8 yellow onions, about 2 in. dia. (2 lb. total), peeled
4 Tbsp. butter, divided
salt to taste
1/3 cup uncooked long-grain rice
1 2/3 cups chicken or vegetable broth, divided
2 Tbsp. grated Swiss or Gruyere cheese
4 Tbsp. grated Parmesan cheese, divided
white pepper to taste
Cut only a thin slice from the bottom of each onion. Remove, chop, and set aside the onion centers, leaving a 1/4-inch-thick shell. Be careful not to cut through the bottoms of the onion shells; plug any torn area of bottoms with a piece from the centers. Blanch onion shells in salted water ca. 7 min. until crisp-tender. Gently drain and rinse with cold water; set open ends down and let drain well. Sprinkle 1 1/2 cups of the chopped onion centers with salt and saute in 2 Tbsp. butter until soft and beginning to color, about 20 min. Stir in rice; after about 2 min., add 1 cup broth. Bring to a boil, cover tightly, and simmer until rice is tender, about 30 min. Remove from heat and stir in Swiss/Gruyere and 2 Tbsp. Parmesan. Adjust seasonings and fill onion shells, mounding slightly. Place in a shallow baking pan and sprinkle with remaining Parmesan. Place 2 Tbsp. butter and 2/3 cup broth around the onions and tent with foil. Bake 25 min. at 375F, then raise heat to 400F and remove the foil. Bake about 20 min. longer, basting frequently with pan juices, until tender and golden.
Adapted from: From the farmers' market : wonderful things to do with fresh-from-the-farm food with recipes and recollections from farm kitchens / Richard Sax with Sandra Gluck. Harper & Row, c1986.
This is another of those posts I prepared for the Tumwater Farmers' Market blog before it switched editors. There are several of these, which will appear this winter when I'm feeling particularly cold and uninspired.
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
13 January, 2019
21 December, 2018
Cranberry season again
While searching through my recipes for how long to process the cranberry sauce I was canning, I came across these interesting recipes from 1921. Since the food bank often has fruit toward the end of its season, I decided to go ahead and share them. Enjoy!
Cranberry Butter
three pints cranberries
1/2 cup water
2 cups sugar (or 2 cups white corn syrup)
Cook the cranberries and water until the skins of the fruit are broken, then press thru a sieve. Cook this pulp until it becomes quite thick, add the sugar (or syrup, if you use it) and cook for 1/2 hour over a very gentle fire, stirring constantly. When slightly cool, turn into jars and cover closely. This makes a delicious and healthful spread on hot biscuits, bread, buttered toast or cake.
Cranberry pie
Have ready a partly baked pastry shell. When cold, pour in filling made from cranberry sauce recipes; put strips of pastry over top and finish baking in a moderate oven.
Cranberry Mock Mince-Meat
2 lbs. chopped apples
3 1/2 cups sugar
1/2 cup chopped citron
1 1/2 cups cranberry sauce
1/2 cup vinegar
1 1/2 cups chopped raisins
1/4 teaspoon each of cloves and cinnamon
1/2 cup water
4 tablespoons lemon juice
Put all ingredients into a kettle and cook slowly until thick.
Cranberry Mince-Meat
To the above recipe [i.e. Cranberry Mock Mince-Meat] add:
1 1/2 cups cooked beef hearts put through a meat chopper
1/2 cup stock in which hearts were cooked
From: Cranberries : twenty-five ways of preparing for table / Leila W. Hunt. Extension Service, State College of Washington, Nov. 1921 (Bulletin No. 76).
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
Cranberry Butter
three pints cranberries
1/2 cup water
2 cups sugar (or 2 cups white corn syrup)
Cook the cranberries and water until the skins of the fruit are broken, then press thru a sieve. Cook this pulp until it becomes quite thick, add the sugar (or syrup, if you use it) and cook for 1/2 hour over a very gentle fire, stirring constantly. When slightly cool, turn into jars and cover closely. This makes a delicious and healthful spread on hot biscuits, bread, buttered toast or cake.
Cranberry pie
Have ready a partly baked pastry shell. When cold, pour in filling made from cranberry sauce recipes; put strips of pastry over top and finish baking in a moderate oven.
Cranberry Mock Mince-Meat
2 lbs. chopped apples
3 1/2 cups sugar
1/2 cup chopped citron
1 1/2 cups cranberry sauce
1/2 cup vinegar
1 1/2 cups chopped raisins
1/4 teaspoon each of cloves and cinnamon
1/2 cup water
4 tablespoons lemon juice
Put all ingredients into a kettle and cook slowly until thick.
Cranberry Mince-Meat
To the above recipe [i.e. Cranberry Mock Mince-Meat] add:
1 1/2 cups cooked beef hearts put through a meat chopper
1/2 cup stock in which hearts were cooked
From: Cranberries : twenty-five ways of preparing for table / Leila W. Hunt. Extension Service, State College of Washington, Nov. 1921 (Bulletin No. 76).
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
11 December, 2018
Butternut squash and apple soup
2 Tbsp. butter
1 cup chopped yellow onion
1/2 cup sliced celery stalks and leaves
1 large butternut squash, peeled and cubed
1 small cooking apple (such as Jonagold or Granny Smith), peeled, cored, and cut into chunks
6 cups chicken stock or water
2 cinnamon sticks
6 whole cloves
6 allspice berries
garnish:
chopped fresh chives
sour cream
Cook onion and celery in butter over medium-high heat until softened, about 5 minutes. Place the squash and apple in a slow cooker; add onion mixture and stock. Cover and cook on low about 5 1/5 hours, until squash and apple are tender. Grind spices in a mortar or spice grinder; add to soup and cook another half hour. With an immersion blender or, working in batches, in a regular blender, puree the soup until smooth. Reheat if needed.
Adapted from: The gourmet slow cooker, vol. II : regional comfort-food classics / Lynn Alley. Ten Speed Press, 2006. 9781580087322
This is another of those posts I prepared for the Tumwater Farmers' Market blog before it switched editors. There are several of these, which will appear this winter when I'm feeling particularly cold and uninspired.
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
1 cup chopped yellow onion
1/2 cup sliced celery stalks and leaves
1 large butternut squash, peeled and cubed
1 small cooking apple (such as Jonagold or Granny Smith), peeled, cored, and cut into chunks
6 cups chicken stock or water
2 cinnamon sticks
6 whole cloves
6 allspice berries
garnish:
chopped fresh chives
sour cream
Cook onion and celery in butter over medium-high heat until softened, about 5 minutes. Place the squash and apple in a slow cooker; add onion mixture and stock. Cover and cook on low about 5 1/5 hours, until squash and apple are tender. Grind spices in a mortar or spice grinder; add to soup and cook another half hour. With an immersion blender or, working in batches, in a regular blender, puree the soup until smooth. Reheat if needed.
Adapted from: The gourmet slow cooker, vol. II : regional comfort-food classics / Lynn Alley. Ten Speed Press, 2006. 9781580087322
This is another of those posts I prepared for the Tumwater Farmers' Market blog before it switched editors. There are several of these, which will appear this winter when I'm feeling particularly cold and uninspired.
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
18 November, 2018
Turkish Delight (Lokoum)
2 1/2 cups water
4 cups sugar
1 cup cornstarch
3/4 cup fruit juice*, whatever flavor you like (grape juice, orange juice, etc.)
1 tsp cream of tartar
a few drops of food coloring (optional)
toasted chopped nuts (optional)
oil for coating pan
powdered sugar for coating
Bring water to a boil; stir in sugar until thoroughly dissolved. Mix cornstarch with juice and cream of tartar, stirring to remove any lumps. Gradually stir into boiling syrup. Continue cooking, stirring frequently, 20 min or to 220F. Add food coloring and nuts if desired. Pour into an oiled 7" square cake pan and let stand until set and cooled. Cut into 1" squares and dust with powdered sugar (one method is to shake a few squares at a time in a plastic bag filled with powdered sugar).
*Make sure you've got 100% juice, preferably unsweetened; juice drinks can be as much as 90% sugar water and what you're really after here is the flavor, you'll be adding plenty of sugar yourself.
Adapted from something called Eastern Mediterranean Cooking; sorry, I didn't record the full citation.
So,
a few weeks ago I was standing in line, waiting my turn at... let's call it "the miscellaneous station" at the food bank, where they give out oddball items like crackers, pop, salad dressing, or that awfu... I mean, ahem, that interesting "baconesque" popcorn. I could see around the couple of people in front of me, in a basket of assorted strange things, a box of Aplets and Cotlets. Yum! But there was only one box, would one of the people in front of me snag it? The first one chose coffee; bleh, but OK, that's popular. Good. The next one chose... chiles en adobo? Really, canned peppers over Aplets and Cotlets? Well, no accounting for taste and all that, and my gain, but really? Of course, once I got it home I saw that it was a little over a year past its pull date, but it was still perfectly good, only a little dried out at the edges.
Then I remembered I'd once copied off a recipe for lokoum, the original sweet that inspired Aplets and Cotlets, so I dug it out to share.
My grandmother (the southern matriarch one, not the butterboo one) lived in Cashmere for many years, and when I was about in my "tweens" she took me on the Aplets and Cotlets factory tour. In those days they only made the two products, and their factory was a smallish place in the middle of town; I'm sure they've grown and probably moved since then. They've certainly added more products. The thing is, that tour was one of the first times I was conscious of a product being local and localness being significant. Of course, at the time I thought it was a national brand and was impressed; now I think it's even cooler that it's a special regional delicacy.
And yes, I know some people think it's inedible. Some people like nasty things like coffee and blueberries and cream cheese frosting, so we'll all just have to agree to disagree and rejoice in our diversity. Anything else would be boring.
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
4 cups sugar
1 cup cornstarch
3/4 cup fruit juice*, whatever flavor you like (grape juice, orange juice, etc.)
1 tsp cream of tartar
a few drops of food coloring (optional)
toasted chopped nuts (optional)
oil for coating pan
powdered sugar for coating
Bring water to a boil; stir in sugar until thoroughly dissolved. Mix cornstarch with juice and cream of tartar, stirring to remove any lumps. Gradually stir into boiling syrup. Continue cooking, stirring frequently, 20 min or to 220F. Add food coloring and nuts if desired. Pour into an oiled 7" square cake pan and let stand until set and cooled. Cut into 1" squares and dust with powdered sugar (one method is to shake a few squares at a time in a plastic bag filled with powdered sugar).
*Make sure you've got 100% juice, preferably unsweetened; juice drinks can be as much as 90% sugar water and what you're really after here is the flavor, you'll be adding plenty of sugar yourself.
Adapted from something called Eastern Mediterranean Cooking; sorry, I didn't record the full citation.
So,
a few weeks ago I was standing in line, waiting my turn at... let's call it "the miscellaneous station" at the food bank, where they give out oddball items like crackers, pop, salad dressing, or that awfu... I mean, ahem, that interesting "baconesque" popcorn. I could see around the couple of people in front of me, in a basket of assorted strange things, a box of Aplets and Cotlets. Yum! But there was only one box, would one of the people in front of me snag it? The first one chose coffee; bleh, but OK, that's popular. Good. The next one chose... chiles en adobo? Really, canned peppers over Aplets and Cotlets? Well, no accounting for taste and all that, and my gain, but really? Of course, once I got it home I saw that it was a little over a year past its pull date, but it was still perfectly good, only a little dried out at the edges.
Then I remembered I'd once copied off a recipe for lokoum, the original sweet that inspired Aplets and Cotlets, so I dug it out to share.
My grandmother (the southern matriarch one, not the butterboo one) lived in Cashmere for many years, and when I was about in my "tweens" she took me on the Aplets and Cotlets factory tour. In those days they only made the two products, and their factory was a smallish place in the middle of town; I'm sure they've grown and probably moved since then. They've certainly added more products. The thing is, that tour was one of the first times I was conscious of a product being local and localness being significant. Of course, at the time I thought it was a national brand and was impressed; now I think it's even cooler that it's a special regional delicacy.
And yes, I know some people think it's inedible. Some people like nasty things like coffee and blueberries and cream cheese frosting, so we'll all just have to agree to disagree and rejoice in our diversity. Anything else would be boring.
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
16 October, 2018
Sesame noodles with broccoli
8 oz. whole wheat spaghetti, cooked, drained but not cooled
5 cups broccoli florets, lightly blanched, drained but not cooled
2 cups matchsticked carrots
3/4 cup thinly sliced green onions
1/3 cup chopped fresh cilantro
3 Tbsp. toasted sesame seeds
Sauce:
2 Tbsp. tahini
2 Tbsp. water
2 Tbsp. rice wine vinegar
2 Tbsp. soy sauce
1 1/2 Tbsp. dark sesame oil
2 tsp. honey
1/2 tsp. grated fresh ginger
1/2 tsp. chili paste with garlic (sambal oelek)
2 cloves garlic, minced
Combine noodles and broccoli; sprinkle with remaining ingredients. Whisk sauce ingredients together in a small bowl. Drizzle over noodles and toss to coat.
Adapted from: Cooking light, Apr. 2007
I prepared this post for the Tumwater Farmers' Market blog before it switched editors. There are several of these, which will appear this winter when I'm feeling particularly cold and uninspired.
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
5 cups broccoli florets, lightly blanched, drained but not cooled
2 cups matchsticked carrots
3/4 cup thinly sliced green onions
1/3 cup chopped fresh cilantro
3 Tbsp. toasted sesame seeds
Sauce:
2 Tbsp. tahini
2 Tbsp. water
2 Tbsp. rice wine vinegar
2 Tbsp. soy sauce
1 1/2 Tbsp. dark sesame oil
2 tsp. honey
1/2 tsp. grated fresh ginger
1/2 tsp. chili paste with garlic (sambal oelek)
2 cloves garlic, minced
Combine noodles and broccoli; sprinkle with remaining ingredients. Whisk sauce ingredients together in a small bowl. Drizzle over noodles and toss to coat.
Adapted from: Cooking light, Apr. 2007
I prepared this post for the Tumwater Farmers' Market blog before it switched editors. There are several of these, which will appear this winter when I'm feeling particularly cold and uninspired.
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
01 October, 2018
Prawn and Galia Melon Salad
1 small galia melon, seeded, rind removed and flesh chopped or flesh removed with a melon baller
about 3 1/2 oz. cooked and peeled prawns
scant 2 1/2 Tbsp finely chopped fresh mint leaves
scant 1 1/4 Tbsp olive oil
scant 2 1/2 lemon juice
scant 1 1/4 tsp wholegrain mustard
Mix ingredients and season. Serve in melon rind halves if desired.
Adapted from Recipes Plus
I haven't tried this one yet -- it's been a bad summer for melons here -- but it sounds intriguing.
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
about 3 1/2 oz. cooked and peeled prawns
scant 2 1/2 Tbsp finely chopped fresh mint leaves
scant 1 1/4 Tbsp olive oil
scant 2 1/2 lemon juice
scant 1 1/4 tsp wholegrain mustard
Mix ingredients and season. Serve in melon rind halves if desired.
Adapted from Recipes Plus
I haven't tried this one yet -- it's been a bad summer for melons here -- but it sounds intriguing.
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
18 September, 2018
Potato harvest time
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.
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.
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.
18 August, 2018
Using those blackberries
Cold-Process Blackberry Shrub
5 cups blackberries, gently rinsed
4 cups sugar
4 cups balsamic vinegar
Combine blackberries and sugar, stirring to produce some juice and coat berries. Cover and chill for 24 hours. Strain out the berries, gently pressing out any remaining juice. whisk in the vinegar, stirring until most of the sugar dissolves. Pour into a clean glass bottle and chill for 4 weeks before using.
Notes:
The original recipe called for red wine vinegar. I checked at the store, and what they had was the same acidity as the balsamic I used, 6%, so the result should be much the same (I'm just not that fond of the whole spoiled grape thing).
In my attempt, most of the sugar settled to the bottom of the berry glop, so at the very least you should probably give the berries a good stir before straining them.
I used my usual pseudo jelly bag technique like I did last year making blackberry juice concentrate, letting it drip all evening.
Next time I think I'll try mixing some of the vinegar into the berries before straining them to see if I can dissolve more of the sugar. My result seems sweet enough (before aging), so possibly some of the sugar is supposed to be filtered out with the berries. More experimentation is definitely called for!
Adapted from Port and Fin
So in a month or so, I'll be ready to try:
Blackberry-rum shrub
4 Tbsp. dark rum
1 Tbsp. blackberry shrub syrup
club soda to taste
Combine ingredients and serve over ice.
Adapted from Saveur
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
5 cups blackberries, gently rinsed
4 cups sugar
4 cups balsamic vinegar
Combine blackberries and sugar, stirring to produce some juice and coat berries. Cover and chill for 24 hours. Strain out the berries, gently pressing out any remaining juice. whisk in the vinegar, stirring until most of the sugar dissolves. Pour into a clean glass bottle and chill for 4 weeks before using.
Notes:
The original recipe called for red wine vinegar. I checked at the store, and what they had was the same acidity as the balsamic I used, 6%, so the result should be much the same (I'm just not that fond of the whole spoiled grape thing).
In my attempt, most of the sugar settled to the bottom of the berry glop, so at the very least you should probably give the berries a good stir before straining them.
I used my usual pseudo jelly bag technique like I did last year making blackberry juice concentrate, letting it drip all evening.
Next time I think I'll try mixing some of the vinegar into the berries before straining them to see if I can dissolve more of the sugar. My result seems sweet enough (before aging), so possibly some of the sugar is supposed to be filtered out with the berries. More experimentation is definitely called for!
Adapted from Port and Fin
So in a month or so, I'll be ready to try:
Blackberry-rum shrub
4 Tbsp. dark rum
1 Tbsp. blackberry shrub syrup
club soda to taste
Combine ingredients and serve over ice.
Adapted from Saveur
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
15 August, 2018
Blackberry foraging
It's blackberry season again! Blackberries are a sort of "gateway food" for foragers, being familiar, easy to recognize, and fairly available even without driving somewhere and hiking five miles into the wilderness. So, here for your consideration are my personal foraging guidelines:
Practice gratitude
Thank the plants and/or your preferred deity, or just take a moment to contemplate the marvel of bio-machines that convert earth, water, and sunlight into food. If you're setting out to collect a lot of berries, why not take the plants a little gift, like some water or weak worm/compost tea? Yes, the plants won't really understand what you're doing, it's all symbolic, but there are some indications that plants can sense our emotions or intentions, and anyway being nice to other living things is a good habit to get into.
Share
Take what you'll use, but don't pick too closely -- that is, leave the berries that will be at their peak tomorrow -- and try to leave some for the next forager (human or not). If you're young and athletic (or even just not all that ancient and reasonably vigorous) why not leave the easy-to-reach stuff for casual nibblers and the less agile? If you end up with more than you want, offer some to friends and neighbors or run it down to the Food Bank.
Especially, remember that humans aren't the only berry-lovers around, so if your patch is anywhere there might be wildlife, plan accordingly. Bears are particularly fond of berries, so go into the woods with plenty of friends and make some noise so other critters will know you're there and try to avoid you.
Expect scratches
Respect the plants, try not to trample or break more than absolutely necessary, and don't go berrying the day before you want to look stunning in a sun dress or show off your carefully cultivated muscles at the beach. Wear heavy clothes and plan to sweat, or dress more lightly and plan to bleed (no, that's not a threat; I personally always choose the second option and come home all scratched up -- but I have cats so I'm used to a certain amount of that anyway).
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
Practice gratitude
Thank the plants and/or your preferred deity, or just take a moment to contemplate the marvel of bio-machines that convert earth, water, and sunlight into food. If you're setting out to collect a lot of berries, why not take the plants a little gift, like some water or weak worm/compost tea? Yes, the plants won't really understand what you're doing, it's all symbolic, but there are some indications that plants can sense our emotions or intentions, and anyway being nice to other living things is a good habit to get into.
Share
Take what you'll use, but don't pick too closely -- that is, leave the berries that will be at their peak tomorrow -- and try to leave some for the next forager (human or not). If you're young and athletic (or even just not all that ancient and reasonably vigorous) why not leave the easy-to-reach stuff for casual nibblers and the less agile? If you end up with more than you want, offer some to friends and neighbors or run it down to the Food Bank.
Especially, remember that humans aren't the only berry-lovers around, so if your patch is anywhere there might be wildlife, plan accordingly. Bears are particularly fond of berries, so go into the woods with plenty of friends and make some noise so other critters will know you're there and try to avoid you.
Expect scratches
Respect the plants, try not to trample or break more than absolutely necessary, and don't go berrying the day before you want to look stunning in a sun dress or show off your carefully cultivated muscles at the beach. Wear heavy clothes and plan to sweat, or dress more lightly and plan to bleed (no, that's not a threat; I personally always choose the second option and come home all scratched up -- but I have cats so I'm used to a certain amount of that anyway).
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
11 August, 2018
(Red) amaranth leaves
Red Amaranth with Garlic and Oyster Sauce
1 bunch red amaranth, washed, shaken dry, picked over, and larger stems removed
2 Tbsp. cooking oil
1 clove garlic, crushed
2 Tbsp. oyster sauce
2 tsp. sugar
2 tsp. cornstarch mixed with 2 Tbsp. cold water
Chop amaranth leaves and small stems into bite-sized pieces. Heat oil and gently cook, stirring, until it begins to color. Add amaranth, increase heat to medium, and toss until wilted. Add oyster sauce and sugar, cover, and steam for a minute or two. Stir in cornstarch mixture and allow to boil until it thickens.
Spicy Amaranth
2 Tbsp. vegetable oil
1 clove garlic, minced or crushed
1 tsp. minced fresh ginger
1 small jalapeno pepper, seeded and minced
1 tsp. ground cumin
1/2 tsp. ground coriander
1/2 tsp. ground cloves
1/2 tsp. ground cardamom
1 lb. red amaranth leaves, washed, larger stems removed, torn as needed
1 tsp. salt, or to taste
1 Tbsp. lime juice
2 Tbsp. water
Heat oil, add the garlic, ginger, and jalapeno; toss for about 10 seconds. Stir in remaining spices and briefly continue cooking. Add amaranth leaves, salt, lime juice, and water. Stir-fry until the amaranth starts to wilt.
Adapted from Seasonal Chef
The long, chatty bit
native to: South America, probably Peru
in season in the Puget Sound region: August
I saw these at the
Olympia Farmers' Market (Piece by Piece Farm of food bank CSA fame had them, just lying there beside the lettuces) and they were so beautiful I just had to try them. And photograph them; they've motivated me to get back into putting photos in my posts.
It's been awhile since I posted a recipe, so I decided that would be my focus here (and it promptly turned too hot to cook without air conditioning, so I haven't actually tried the recipes yet). However, I did my usual internet reading and learned a few interesting things.
Amaranth is more familiar as a high-protein, gluten-free grain, and sometimes you have to read pretty carefully to determine if a website is talking about the leaves or seeds. The leaves are more common in Asian cuisine, often appearing in stir-fries and curries. There are some 60 species of Amaranthaceae. The common wild one is one of several weeds called pigweed, which, yes, is also edible. Other varieties can be used as a red dye and as ornamentals -- Love-lies-bleeding is an amaranth.
Amaranth "greens" (mostly red to purple) are also called Chinese spinach, although it's not a close spinach relative. Amaranth has a stronger, more bitter flavor and tougher leaves than spinach -- only the youngest leaves should be eaten raw. The larger leaves are better cooked, but should not be reheated or their nitrates could get converted to nitrites. The root is also eaten, but less commonly.
Amaranth is nutritionally similar to beets, chard, and spinach, but with more protein, vitamin C, carotene, iron, and calcium. A couple of sources mention it as a good source of lysine, but I think they're talking about the seeds rather than the leaves. It stimulates growth and healing, reduces inflammation, supports the immune system, and may help lower blood pressure.
The most interesting thing I learned is that amaranth leaves are good for skin and hair. The leaves can be applied to patches of eczema and their juice, used topically, revitalizes hair follicles and fights baldness. I've not looked into the idea, but it might be useful against mange as well -- but check with your veterinarian before trying it. I've no idea whether dogs and cats can safely eat amaranth; and if you put it on them, you know they'll eventually lick or chew it off.
Read more:
label-style nutrition information for cooked amaranth leaves
Organic Facts
Innovate Us
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
1 bunch red amaranth, washed, shaken dry, picked over, and larger stems removed
2 Tbsp. cooking oil
1 clove garlic, crushed
2 Tbsp. oyster sauce
2 tsp. sugar
2 tsp. cornstarch mixed with 2 Tbsp. cold water
Chop amaranth leaves and small stems into bite-sized pieces. Heat oil and gently cook, stirring, until it begins to color. Add amaranth, increase heat to medium, and toss until wilted. Add oyster sauce and sugar, cover, and steam for a minute or two. Stir in cornstarch mixture and allow to boil until it thickens.
Spicy Amaranth
2 Tbsp. vegetable oil
1 clove garlic, minced or crushed
1 tsp. minced fresh ginger
1 small jalapeno pepper, seeded and minced
1 tsp. ground cumin
1/2 tsp. ground coriander
1/2 tsp. ground cloves
1/2 tsp. ground cardamom
1 lb. red amaranth leaves, washed, larger stems removed, torn as needed
1 tsp. salt, or to taste
1 Tbsp. lime juice
2 Tbsp. water
Heat oil, add the garlic, ginger, and jalapeno; toss for about 10 seconds. Stir in remaining spices and briefly continue cooking. Add amaranth leaves, salt, lime juice, and water. Stir-fry until the amaranth starts to wilt.
Adapted from Seasonal Chef
The long, chatty bit
native to: South America, probably Peru
in season in the Puget Sound region: August
I saw these at the
Olympia Farmers' Market (Piece by Piece Farm of food bank CSA fame had them, just lying there beside the lettuces) and they were so beautiful I just had to try them. And photograph them; they've motivated me to get back into putting photos in my posts.
It's been awhile since I posted a recipe, so I decided that would be my focus here (and it promptly turned too hot to cook without air conditioning, so I haven't actually tried the recipes yet). However, I did my usual internet reading and learned a few interesting things.
Amaranth is more familiar as a high-protein, gluten-free grain, and sometimes you have to read pretty carefully to determine if a website is talking about the leaves or seeds. The leaves are more common in Asian cuisine, often appearing in stir-fries and curries. There are some 60 species of Amaranthaceae. The common wild one is one of several weeds called pigweed, which, yes, is also edible. Other varieties can be used as a red dye and as ornamentals -- Love-lies-bleeding is an amaranth.
Amaranth "greens" (mostly red to purple) are also called Chinese spinach, although it's not a close spinach relative. Amaranth has a stronger, more bitter flavor and tougher leaves than spinach -- only the youngest leaves should be eaten raw. The larger leaves are better cooked, but should not be reheated or their nitrates could get converted to nitrites. The root is also eaten, but less commonly.
Amaranth is nutritionally similar to beets, chard, and spinach, but with more protein, vitamin C, carotene, iron, and calcium. A couple of sources mention it as a good source of lysine, but I think they're talking about the seeds rather than the leaves. It stimulates growth and healing, reduces inflammation, supports the immune system, and may help lower blood pressure.
The most interesting thing I learned is that amaranth leaves are good for skin and hair. The leaves can be applied to patches of eczema and their juice, used topically, revitalizes hair follicles and fights baldness. I've not looked into the idea, but it might be useful against mange as well -- but check with your veterinarian before trying it. I've no idea whether dogs and cats can safely eat amaranth; and if you put it on them, you know they'll eventually lick or chew it off.
Read more:
label-style nutrition information for cooked amaranth leaves
Organic Facts
Innovate Us
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
06 August, 2018
Galia melons
native to: Israel
in season in the Puget Sound region: August (mostly they're transported from central Washington; the Sound region doesn't really get warm enough for long enough to produce a good melon crop)
Also called Middle Eastern melon, Mediterranean melon, passport melon, honeymoon melon, or Israeli melon, galia melons are a cross between cantaloupes and honeydews. They look a lot like a smallish cantaloupe, with slightly paler skin that can take on a yellowish cast when very ripe and with somewhat less netting -- the network of little ridges that covers the rind. The flesh is where the real difference is, pale creamy yellow to bright green. They are sometimes considered a kind of honeydew but their flavor is more like a cantaloupe, if slightly milder and sweeter. If you want to get technical, they're a kind of muskmelon, a member of the Cucurbitaceae family known in scientific circles as Cucumis melo var. reticulatus. The seeds are also edible.
The main reason we don't see more of them is that they have a short shelf life, something like 2-3 weeks after picking (which in many cases would be just about the time it takes for them to reach a grocery store shelf). As longer-lived strains are developed, we're likely to see more of them.
They were developed in the 1960s by Dr. Zvi Karchi at the Ne´ve Yaar Research Center of the Agricultural Research Organization in Israel, named after his daughter, and released for commercial production in 1973.
Galias provide plenty of vitamins A and C, carotenoids, bioflavonoids, potassium, calcium, and iron, and also contain a fair amount of fiber, including pectin. They help with weight loss, promote digestion, and fight diabetes because of all that fiber; support the immune system with vitamin C and antioxidants such as bioflavonoids; work against certain types of cancer; improve vision with vitamin A and carotenoids; and protect the heart by reducing cholesterol and because their potassium acts as a vasodilator and lowers blood pressure. They have diuretic properties that flush sodium and toxins that cause kidney disease and eczema. They're low in carbohydrates and have alkalizing properties. In combination with lemons they can help cure gout. Their vitamins A and C, collagen, and basic high water content make them good for the skin. They even help bodybuilders, with their low fructose content, minerals, fiber, and moisture.
The only real health concern, minor as it is, is the high fiber content. Too much fiber can over-rev digestion, bind nutrients, and speed food through the intestines so things don't have as much chance to be absorbed by the body. This is only an issue if you eat a while lot of them, though.
Read more:
Only Foods
Organic Facts
Specialty Produce
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
in season in the Puget Sound region: August (mostly they're transported from central Washington; the Sound region doesn't really get warm enough for long enough to produce a good melon crop)
Also called Middle Eastern melon, Mediterranean melon, passport melon, honeymoon melon, or Israeli melon, galia melons are a cross between cantaloupes and honeydews. They look a lot like a smallish cantaloupe, with slightly paler skin that can take on a yellowish cast when very ripe and with somewhat less netting -- the network of little ridges that covers the rind. The flesh is where the real difference is, pale creamy yellow to bright green. They are sometimes considered a kind of honeydew but their flavor is more like a cantaloupe, if slightly milder and sweeter. If you want to get technical, they're a kind of muskmelon, a member of the Cucurbitaceae family known in scientific circles as Cucumis melo var. reticulatus. The seeds are also edible.
The main reason we don't see more of them is that they have a short shelf life, something like 2-3 weeks after picking (which in many cases would be just about the time it takes for them to reach a grocery store shelf). As longer-lived strains are developed, we're likely to see more of them.
They were developed in the 1960s by Dr. Zvi Karchi at the Ne´ve Yaar Research Center of the Agricultural Research Organization in Israel, named after his daughter, and released for commercial production in 1973.
Galias provide plenty of vitamins A and C, carotenoids, bioflavonoids, potassium, calcium, and iron, and also contain a fair amount of fiber, including pectin. They help with weight loss, promote digestion, and fight diabetes because of all that fiber; support the immune system with vitamin C and antioxidants such as bioflavonoids; work against certain types of cancer; improve vision with vitamin A and carotenoids; and protect the heart by reducing cholesterol and because their potassium acts as a vasodilator and lowers blood pressure. They have diuretic properties that flush sodium and toxins that cause kidney disease and eczema. They're low in carbohydrates and have alkalizing properties. In combination with lemons they can help cure gout. Their vitamins A and C, collagen, and basic high water content make them good for the skin. They even help bodybuilders, with their low fructose content, minerals, fiber, and moisture.
The only real health concern, minor as it is, is the high fiber content. Too much fiber can over-rev digestion, bind nutrients, and speed food through the intestines so things don't have as much chance to be absorbed by the body. This is only an issue if you eat a while lot of them, though.
Read more:
Only Foods
Organic Facts
Specialty Produce
Esperanta traduko: this post is also available in Esperanto, because Dana is a language geek.
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