Fried potatoes with fennel
1/2 to 1 bulb fennel, to taste
a handful of potatoes (i.e. as many potatoes as you care to hold in one hand -- one big one, two medium ones, several small ones)
butter or oil for cooking
a little salt and plenty of pepper
Remove stalks and fronds from the fennel (save them for your next fish bake or some other use); separate the bulb into ribs, trim, and wash. Slice across the ribs, rather like chopping celery, to make strips no more than 1/4 inch wide (that is, the pieces should be the width of the fennel rib by about 1/8 to 1/4 inch); set aside. Scrub or peel the potatoes, depending on their age and your preference, and slice them no more than 1/4 inch thick. If desired, cut cross-wise into french-fry-like sticks, but they can also be cooked as disks or half disks. Get the potatoes cooking over moderate heat in the butter or oil, season, and add the fennel strips. Spread out the pieces as much as possible so they get a chance to brown, especially the potatoes, and turn them frequently until done and lightly browned in many places. Serves one as a meal, 2-3 as a side dish.
The rest of the story
Last weekend I helped harvest potatoes for the food bank, getting covered with dirt in the process and pulling a few muscles. I love digging potatoes -- well, technically someone else did the actual digging, I got to crawl around in the dirt collecting them as the shovel exposed them.
Digging potatoes is a bit like hunting for buried treasure, only the result is more certain. Or maybe more like a subterranean Easter egg hunt; in any case, I had a couple of hours of fun and the food bank got crates of lovely red-skinned potatoes. So I thought I'd post a nice simple recipe.
There should still be fennel available; if not, you can always bake them in cream instead.
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
18 September, 2018
11 September, 2018
Nectarines
native to: probably China
in season in the Puget Sound region: July-August
Contrary to rumor, nectarines are not a hybrid of peaches and plums. Their scientific name is Prunus persica var. nucipersica or nectarina, meaning that taxonomists consider them a variety or breed of peach. They're a member of the Rosaceae family, related to plums, almonds, and damsons. Their flesh can be golden yellow or creamy white. As with many fruits and vegetables, white nectarines are generally sweeter while yellow-fleshed ones have more flavor. Most of the nectarines you'll find for sale are clingstones, meaning the flesh does not readily separate from the pit, but freestone varieties do exist. Nectarine trees require a cold winter to stimulate blossom production.
Nectarines originated in China at least a millennium ago and spread to Persia (hence the "persica" in their scientific name), then to Greece and Rome. The reached Great Britain around 1600 and were brought to the Americas by the Spanish.
Nectarines are rich in vitamins A, several Bs, C, E, K and also provide minerals and electrolytes such as potassium, phosphorous, magnesium, iron, zinc, copper, and calcium. They have antioxidants like polyphenols and carotenoids such as beta-carotene and cryptoxanthin, and their fiber is good for digestion. They also contain anthocyanins, catechin, chlorogenic acid, and quercetin derivatives, which combat obesity-related problems, and their vitamin C aids in the absorption of iron, helping fight anemia. Their lutein and beta-carotene are good for the eyes, while their vitamin C, zinc, and phenolic compounds support the immune system. Nectarines are even good for the skin, providing bioflavonoids and anti-oxidants that protect against damage from UV exposure (making their availability in July and August particularly appropriate).
Nectarine allergies are rare, but nectarine pits should not be eaten -- they contain substances that can metabolize into cyanide and sicken or kill someone who eats too many.
Read more:
label-style nutrition information
Spoon University
Nutrition and You
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
in season in the Puget Sound region: July-August
Contrary to rumor, nectarines are not a hybrid of peaches and plums. Their scientific name is Prunus persica var. nucipersica or nectarina, meaning that taxonomists consider them a variety or breed of peach. They're a member of the Rosaceae family, related to plums, almonds, and damsons. Their flesh can be golden yellow or creamy white. As with many fruits and vegetables, white nectarines are generally sweeter while yellow-fleshed ones have more flavor. Most of the nectarines you'll find for sale are clingstones, meaning the flesh does not readily separate from the pit, but freestone varieties do exist. Nectarine trees require a cold winter to stimulate blossom production.
Nectarines originated in China at least a millennium ago and spread to Persia (hence the "persica" in their scientific name), then to Greece and Rome. The reached Great Britain around 1600 and were brought to the Americas by the Spanish.
Nectarines are rich in vitamins A, several Bs, C, E, K and also provide minerals and electrolytes such as potassium, phosphorous, magnesium, iron, zinc, copper, and calcium. They have antioxidants like polyphenols and carotenoids such as beta-carotene and cryptoxanthin, and their fiber is good for digestion. They also contain anthocyanins, catechin, chlorogenic acid, and quercetin derivatives, which combat obesity-related problems, and their vitamin C aids in the absorption of iron, helping fight anemia. Their lutein and beta-carotene are good for the eyes, while their vitamin C, zinc, and phenolic compounds support the immune system. Nectarines are even good for the skin, providing bioflavonoids and anti-oxidants that protect against damage from UV exposure (making their availability in July and August particularly appropriate).
Nectarine allergies are rare, but nectarine pits should not be eaten -- they contain substances that can metabolize into cyanide and sicken or kill someone who eats too many.
Read more:
label-style nutrition information
Spoon University
Nutrition and You
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
01 September, 2018
Mammy's banana cake
1 c sugar
2/3 c butter
2 eggs
1 1/2 c flour
1 tsp. baking soda
4 ripe bananas
1/2 c chopped nuts (optional)
Mix in the usual fashion for a cake*. Bake in an 8- or 9-inch square pan at 350F for 35-40 min.
The rest of the story
This recipe originally came from my mother's "Mammy" (grandmother), who would have been cooking for children in the early 20th century in, approximately, Arkansas. Mom would have eaten this in the 1930s-1940s. I'm not sure which grandmother "Mammy" was -- 50% chance it was the one on whose farm my mother grew up during the Depression as part of a multi-generational extended family -- but I do remember my mother's delight at getting her hands on this recipe. We made it together within the week.
Then I misplaced it. I'd been looking for it for awhile now, because I was pretty sure I'd had it at some point. I particularly wanted it because the food bank almost always has bananas, but they're often very ripe and/or badly bruised (bananas bruise incredibly easily) -- perfect for banana bread (meh) or Mammy's banana cake! So now I'm almost as delighted as Mom was to have it again. Even if it did mean going through an entire file box of old printouts and photocopies.
As a side note, my family seems to have a tradition of losing and rediscovering grandmothers' recipes, and I am extremely grateful for the rediscovery part of that. And... let's see, my soapbox has to be around here somewhere... Labor Day weekend is coming up, a nice three-day with few socially-mandated activities connected to it; why not take this time to gather your favorite recipes from any remaining parents, grandparents, or even great-grandparents? And if you're a parent/grandparent/great-grandparent, why not gather up your descendants' favorite recipes into a notebook or (well backed-up) computer file as a first-apartment-warming gift? Your descendant is only six? Well, put it somewhere safe until it's wanted, but write 'em out now; your survival is not guaranteed. Your descendants are already on their second mortgage? Well then, it's about time they had their culinary birthright!
*There are about three different ways to mix cake batter, depending on the age of the recipe. When I make this cake, I just go with the given order of ingredients: cream the butter, sugar, and eggs, add the flour and baking soda, then the bananas and nuts. I need to do more research on this topic; I vaguely remember reading about a "new" method of mixing cake batter that appeared in the mid-20th century and made the process much easier, but recall none of the details (how frustrating).
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
2/3 c butter
2 eggs
1 1/2 c flour
1 tsp. baking soda
4 ripe bananas
1/2 c chopped nuts (optional)
Mix in the usual fashion for a cake*. Bake in an 8- or 9-inch square pan at 350F for 35-40 min.
The rest of the story
This recipe originally came from my mother's "Mammy" (grandmother), who would have been cooking for children in the early 20th century in, approximately, Arkansas. Mom would have eaten this in the 1930s-1940s. I'm not sure which grandmother "Mammy" was -- 50% chance it was the one on whose farm my mother grew up during the Depression as part of a multi-generational extended family -- but I do remember my mother's delight at getting her hands on this recipe. We made it together within the week.
Then I misplaced it. I'd been looking for it for awhile now, because I was pretty sure I'd had it at some point. I particularly wanted it because the food bank almost always has bananas, but they're often very ripe and/or badly bruised (bananas bruise incredibly easily) -- perfect for banana bread (meh) or Mammy's banana cake! So now I'm almost as delighted as Mom was to have it again. Even if it did mean going through an entire file box of old printouts and photocopies.
As a side note, my family seems to have a tradition of losing and rediscovering grandmothers' recipes, and I am extremely grateful for the rediscovery part of that. And... let's see, my soapbox has to be around here somewhere... Labor Day weekend is coming up, a nice three-day with few socially-mandated activities connected to it; why not take this time to gather your favorite recipes from any remaining parents, grandparents, or even great-grandparents? And if you're a parent/grandparent/great-grandparent, why not gather up your descendants' favorite recipes into a notebook or (well backed-up) computer file as a first-apartment-warming gift? Your descendant is only six? Well, put it somewhere safe until it's wanted, but write 'em out now; your survival is not guaranteed. Your descendants are already on their second mortgage? Well then, it's about time they had their culinary birthright!
*There are about three different ways to mix cake batter, depending on the age of the recipe. When I make this cake, I just go with the given order of ingredients: cream the butter, sugar, and eggs, add the flour and baking soda, then the bananas and nuts. I need to do more research on this topic; I vaguely remember reading about a "new" method of mixing cake batter that appeared in the mid-20th century and made the process much easier, but recall none of the details (how frustrating).
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
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