Adventures with Apples

My apple processing efforts this year have been ones of days-long deliberation over what exactly to do with them.  The apple butter took at least three days for me to cook, make the butter, then find time to can it.  The wild apples I picked last Sunday were no different.  They sat in the quarter bushel basket on my counter for a couple days looking beautiful, then I cooked them down and they sat in the pot another 2-3 days until I finally decided that I would NOT can them.  It's always a challenge to squeeze this homesteading activity in between Vera's naps (I don't like her playing in or passing through the kitchen when the kettle is boiling hot--and sometimes splashing out--within her reach...not to mention, canning usually requires my full attention and so does an 18-month-old.)  I knew I wouldn't get a huge amount of sauce from this harvest and probably wasn't going to get seconds from my favorite orchard (they're using all of this year's seconds to meet the demand for cider.)  It's more in line with my urban homesteading ideals anyway to use what's in our vicinity, so I think it's meant to be that I don't acquire more for sauce.  Making applesauce is most important to me for baking purposes (though Vera would beg to differ)--I sometimes substitute it for half the amount of oil in a recipe, which cuts back on my vegetable oil bill and adds another local ingredient to my baked goods.  So with the sauce I rendered, I portioned it into 1/4 and 1/2 cup amounts and froze it in muffin pans.  When these solidify, I'll put the portions into freezer bags then dole out what I need for baking...and Vera will probably get to eat some as well.  The following is my favorite recipe in which to use applesauce.  Perhaps you have zucchini surviving in your garden or see you'll see it at the next farmers' market.  We got a large one in our CSA box this week.  Shred and freeze the zukes to use this winter in zucchini bread--label the freezer bag(s) with the amount(s) called for in the recipe--or bake it today and enjoy this weekend.  I do some mad freezing of zucchini throughout the summer.  Once, Ben walked in the door right as I was furiously feeding these into the food processor and said "Whoa!" explaining that it was like the last scene from "Fargo" when the guy's feeding the body through the wood shredder.

Glazed Zucchini Bread
Makes one 9x5-inch or three 5 1/2x3-inch loaves

Adapted from The Bread Bible by Beth Hensperger


6 T. vegetable oil
6 T. applesauce
1 1/2 c. sugar (or xylitol)
3 large eggs
1 t. vanilla extract
2 c. grated zucchini
2 c. unbleached all-purpose flour
1 1/2 t. baking soda
1 t. baking powder
1/4 t. salt
1 t. ground cinnamon
1 t. ground cloves
1 c. (4 oz.) walnuts, chopped, or raisins (dark or golden), plumped and drained

Brandy Glaze:
1/4 c. sugar (or xylitol)
1/4 c. brandy or cognac

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.  Grease and flour loaf pans.  In a medium bowl, using a whisk or electric mixer, combine oil and sugar.  Beat hard until light colored and creamy about 1 min.  Add eggs and vanilla and beat again until well combined.  Fold in grated zucchini and stir until evenly distributed.  In a large bowl, combine flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt, cinnamon, cloves, and walnuts or raisins.  Add zucchini-egg-mixture and stir to combine.  Beat just until batter is evenly combined and creamy in consistency, about 1 min.  Spoon batter into pan.  Place pan in center of oven; bake 65-75 min. for large loaf, 40-50 min. for small loaves, or until  tops are firm, loaves pull away from sides of pans and knife/skewer inserted into center comes out clean.  Let loaves stand in pan(s) 5 min.

To prepare glaze: Combine sugar and brandy in a small saucepan.  Cook over low heat just until sugar dissolves.  Set aside.  Pierce hot loaves, top to bottom with a bamboo skewer or metal cake tester about 10 times.  Pour on the warm glaze immediately.  Cool in pan 30 min. before removing to finish cooling on rack.  Wrap tightly in plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight before serving.

Spicy Dill Carrots

This week I achieved my goal of canning dilly carrots with our own carrots and hot peppers.  Just a few pints, but enough to accompany our dilly beans on a relish tray at our Sunday dinner parties.  I also spontaneously canned some onion and fennel relish using a fennel bulb from last week's CSA box.  Just a few jars of relish that could be processed for the same amount of time as the carrots, I was able to process a full batch in the kettle.

Onion and Fennel Relish
Makes 6 half-pints

2 lbs. large onions, peeled and cut into eighths
A 2-inch piece gingerroot, peeled and coarsely chopped
3 medium-sized fennel bulbs, trimmed, outer layer removed if discolored
1 t. fennel seeds
1 t. crushed dried rosemary
1/2 c. sugar (or xylitol)
1/2 c. rice wine vinegar or white wine vinegar
1/2 c. water
1 T. dried tarragon

In small batches, combine onion, ginger, and fennel in a food processor and pulse rapidly until finely chopped.  Transfer to large pot, add fennel seeds, rosemary, sugar, vinegar, and water, and bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring occasionally.  Cover, reduce heat, simmer 15 min.  Uncover, stir in tarragon, and cook until most of liquid has evaporated, about 15-20 min.  While relish is cooking, prepare jars, lids, and bands for canning.  Fill each jar with relish, leaving 1/4-inch headspace.  Pack relish into jars, remove air bubbles and wipe rims.  Place lids and rings on jars and process for 10 min. in a hot water bath canner.  Cool, check seals, label, and store.

I still haven't identified all of the wild berries I spotted on our foraging trip last Sunday so I e-mailed photos of these potential goodies to the foraging expert at the Urban Ecology Center, Matt Flower.  (With a name like that he's destined to study nature--kind of like my dad's college geology teacher, Dr. Lava or my college wine professor, Dr. Vine.  Reminds me of how our European ancestors earned their last names based on their trades.)  I'm hoping to get a response soon so I can return to the park to harvest.  I'm currently consulting my wild edible food guides and online resources to no avail.

It feels like it will be a chilly weekend.  I'm looking forward to planting more fall greens in the garden to accompany the arugula, beets, mustards, and lettuce I seeded on Wednesday.  Sunday we have plans to host some Chicago friends for Sunday brunch.  More details on that after the weekend.  Enjoy the weather!

Spring Foraging

Saturday was a great day for a ramp foraging foray.  This is the first year I've preserved these wild leeks in some way.  Usually I gather a huge bag and by the time I use them in cooking they've started getting slimy in the back of the fridge.  Vera and I set out early that morning--or at least early by most standards on a Saturday--and went off-roading with with the buggy in the nearby woods.  It was a dew-capped morning so everything was a beautiful, glowing shade of green.  We saw tons of jack-in-the-pulpit, wild geraniums, Virginia waterleaf, mayapples, and finally the prized ramps, which are part of the lily family like other alliums.  Their leaf most closely resembles that of a lily of the valley.  Armed with my weed digger and a couple plastic bags, I went to town digging them up whenever I saw a large patch.  This was the latest in the season I've ever gathered ramps so I found them to be good size.  While I was in the woods I decided to casually look for morels.  I'd never gone "mushroom huntin'," as they call it in my small hometown in east central Illinois.   When we moved there in the late 80s the first thing my dad did was buy cowboy boots, then a friend took him hunting for fungi.  So until the last several years I'd always thought of it as an activity these rural folk partook in when they weren't fishin' or frog-giggin'.  I was reminded of this recently when my husband handed me a Newsweek article about the sport.  "Hillybilly Haute Cuisine" was the title and the writer reminisced about fryin' 'em up in Crisco.  (Gasp!)  I saw plenty of other mushrooms in the woods on Saturday, but not the elusive morel.  I'd heard that a moist day after a good rain was prime time for hunting.  I thought my thrift store eyes, which can quickly scan for the littlest details, would serve me well, but the little goodies were better at hiding than I was at searching.  So I went home empty-handed as far as morels go, but walked about with two bursting bread bags of ramps.  Vera slept through it all, as usual.

I found some tried and true preserved ramp recipes online at the blog Well Preserved that use both the greens and the bulb.  I tweaked the pesto recipe a bit to use sorrel, which is growing like a weed in our yard and probably going to seed very soon.  I think it's safe to say I'm on a pesto kick, what with the radish leaf pesto I made the other day.  It isn't even basil season yet and I've got more than 35 portions in my freezer.  I'm mentally tasting all the ways I can make bruschetta for winter appetizers, not to mention pasta, pizza, and soups with a pesto accent.

Ramp and Sorrel Pesto
Makes 3-4 oz. portions

1/2 c. ramp greens, coarsely chopped
1/2 c. sorrel, coarsely chopped
1 T. olive oil
1 t. lemon zest or 1/2 t. dehydrated lemon peel (check the spice aisle)
1/4 c. pine nuts or almonds (toasted)
salt and pepper to taste
1/4 c. Parmesan or part-skim mozzarella cheese

Combine all ingredients in the food processor and process until smooth.  For freezing, portion into a dedicated ice cube tray or a mini muffin pan.  Once they are frozen, transfer the cubes to a freezer-quality bag, label, date and freeze.

Pickled Ramps
Makes 8-1/2 pint jars

8 c. ramp bulbs, loosely packed
5 1/2 c. white vinegar (5% acidity)
1 c. water
2 t. canning and pickling salt
2 c. granulated sugar
4 t. mustard seed
4 t. coriander seed
4 t. celery seed

Sterilize canning jars, rings, and dome lids according to instructions.  Add a 1/2 t. of each spice to the eight half-pint jars.  Simmer the vinegar, water, salt, and sugar for 3 min.  Add the ramps and bring back to a gentle simmer for 5 min.  Lift out the ramps with a slotted spoon and place them into the canning jars.  Add the brine, remove air bubbles and place in a hot water bath under a full boil for 10 min.  Let cool completely, label, date, and store.

Despite the success of our spring garden, which is now almost done, I've had one big disappointment.  Our asparagus never came back.  This would have been year three, which meant we could finally harvest.  I had dreams of posting all kinds of recipes using my homegrown stalks.  I've asked farmers I know, consulted books and websites and I can't find any information about why this perennial wouldn't have returned.  My only thought is that as they were installing the new fence, there was so much soil compaction that the asparagus just couldn't push through.  Ben and I shook on it last night that if it doesn't come back next year, we'll put a hot tub in place of the patch (Yeah right!  My growing space is too precious for that!)  I'm sure I'll still enjoy some local asparagus this season, even if I didn't grow it myself.  I'll be sure to share any interesting recipes.

All I have left to say is let summer begin!  We made some great progress yesterday in readying our patio for al fresco dining and entertaining this summer.  We hung the shade sail--pardon me (ahem), "Party Sail" and added some chili lights, which I had stashed in the basement and believe to have retrieved from my brother's fraternity house in college.  Last night Ben and I kicked it off by enjoying some local wine and beer in the yard.  We need to do more of that on summer nights.  Here's to christening the "warm season" here in Wisconsin.  Cheers!