Category Archives: Cooking

Groceries.

Lugnasa                                                                   New (Autumn) Moon

On the asphalt headed toward the grocery store, Festival, this morning.  You can tell it’s fall because the outside of the store sports very large boxes of pumpkins and still tightly gathered mums in pots.  Soon there will be shocks of corn and bales of hay.  Inside caramel coated apples, plain and nut covered, and the first red grapes of the fall.

Monday morning is a slow day at the market.  Two of the grocery guys were out stocking shelve, each apparently a healthy consumer of the store’s products (that’s healthy in the eats a hell of a lot sense), a produce clerk arranged pineapples above the bananas.

A few shoppers, mostly purposeful, no wandering.  Cereal aisle.  Check.  Turkey and sausage.  Check.   Eggs.  Pizza.  Bread.

Going hungry to the grocery store is a sure way to make fat profits for the nice folks at Festival and I was hungry.  I went $40+ over our weekly food budget, but on the bright side, I got a lot of good things to eat.

Then home.  Now, nap.

In August, Thinking of January

Lugnasa                                                               Garlic Planting Moon

The harvest and preservation season continues apace.  This morning I made a leek/tomato soup using 18 of our own leeks, two of our tomatoes and six of the ones we purchased yesterday at Green Barn, also locally grown.  This afternoon I’ll make another four chicken-leek pot pies for freezing and tomorrow a batch of chicken noodle soup and at least one, if not two, sugar cream pies.

Sugar cream pies are a Hoosier tradition and one of my favorites.  On a webpage devoted to the history of the sugar cream pie in Indiana it referred to the recipe as a desperation one, a recipe used when all the other stores had been used up.  Could be.  The recipes, though they vary a bit, all call for butter, cream and sugar.  Some of them that’s the whole recipe.  Finger stir–so as not to whip the cream–pop in the oven.

Desperation never tasted so good.

So we’re in August here in Andover, thinking of December and January.  The house smells great.  Kate’s making corn relish,

Gimmee That.

Lugnasa                                                               Garlic Planting Moon

Kona, our 12 year old whippet, as spry and agile as ever, a canine hymn to successful aging, started, about a week ago, jumping up and pulling down bagged honeycrisp apples.  They were on a low hanging branch and I can’t imagine what she thought she was about, but she bagged (sorry) several before I saw her in the act and promptly plugged up her way into the orchard.

Honeycrisps mature in mid-September, so her effort, maybe she was being helpful?, was premature by a month or so.  As a result, Kate and I decided to try drying apples and pears.

A word on pears.  Thankfully Kate saw this in a drying article on pears and we got them off the tree in time.  Saw what?  Well, the UofM extensions says the mistake most novice pear growers make is to let the pears ripen on the tree.  Geez.  Turns out they get grainy and not as tasty if you let Mother finish the job.

We cut up the seven apples I recovered (some had been gnawed on by other dogs) and the four pears, soaked them in sodium bisulfite (from your friendly home brewing store in nearby Springlake Park), spread them out on drying racks and put them in our Excalibur.  I had a slice when I got up from my nap and they taste just like dried apples!  Success.

We’re reinventing ma and pa every day here this fall in Andover.

 

Ancient Necessity

Lugnasa                                                                  New (Garlic Planting) Moon

This afternoon as Kate and I drove out for a late lunch, the clouds were high cirrus, horse-tails against a robin’s egg sky.  The angle of the sun tells the story of seasonal procession and the temperature hinted at fall days still a ways ahead.  We’ve lost 97 minutes of daylight, having long ago turned the corner headed toward the winter solstice.

A lot of the garden activity now happens inside the house.  Herb and fruit drying, soup making, soon canning.  These are the harvest months of August, September and October.  No, we don’t subsist based on our garden’s produce, but eat it we do, over most of the year, either directly from the garden or laid by in any of various methods.  In a sense we only continue the long Midwestern cultural tradition laid down by ancient necessity, the life or death need to eat during the cold months.

Our harvest and preserving echoes that tradition since necessity long ago gave way to grocery stores and farmer’s markets, but in that echo we can hear the voices of our grandmothers and our grandfathers as they worked in the fields, filled the farm kitchen with the heat of their cooking, preparing themselves and their family for winter.

Lack of necessity, however, does not mean lack of need.  I believe there is a need for us to plant a seed, or nurture a transplant, to care for a tree or bush or a flower.  And more.  To gain in reciprocity something from that nurture: a fruit, a vegetable, some sustenance.  And more.  To use that food on our own tables, to create the magic of the true transubstantiation, flesh of the earth, blood of the sun, work of the plant made into our body.

This is an ancient necessity, to know this transformation from plant to food.  Why?  Because no matter our physical location, it is still and will be for the foreseeable future the source of everything we eat.  If we do not understand it, we will not protect it.  If we do not protect this source, we are in danger of losing it.  Ancient.  Necessity.

Latin Fridays. (Maybe I Should Eat Fish, Too?)

Lugnasa                                                       New (Garlic Planting) Moon

Down in the pits with Ovid this morning, rasslin’.  I’m not moving as fast as I did a month ago, but I believe that this stretch is more difficult, not that I’m slower.  There are many small satisfactions in translation:  learning new words, puzzling out word order, identifying conjugations, putting phrases together to form a sentence and sentences together to form a narrative.  I enjoy it.

Today is a Latin day, so I’ll whack away at Ovid in the afternoon, too, before I work out.  Tomorrow it’s back to Missing though I hope I can work some short Ovid sessions along the way, too.

I had two different couples stop me after the Rembrandt tour yesterday, none of them part of the home school group who were my primary tour.  They both said I was an excellent docent.  Used those words.  That felt good.  I thanked them and said it was good to hear.

Kate’s roasting peppers this morning.  That set off the smoke alarm and the co2 detector.

Homemade Chicken Pot Pie

Lugnasa                                                             Hiroshima Moon

Not only did it not make it to 80 today, the temps didn’t make 70 either.  Ah.

Spent the morning making four chicken, leek and vegetable pies.  Used our leeks and carrots, our thyme and tarragon and dried garlic.  Something very satisfying about cooking with vegetables grown at home.

This is a lengthy process since it involves sauteing vegetables, cooking a whole chicken with celery, carrots, garlic and green onions.  12 cups of water plus corn.  That takes about an hour, cleaning the leeks takes a while, then boiling them in salted water.  Dug a few new potatoes yesterday and added them to the leeks, just for something different.

After the chicken cooks, it comes out of the pot for cooling while the leeks and the potatoes go into the liquid for a gentle warming.  Shredded chicken gets placed in pie shells with crusts, then vegetables ladled over the chicken, mounded in the center.

Butter and flour for a (roue-unintentional humor here.  I meant) roux to thicken the broth a cup and a half at a time.  The thickened broth goes in the pies, four of them.  A frozen pie dough gets flattened with the rolling pin, then draped over the pies.  Vents are cut.

The oven, preheated to 425, receives all four pies.  15 minutes, then down to 350, cook for another 20 minutes.  Done.

Wrapped in aluminum foil three of these pies go in the freezer for mid-winter meals.  The fourth will get reheated for supper tonight.

We have enough leeks to do this several times over.  Next time a bigger chicken, free range, more leeks and some additional vegetables.  Not sure what quite yet.  That awaits the next time.

Each cooking session differs from the last in some way or another.

A Dream, Become Real, Become Dream

Summer                                                Hiroshima Moon

“Dreams pass into the reality of action. From the action stems the dream again; and this interdependence produces the highest form of living.” – Anais Nin

Horticulture.  When we moved in here now 18 years ago, we decided to spend money upfront on landscaping, figuring we could enjoy it over the life of our tenancy rather than putting in as an amenity at the time of a sale.  We hired a landscape architect from Otten Brothers and he put in a basic plan.  Two wild prairie patches on either side of a manicured lawn.  Norway pines, a spruce or two, some amur maples, a genus maple, an oak, some river birch.  Near the house he put on narrow beds planted with shrubs like euonymus, a dwarf lilac, shrub roses, viburnum among others.

A boulder retaining wall in the front shored up a long bed like a peninsula into the green ocean of our yard.  In the back we had them cut a three tiered garden, each tier marked off with boulder retaining walls and divided near the house by steps made of rail-road tie size square lumber.

The rest of our property, all now that is our “backyard”, was part woods and part scrubland covered with black locust trees, thorny and not visually appealing though very good for fence posts.  The first two years after our move I spent cutting down trees, using a commercial wood-chipper to  grind them up and hiring a stump-grinder to come in and rid us of the stumps.  The scrubland became, gradually, a place where we could build a shed, plant a vegetable garden and I dreamed of making it an expanse of prairie, as I had wanted to do with the entire property when we moved. Continue reading A Dream, Become Real, Become Dream

Kate is Home!

Spring                                                              Bee Hiving Moon

The home is full again.  Kate got home at 7:00 pm.  Four of us were wagging our tails and I hugged her.  She took off for the doctor yesterday and never came home until just now.

Her arm looks better, not well, but better.  Her spirits are good; though she says she’s “going to play the invalid tomorrow and Thursday.  We’ll see.  She’s not too good in that role.

We had grilled chicken, chard (from last year’s garden) and whole wheat spaghetti with olive oil and butter.  After the meal we both scratched our heads during Tree of Life.

It evoked the era of my childhood so well:  kick the can, swimming, roaming in the fields, running down alleys, getting into mischief.  I pulled back from understanding and went with the flow, the feel of things.  I liked it.  Don’t know that I’d want all the films I see to take that form, but in this case, well done.

Tomorrow.  Some errands.

Saturday

Imbolc                                   Woodpecker Moon

Did my workout last night so I have Saturday and Sunday free.  Feels very luxurious.  This short burst workout economizes time while maximizing result.  What a deal.

We had our business meeting.  Still tinkering with the budget.  We’ve got the large outline and the big expenses well in hand, now we’re looking at other areas where we spend less per transaction, where the patterns are not yet obvious.  Kate’s learning Excel and grumbling all the way about it, but I can tell she’s proud of her progress.

Kate made pumpernickel bread.  It has molasses, espresso and chocolate among other things.  Who knew?  A moist tasty bread.

I’m feeling good about the start on reimagining.  I want to get a little looser, more free-form with the words and their implications.  Over time certain things will begin to clump together.  Right now, this writing aims toward a presentation on April 1st at Groveland UU.  It is also the first essay of maybe 10-12 that will constitute Reimagining.  At least as I imagine it now.  Ha, ha.

Off to the grocery store.  Using that former exercise time for the common good.

 

Empanadas

Samain                              Moon of the Winter Solstice

Empanadas.  Kate and I came to enjoy this Latin perogi, or pasty, so we decided to make some ourselves.  This former baker did the dough while Kate made the filling and baked.  Cooking together is fun and I think we’ll do more of it as Kate eases in to full time retirement, possibly as early as March of next year.

By making more than we need we can then freeze some and have meals later from one morning’s work.

Whoa.  Ratcheted myself up about that presentation.  This happened because I agreed to do it before we left on our cruise, knowing I’d have barely a week to put it together when we got back.  It began looming as we hit Tierra del Fuego and turned north, the turn that in almost all my trips means heading home.

That meant I came home ready to cram, which I did.  After years of deadlines in college, papers and tests alike, I adopted an I’d rather get it done ahead of time attitude, so I prefer a relaxed pace, finishing something like a week before a due date.  I didn’t have that luxury this time.

The church did send me a nice e-mail a moment ago, so I feel good about that.

Since getting back from the cruise, I’ve begun a short burst training regimen.  That entails working at maximum effort for 45 seconds to a minute, I run on the treadmill at about 6.5 mph at 5% elevation right now, then getting off and doing resistance work or stretching, getting back on 4 minutes later, going full tilt boogie again, then off, until 4-5 minutes of maximum intensity have accumulated.

It’s fast and crams a lot of work into a short of period of time, plus, according to the literature I’ve read is much better than traditional workouts lasting much longer.  Even so, I also do a 50 minute low intensity treadmill workout on the off days.  I do the short burst three times a week.

Now, if I can figure out how to cut my calories in half.