The photo of collard greens is apropos of nothing, but I didn't want to post yet another photo of canned goods!
I was busy this weekend. I canned two jars of pickled jalapeños, putting two red peppers in each jar for aesthetic effect. I also found enough nearly-ripe pears on the ground to make the year's first batch of pear-citrus marmalade. Nature has her schedule; I looked back on my Manor Menu blog and found that each year I tend to start putting up batches of it around October 24.
Here's how it's done:
PEAR-CITRUS MARMALADE
5 lbs. pears
1 1/4 lemons
1 1/4 oranges
3 3/4 lbs. sugar
Wash the pears, peel them, then cut them in half and remove the cores. Cut the ends off the lemons and oranges and quarter them.
Put the pears, lemons, and oranges through a food grinder (use the coarse blade).
Put ground fruit in a pot and stir in the sugar thoroughly while bringing to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 45 minutes, stirring frequently. Continue cooking until shiny and almost transparent.
Ladle into sterilized jars and process. Makes about eight 8-oz. jelly jars.
This time, for reasons unknown to me, the recipe made 10 jelly jars. That wouldn't be so strange except that the marmalade also set better than it has in the past, which I assume means there was less water in it. How on earth? Oh well. Maybe I just measured badly in the past. All I know is that this batch is delicious and damn near perfect.
Other accomplishments over the weekend:
• I started knitting myself a new scarf (I am a terrible knitter; all I can do is stockinette stitch back and forth, and I'm not even 100 percent sure I'm doing that right, so I make lovely fluffy scarves and that's it)
• The s.o. and I built a raised bed for the perennial garlic and onions
• I organized my office files
• I baked two baguettes from a recipe I hadn't tried before (pretty basic except it includes a little bit of oat bran), and they turned out great
• I finished the first coat of drywall mud on the new closet extension, and barely escaped with my skull intact after knocking a heavy mud trough off the ladder and onto my head
I have big plans for tomorrow, but I don't want to say what they are until after it's all done. Two words: FIELD TRIP!
Monday, October 24, 2005
Saturday, October 22, 2005
Time to make more pickled peppers
Jalapeño peppers are the Energizer Bunny of garden vegetables. I've been neglecting the plants for at least a month now, but they just keep producing!
Ssshhhhhh...nobody tell them it's mid-October.
Ssshhhhhh...nobody tell them it's mid-October.
Friday, October 21, 2005
My devotion to the sale table
Up in front of our local Ingles supermarket, next to the last register, there's a sale table where they clear out merchandise they're no longer going to carry (or that has been discontinued). As such, it's bittersweet. If something's on the sale table, the party's over; I'll have to buy it in Athens or Atlanta--or at least down at the lake where the rich people live--forevermore. But still, I'm a big fan of it. My tastes are different enough from most people's that I tend to like the selection very well indeed.
Examples of things I love that I've found there:
• La Croix sparkling water
• Sun & Earth environmentally friendly dish and laundry detergents
• Ghirardelli dark chocolate chips (this is how I first started buying them)
• Lyle's Golden Syrup (which I am astounded that they carried in the first place, but boy did they ever...I've already bought one can of it and may buy another, because about 20 of them are still sitting there)
• Kashi brand organic Strawberry Fields cereal
• Gold Medal all-purpose flour packaged in the plastic resealable pack (I assume this aggravated them because it didn't fit on the shelf with the normal-shaped flour bags)
• the 96-oz. size of Pompeiian extra-virgin olive oil
• tins of smoked mussels, smoked oysters, and sardines
All very good things indeed, n'est-ce pas?
Sometimes it's not the end. This week I got a large carton of vanilla soymilk for 99 cents because it was approaching its expiration date. The same happened with three-packs of single-serving aseptically packaged "Li'l Milks" not too long ago.
The sale table is good to me. If it weren't for the caprices of the Ingles store manager, I wouldn't be sitting here drinking my coffee with vanilla soy milk this morning. That's something I never thought I'd do, being a dairy devotee, but you know what? It's actually really good.
Examples of things I love that I've found there:
• La Croix sparkling water
• Sun & Earth environmentally friendly dish and laundry detergents
• Ghirardelli dark chocolate chips (this is how I first started buying them)
• Lyle's Golden Syrup (which I am astounded that they carried in the first place, but boy did they ever...I've already bought one can of it and may buy another, because about 20 of them are still sitting there)
• Kashi brand organic Strawberry Fields cereal
• Gold Medal all-purpose flour packaged in the plastic resealable pack (I assume this aggravated them because it didn't fit on the shelf with the normal-shaped flour bags)
• the 96-oz. size of Pompeiian extra-virgin olive oil
• tins of smoked mussels, smoked oysters, and sardines
All very good things indeed, n'est-ce pas?
Sometimes it's not the end. This week I got a large carton of vanilla soymilk for 99 cents because it was approaching its expiration date. The same happened with three-packs of single-serving aseptically packaged "Li'l Milks" not too long ago.
The sale table is good to me. If it weren't for the caprices of the Ingles store manager, I wouldn't be sitting here drinking my coffee with vanilla soy milk this morning. That's something I never thought I'd do, being a dairy devotee, but you know what? It's actually really good.
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Note for those who are following along at home
The pecans from our trees have just been incorporated into a batch of chocolate-chip cookies. That's really the ultimate thing to do with a small amount of pecans, isn't it?
Fresh pink-eye cowpeas
Last week Rozanne mentioned that she'd never encountered cowpeas, let alone pink-eye cowpeas, so I thought I'd share. This is what mine looked like after I shelled them. I think they're especially pretty legumes, not to mention especially tasty ones. Cooking darkened the pale white-green color of the peas, but only barely dimmed the delicate pink-brown color of the markings.
I had about two cups of shelled peas. I simmered them, covered, with water to cover by a half-inch, along with:
• a few shreds of leftover ham
• the end of a tomato, chopped
• a smashed clove of garlic
• salt and pepper
• a handful of green and wax beans from the garden, cut into one-inch pieces (which technically makes this dish into a Southern classic called "Field Peas with Snaps")
When the peas were completely tender, I took the lid off and kept simmering for a few minutes to let the sauce thicken a bit. Easy and delicious.
I had about two cups of shelled peas. I simmered them, covered, with water to cover by a half-inch, along with:
• a few shreds of leftover ham
• the end of a tomato, chopped
• a smashed clove of garlic
• salt and pepper
• a handful of green and wax beans from the garden, cut into one-inch pieces (which technically makes this dish into a Southern classic called "Field Peas with Snaps")
When the peas were completely tender, I took the lid off and kept simmering for a few minutes to let the sauce thicken a bit. Easy and delicious.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Industrious
Because we've had so much success already with our existing six Sunshine Blue dwarf blueberries, we ordered nine more. Last night we finished planting them all. You can see the older, more established plants in the background and the newbies in the front.
This is going to be really great.
This is going to be really great.
'Tis the season
Aren't they gorgeous? I already have two plastic grocery bags full of windfalls. This will mean several batches of pear-citrus marmalade (yes, more marmalade!) in the near future. And some preserves, too.
I'm very pleased with myself
This is a very crappy, dark photo of a really wonderful batch of tangerine marmalade. As I write this, I am eating buttered toast spread with a generous amount of it, and please forgive me if I pat myself on the back, but it is delicious--a really decadent way to begin the day.
I made this marmalade with those Florida Fallglo tangerines I blogged about last week. It signifies a turning point in my canning abilities. The recipe (an old Southern Living Cookbook one) called for 3 1/2 cups of sugar and only 20 minutes of boiling time, and I have finally gained enough experience making marmalades, chutneys, and jams that I knew neither would be sufficient with my particular batch of fruit. And what do you know--my amended version turned out perfect.
Those of you who are on the fence about learning how to can: I beg you to try it. If you are detail-oriented and able to follow directions, you can hardly help but succeed. And you will make yourself so happy!
I made this marmalade with those Florida Fallglo tangerines I blogged about last week. It signifies a turning point in my canning abilities. The recipe (an old Southern Living Cookbook one) called for 3 1/2 cups of sugar and only 20 minutes of boiling time, and I have finally gained enough experience making marmalades, chutneys, and jams that I knew neither would be sufficient with my particular batch of fruit. And what do you know--my amended version turned out perfect.
Those of you who are on the fence about learning how to can: I beg you to try it. If you are detail-oriented and able to follow directions, you can hardly help but succeed. And you will make yourself so happy!
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
Meow
There is a smallish calico cat living under our house!*
We put out a bowl of food for her, because what with Taxi leaving, it can't hurt to have some volunteer rodent control around here. An outdoor cat that is not really ours and more or less minds its own business would be just the ticket.
The animals just keep a-comin' around here, don't they?
----------
* Like many older Southern homes, our house sits on what is called an "open foundation": basically just a series of short brick pillars with (in some areas) decorative brick latticework in between. In our case, the crawl space underneath ranges from about two feet high to tall enough to park our riding lawnmower--which we do, under the bedroom.
We put out a bowl of food for her, because what with Taxi leaving, it can't hurt to have some volunteer rodent control around here. An outdoor cat that is not really ours and more or less minds its own business would be just the ticket.
The animals just keep a-comin' around here, don't they?
----------
* Like many older Southern homes, our house sits on what is called an "open foundation": basically just a series of short brick pillars with (in some areas) decorative brick latticework in between. In our case, the crawl space underneath ranges from about two feet high to tall enough to park our riding lawnmower--which we do, under the bedroom.
Hmm
I think something is amiss with my Weather Pixie. It has read 86 degrees F for days on end. It is most definitely not 86 degrees.
Saturday, October 15, 2005
It's happening
Last night I went to the Caledonia, a club in Athens, to see The Drams. It was a very enjoyable show--not as stunning as their set at Twangfest this June, but very worthwhile nonetheless.
On my way to my car (and yes, if you attempt to park in Athens on a weekend night, you will end up walking quite a way to your car), I was suddenly aware that I was freezing cold. I had a sweater waiting for me in the car, but still I felt chilly the whole way home and had to run the heat. The temperature was in the mid-50s. Until now it has not strayed so low.
So the weather has changed at last. It could be argued that October is the nicest month of the year in Georgia. Daytime temps in the 70s, nighttime in the 50s, ample sunshine mixed with misty moistness. Only March and April (tender, green, gorgeous beyond reason, scented with flowers) can compete.
Today: Bright sun and crisp air. Tonight's forecast: Low of 52.
On my way to my car (and yes, if you attempt to park in Athens on a weekend night, you will end up walking quite a way to your car), I was suddenly aware that I was freezing cold. I had a sweater waiting for me in the car, but still I felt chilly the whole way home and had to run the heat. The temperature was in the mid-50s. Until now it has not strayed so low.
So the weather has changed at last. It could be argued that October is the nicest month of the year in Georgia. Daytime temps in the 70s, nighttime in the 50s, ample sunshine mixed with misty moistness. Only March and April (tender, green, gorgeous beyond reason, scented with flowers) can compete.
Today: Bright sun and crisp air. Tonight's forecast: Low of 52.
Friday, October 14, 2005
Seafood heaven
Ten gorgeous, oceany-smelling fresh clams, large enough to properly be called quahogs, rode home from Atlanta with me on Wednesday evening. They were nestled in a double plastic bag in a soft-sided coolerful of ice, but the plastic was left open and hanging out of the top of the cooler so they could breathe.
When I got home, I made up a potful of cold brine--1/3 cup of kosher salt to 1 gallon of water--and placed the clams in it. Then I sprinkled 1/4 c. of fine cornmeal on top so the clams would eat it, thereby chasing the grit and impurities out of their systems. The clams remained like this overnight in the refrigerator.
Yesterday afternoon I flushed the clams well with fresh water, scrubbed them, dried them, and made this, which was truly excellent:
BACON STUFFED CLAMS
rock salt or coarse kosher salt
10 large hard-shelled clams, prepared as above
3 ping-pong-ball-sized mushrooms (I used puffballs, but button mushrooms would work), cleaned and chopped small
2 slices crispy cooked bacon, chopped small
1 tsp. fresh minced parsley
fresh bread crumbs as needed
freshly ground black pepper to taste
10 dots of butter
Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.
Shake out a layer of salt in a jellyroll pan and nest the clams in it. This is to keep them stable so they don't spill their liquor. Bake them just until they open. Discard any clams that refuse to open (or that have been hanging half-open the whole time you've been preparing them).
Keep the oven turned on.
Open the clams all the way by cutting the muscles at the sides. Pour all the liquor into a small bowl and reserve. Cut out the meat of the clams, chop it, and put it into a large bowl. Reserve 10 half clamshells, nesting them once again in the salt-filled jellyroll pan.
To the large bowl containing the chopped clam meat, add the mushrooms, bacon, and parsley. Throw in a couple handfuls of bread crumbs, then add just enough clam liquor to make a mixture that will hold its shape. You can keep tweaking the amount of bread crumbs and clam liquor to get the consistency you like.
Taste for salt. The mixture should probably have retained some of its brininess. If not, adjust. Mound the mixture into the half clamshells, grind a little pepper on each, then top each filled clamshell with additional breadcrumbs and a dot of butter.
Bake until golden brown.
Note: We haven't tried this yet, but our experience in coastal seafood restaurants suggests that a layer of grated cheese between the clam mixture and the breadcrumb topping would not be a bad thing. It doesn't need it, but then again, why not go for the gusto?
When I got home, I made up a potful of cold brine--1/3 cup of kosher salt to 1 gallon of water--and placed the clams in it. Then I sprinkled 1/4 c. of fine cornmeal on top so the clams would eat it, thereby chasing the grit and impurities out of their systems. The clams remained like this overnight in the refrigerator.
Yesterday afternoon I flushed the clams well with fresh water, scrubbed them, dried them, and made this, which was truly excellent:
BACON STUFFED CLAMS
rock salt or coarse kosher salt
10 large hard-shelled clams, prepared as above
3 ping-pong-ball-sized mushrooms (I used puffballs, but button mushrooms would work), cleaned and chopped small
2 slices crispy cooked bacon, chopped small
1 tsp. fresh minced parsley
fresh bread crumbs as needed
freshly ground black pepper to taste
10 dots of butter
Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.
Shake out a layer of salt in a jellyroll pan and nest the clams in it. This is to keep them stable so they don't spill their liquor. Bake them just until they open. Discard any clams that refuse to open (or that have been hanging half-open the whole time you've been preparing them).
Keep the oven turned on.
Open the clams all the way by cutting the muscles at the sides. Pour all the liquor into a small bowl and reserve. Cut out the meat of the clams, chop it, and put it into a large bowl. Reserve 10 half clamshells, nesting them once again in the salt-filled jellyroll pan.
To the large bowl containing the chopped clam meat, add the mushrooms, bacon, and parsley. Throw in a couple handfuls of bread crumbs, then add just enough clam liquor to make a mixture that will hold its shape. You can keep tweaking the amount of bread crumbs and clam liquor to get the consistency you like.
Taste for salt. The mixture should probably have retained some of its brininess. If not, adjust. Mound the mixture into the half clamshells, grind a little pepper on each, then top each filled clamshell with additional breadcrumbs and a dot of butter.
Bake until golden brown.
Note: We haven't tried this yet, but our experience in coastal seafood restaurants suggests that a layer of grated cheese between the clam mixture and the breadcrumb topping would not be a bad thing. It doesn't need it, but then again, why not go for the gusto?
Thursday, October 13, 2005
For anyone who hasn't seen this demonstration 1,000 times already
On the right is a commercial egg--a pretty nice one by those standards, vegetarian-fed, higher than average in Omega-3 fatty acids.
On the left is an egg laid by one of my stepsister and stepbrother-in-law's happy, free-ranging backyard chickens.
On the left is an egg laid by one of my stepsister and stepbrother-in-law's happy, free-ranging backyard chickens.
The country mouse goes to Atlanta
When did I turn into a country mouse? Nowadays I'm not in a city for more than five minutes before I start grumbling about the traffic. I guess that's why I used to be such a fan of public transportation when I lived in St. Paul! (I suppose I still am a big fan of public transportation. I know I believe in it; it's just that I have zero opportunity to use it.)
Yesterday afternoon found me waiting at a series of interminable red lights in order to visit the Midtown Whole Foods, one of several Atlanta retailers that carries Sweet Grass Dairy cheeses. As some of you might recall, I mail-ordered their Lucille, Georgia Gouda, and Green Hill during August's Eat Local Challenge. They were excellent; I wanted more. I was especially interested in their fresh chevre, which hadn't been available via mail order because of the hot weather.
Well, the chevre is good. Really good. But the Thomasville Tomme, which I have seen referred to as the best cheese made in Georgia, is definitely the one to seek out. After my trip to Whole Foods, I met up with my stepsister, her husband, and their two daughters, and we devoured some cheese together. We all agreed the tomme was All That.
Stepsister and co. introduced me to the Dekalb Farmer's Market, which isn't a farmer's market at all, but is rather a large, cavernous warehouse-style grocery store. You can find a lot of fantastic bulk foods there--especially a lot of organic nuts and grains--but it's not the kind of place where you spot, say, mahlab or black salt or fresh fenugreek. It's not that fancy. But it does have a spectacularly large selection of produce, meats, and seafood. And here's the real kicker: EVERYTHING IS LABELED WITH THE LOCATION WHERE IT WAS SOURCED.
It's like a happy dream for a local foods aficionado.
After some wheeling around with my cart, I came away with (among other things):
• Florida Fallglo tangerines
• Florida white grapefruits
• Georgia pink-eye cowpeas
• Georgia banana peppers
• Georgia green beans
• Georgia Red Rome apples
• Virginia hard-shell clams
• Alabama watercress
At the end of the day, I also returned home with eight pullet eggs from stepsister and co.'s young flock of Wyandotte chickens. We sat around and talked about chickens, bees (stepbrother-in-law is a skilled amateur beekeeper), and fruit and vegetables until it was time for me to head home.
Having experienced all this bounty, I think I might have to drive in to Atlanta every couple weeks or so to get provisions. There were all kinds of beautiful Florida fish and shrimp I didn't buy, simply because we couldn't have consumed them all while they were still fresh.
P.S. I drove home in the wake of a semi truck, not changing lanes except when it did, just to make sure no errant deer ended up in my path.
Yesterday afternoon found me waiting at a series of interminable red lights in order to visit the Midtown Whole Foods, one of several Atlanta retailers that carries Sweet Grass Dairy cheeses. As some of you might recall, I mail-ordered their Lucille, Georgia Gouda, and Green Hill during August's Eat Local Challenge. They were excellent; I wanted more. I was especially interested in their fresh chevre, which hadn't been available via mail order because of the hot weather.
Well, the chevre is good. Really good. But the Thomasville Tomme, which I have seen referred to as the best cheese made in Georgia, is definitely the one to seek out. After my trip to Whole Foods, I met up with my stepsister, her husband, and their two daughters, and we devoured some cheese together. We all agreed the tomme was All That.
Stepsister and co. introduced me to the Dekalb Farmer's Market, which isn't a farmer's market at all, but is rather a large, cavernous warehouse-style grocery store. You can find a lot of fantastic bulk foods there--especially a lot of organic nuts and grains--but it's not the kind of place where you spot, say, mahlab or black salt or fresh fenugreek. It's not that fancy. But it does have a spectacularly large selection of produce, meats, and seafood. And here's the real kicker: EVERYTHING IS LABELED WITH THE LOCATION WHERE IT WAS SOURCED.
It's like a happy dream for a local foods aficionado.
After some wheeling around with my cart, I came away with (among other things):
• Florida Fallglo tangerines
• Florida white grapefruits
• Georgia pink-eye cowpeas
• Georgia banana peppers
• Georgia green beans
• Georgia Red Rome apples
• Virginia hard-shell clams
• Alabama watercress
At the end of the day, I also returned home with eight pullet eggs from stepsister and co.'s young flock of Wyandotte chickens. We sat around and talked about chickens, bees (stepbrother-in-law is a skilled amateur beekeeper), and fruit and vegetables until it was time for me to head home.
Having experienced all this bounty, I think I might have to drive in to Atlanta every couple weeks or so to get provisions. There were all kinds of beautiful Florida fish and shrimp I didn't buy, simply because we couldn't have consumed them all while they were still fresh.
P.S. I drove home in the wake of a semi truck, not changing lanes except when it did, just to make sure no errant deer ended up in my path.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Disorienting, yet cool
A hundred or so years ago, when our house was built, people didn't have a lot of stuff. We, however, have quite a lot of stuff. As a result, we are forever questing for More Closet Space.
Specifically, we need a place to keep all the tools and DIY doodads that have gotten us to where we are today. So today the s.o. did something really clever: He expanded the under-stairs closet so that it is a little more than two feet deeper (and quite a lot taller) than it was before.
Isn't it strange when the layout of your house changes? Walls seem immutable, but they aren't at all. One afternoon's carpentry (and possibly weeks of subsequent foot-dragging on my part, because I am in charge of drywalling and finishing work) and we suddenly experience a new traffic pattern, a new way that light bounces around, and most notably a new place to store an unwieldy table saw.
Actually, the table saw will sit in exactly the same place it has sat for months. The difference is, now no one will be able to se it.
One additional benefit of the new construction is that it hides an old amateurish drywall seam of mine--done before I really started to figure things out--that I wasn't particularly proud of. It's like a clean slate. I can begin anew.
I like it.
Specifically, we need a place to keep all the tools and DIY doodads that have gotten us to where we are today. So today the s.o. did something really clever: He expanded the under-stairs closet so that it is a little more than two feet deeper (and quite a lot taller) than it was before.
Isn't it strange when the layout of your house changes? Walls seem immutable, but they aren't at all. One afternoon's carpentry (and possibly weeks of subsequent foot-dragging on my part, because I am in charge of drywalling and finishing work) and we suddenly experience a new traffic pattern, a new way that light bounces around, and most notably a new place to store an unwieldy table saw.
Actually, the table saw will sit in exactly the same place it has sat for months. The difference is, now no one will be able to se it.
One additional benefit of the new construction is that it hides an old amateurish drywall seam of mine--done before I really started to figure things out--that I wasn't particularly proud of. It's like a clean slate. I can begin anew.
I like it.
Monday, October 10, 2005
A morning's foraging
I found the contents of this bowl while I was walking the dogs this morning. Not bad, I say.
Now, I know four green beans isn't a lot, but (a) the deer ate all the other bean plants from my late-July planting, and (b) there are a few more coming. I'm surprised I have any at all. So I chalk it up as a victory.
The pecans are aggravating. This year our delinquent pecan trees finally set a lot of fruit, only to have most of it rot in the pod. These few are all the healthy nuts I could find. They are not a hundredth of what the trees produced. Is it weather? Nutrition (we did fertilize, for what it's worth)? Or is it that, as I read somewhere, some older pecan tree cultivars stop producing reliably when they get to a certain age? Well, at least we have a few gorgeous pecans.
At a time when so many of the vegetables in the garden are producing like crazy--mustard greens, turnips, chard, radishes, lettuce, cilantro, peppers, carrots, and even a last couple eggplants--it seems odd to be overjoyed at these measly finds. But I am extra-pleased with them because I didn't expect them.
Now, I know four green beans isn't a lot, but (a) the deer ate all the other bean plants from my late-July planting, and (b) there are a few more coming. I'm surprised I have any at all. So I chalk it up as a victory.
The pecans are aggravating. This year our delinquent pecan trees finally set a lot of fruit, only to have most of it rot in the pod. These few are all the healthy nuts I could find. They are not a hundredth of what the trees produced. Is it weather? Nutrition (we did fertilize, for what it's worth)? Or is it that, as I read somewhere, some older pecan tree cultivars stop producing reliably when they get to a certain age? Well, at least we have a few gorgeous pecans.
At a time when so many of the vegetables in the garden are producing like crazy--mustard greens, turnips, chard, radishes, lettuce, cilantro, peppers, carrots, and even a last couple eggplants--it seems odd to be overjoyed at these measly finds. But I am extra-pleased with them because I didn't expect them.
Saturday, October 08, 2005
Le menu
Here's a simple autumn soup that makes me very happy. You'll notice there's no basil in it. Nothing unusual about that--there's not supposed to be any basil in it.
I specifically chose a dinner recipe with no basil in it because I spent half the day processing all the basil in the garden into frozen proto-pesto (i.e., just food-processed basil and lots of olive oil to keep it preserved; other ingredients to be added at time of defrosting). As a result, right now the merest whiff of basil makes me positively ill. It won't take long for these effects to wear off, luckily. But you can be sure that the last soup on my mind tonight was Pistou.
So instead I went for a version of potato-leek soup that I specially designed to use up some particularly nice leftovers from a roasted chicken.
I served the soup with Bakerina's Rice Bread, which is every bit as great as you'd expect it to be, coming from Bakerina. Tender and crumb-y inside, with a crackly, crunchy crust.
POTATO-LEEK SOUP WITH CHICKEN
3 to 4 c. peeled, chopped floury potatoes
3 c. chopped leeks, white and pale-green parts only (make sure to rinse them well, inside and out)
chicken broth to cover by 2 inches
1 c. cooked, shredded chicken
a splash of milk and/or cream
sea salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
Combine the potatoes, leeks, and broth in a large pot, bring to a boil, and keep at a high simmer until the vegetables are falling-apart tender. Puree in batches in a food processor. Return to the pot.
Add the chicken, milk, and seasonings. Heat through--do not boil.
I specifically chose a dinner recipe with no basil in it because I spent half the day processing all the basil in the garden into frozen proto-pesto (i.e., just food-processed basil and lots of olive oil to keep it preserved; other ingredients to be added at time of defrosting). As a result, right now the merest whiff of basil makes me positively ill. It won't take long for these effects to wear off, luckily. But you can be sure that the last soup on my mind tonight was Pistou.
So instead I went for a version of potato-leek soup that I specially designed to use up some particularly nice leftovers from a roasted chicken.
I served the soup with Bakerina's Rice Bread, which is every bit as great as you'd expect it to be, coming from Bakerina. Tender and crumb-y inside, with a crackly, crunchy crust.
POTATO-LEEK SOUP WITH CHICKEN
3 to 4 c. peeled, chopped floury potatoes
3 c. chopped leeks, white and pale-green parts only (make sure to rinse them well, inside and out)
chicken broth to cover by 2 inches
1 c. cooked, shredded chicken
a splash of milk and/or cream
sea salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
Combine the potatoes, leeks, and broth in a large pot, bring to a boil, and keep at a high simmer until the vegetables are falling-apart tender. Puree in batches in a food processor. Return to the pot.
Add the chicken, milk, and seasonings. Heat through--do not boil.
Look what the rain brought
I knew as soon as we got some rain, we'd start to see tiny puffballs in the yard. They say the best possible mushroom weather is a dry September and a wet October. So far, perfect. Aren't they cute?
Friday, October 07, 2005
Yes, since you ask, it was love at first sight
The s.o. is simultaneously watching the playoffs on TV and reading a baseball web site. I am engrossed in a culinary article online and am only dimly aware that he is typing away at something. Then I realize he is asking me a question.
"Wha?" I ask.
He repeats himself. "Is 'popinjay' all one word?"
"Yes," I respond, and return to my reading.
A moment later, he gets my attention again. "And what about 'drink-soaked'? Does that need a hyphen?"
Sometimes I think I ought to pay more attention to sports.
"Wha?" I ask.
He repeats himself. "Is 'popinjay' all one word?"
"Yes," I respond, and return to my reading.
A moment later, he gets my attention again. "And what about 'drink-soaked'? Does that need a hyphen?"
Sometimes I think I ought to pay more attention to sports.
The yogurt wars: Vol. 2
It is a good morning. After a shaky first week in obedience class*, in which Gracie half-strangled herself on the lead, towed me around in circles, scrabbled her feet like Fred Flintstone for an hour straight, and peed in the middle of the floor, last night she made me so proud you'd think she had won the Nobel Peace Prize.
We spent all day wearing her out so she'd be mellow. She fetched, wrestled, paced in circles, etc. Then I gave her a Happy Traveler (which doesn't seem to have any effect on her, FWIW) and took her to town a half-hour early so she could greet all the other dogs as they arrived. I got myself a coffee with cinnamon and cultivated an air of quiet benevolence. But what really helped was that the trainer had thoughtfully brought an Ace bandage and did a "hug wrap" on her. It's a tactic along the lines of swaddling clothes for a baby or a squeeze chute for a cow; it does something comforting on a deep neurological level. Apparently therapists do something similar with autistic children. At any rate, the difference in behavior was startling. The wrap seemed to drastically reduce Gracie's not-inconsiderable anxiety, and she was so well-behaved that the trainer used us as an example!
Gracie and I stopped at the liquor store on the way home so I could get a bottle of Calvados. It's apple season. I need it for cooking. "Sure you do," you say, winking ironically, but at this very moment I have a panful of butter-sauteed apple slices soaking in a quarter-cup of that Calvados. Apple clafoutis for brunch!
But before I forget, I need to deal with the business at hand: Four more yogurt taste tests, submitted for your consideration.
Stonyfield Farm
fat-free strawberry
(not pictured)
Very good yogurt as always, but really, really awful fruit. The strawberries are greyish-pink, bland, and canned-tasting. Bad aftertaste. I have a hard time imagining how this made it through product testing. Overall a regrettable purchase.
Cairo didn’t even like it. Not much, anyway.
Redwood Hill Farm Goat Milk Yogurt
vanilla flavor
This is good, but not nearly as good as the Redwood Hill blueberry flavor. It is sweetened with maple syrup rather than honey, so it has a pronounced maple-caramel flavor rather than a pure vanilla taste. That seems like an odd choice to me--why not just call it maple? Also, I noticed a greasy film on the spoon, similar to (although not as pronounced as) the fatty texture of the Brown Cow Cream Top maple flavor. Maybe maple syrup has some kind of de-emulsifying effect on yogurt.
I am now a confirmed fan of goat milk yogurt. But whereas I’d buy the blueberry flavor again in a heartbeat, I don’t think I’d seek this flavor out.
Cairo really seems to like maple, and he loves goat milk, too, so obviously this yogurt was a dream come true for him.
Stonyfield Farm
whole milk vanilla truffle
I tried this on Maggie’s recommendation. I wouldn’t have even been able to find it on the shelf if it weren’t for the picture on the cup, which depicts chunks of chocolate and a vanilla flower. Since when do you call a chocolate-flavored yogurt “vanilla truffle”?
Well. I must say this is a very impressive yogurt. It has a cream top with a minimum of greasiness and a maximum of creaminess. There is almost too much gooey chocolate on the bottom for the amount of yogurt in the cup (as if that were possible). It is glorious, glorious stuff, and I feel very guilty having eaten it for breakfast. It occurs to me that it would go well with sliced banana. I will definitely buy it again.
Only two negatives:
(1) It looked kind of gross when I opened it, due to watery “migration” of some of the chocolate from the bottom, and
(2) I couldn’t share it with Cairo because it is chocolate.
Wallaby Creamy Australian Style Organic
lowfat lemon
Apparently “Australian Style” means “soupy and mild.” I like it a lot for its fresh lemony flavor. In fact, the more I ate of it, the more I liked it. There are little teeny pieces of lemon zest in it, which are comforting in a natural-foods way but a little odd texture-wise, almost grainy.
Cairo loooooooved this. Three paws up.
----------
* Some of you may note that it has actually been several weeks since classes began. The first week we didn't bring our dogs, and then the third week the trainer had to be in New York for a dog show. So this was actually the de facto second class for the dogs.
We spent all day wearing her out so she'd be mellow. She fetched, wrestled, paced in circles, etc. Then I gave her a Happy Traveler (which doesn't seem to have any effect on her, FWIW) and took her to town a half-hour early so she could greet all the other dogs as they arrived. I got myself a coffee with cinnamon and cultivated an air of quiet benevolence. But what really helped was that the trainer had thoughtfully brought an Ace bandage and did a "hug wrap" on her. It's a tactic along the lines of swaddling clothes for a baby or a squeeze chute for a cow; it does something comforting on a deep neurological level. Apparently therapists do something similar with autistic children. At any rate, the difference in behavior was startling. The wrap seemed to drastically reduce Gracie's not-inconsiderable anxiety, and she was so well-behaved that the trainer used us as an example!
Gracie and I stopped at the liquor store on the way home so I could get a bottle of Calvados. It's apple season. I need it for cooking. "Sure you do," you say, winking ironically, but at this very moment I have a panful of butter-sauteed apple slices soaking in a quarter-cup of that Calvados. Apple clafoutis for brunch!
But before I forget, I need to deal with the business at hand: Four more yogurt taste tests, submitted for your consideration.
Stonyfield Farm
fat-free strawberry
(not pictured)
Very good yogurt as always, but really, really awful fruit. The strawberries are greyish-pink, bland, and canned-tasting. Bad aftertaste. I have a hard time imagining how this made it through product testing. Overall a regrettable purchase.
Cairo didn’t even like it. Not much, anyway.
Redwood Hill Farm Goat Milk Yogurt
vanilla flavor
This is good, but not nearly as good as the Redwood Hill blueberry flavor. It is sweetened with maple syrup rather than honey, so it has a pronounced maple-caramel flavor rather than a pure vanilla taste. That seems like an odd choice to me--why not just call it maple? Also, I noticed a greasy film on the spoon, similar to (although not as pronounced as) the fatty texture of the Brown Cow Cream Top maple flavor. Maybe maple syrup has some kind of de-emulsifying effect on yogurt.
I am now a confirmed fan of goat milk yogurt. But whereas I’d buy the blueberry flavor again in a heartbeat, I don’t think I’d seek this flavor out.
Cairo really seems to like maple, and he loves goat milk, too, so obviously this yogurt was a dream come true for him.
Stonyfield Farm
whole milk vanilla truffle
I tried this on Maggie’s recommendation. I wouldn’t have even been able to find it on the shelf if it weren’t for the picture on the cup, which depicts chunks of chocolate and a vanilla flower. Since when do you call a chocolate-flavored yogurt “vanilla truffle”?
Well. I must say this is a very impressive yogurt. It has a cream top with a minimum of greasiness and a maximum of creaminess. There is almost too much gooey chocolate on the bottom for the amount of yogurt in the cup (as if that were possible). It is glorious, glorious stuff, and I feel very guilty having eaten it for breakfast. It occurs to me that it would go well with sliced banana. I will definitely buy it again.
Only two negatives:
(1) It looked kind of gross when I opened it, due to watery “migration” of some of the chocolate from the bottom, and
(2) I couldn’t share it with Cairo because it is chocolate.
Wallaby Creamy Australian Style Organic
lowfat lemon
Apparently “Australian Style” means “soupy and mild.” I like it a lot for its fresh lemony flavor. In fact, the more I ate of it, the more I liked it. There are little teeny pieces of lemon zest in it, which are comforting in a natural-foods way but a little odd texture-wise, almost grainy.
Cairo loooooooved this. Three paws up.
----------
* Some of you may note that it has actually been several weeks since classes began. The first week we didn't bring our dogs, and then the third week the trainer had to be in New York for a dog show. So this was actually the de facto second class for the dogs.
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