just pruned off the tops of my basil seedlings, I enetered into the kitchen with a handful of aromatic goodness and tried to get inspired. I decided to make use of our egg surplus and stuff a dozen of them, hard boiled, with a savory basil-anchovy-egg filling. Evidentially I was a little heavy handed with the anchovies. The dog team is still barking about my culinary prowess.
We took our May picnic at one of my all-time favorite destinations – the Winter Greenhouse in Winter, Wisconsin. If you look at a map of Wisconsin, you will find the town of Winter in the upper west quadrant of the state, smack dab in the middle of nowhere. Which I realize is not unusual for a lot of little Wisconsin towns. What sets Winter apart is that it is home to what is truly one of the most amazing plant nurseries I have ever visited. (My husband Mark can attest that this is no small number). So each spring we make the 2 hour pilgrimage south to walk their grounds and greenhouses and get inspired by color, texture, and patterns. Then I typically load as much of this inspiration as can fit into the back of our little car and head back north to spread the beauty.
This year we found a quiet bench in one of their shade gardens to enjoy our picnic lunch. Despite the egg fiasco, the rest of our fare was quite tasty. Hands down, the star of the picnic was a kale salad. With the exception of preparing the salad, I have to give all remaining credit to my friend Landis. Not only did she provide me with the recipe, she grew the kale to boot. And I’m so glad. Because she has hereby turned me on big-time to spring kale. Until this salad I didn’t even know there was such a thing as spring kale. In my book, kale is a sturdy fall green that tastes even better after a kiss of winter frost. Spring kale, I have discovered, is something altogether different. It is tender and sweet and frilly. And it is perfect as the base for a raw salad. It was so fantastic that we were scrapping the bottom of the container before I even had time to snap a photo.
Kale Salad with Chilies & Pecorino
(Adapted from  Melissa Clark’s In the Kitchen with a Good Appetite)

1 bunch of tender spring kale
1/4 cup coarse homemade bread crumbs (from a slice or two of good bead)
1 small clove garlic
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup grated pecorino or Parmesan
3 tablespoons olive oil
Juice of one lemon (about 1/4 cup)
1/8 – 1/4 teaspoon recd chili pepper flakes
Salt and black pepper to taste

Trim about 2 inches off the kale stems (you can save these for a soup or stock). Slice the kale into 3/4 inch ribbons. You should have about 4 to 5 cups. Place kale in a large bowl.

Using a mortar and pestle or a heavy knife, pound or mince the garlic clove with the salt into a paste. Transfer the garlic paste to a jar with a lid and add the grated cheese, olive oil, lemon juice, chili flakes, a pinch of salt and fresh ground pepper. Give it all a good shake and gently pour it over the kale. It will take a bit of stirring to get all of the leaves well coated. Let stand for about 5 minutes and serve with an additional sprinkling of cheese, bread crumbs, and/or olive oil.

forge on (project picnic.2)

Published May 11, 2011 garden fare , pig slop , project picnic Leave a Comment
Tags: , , ,

I realize that we’re already into the double digits of May, but I’m still stuck on April. For what it’s worth, it has come to my attention that I am currently behind on just about every aspect of my life. So indulge me. All the way back to April. Almost always, I consider April to be the home plate slide into spring. But not this year. This year, April was cruel. This year, April boasted more “snow events” than March. Less overall accumulation, but still, it’s  painful. After 7 months of cold, snowy weather I start to get anxious for some heat and humidity. Yes, I said humidity. I’m sort of sick in the head that way. But that’s a whole different post. What I really want to talk about is our April picnic. Which is tricky, because it didn’t happen. The weather on our proposed date was a gusty, snowy, grey 27º F. I couldn’t take it anymore. I put the picnic basket back in the shed and we went out to dinner.

I reasoned that we could just double up in May. I have high hopes for May. And things are looking up weather-wise, despite the fact that there were flurries on May Day and the day after. Snow flakes aside, last week we had our make-up picnic. Not at all what I was intending, the affair ended up being a late night dinner with the picnic blanket spread out on the floor in front of the wood stove. Did I mention that I am struggling to keep up lately? Mealtime appears to be no exception. Still, it did feel sort of picnicky.
I decided to go Asian. I made my first ever batch of steamed buns, filling them with spicy kimchi. I had never attemped theses delights before, but I was inspired because I thought they would make the perfect hand food for a picnic. All in all it went pretty well, though there were a few stages in the process where I was longing for a Chinese grandmother by my side to gently guide me. But I managed to muddle through with the help of a YouTube video. While the buns steamed I made a simple soy sauce dressing to dip them in.
And then I started in on one of my all-time favorite salads. It also happens to be my potluck offering of choice when I’m pinched for time. Super quick, not fussy, and it doesn’t violate my “no nondescript rice dish” policy for potlucks. Plus, I know it’s a winner because someone generally asks for the recipe. I typically make this salad with shelled edamame, but this time I mixed it up. I’ve been in Minneapolis more than I’d care to be lately. As an incentive I have been rewarding myself with an ongoing tour of my favorite grocery stores. At Bill’s Imported Foods, my latest and most treasured destination, I found a bushel basket of plump fava beans that I couldn’t resist. So I used them in the salad in place of edamame. The result was as tasty as usual – nutty and fresh. And it got me especially revved up for the two rows of favas that are just starting to poke up in our garden.
I kept the rest of the picnic fare pretty simple, rounding the meal out with some zingy wasabi chick peas – one of my latest addictions, and fortune cookies for dessert. My cookie presented me with some particularly timely wisdom. “You could accomplish many things that you give up in despair.” Wow. If this isn’t exactly what I needed to hear. Especially lately when it sometimes feels easier to give up rather than catch up. I taped my fortune to the top edge of my keyboard and glance at it throughout my workday. At the most basic level it keeps me plowing through and forging on. But it also reminds me to live large, dream big, and check my skepticism at the door.
Corn and Bean Asian Salad
Adapted from Isa Chandra Moskowitz and Terry Hope Romero’s Veganomicon

Dressing:
2 tablespoons toasted sesame oil
1 tablespoon rice vinegar
2 teaspoons soy sauce

Salad:
2 cups shelled edamame or fava beans
1 1/2 cup sweet corn (fresh or frozen)
2 tablespoons toasted sesame seeds
salt to taste

Whisk together the dressing ingredients. Bring a large pot of water to boil and cook the edamame for about 5 minutes, If using favas, boil the beans for one minute, drain, let them cool and slip the beans from the tough outer skins. Return the shelled beans to a pot of boiling water and simmer for 2 – 4 minutes until they are bright green and tender. In the last two minutes of cooking (either type of bean) add the corn. Drain the corn and beans in a colander and run under cool water. Transfer to a bowl and toss with the dressing, Add the sesame seeds and salt to taste. Chill salad prior to serving.

Serves 4-6 as a side dish

probationary potatoes

Published April 26, 2011 garden fare , pig slop 2 Comments
Tags: , ,
I’ve been put on couch potato status until further notice. If it were anything other than my eye at stake, I might rise up and revolt. This is not a good time of year to be relegated to the couch. The peas and radishes and sweet onions are begging to be planted. My bees are flying, madly in search of a pollen source. I am dying to take a peek in their hives and rearrange their furniture a bit. But, I promised my eye surgeon I wouldn’t. I’m not saying she didn’t trust me, but she did feel the need to go ahead and deputize my husband Mark to keep me in check. I’m sunk.
I’m doing my best to embrace the situation. I’ve pulled out my flannel sleeping bag and my Hello Kitty pillow to make a giant nest in the sofa. The only problem is that I typically have to jockey with Hoops for a spot. The coffee table is stocked with magazines and cookbooks – all within easy reach. I don’t read long before my eyes prefer to drift shut and rest, but still, it’s a comfort to know that they’re there.
Sunday afternoon though I managed to keep my eyes open for a bit. And I must have been feeling a little vindictive because I realized I was perusing indexes specifically for potato recipes. If I was going to be deemed a couch potato, then I was going to cook potatoes. Try and stop me. But I didn’t want to make just any old potato dish. I wanted fancy potatoes. I was just about to give up and settle for good old-fashioned Bangers and Mash when I came across an entry under potoatos in Yotam Ottolenghi’s book Plenty for Surprise Tatin. This sounded encouraging.
Ottolenghi calls for baby new potatoes, cherry tomatoes, fresh oregano, and hard goat cheese. I didn’t have any of these, but I did happen to know that the last of our summer potato crop was still underground, waiting to be dug. Years ago we discovered (quite by accident) that this is a nice solution to our limited root crop storage problem. We dig half of the hills in the fall, and leave the rest in the ground for a spring treat. The snow cover keeps them toasty enough and just like with carrots, parsnips and rutabagas, the kiss of cold sweetens them up perfectly. As for the rest of the ingredients, I always keep a big jar of dried Sun Gold cherry tomatoes in the pantry that I figured would work just fine. No oregano, but the thyme plant – always an over achiever – is already spreading and sporting new spring leaves. And I had some firm goat milk feta in the fridage that I could slice up. I was in business.
I sent the deputy outside with the pitch fork and the colander and wrangled myself out of the couch. Delving further into the recipe I discovered that Ottolenghi actually has you semi-dry the tomatoes in the oven anyway. Perfect – a little hot water over the Sun Golds and I would be good to go. I think you could use just about any type of tomato – dried, oven roasted, oil packed form a jar, even fresh as long as they have a low moisture content.
The best thing about this tart is the wonderful flavor combinations. Sweet, tangy, rich, and earthy all blended together in a delicate shell. Mark said he felt like Remy from Ratatouille with little firework explosions going off in his mouth as he ate. But the second best part of the recipe is that even though it sounds fancy, and looks fancy, it really is quite simple to make. Don’t let the length of the recipe fool you. Fry some onions, boil some spuds, prep the tomatoes and you’re basically set. The only mildly fussy step is making the caramel glaze for the bottom of the tart and even that takes all of 2 minutes (and 2 minutes well worth it!) An effortless puff pastry sheet for the crown and in the oven it goes. I made sort of a hodgepodge salad to accompany the tart, but I think some simply dressed bitter greens like arugula or endive would be dynamite.
Who knew couch potato probation could be so decadent? Maybe I’ll even miss it, but I doubt it. I am glad to report that the eye surgery itself went very well. Now I’m in a post-surgery waiting game, trying to be patient and let Ma Nature work her magic. Friday is my first visit back for a check. It’s wishful thinking I know, but I’m hoping to get an early release for good behavior.
Couch Potato Tart
(adapted from Yotam Ottolenghi’s Plenty)

1 1/4 pounds small potatoes (skins on)
1 large onion, cut into small wedges
1 heaping cup cherry tomatoes (see note)
2 tablespoons butter or olive oil
1-2 tablespoons fresh thyme leaves
5 ounces firm feta or other hard goat cheese
4 tablespoons sugar, plus 1 additional tablespoon butter
1 puff pastry sheet
salt and pepper
parchment paper

Note: for the tomatoes, you can substitute a large handful of dried cherry tomatoes, reconstituted in hot water, or a small jar of oil-packed, sun dried tomatoes. If using fresh cherry or roma tomatoes, halve (or quarter if they are large) and put them skin side down on a baking sheet. Drizzle a bit of olive oil and salt and pepper over the tops. Bake in a 250º F oven for about 45 minutes until the are dry and gooey.

Bring a pot of salted water to a boil and cook the potatoes until they are just tender. Drain and cool. Trim the very tops and bottoms of the potatoes off and slice them into 3/4″ thick discs.

Slowly saute the onion in the butter or olive oil until the onions are slightly brown and caramelized. Sprinkle with salt and pepper and remove from heat.

Brush the bottom of a 8 1/2 or 9 inch tart or pie pan with a bit of olive oil and cut a parchment paper circle to fit the bottom.

In a small heavy saucepan, cook the sugar and 1 tablespoon of butter over high heat, stirring constantly until it turns into a rich carmel color sauce. This will only take about 2 minutes. Be careful not to take it so far that it hardens and cracks. Pour the caramel into the bottom of the tart pan and carefully spread it around the base of the pan.

Scatter the individual thyme leaves over the caramel. Next arrange the potato discs, cut side down to fill the tart pan (you can leave just a teeny bit of space along the outside rim of the pan to accommodate the puff pastry lid). Press the tomatoes and onions in and around the potato gaps. Sprinkle the whole thing generously with salt and pepper. Then lay the sliced goat cheese on top of the potatoes. Roll the puff pastry sheet so that it is about an inch larger than your pan. Drape it over the top and gently tuck the sides of the crust down into the pan, around the potatos.

Bake the tart in a hot 400º F oven for 25 minutes, then turn down the heat to 350º F for an additional 15 minutes of baking. The pastry should be golden brown and cooked through. Remove it from the oven and put the tart pan on a clean plate or baking sheet. Let it settle for 2 minutes. Then take another plate, put it face down on the tart, pick up the whole shebang and flip it over (the first plate keeps you from having to handle the hot tart pan directly). Lift off the pan and you are ready to serve. Hot or warm.

Serves 4 to 6.

flash and flounce

Published April 12, 2011 garden fare , pig slop Leave a Comment
Tags: , ,

This might just be my favorite time of year. Of course, if you were to ask me again at the start of any of the other seasons, I would probably take it all back and insist that the season in question is actually my favorite. Nevertheless, there is no arguing how hopeful spring feels. And right now, that’s all I need. The generosity of summer and lucidity of fall can wait their turns.

There is no end to the list of springtime events that jazz me up. But my undeniable, hands-down favorite is starting seeds. This is the time of year when trays of little seedlings slowly begin to  take over our living room. The seedlings grow in numbers and size, all of them looking so perfectly green and perky, reaching for the light. Looking at them and watching them grow gives me complete hope. Plus there is the added perk of getting my hands all mucky every time I mix up a new batch of soil and start another tray. It’s a win-win activity. I sit with my morning coffee, brushing my fingers over their sturdy tops, giving them a taste of stronger spring winds to come.

All of this is a result of the continual supply of seed catalogs that the mailbox has offered up throughout the winter. I respectfully thumb through each one, but there are two in particular that I spend and inordinate amount of time with. Neither of which is fancy – no photos, the guts of both printed in black on newsprint. But here’s what I love about them. They are works of art, chock-full of amusing drawings and original art. Both offer subtle political commentary and historical accounts on seeds and gardening. I could read them like novels. And I do. So who are these two mystery seed companies you ask? Fedco Seeds, based in Waterville, Maine and R.H. Shumway’s in Randolph, WI. (I should note that both of their websites pale in comparison to their catalogs. If you’re a fan of garden seeds, do yourself a favor and get on their mailing lists for an actual catalog.)
I sort of went wild ordering flower seeds this year. When it comes to flowers, I generally favor subtle, understated blooms. Dainty plants like Lady’s Mantle, Lavender, Green Gold Bluplurium and Sacred Basil. I’m not sure why, but I more or less wrote off big showy blossoms years ago. So this year as I was going through the catalogs, I was surprised to find myself involuntarily marking some untypical selections. I went all out and ordered things like Dinner Plate Dahlias, State Fair Zinnias, Caribbean Cocktail Nasturtiums, and giant Crackerjack Marigolds. Clearly a shift was happening. I was craving flash and flounce.

As far as vegetables go, I have my tried and true favorites that I grow each year. But I always bring in a few new recruits too. I’m looking forward to the debut of Cubanelle, a thick, waxy, semi-sweet frying pepper. And to a small Russian pickling cucumber (Early Cluster) introduced to the U.S. in the 1850’s. I learned from the Shumway’s catalog that Danish Ballhead is the best old-fasioned kraut cabbage. Several cabbage seedlings are already up and thriving, eager to fuel my kraut and kimchi addictions. And there is one other noteworthy arrival to our garden this year. An under appreciated crop I have never even attempted before. Celery. I chose the open-pollinated variety Ventura from Fedco, because its description reassuringly opens with “Takes the difficulty out of growing celery.” Seems like a good enough place to start.

I don’t know, celery has always seemed like one of those veggies that is just easier to buy. That being said though, I often find there is a lot that can go wrong with store bought celery. It can be just right, but it can also be too stringy, too limp, too bitter, or too sharp. I’ve been on a celery  and celeriac kick lately, so I decided to try my hand at both in the garden. If I had to credit just one celery recipe that inspired me to do so, it would be this knock-out celery salad. I’ve made it all winter and I fall a little more in love with it each time.

Now I acknowledge that celery salad sounds a little dull, but I assure you, it’s not. This is celery at its best. This is celery being flouncy and flamboyant. And it chooses the absolute perfect accessory – shaved Parrmesan. Oh, and the dressing! Don’t even get me started on the dressing! Here’s how good the dressing is. I usually end up with extra. But instead of cutting back on the quantities, I always make the full amount. Because any leftover dressing does wonderful things to whatever it is drizzled over – other veggies, a fried egg, rice, crusty bread – you get the idea.

Flamboyant Celery Salad
Adapted from Ina Garten (I’m not sure which book. I scribbled down notes for this recipe in the library, but failed to note which book I was paging through)

5 cups thinly sliced celery (use the heart and the most tender stalks)
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon salt

the dressing:
1/2 cup olive oil
2 teaspoons lemon zest
1/4 cup lemon juice
3 tablespoons minced shallots
1 teaspoon celery seed
1/2 teaspoon Penzy’s English Prime Rib Rub (or celery salt)
1/2 teaspoon anchovy paste

the accessories:
Shaved Parmesan (2 -4 ounces)
1/4 cup pine nuts, toasted

Put celery in large bowl, pour 1 tablespoon lemon juice and 1/2 teaspoon of salt over the celery. Whisk together the dressing ingredients and add enough dressing to moisten the celery. Let the salad chill for at least an hour to allow the celery to crisp up and absorb the flavors. Transfer to a platter and top with shaved Parmesan (a vegetable peeler works great for this) and toasted pine nuts. Salt and pepper to taste.

Serves 4-6

eat my pie (project picnic.1)

Published April 5, 2011 garden fare , pig slop , project picnic 3 Comments
Tags: ,

One of the best perks of being self-employed is having fairly nice control over my schedule. It doesn’t always work out perfectly, but in general, I can tweak it when necessary. And so last week, when my husband Mark was on holiday from teaching biology to his darling sophomores, I planned accordingly. We decided to go all out and head to the exotic locale of Duluth, MN. Crazy, I know.

I booked a couple of nights at the historic Fitger’s Brewery Hotel overlooking Lake Superior. Unlike most times we travel, we chose our accommodations precisely for the room. We were banking on spending some time there. I requested a lakeside room that had high ceilings, picture windows that actually open, brick walls, lake view – certainly not the Caribbean, but there was hot running water. It would work for me. I packed a novel, a few cooking magazines, the backgammon board, and our well-stocked travel bar that my friend Linda made for us years ago (think vintage sewing suitcase decoupaged with bar-humor and other happy artwork).
We did our fair share of roaming the city, but, as planned, we also spent a considerable amount of time in the historic hotel. Lazy morning coffee morphed into gin and tonics. We sat in front of the picture window, pretending it was spring as we watched for big lakers passing though beyond the frozen bay. Mark kept the daily paper open to the shipping news, announcing which vessel was due when, binoculars at the ready. This year’s shipping season began on March 17 with the departure of the James R. Baker from Superior. On our last morning over a game of backgammon, Mark announced that the largest boat on the Great Lakes (the Paul R. Tregurtha at 1,013 feet, 6 inches long) was due into port around noon. It’s been a long winter. It doesn’t take too much to excite us.
The rest of the week we spent at home. I did do some work, but I also managed to squeeze in some playtime. We had our annual “baby goat happy hour” with our friend Michael up the shore at Sassy Nanny Farmstead Cheese. This is the time of year when Michael is overflowing with baby goats (this year’s season total was 34). And every year I forget how funny they are. They exude mischief and playfulness. It’s contagious. I didn’t even mind when Delilah, a nursing mom, came over and took a large pull on my gin. She’d earned it.
Now don’t laugh, but we also did marathon viewing of Project Runway – a fashion based reality show. We don’t watch many movies or television (we are television free with a computer monitor for DVDs) and I can honestly say that I have never seen a single episode of any reality show. But when my friend Julie handed over a season’s worth of Project Runway a few weeks ago, I was intrigued. She has never steered me wrong in any avenue of life, and she stayed true to form on this one. I was instantly hooked. Entertaining, but also inspirational. I wish I had that amount of passion and confidence for something. Plus, I need a little glam in my life. I’ve already professed my love of Tim Gunn to Julie and asked her for the next season.
And, speaking of projects, we had the first picnic of my 12 month project picnic goal! March was fickle this year. Our yard still has a good foot of snow. Overall it has been grey, cloudy, snowy and wet. I’ve sort of been twiddling my thumbs, waiting for a chance to break out the picnic basket. So when the sun finally decided to pop out last week I thought we’d better give it a go. I sent Mark out to the fire pit to shovel out and get things going. Meanwhile I pulled together a simple lunch. Carrot seed salad, homemade salsa and chips, dill pickles, and a chard pie (leftover from dinner the night before). I packed up the basket for its inaugural voyage, and before I headed out to the fire, I stuck a lovely little lemon cake in the oven. Picnicking at home has its advantages.
Now I know chard pie does not sound all that exciting. But trust me. It is so tasty. And so easy. I won’t even mention how good all those dark leafy greens are for you. That’s like an extra secret bonus. Really, you should eat this pie.
I make this all summer when the garden is overflowing with chard. Sometimes I also mix in spinach, kale, beet greens, etc. It travels well and it is great served hot, cold, or at room temperature. This recipe is an inspiration via Laurel’s Kitchen.

Popeye Pie

2 cups ricotta cheese (I’ve also used cottage cheese)
2 eggs beaten
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 large bunches of chard (about 2 pounds) lightly cooked, stems and all
1/2 cup panko breadcrumbs
paprika (I prefer a hot smoked paprika)
fresh, dried, or roasted tomato slices for topping
To cook the chard, chop it coarsely, keeping the stems separate. Discard any really tough stem ends and finely dice the remaining stems. Start the stem pieces cooking about 5 minutes before you add the leaves. Cook the leaves until they are just tender and wilted, but still bright green. Drain the chard into a colander and squeeze out as much liquid as you can.
Beat together cottage cheese, eggs, lemon juice and salt. Fold in the chard and press into 8×8 baking dish. Sprinkle with panko and paprika. Bake in a 350º F oven until set, about 1/2 hour. Let stand to cool for several minutes before serving. Serves 4-6

instapig

No Instagram images were found.