Life is Like a Bowl of Cherries...

Home-canned Sweet Cherries

We're very much enjoying our preserved local fruits this season.  When I'm not able to get my hands on local apples or seasonal citrus, I know that we still have large stores of canned peaches, plums, and sweet cherries in the basement pantry.  The cherries I preserve are always a tribute to my Gramma who canned sweet bing cherries every season.  I love eating a bowl of them with breakfast.  They are not pitted so part of the ritual is working the fruit off of the pit in your mouth then discarding the seed into a bowl.  Vera, especially, has grown to love these lightly sweetened (with xylitol) fruits this year though her serving requires a bit more maintenance as I have to pre-pit them.  Aside from enjoying the fruit, I am able to ration the remaining juice to use in smoothies.  We still have several more quarts each of cherries, plums, and peaches and I'm hoping they will carry us to this next season's local harvest.

Friday night we "went out."  It was actually a family outing to see an environmental film at our church.  Vera played in the nursery while Ben and I viewed Grown in Detroit with fellow gardeners and community activists from our church and beyond.  One can watch this film on-demand online.  I recommend it.  I thought it was inspirational on many levels not the least of which was teaching young people about growing food in the city.  Check out our organization's schedule of upcoming films through June.  I hope to see you there.

Yesterday I finally made time to start some seeds indoors.  I cut my egg cartons into strips, poked a large hole in the bottom and laid them all on an old sheet tray, added a bit of potting soil and the seeds, topped them with soil, marked them with variety and date, and gave them a little water before covering them with black fabric and stowing them in my bedroom storage closet to germinate.  One of Ben's task for this week is to set up the grow lights in the basement.  The brassicas I seeded--three kinds of kale, cauliflower, broccoli, and both purple and white kohlrabi--could sprout within days so he's on the clock.

This Saturday was one of the most wonderful days I've enjoyed in a while.  I have definitely felt less hectic and harried this winter and yesterday was another day towards that record.  Shockingly, I have actually found myself standing around, listless, a few times in recent months.  Wow!  I didn't know what to do with myself (of course, I completely ignored the Rainy Day List that's tucked away at my desk.)  I spent some time outside reading (in the sun!) while Vera played.  We took a walk, I curled up with a book, made a pot of chili, watched a movie and ate popcorn with my family, and BAKED on a whim.  It was fantastic.  Despite my maintained avoidance of white sugar, I still have quite a sweet tooth so it's not easy for me not to bake something regularly.  I made some cookies that were "wafer-thin"--to reference one of our favorite household movie quotes--though their thinness makes it tempting to allow ourselves to eat several at a time.  I stepped away from the cooling rack of a dozen or so and when I returned "someone" had eaten half of them.  I love that my husband appreciates my baking.  (I submitted this recipe to The Spunky Coconut's "Our Spunky Holiday" Easter recipe roundup.  Please check out this great gluten-free blog.)

"Wafer Thin" Cashew Butter Cookies
Makes about 2 dozen

Adapted from the Blackbird Bakery Gluten-Free Cookbook by Karen Morgan.  The original recipe calls for chilling the dough for 1 hour before baking; this would give you a cookie that doesn't spread as much.  I preferred more of a thin "tuile-like" cookie.  These were thin, a little "greasy" (in a finger-lickin'-good way), and chewy once they cooled.


1 c. toasted and salted cashews
1/2 sweet rice flour
1/4 c. millet flour
1/4 c. tapioca flour
1/2 c. cornstarch
1/4 t. baking soda
1 t. guar gum
1/4 t. kosher salt
1/2 c. coconut oil at room temp.
3/4 c. packed light brown sugar
1/4 c. xylitol
1 T. egg replacer diluted with 1/4 c. water
2 1/4 t. vanilla extract

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and line baking sheet with parchment or silicone baking mat.  In food processor, process cashews until finely ground.  In medium bowl, combine all dry ingredients except  sweeteners.  Stir with a whisk to blend.  In mixer fitted with paddle attachment, cream coconut oil, ground cashews, brown sugar, and xylitol on medium speed until light and fluffy.  Gradually beat in dry ingredients until blended.  Gradually beat in diluted egg replacer, scraping down sides of bowl.  Beat in vanilla.  Use a small scoop to spoon little balls of dough onto baking sheet 1 1/2-2 inches apart.  Bake 10-15 min. or until cookies are lightly browned around the edges.  Remove from oven and let cool 5 min. before transferring to cooling rack.  Let cool completely then store in an airtight container.

"It is wafer thin."

And for some more preservation inspiration, this is my dream pantry!

My Dream Pantry (photo courtesy "Canning Across America")

Inspiration for Preservation

photo courtesy Food Mayhem

On Sunday I took a short field trip to the new Asian mega-grocery store, Pacific Produce, on south 27th St.  I went alone knowing I would want ample time to browse, explore, and pick up a few odd things on my list as well as some "novelty" items I might find.  What a store!  There was an entire aisle in this former Kohl's supermarket devoted just to noodles--rice, wheat, egg, thick, thin, and instant.  Another whole side of on aisle was all tea--loose, bagged, boxed, in metal tins and fancy jars.  As I strolled the aisles I recognized many items I once knew well in my days cooking at a Japanese restaurant.  Many other items required a bit of exploration as I turned them upside down and right side up trying to find some indication in English of what the package contained.   As I perused the fresh seafood section and saw salmon heads on ice I was again reminded of working with Izumi-san.  One day after dressing some fresh fish (probably flown over from Japan the day before) he presented me with a box of fish heads, fins, and tails.  The whole fish--especially the intestines--is prized and edible in some Oriental cuisines.  Though I held back a cringe as I received this "gift" I knew I could not turn it down--though I tried because I was flying out the following day to meet my parents.  The chef insisted that I tote the plastic box of fish parts with me and simply stow it under my seat in flight.  All I remember is that it made the base (stock) for a lovely fish stew later.  I digress.  One of the interesting items I found at the asian store was gingko nuts.  I had just come across a recipe for wild foraged gingko nut dumplings in Lucid Food, which I mentioned here.  I will try the frozen variety to see if I like them before going out to harvest my own and process these stinky fruits.  I also checked out the frozen treats and got an idea to develop a recipe for a dairy-free red bean ice cream (Japanese cuisine uses adzuki beans as well as making frozen treats from both mung and black beans.)  The biggest inspiration and excitement came from the pickled products lining one whole side of another aisle.  There was everything from pickled gooseberries and mimosa leaves to brined mustard greens, ginger, and daikon.  I can't wait to outline my preserving plans for this season and to clear out the other side of my basement pantry to accommodate my expanded larder.  As you can see, I'm officially excited to start the gardening season.

I've also been working on some homemade self-care products.  There's a lot of dental care going on in our house these days (oh, the drama!) and with that I decided to make some mouthwash to treat my "condition" about which I will spare you the details.  This mouthwash contains essential oils known for killing bacteria.  The flavor takes some getting used to but after a few uses I'm enjoying the "clove-y-ness" of it.  I think it's much better than that stinging blast of artificial mint-y-ness that some store bought products provide.

Homemade Mouthwash

Makes 2 c.

Adapted from Natural Beauty.

2 c. purified water

2 t. vodka

2 drops clove essential oil

2 drops thyme essential oil

Mix the ingredients well and store in a container at room temp.  Use several times per day.  

On a more appetizing note, I prepared a memorable soup yesterday for Monday Soup Night

Creamy Roasted Red Pepper Soup

Serves 8

Adapted from The Whole Foods Allergy Cookbook by Cybele Pascal.  I used our home-canned crushed tomatoes and roasted red peppers as well as a fresh yellow pepper and some julienned frozen local red peppers.

Mmm, warm soup

2 medium potatoes, chopped into 1-inch pieces (skins in tact), cooked in salted water until very soft

4 c. vegetable or chicken stock

1 c. roasted red peppers, sliced

Home-canned Roasted Reds

2 c. red, orange, or yellow bell peppers, seeded and chopped

1 large onion, minced

4 T. grapeseed oil

1/2 c. canned tomatoes, chopped

2 T. oat flour or rice flour

1 c. almond or rice milk

1 T. honey

1/2 t. paprika

1/4 t. ground cumin

2 T. dry white wine

salt and pepper

chopped parsley for garnish (optional)

Blue corn tortilla chips for garnish (optional)

In a large pot, heat 2 T. of oil and cook the onion until soft, but not browned.  Add chopped peppers, chopped tomatoes, and stock.  Cook until peppers become soft.  In the meantime, puree the potatoes and their cooking liquid in a food processor until smooth; add to pepper pot.  When peppers are soft, turn off heat and puree in batches.  Heat remaining oil in a small skillet and add flour.  Cook for a minute or so to make a roux.  Add milk and cook for a couple of minutes until sauce thickens.  Add to pepper puree.  Combine and turn heat to medium, then stir in honey, paprika, cumin, wine, salt and pepper.  Cook and simmer about 20 min., stirring occasionally.  Serve with suggested garnishes, if desired.

Speaking of hot soup, today was the perfect cold rainy day to go out and puddle jump then warm up with some hearty food afterwards (we chose hot cocoa and homemade cookies).  The last bit of cabin fever is lingering and today we did not hesitate to get outside to fight it.  Even Mommy stepped into her rain boots; Vera and I had a great time running and splashing in the puddles along our cobblestone alley.  She was pretty soaked after it all, but the fun was worth a fresh change of clothes.  

Last but certainly not least, at a conference a few weeks ago I met a young rural homesteader from Viroqua who is involved with the Driftless Folk School.  Their calendar of classes is now online; I hope to get over to that neck of the woods one of these summers to learn some new skills.  Check it out!

Notes on a Roadtrip

Vera sitting by the lake on a gorgeous morn.

It was refreshing to get away for a few days; Vera and I returned from downstate Illinois late yesterday afternoon.  It was almost 25 years ago that my family moved to Paris, IL after my dad took a new job.  Between driving back up to Wisconsin to visit relatives and friends during grade school and high school and driving back south to visit my family and friends these days "I reckon" (to use to their vernacular) I've made the trip up and down I-94 and I-57 more than 100 times, wearing a deep path in those roads as well as the trails from college in Indiana to Racine/Milwaukee to do the same.  Whew!  It's all gone by in a flash.  That trip, especially when I'm "solo," gives my mind plenty of time to wander.  First there are the memories of my English teacher mother steeped in Shakespeare saying "Is it Rosencrantz and Guildenstern or Rosenstern and Guildencrantz?" every time we'd pass the sign for Rosecrans Rd.  Then there are the mental pictures of singing along with local radio stations (especially oldies) when my mom and I would make the trip by ourselves.  There are recollections of how many different ways my dad found to get from Point A to Point B over that time, including a couple of years when he decided that hugging the eastside of the Indiana/Illinois border was the quickest route.  And of course I remember the butterflies in my stomach when we'd almost reached our destination (on either end) and I could see those I'd been waiting to visit.  Now I find it more interesting to drive the long stretches of highway in east central Illinois, look out at the vast mono-cropped fields and imagine what they looked like when there were billions of acres of virgin prairie.  My eye also catches the signs posted sequentially along the fence lines promoting gun owners' rights and corn ethanol.  And I consider how those in the small podunk towns I speed through at the southernmost part of my journey make a living.  It's most interesting to go back "home" and see how all, including myself, have changed.  Though I wouldn't want to live in a small town anymore, there are advantages--people are familiar and therefore look out for each other, you can go into any store and run into a neighbor or someone else you know, and the filling stations have diesel readily available (unlike many neighborhoods in Milwaukee) for my current car because of all the farm trucks circling the area.  My parents live on a good-sized lot on a peaceful dead end street on a manmade lake.  As I looked out the second story window of my old bedroom one morning I realized for the first time how large their front yard is--without the trees that were there when I grew up, the space appears much larger.  But as my eyes continued across the street and over the houses down the block I realized just how huge everyone's yards is.  As an urbanite, with precious square feet of planting space on my property, it always makes me think about what an enornous vegetable garden I could plant had I all that space.  The interesting thing is that I know a lot of these folks don't have big gardens, lots of children running around, or a backyard chicken coop that requires the expanse.  There are a couple of swimming pools, but mostly I think it's that people want/need the space as a buffer between them and their neighbors.  How interesting.  I've become so used to being just feet from the next house--so close we can hear conversations from houses down the block and across the alley.  And it doesn't bother us a bit.  I just realized that being so close in proximity to those dwelling next door has a lot to do with how we live as more of a tight community in such a large city, whereas those living in a small town can see each other here, there and everywhere and therefore need more space between after hours.  I understand it, but I'd still dig up the grass and plant a garden.

An old hospital cart I use to file my seeds.

On that note, I am set to start some vegetable seeds this weekend.  I attended a seed swap last Saturday and came away with all of the seeds I was looking for this season.  I passed along a couple handfuls of my own seeds as well.  The great thing about a seed swap is that when you're able to know who the seeds come from, it's like having a little bit of each person in your garden that season.  And what lovely souls we will have growing in our yard!  I saw a few fellow Transitioners and experienced gardeners and met some new, extremely enthusiastic greenhorns.  One woman I spoke to will be gardening at the Bay View Hide House community garden this year as well as on her balcony.  She's never gardened before, but due to the economy and her job situation she's going for the gusto and jumping right in.  I gave her my standard "what can you afford to lose" schpeel that I give to first time gardeners--think about how much money you can afford to spend and lose if nothing comes up.  Though it's almost a given that something will sprout.  We also discussed the fact that, despite--or perhaps because of--what's happening politically in our state, with the economy, or in our own neighborhoods we have to go at vegetable-growing even more aggressively this year.  The government can't stop us from growing our own food so if we can control nothing else, we can have power over how we feed ourselves.  We need our gardens more than ever and we need each other more than ever to share the abundance, knowledge, lore, and perhaps even a potluck.  I am especially excited for this season because it's really the first time I won't be expanding my garden beds, which means I won't be spending so much time pulling up grass and constructing raised beds but will have extra hours to plant, nurture, stake, and grow.  While I was in Paris I had a chance to sketch out my garden design for 2011 and am I psyched!

Seeds, seeds...

...and more seeds.

  

Seasonal Comforts

photo courtesy of Snapping Beauty

I saw a cluster of daffodils poking their necks a few inches out of the ground last Saturday.  I couldn't believe it!  With the additional snow days we've had lately I was beginning to think spring was at least a couple of months away.  Next week I will begin starting my garden seeds and stagger them every week or so until I can plant outside.  This Saturday is "Seed Dating," a city-wide Seed Exchange where I'm planning to pass along some seeds I have from last year that I either have too many of or that didn't work out in my garden space.  And I'm hoping to supplement the stock I already have with a couple new varieties for this season.  Soon I will also begin sketching my garden design.  Though my three-month "winter break" has flown, I believe I'm ready to get growing again.  Everywhere I walk in our neighborhood I see things that make me think of summer.  I can almost smell backyard barbecue wafting through the air.  I'm looking forward to picnics and concerts in the park, rummage sales, farmers' markets, going barefoot around the house and yard, my bi-weekly morning therapy of hanging laundry outside, and spontaneous bike rides to the ice cream parlor (sorbet for me, please.)

My favorite chili

Next week Vera and I are taking a road trip to see Grammy and Papa in my hometown in east central Illinois.  To break up the trip we're stopping in Chicago to see a couple friends and their newborns--well, one was born in July, but it's the first chance I've had to visit.  When Vera was born so many wonderful people brought us meals for weeks and weeks postpartum.  I'm still paying it forward so today I cooked a pot of my favorite chili to deliver on Sunday.  I adapted the recipe and partially subbed a pint of my preserved green tomatoes where the recipe called for tomatoes.  

The pantry is slowly emptying out.  We still have plenty of canned fruits, juices, pickles, and tons of jams and jellies.  But I'm already getting excited about what I'm going to preserve this summer and considering moving my fabric stash out of the other side of the basement pantry to accommodate my 2011 goals.  Soon I'll be in the thick of gardening and preserving and wondering how the weather suddenly got so hot.  One of the items still plentiful in the pantry is canned plums.  I've been using them mostly in smoothies, but last night I baked them into something sweet for a potluck.

Oat Crisp Bars with Preserved Plums
About 12 bars

Adapted from Flying Apron's Gluten-Free and Vegan Baking Book

Final Crisp--not too sweet

5 c. gluten-free oats, divided
1/4 c. brown rice syrup
1/2 c. sorghum syrup, divided
1 c. extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 t. salt
1 t. vanilla extract (or vanilla sugar)
3 1/2 c. preserved plums (pulsed briefly in a food processor)
1/4 c. potato starch

Place 2 c. oats in a food processor and pulse until oats resemble fine oat bran.  Set aside.  Preheat oven to 375 degrees.  In the bowl of an electric mixer with paddle attachment, combine reserved "oat flour," the remaining 3 c. oats, brown rice syrup, 1/4 c. sorghum syrup, olive oil, salt, and vanilla until thoroughly combined, about 3 min.  Firmly press two-thirds of the dough onto a 9- by 12-inch baking sheet. Bake until light brown, about 15 min.  While the dough is baking, combine the plums, potato starch, remaining 1/4 c. sorghum syrup in medium-size bowl.  Evenly spread plum mixture over baked oat crust.  Crumble the remaining one-third of the dough over the plums, pressing it down firmly.  Bake until golden crust forms, about 40 min.