I was recently reminded of small batch jam making, which simply means that you make a few jars at a time and repeat the process whenever you have an hour and a few cups of fruit to spare.
Making jam is a delectable experience, and afterward jars of luminous preserved strawberries appear in the pantry. Overbearing to-do lists, if I’m not careful, can seem more important than a basic endeavor like preserving food. Used to be our survival depended on it. Anyway. . . this small batch approach was an efficient and satisfying alternative to rolling up my sleeves and spending hours canning a couple of dozen jars.
I used the simplest whole foods, just strawberries and honey, a bit of lemon juice. The jars of crimson deliciousness are something to behold, a beautiful sight in the cupboard and even better in the mouth - the essence of strawberry on a piece of toast.
I had about 4 cups of strawberries that needed to be eaten immediately so I decided to make a small batch and not fuss about it. A Saturday morning, I said to myself ‘just do it’, and start to finish it took about an hour, truly.
When it was my night to cook dinner for my extended family at the beach, I decided to fix gumbo so that I could use as many local ingredients as possible, all in one big pot. Gumbo is a traditional dish in the South, but we can make a Pacific Northwest version using our local bounty almost as easily.
At the heart of a gumbo is the roux. This is the most time-consuming and essential step to the smoky silkiness that sets gumbo apart from other seafood stews. Some people are able to multi-task while making the roux but I burnt mine once and had to start over so now I try to enlist helpers to chop vegetables and clean shrimp while I stir. I used 1/2 cup olive oil and 1/2 cup flour, though bacon fat or lard are more traditional. As you stir the fat and flour over low to medium heat, it will slowly and almost imperceptibly change color and eventually (after 30-45 minutes) turn a dark chocolatey brown. Taking the time to cook the roux without burning it is a challenge for impatient cooks so don’t try this dish if you are in a big hurry.
Okra is an ingredient that may be hard to find in our neck of the woods. If you see some fresh, snatch it up, otherwise, frozen will do in a pinch. It has a bad rap even among southerners because of its reputation of being slimy . In this case, it serves as a thickening agent and the texture isn’t offensive at all. I love the flavor it adds to gumbo, although some family members were spotted slipping their okra to those who appreciate its unique ability to glide across the plate.
The “holy trinity” of gumbo cooking is onions, peppers and celery. I used onions, red peppers and a jalapeno instead because that is what I had on hand. Tomatoes are also necessary making this a good summertime dish.
Seafood, although an important component, can be whatever is fresh and local. Shrimp and crab are common but a mixture of fish, chicken and sausage is just as likely to be used. Go to your local seafood market and use whatever just came in off the boat.
The following recipe will feed 12-16 people. It can be adapted easily to incorporate local ingredients making it a good choice for feeding a large group regardless of which coast you happen to be on. The base can be made a day ahead, adding the fish just before you eat. Read the rest of this entry »
A while back Poppy and I had this idea that we would host a ‘food experience’ for munchkins.
Foods that dip was the central theme and we made a mess, a good mess, as is required in the creation of any masterpiece. Their dips and veggie creations were inventive, artful and delicious. They dipped strawberries in chocolate and even saved a few to take home; they made and loved both a thousand island-type dip and a peanut buttery dip based on an Indonesian peanut sauce; they decorated their plates with inspired versions of veggie people; we had a picture story about a strawberry which involved a tiny mouse and a bear, both enamored with the same strawberry (The Little Mouse, the Red Ripe Strawberry and the Big Hungry Bear); we mixed extra peanut sauce with pasta for take-home lunches; and finally there was drumming and a dance around the backyard.
Flowers, pollination, nectar, devotion to a queen, their utter busyness and single mindedness, the efficiency of their operation; a piece of warm toast slathered with melting butter and sweet honey. Sweet honey.We love most things about honeybees, especially the honey part. We write poems about them.They conveniently appear in our language when we need an idiomatic phrase like the bees knees, busy as a bee, a bee in your bonnet, sting like a bee, the birds and the bees . . .
On the other hand, we’re obsessed with their ability to sting, and our caring about their survival has been tempered with this edginess we may have about their presence among us. Perhaps we’ve been slow to acknowledge their duress. Growing food is impossible or impossibly complicated without bees, so understanding their stress, demonstrated in the widespread collapse of colonies, is important. This informative and short video will get you to thinking about it all and perhaps answer a question or two.
(On Mondays we’re revisiting posts from the past. This is a curtain call for Call of the Honeybees.)
Thanks to Cooking Up A Story for this and other excellent videos relating to sustainability.
The Great Sunflower Project provides an opportunity to participate in gathering information about bees.You’re invited to help out.
The season for peas is right this minute. Whistling Train Farm had piles at the market last weekend and I’ve been daydreaming about possibilities ever since.
I’ll blanch the first batch for a minute or less, drain and dress with butter, salt and pepper, maybe a smidge of mint. Featuring the pea, that’s it. Next, I’ll make new potatoes and peas with cream like my mom makes; and a pasta with peas, chives and a little bacon. There’s a pesto made with peas that’s supposed to be wonderful. I’ll muck around in the kitchen with some of this and report back.
Plucking the peas from the pod is a meditation that might be as nutritious in its own way as the pea itself. Read the rest of this entry »
With tomatoes in season, there is no place I’d rather be than North Carolina. Growing up, one of my all-time favorite foods was a tomato sandwich — just bread, big slices of ripe tomatoes, mayo and plenty of salt and pepper. There were hot summer days when I would be perfectly happy to have a tomato sandwich and nothing else except maybe a big glass of iced tea.
In my mind, the BLT is a fancy tomato sandwich. If you are trying to be traditional, white bread is the way to go but a good local sourdough is permissible. Smear both pieces generously with mayo, then add slices of tomato and salt and pepper. From there you can continue to build your sandwich anyway you like –crispy bacon and crunchy lettuce for the classic BLT or add sliced turkey and another slice of bread to make a triple-decker club sandwich. In the end, it all comes down to the perfectly ripened tomato, something we, in the Pacific Northwest, can only get during the summer. At the University Farmers Market you can get tomatoes from Billy’s, lettuce from Let Us Farm (Tolt’s) or Willie Green’s and bacon from Skagit River Ranch or Wooly Pigs .
If you are thinking about that bathing suit you need to fit into and want a little less bread, try a BLT salad. I found this recipe on epicurious.com and don’t know why I haven’t thought of it before. It makes a lighter meal than the traditional BLT without sacrificing the essential ingredients.
Our Montmorency cherry tree is having its annual 15-minutes of fame. Loaded with bright pink and golden cherries, it glows festively and looks like it’s been decorated with a string of lights. Cherries are enticing and children sometimes find their hot pinkness irresistible, grab a couple and pop them straight into their mouths, then right back out again. They may be pretty, but they’re sour as can be. Come to think of it, I know someone exactly like that. The first few years we had a productive yield we covered and then later uncovered the entire tree with a light net, trying to protect the fruit from critters. What a hassle. We then discovered that creatures weren’t so enamored with a sour cherry either, at least not until the peak moment of ripeness when they become only slightly sweeter. We nab them right then, and there are more every year. Some go straight into a pie or fritter, some into the freezer. And Montmorency cherries are courteous about shedding their seed: when the cherry is ripe it turns bright pink and with a tiny squeeze slips right off its own pit, leaving it there on the tree along with the stem.
Mouths watering, pie making begins. We had cherry pie on the 4th - what a way to celebrate Independence Day. Cherries are as American as apple pie, almost as patriotic, and they have serious attitude. I hope they vote.
Shortly after we arrived in North Carolina Friday evening, we experienced a southern style thunder-and-lightning storm. There were lightning fireworks and torrential rain on our drive to my sister’s home followed by thunder that seemed to shake the house. I remember these afternoon storms from my childhood but I’m told that lately they have mostly been replaced by drought. I knew the storm wouldn’t last until morning when we had plans to hit the Carrboro Farmers Market before heading to the beach on Sunday morning. Even though there are plenty of produce stands along the coast, this had been a tradition of mine from when I lived in Chapel Hill and I was anxious to check out the local scene.
It didn’t take long for me to spot my personal favorite tomato, the German Johnson, along with many other heirloom varieties — they’re everything I’ve been longing for in a tomato.
All the crops that love heat and nutrient-rich clay soil were there in abundance.
Peppers, eggplant, huge unbelievably sweet blackberries, melons of all kinds and peaches, the kind that practically melt in your mouth. Read the rest of this entry »
. . . the California variety.(On Mondays we’re revisiting posts from the past. This is a curtain call for The Other Olive Oil.)
The domestic and imported versions look almost the same, are almost the same. However, one was transported five to six thousand miles to arrive in our grocery stores, the other more like seven hundred miles. One is steeped in romance and ancient history, the other not so much, though California has a little olive oil history of its own. Olive trees were originally planted at Spanish missions there in the 18th century, thrived for a while and then languished during most of the twentieth century. Clearly there’s a revival happening now. Italian, Greek and Spanish oils are not easily abandoned and I don’t suggest that, but we do have a domestic alternative that deserves consideration.
California olive oil can be found in most grocery stores if you’re willing to look. I admit, you have to check labels a little compulsively, and when I visited five different grocery stores in the Seattle area I found just a few options. That will change, but right now you have to be willing to look, and there’s a hitch. Several, but not all, of the domestic brands were actually a mix of California and imported oils. This includes organic Napa Valley Olive Oils (the Napa Valley Naturalsbrand). It can be found at grocery stores, in bulk at PCC and is a mixture of California and Argentine oils. There are definitely California olive oils available in PNW stores, you just have to be tenacious about discovering your own best source. (More options to explore online and links below are a source of additional information.)
I’ve heard rumors that there may be a gutsy B.C. farmer willing to try growing olive trees. It sounds crazy, but there’s more and more evidence about the variety of foods we’ve given up trying to grow that we might grow successfully again. PNW olive groves may or may not be one of them. So, what’s the point? If you enjoy the taste and health benefits of olive oil, and wish to find ways to diminish your carbon footprint and the affects of global warming, then domestic olive oil is something to consider.
While you’re thinking about it all, try this herbaceous mix with a delicious loaf of bread. Read the rest of this entry »
Food for thought about living sustainably from Kitchen Garden’s International. This video gets interesting, after a brief intro, by showing a family’s edible garden in both their back and front yard.
Fritz Haeg’s website is informative on this topic of edible gardens and reflects his devotion as a designer to using yard space for something more than grass.
I’ll blanch the first batch for a minute or less, drain and dress with butter, salt and pepper, maybe a smidge of mint. Featuring the pea, that’s it. Next, I’ll make new potatoes and peas with cream like my mom makes; and a pasta with peas, chives and a little bacon. There’s a pesto made with peas that’s supposed to be wonderful. I’ll muck around in the kitchen with some of this and report back.
Our Montmorency cherry tree is having its annual 15-minutes of fame. Loaded with bright pink and golden cherries, it glows festively and looks like it’s been decorated with a string of lights. Cherries are enticing and children sometimes find their hot pinkness irresistible, grab a couple and pop them straight into their mouths, then right back out again. They may be pretty, but they’re sour as can be. Come to think of it, I know someone exactly like that. 
