...shoes that are never completely dry.
...Starbucks lines that are twice as long.
...salmon fishing.
...homemade soup for dinner.
...walking through a spider web every 10 steps.
Thank you for enduring my corny list. Now, for the higher brow folk among you, a haiku for fall in the South Sound -
Fire up the sump pump!
Rain, wind, pine needles flying
Mildew explosion
I think I may have had a little too much caffiene this morning.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
Harvest Season
It’s getting to be that time of year. The kids are back in school, the salmon are running, my tomato plants are giving one last, massive fruitful push, and, (as previously mentioned), my crafty-bug has kicked in. Autumn is far and away my favorite season, though I’ve noticed that few people seem to share my love of mellow gray days and downpours. They seem instead to want an eternal summer of clear skies and 80 degree days. I must assume that the majority of these summer people are most likely not gardeners, since most of us garden-folk are weary of the sowing/tending/harvesting cycle by this point in the year and welcome the fall weather for the slow down that it promises.
To me, there is not much in this world more satisfying than sitting down after a long day (or season’s) work and celebrating the fruits (and vegetables) of your labors. This small reward takes many forms – a cupboard full of jewel-colored jars of jam, a chest freezer filled to the gills with your own veggies, and maybe the best of all, the harvest festival – apple cider presses, kids cracking nuts with a hammer (yikes!), neighbors sharing and exchanging their garden goodies and smiles all around.
I was lucky enough to attend a neighborhood harvest party just this past weekend. The party was held by the Wendell Berry Community Garden project to celebrate a year of growing a huge assortment of beautiful, organic fruits and veggies, and in turn, donating thousands of pounds of said veggies to the Thurston County food bank. I was thoroughly inspired by their example. This is the sort of thing that drives me to get out there in my yard and rip up sod and plant in its place loads of extra vegetables, destined to be given away to those who need them the most. I am s-l-o-w-l-y getting there. Every year we add a new garden bed or two, and the previous year’s hits and misses help us decide what will work and what won’t. So, instead of being altogether calming, this particular harvest festival was actually pretty motivating. Rather than taking my ease with a latte and a good book, I am already sketching and plotting next spring’s garden.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
The Knervous Knitter
Today was the first day back to school for my kids, and most significantly, for my youngest, who is in school full time this year for the first time ever. This leaves me home alone for just over 6 hours per day. I have been looking forward to this day with increasing excitement for nearly 10 years now, and here it is, and I don’t know what to do with myself.
The girls have been away at school for roughly 5 hours now, and I have been bumping around the house like a bee in a bottle, bouncing from one task to the next. In addition to the usual household chores, in the past five hours I have –
*finished knitting a dishcloth
*started knitting yet another dishcloth
*cut & sewn a quilt top for my baby nephew
It seems that the confluence of abundant free time and the beginning of autumn have kicked my inner Martha Stewart into overdrive.
If you catch me trying to make place cards out of fallen leaves or knitting someone a holiday sweater, feel free to slap me.
The girls have been away at school for roughly 5 hours now, and I have been bumping around the house like a bee in a bottle, bouncing from one task to the next. In addition to the usual household chores, in the past five hours I have –
*finished knitting a dishcloth
*started knitting yet another dishcloth
*cut & sewn a quilt top for my baby nephew
It seems that the confluence of abundant free time and the beginning of autumn have kicked my inner Martha Stewart into overdrive.
If you catch me trying to make place cards out of fallen leaves or knitting someone a holiday sweater, feel free to slap me.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Chicken Wranglin', Part One
This past Spring, our family, as a part of our new locavore lifestyle experiment, decided to give backyard chicken keeping a try. “City chickens” have become increasingly more common over the past few years, thanks to our death-spiral economy and the resurgence of the back-to-the-land sentiment amongst granolas and granola wannabes like myself. Therefore, between the library and the internet, we discovered a wealth of information available about how to build, populate and care for our very own coop full of chickens, right here in the city.
As most folks would before bring home a new pet, my husband and I researched every possible calamity and pitfall of owning chickens – irritated neighbors, funky smells, predator raids, exotic chicken diseases, etc. – and still decided to take the plunge into chicken ownership. We were excited! After scouring the internet for a suitably predator-proof coop plan, construction began in earnest.
By mid-May, the coop was done and my husband and I were being besieged daily by our daughters with, Can we get the chicks today? Pleeeeease!, until we finally gave in and headed out for the feed store to pick us some chickens.
Hooboy, the feed store. There are few places where I have felt like a bigger poseur/idiot than I do at the feed store. While the employees there are always very nice, I can sense their amusement and maybe just a smidge of irritation with me for all of my naïve questions and aimless wandering of their aisles. Luckily, my hubby grew up in the country in a small town called Yelm, and knows how to talk the talk of the country feed store – i.e. – the g’s start falling off words like hail from a storm cloud. What type a bailin’ wire you recommend? I call it his “Yelmese”.
Strange as it is to witness, his assimilation into country culture is most effective. Especially when contrasted with his stuttering, dingbat, city slicker wife asking what she had no idea were ridiculous questions.
Awkward questions and all, at the end of the day we were 6 chickens (and their copious accessories) richer, and $100 poorer. We were officially chicken owners.
To be continued…
As most folks would before bring home a new pet, my husband and I researched every possible calamity and pitfall of owning chickens – irritated neighbors, funky smells, predator raids, exotic chicken diseases, etc. – and still decided to take the plunge into chicken ownership. We were excited! After scouring the internet for a suitably predator-proof coop plan, construction began in earnest.
By mid-May, the coop was done and my husband and I were being besieged daily by our daughters with, Can we get the chicks today? Pleeeeease!, until we finally gave in and headed out for the feed store to pick us some chickens.
Hooboy, the feed store. There are few places where I have felt like a bigger poseur/idiot than I do at the feed store. While the employees there are always very nice, I can sense their amusement and maybe just a smidge of irritation with me for all of my naïve questions and aimless wandering of their aisles. Luckily, my hubby grew up in the country in a small town called Yelm, and knows how to talk the talk of the country feed store – i.e. – the g’s start falling off words like hail from a storm cloud. What type a bailin’ wire you recommend? I call it his “Yelmese”.
Strange as it is to witness, his assimilation into country culture is most effective. Especially when contrasted with his stuttering, dingbat, city slicker wife asking what she had no idea were ridiculous questions.
Awkward questions and all, at the end of the day we were 6 chickens (and their copious accessories) richer, and $100 poorer. We were officially chicken owners.
To be continued…
Friday, September 4, 2009
Squashed!
My seemingly endless flow of zucchini has finally, sadly dwindled down to just one or two squash per week now, lately being outshined by the just-hitting-their-stride Delicata Squash.
As the Delicatas start rolling in, I am increasingly under the gun to find ways to put them to good use. It has been on my to-do list for a little while now to put my trusty-dusty Kitchenaid stand mixer and its pasta roller attachment to work, and make up a mega batch of Delicata squash ravioli. I had no illusions about the amount of time and labor that would be involved in bringing these to fruition, so I held off on starting raviolifest until I knew that the time was right.
Today was the day.
Our computer had suddenly, mysteriously died the night before (just as suddenly and mysteriously as it seems to have resurrected itself today), removing a major time-eating distraction from my day. I had to seize the opportunity.
I even had grand plans for documenting the entire process to share here. Oh, but you know what they say about the best laid plans! In keeping with my ill luck where technology is concerned, my camera unfortunately ran out of batteries midway though my ravioli making process. (And wouldn’t you just know that I am flat out of batteries, courtesy of my kids’ energy gobbling toys?) At any rate, I will still show you what I do have, and share my yummy squash ravioli recipe with you. Please keep in mind that I am not the best measurer/documenter/writer when it comes to recipes. My cooking is highly variable, depending upon what’s in the kitchen, my mood and any other number of semi-random factors, so please bear with me if this or any of my recipes contain any gaping holes, horrendous grammar or other offensive gaffes. ;)
Delicata Squash Ravioli
Filling:
3 lbs (more or less) Delicata squash
2 shallots
1 tbsp butter
1 tbsp real maple syrup
Pinch of fresh lemon thyme (or any complimentary herb, fresh or dried, to your taste)
Salt & Pepper
Egg Pasta:
4 cups unbleached white or whole wheat flour (white provides a more delicate texture)
2 whole eggs
6 egg yolks
½ tsp coarse salt
½ to 1 cup of cool (not cold) water
Starting with the filling –
First, halve lengthwise and seed the squash, drizzle with olive oil and season with fresh ground salt & pepper. Bake them for about an hour in a 375 degree oven.
Meanwhile, coarsely chop and “sweat” 2 shallots in 1 tbsp of butter over medium heat. Shallots should be slightly caramelized, but still soft in texture.
Allow both squash & shallots to cool while starting the dough.
After the filling ingredients have cooled, scoop out the squash into a large bowl. Mash well. Add the cooked shallots, maple syrup (or sweetener of your choosing), salt, pepper & thyme and mix thoroughly.
The evolution of the squash.
The dough –
(Note: I use my stand mixer for this, as it is far easier on the hands/upper body) ;)
Put 4 cups of flour into a large bowl. Make a well in the center of the flour and add eggs and salt. Mix well. Begin to add the water one tablespoon at a time until dough comes together well and has a firm, slightly sticky feel. You may not need all of the water.
If you are using a pasta roller: divide your dough into manageable pieces, (about a fistful at a time) and put through your sheet roller. (I prefer to then fold the pasta sheet in half and pass through the roller again repeatedly until I get the texture and general shape that I want.) Flour your finished dough sheets and set aside for cutting.
If you are rolling out by hand: divide your dough into quarters (or smaller), flour well and roll out as thin as you like. The thinner you can roll the dough, the more delicate the pasta will be.
Use a small cookie cutter or other “stamp” of your choice to cut your sheets of dough into the desired shape and size of your ravioli. (I used a small, square Rubbermaid container with a fine edge as my stamp – about 1¼” x 1 ¼”.)
Place ¼ to ½ tsp of filling mixture (depending on the size of your ravioli) on each of your dough cut-outs. Wet the edge of one side of the round/square of dough and fold in half. Pinch edges together to form a firm seal. Lay finished raviolis on a cookie sheet and freeze solid, then bag and label and return to the freezer. Yields are variable, but for me, this worked out to make 8 dozen ravioli.
Whew! It was a long day of slaving over a hot oven and whirring mixer, but I am relieved to be able to scratch “Make Delicata Raviolis” off of my list. However, the squash still cometh and they cometh big time. I don’t think that I have it in me to devote another whole day of my life to this particular recipe again any time soon. Sooo… does anybody need any squash?
As the Delicatas start rolling in, I am increasingly under the gun to find ways to put them to good use. It has been on my to-do list for a little while now to put my trusty-dusty Kitchenaid stand mixer and its pasta roller attachment to work, and make up a mega batch of Delicata squash ravioli. I had no illusions about the amount of time and labor that would be involved in bringing these to fruition, so I held off on starting raviolifest until I knew that the time was right.
Today was the day.
Our computer had suddenly, mysteriously died the night before (just as suddenly and mysteriously as it seems to have resurrected itself today), removing a major time-eating distraction from my day. I had to seize the opportunity.
I even had grand plans for documenting the entire process to share here. Oh, but you know what they say about the best laid plans! In keeping with my ill luck where technology is concerned, my camera unfortunately ran out of batteries midway though my ravioli making process. (And wouldn’t you just know that I am flat out of batteries, courtesy of my kids’ energy gobbling toys?) At any rate, I will still show you what I do have, and share my yummy squash ravioli recipe with you. Please keep in mind that I am not the best measurer/documenter/writer when it comes to recipes. My cooking is highly variable, depending upon what’s in the kitchen, my mood and any other number of semi-random factors, so please bear with me if this or any of my recipes contain any gaping holes, horrendous grammar or other offensive gaffes. ;)
Delicata Squash Ravioli
Filling:
3 lbs (more or less) Delicata squash
2 shallots
1 tbsp butter
1 tbsp real maple syrup
Pinch of fresh lemon thyme (or any complimentary herb, fresh or dried, to your taste)
Salt & Pepper
Egg Pasta:
4 cups unbleached white or whole wheat flour (white provides a more delicate texture)
2 whole eggs
6 egg yolks
½ tsp coarse salt
½ to 1 cup of cool (not cold) water
Starting with the filling –
First, halve lengthwise and seed the squash, drizzle with olive oil and season with fresh ground salt & pepper. Bake them for about an hour in a 375 degree oven.
Meanwhile, coarsely chop and “sweat” 2 shallots in 1 tbsp of butter over medium heat. Shallots should be slightly caramelized, but still soft in texture.
Allow both squash & shallots to cool while starting the dough.
After the filling ingredients have cooled, scoop out the squash into a large bowl. Mash well. Add the cooked shallots, maple syrup (or sweetener of your choosing), salt, pepper & thyme and mix thoroughly.
The dough –
(Note: I use my stand mixer for this, as it is far easier on the hands/upper body) ;)
Put 4 cups of flour into a large bowl. Make a well in the center of the flour and add eggs and salt. Mix well. Begin to add the water one tablespoon at a time until dough comes together well and has a firm, slightly sticky feel. You may not need all of the water.
If you are using a pasta roller: divide your dough into manageable pieces, (about a fistful at a time) and put through your sheet roller. (I prefer to then fold the pasta sheet in half and pass through the roller again repeatedly until I get the texture and general shape that I want.) Flour your finished dough sheets and set aside for cutting.
If you are rolling out by hand: divide your dough into quarters (or smaller), flour well and roll out as thin as you like. The thinner you can roll the dough, the more delicate the pasta will be.
Use a small cookie cutter or other “stamp” of your choice to cut your sheets of dough into the desired shape and size of your ravioli. (I used a small, square Rubbermaid container with a fine edge as my stamp – about 1¼” x 1 ¼”.)
Place ¼ to ½ tsp of filling mixture (depending on the size of your ravioli) on each of your dough cut-outs. Wet the edge of one side of the round/square of dough and fold in half. Pinch edges together to form a firm seal. Lay finished raviolis on a cookie sheet and freeze solid, then bag and label and return to the freezer. Yields are variable, but for me, this worked out to make 8 dozen ravioli.
Whew! It was a long day of slaving over a hot oven and whirring mixer, but I am relieved to be able to scratch “Make Delicata Raviolis” off of my list. However, the squash still cometh and they cometh big time. I don’t think that I have it in me to devote another whole day of my life to this particular recipe again any time soon. Sooo… does anybody need any squash?
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Wave 358 of the Tomato Bonanza
The tomatoes this year are as close to a bumper crop as my wee little garden can ever claim to have had. We’ve had an oddball summer here in Washington State; lots of record-breaking hot days and reasonably high humidity. This seems to be the magic combination where tomatoes are concerned, and so, to date, we’ve harvested over 30 pounds of ‘maters from our single 4x8’ raised bed – and they’re still coming.
As you can imagine, I’ve had to employ a little creativity in using all of these beautiful tomatoes. So far, I’ve made pasta sauce, fresh salsa, pizza sauce, dehydrator
“sundried” tomatoes and about a million salads. For those of you also lucky enough to have a tomato surplus this year, I offer the first of what is likely to be a tidal wave of tomato-gobbling recipes.
Chelle’s Pizza Sauce
(Adapted from a recipe at MyKitchenGarden.)
*4-5 lbs blanched, peeled, cored & seeded cooking tomatoes
*4 cloves of garlic, pressed or minced (feel free to use more if you like it zesty)
*Assorted herbs to taste – I used a few pinches of each of fresh rosemary, oregano, basil and lemon thyme, all chopped.
*Salt & Pepper
*Splash of red wine
*Splash of good balsamic vinegar
*One or two tablespoons of organic sugar
*Tablespoon of olive oil
Roughly chop the tomatoes and stew them and all of the remaining ingredients in a pot over medium heat, stirring occasionally for at least an hour, or until the flavors begin to blend and the tomatoes start to break down. If you like your sauce on the chunky side, then it is done! If you prefer a more uniform consistency, use either an immersion blender
or standard blender to puree your sauce to your liking. This recipe yields about 6 cups of sauce, about 3 or 4 pizzas worth. ;)
As you can imagine, I’ve had to employ a little creativity in using all of these beautiful tomatoes. So far, I’ve made pasta sauce, fresh salsa, pizza sauce, dehydrator
“sundried” tomatoes and about a million salads. For those of you also lucky enough to have a tomato surplus this year, I offer the first of what is likely to be a tidal wave of tomato-gobbling recipes.Chelle’s Pizza Sauce
(Adapted from a recipe at MyKitchenGarden.)
*4-5 lbs blanched, peeled, cored & seeded cooking tomatoes
*4 cloves of garlic, pressed or minced (feel free to use more if you like it zesty)
*Assorted herbs to taste – I used a few pinches of each of fresh rosemary, oregano, basil and lemon thyme, all chopped.
*Salt & Pepper
*Splash of red wine
*Splash of good balsamic vinegar
*One or two tablespoons of organic sugar
*Tablespoon of olive oil
Roughly chop the tomatoes and stew them and all of the remaining ingredients in a pot over medium heat, stirring occasionally for at least an hour, or until the flavors begin to blend and the tomatoes start to break down. If you like your sauce on the chunky side, then it is done! If you prefer a more uniform consistency, use either an immersion blender
or standard blender to puree your sauce to your liking. This recipe yields about 6 cups of sauce, about 3 or 4 pizzas worth. ;)
Sunday, August 30, 2009
"You're being like a squirrel!"
As I have mentioned in previous posts, I am currently in the grip of what might be fairly called a harvest mania.
Besides some of the great books that I have read on the importance of good food and living sustainably, and a natural inclination to take advantage of Mother nature’s offerings (free is good!), I am very lucky to have several like-minded friends who have abetted and otherwise encouraged my grow it/pick it/freeze it/can it frenzy this year.
I guess I should have noticed the warning signs that I was spinning a little out of control when I would post to my Facebook page “Going back to the blueberry patch today!” and my friends would playfully harass – You’re obsessed! You’re addicted! Out of control! Maybe when I nearly put my shoulder out of joint grinding tomatoes, or, when I began obsessively scouring Craigs List on a daily basis in the hunt for an affordable chest freezer… I probably should have realized that things were getting a little nuts.
As it was, it wasn’t until I was weighing, measuring and preparing for freezing yet another small mountain of zucchini that I was brought up short by my 9 year-old.
O: “Mama?”
M: “Yes?”
O: “You’re collecting a lot of food for the winter. You’re kind of being like a squirrel.”
It wasn’t an accusation; it was most certainly a fact. She was trying to let me know, in as gentle a way as she knew how, that I needed to put the zucchini down and back away slowly.
Since our little chat, I have tried to take it down a notch. I scrapped the spaghetti sauce canning and opted for bagging and freezing it. I have completely stopped my jam-a-thon – for now, and I’ve been giving away increasing amounts of tomatoes to friends and neighbors instead of trying to consume, dehydrate or can every last one by myself. The first step to recovery is admitting that you have a problem. Therefore I say with a mixture of pride and shame: I, Michelle, am being like a squirrel.
Besides some of the great books that I have read on the importance of good food and living sustainably, and a natural inclination to take advantage of Mother nature’s offerings (free is good!), I am very lucky to have several like-minded friends who have abetted and otherwise encouraged my grow it/pick it/freeze it/can it frenzy this year.
I guess I should have noticed the warning signs that I was spinning a little out of control when I would post to my Facebook page “Going back to the blueberry patch today!” and my friends would playfully harass – You’re obsessed! You’re addicted! Out of control! Maybe when I nearly put my shoulder out of joint grinding tomatoes, or, when I began obsessively scouring Craigs List on a daily basis in the hunt for an affordable chest freezer… I probably should have realized that things were getting a little nuts.
As it was, it wasn’t until I was weighing, measuring and preparing for freezing yet another small mountain of zucchini that I was brought up short by my 9 year-old.
O: “Mama?”
M: “Yes?”
O: “You’re collecting a lot of food for the winter. You’re kind of being like a squirrel.”
It wasn’t an accusation; it was most certainly a fact. She was trying to let me know, in as gentle a way as she knew how, that I needed to put the zucchini down and back away slowly.
Since our little chat, I have tried to take it down a notch. I scrapped the spaghetti sauce canning and opted for bagging and freezing it. I have completely stopped my jam-a-thon – for now, and I’ve been giving away increasing amounts of tomatoes to friends and neighbors instead of trying to consume, dehydrate or can every last one by myself. The first step to recovery is admitting that you have a problem. Therefore I say with a mixture of pride and shame: I, Michelle, am being like a squirrel.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)