Cold-Wilted Spinach

In my quest to heat my kitchen as little as possible, I discovered an interesting way to wilt spinach by beating it up.  It started with a tomato salad I was letting sit to meld the flavors.  About an hour before I was going to serve it, I decided to stir in some baby spinach in as well.  When I came back to it, the spinach was completely wilted -- not in a sad-salad kind of way, but more like I'd given it a whirl in the skillet before combining.

It wasn't exactly what I was going for at the time, but I was intrigued. A couple of nights later, I tried making a wilted spinach salad to go with cold soba noodles [no recipe, but they were something like this].  About half an hour before dinner, I tossed the spinach with the dressing, left it on the counter, and gave it a stir every time I passed by.  Come dinner, I squeezed out all of the juice, plated it in a little mound, and poured the dressing over the top.  It was perfect.

I'm guessing it has something to do with the acids in the tomatoes first and the vinegar second, aided by the bruising caused by the stirring.  It's probably not chemically identical to cooked spinach (though it could be, ceviche-style) and it's really only a valuable technique when lack of heat is more important than speed [a cold salad or... a picnic?] but I liked it... so I'm sharing it with you.

Recipe: Cold-Wilted Spinach with Soy and Sesame
Hourensou no Goma-Ae

It worked!

My epazote has returned from the dead.  For once, my excess of optimism paid off.

Garden Woes

Remember my happy little garden?  While I was out of town I lost: the tomatoes, cucumbers, cayenne, nasturtiums, oregano, thyme, cilantro, lettuce, aroogula, and epazote.  Boston's freak heatwave and an unnoticed faucet drip baked some and drowned the others.

Most of them were summer flings, but I'd had the epazote plant ~6 years and was one of 3 herbs [and 9 orchids] I brought from Texas. I'm still watering it, hoping some tiny shoot will emerge from the brittle twigs. [I realize that my optimism often serves to set me up for even more disappointment.]

I went to the garden store to replenish the rest and discovered there is a very small planting window in Yankee Land and it has passed... there were simply no herbs or vegetables to be had: Better luck next year, kid.

Bulgur Salad Lettuce Wraps [aka Mediterranean Tacos]

I needed to cut back all of my herbs and lettuce before depositing my garden in the bathtub and skipping town, so I made this pretty little no-heat salad for dinner.  

 

I salted the remaining tomatoes and left them to drain over a measuring cup, then combined that with the juice from my 2 remaining lemons, stirred in 1/3 cup of fine bulgur (parboiled cracked wheat) and let it sit until the grains absorbed the liquid ~ 15 minutes.  

Then I tossed it with my herbs (mostly the cilantro and burnet, which were bolting), diced my remaining queso seco as a feta cheese stand-in, threw in a few pinches of salt and pepper,  drizzled it with olive oil, and served it with lettuce leaves, taco-style.

I was pleased with the result.  It was a nice dinner for two, but I imagine it'd make a nice side dish with shish-kebabs.  A diced cucumber and chopped kalmata olives would have added some nice texture, but I didn't have the first and I didn't think of the second until later.

Garden in the Sky!

I had a nice big garden in Texas.  Here in Yankee Land, I have a fire escape.  Since I don't have enough space to plant real crops, I focused on a meal-enhancement garden -- herbs and sandwich fixings, plus a couple of squash and cucumber plants that seem ready to get unruly.  I'm rather excited.

I've planted totem tomatoes, cayenne pepper, butter bibb lettuce, aroooogula, everbearing strawberries, zucchini, cucumber, chocolate mint, English thyme, Genovese basil, Mexican oregano, epazote, Cuban oregano, variegated sage, upright rosemary, Greek oregano, Thai cilantro, lemon verbena, French tarragon, burnet, and a couple nasturtium varietals. 

I wanted French sorrel, but I couldn't find any at the garden store around the corner... and I'm kind of out of space since JG requested I keep the fire escape fire escape-able.

"Spring" in Yankee Land

This is what spring looks like so far in Yankee Land:

There are buds on the the trees, but still no leaves. We've had a two or three days where the sun came out and the entire city came out en mass and removed most of their clothing [I have never seen so much pasty white flesh in my life.] For the most part, though, it's been nothing but rain... cold, cold rain.

I'm told this is warmer weather and last year there was snow on the ground until April, which actually makes me wish it was just a little colder. I can't believe I'm saying it, but so far I think I prefer winter to spring up here in Yankee Land.

I'm also doing my best not to pay any sort of attention to the weather in Austin right now... that might be depressing.

How is this possible?

How is it possible for my bananas to be both green and brown? This has happened with every bunch I've gotten for a least the last month.

Another First

I just made the most amazing discovery: We had a brief warm spell where the rain melted away the snow and THE GRASS IS GREEN UNDERNEATH!
Are you surprised that I'm surprised? Well, let me tell you something that Texans discuss freely amongst themselves but are a little shy to share with Yankees: We don't have grass. Turf grass like bluegrass or fescue, with the deep green color and the skinny-skinny blades, does not grow in Texas. We selectively grow semi-native coastal grass plants that people not from the area have called "weeds" that spread via runners over the top of the soil. If you can get your St. Augustine or Bermuda grass to grow densely enough, you get a lawn... but that lawn will go mostly brown and dormant during the winter. [I've overseeded my lawn with ryegrass in the winter, but it's a somewhat controversial practice.]

I just assumed all the grass up here went dormant once it froze and was covered with snow, but the snow's gone [for now] and those skinny little blades are just as happy as can be. It's amazing.... to me, anyway.

La Vista

I snuck back to Texas for a week just as the snow started in Yankee Land. My brother works on a cattle ranch [remember the Beef Cake?] and we spent a little time out there. I really loved this picture of a hornet's nest on a mesquite branch... "Don't Mess with Texas," indeed.

[FYI: Mesquite is not native to Texas but was brought with the Spaniards, probably as seeds in the stomachs of their cows. Those thorns are thick and sharp enough to puncture a car tire.]

Perspective

There's a great quote in This Side of Paradise where the protagonist, a disillusioned and disaffected youth, walks along a country road and stops to examine a flower only to discover that the flower's not in the best shape either. He laments that nature is "a rather coarse phenomenon" that can only be enjoyed in macro and it, like the rest of society, doesn't hold up to close scrutiny.
This flower's at the end of its existence, but I think it more interesting in detail [click on the picture for better resolution].
I like scrappy.



FYI: I still have the mosquito box... They're still hatching and it's mesmerizing.

Now I've done it.

Have you ever accidentally created a mosquito terrarium? I don't mean a breeding ground in the form of a bucket of rain water on the patio; I mean a display case in your living room full of buzzing mosquitoes, something only a truly demented person would possess.
It started innocently enough. There was a very pretty polypore fungus at the base of a tree around the corner, hanging over the curb. I decided that sooner or later a car was going to park too close and destroy it and my Wardian case happened to be empty, so JG brought it home for me. [You know it's love when they bring you a fungus the length of your forearm that smells of wood rot.]
Unfortunately, it turns out that the polypore holds enough moisture to spawn mosquitoes and now there are quite a few floating around the case but, luckily for me, New England mosquitoes are frighteningly large and don't seem to be able to escape at the hinge seams.

My only hope now is that whatever spider lives in there will eat them all.

New England Still Life

A friend brought me produce she picked at a local farm... Somehow apples, peaches, plums, and pears all ripen at the same time up here... I don't quite understand it, but I've enjoyed eating it.

Crab Apple Preserves

JG and I were at a wedding in New Hampshire recently and came across a crabapple tree in a park. There was fruit all over the ground and the tree was chock full of fruit still, so we emptied a shopping bag and filled it full of fruit (~4 lbs). I'd never done anything with crab apples before, but we quickly discovered they're extremely tart like cranberries but with a heady apple scent, which took us into thanksgiving-style thinking. The idea was to preserve them in a spicy syrup for serving after turkey, but I was wholly unable to keep the skins from splitting during the simmer, no matter how many ways I pricked them.
Luckily, as super potent apple, they also have a very high pectin content, so I sieved the whole mess and turned it into some wildly-colored preserves that we can serve in lieu of cranberry sauce this year... unless I happen upon a wild cranberry bog up here, then we may have to have both.
How do you know that weird little fruit is a crabapple? Cut it in half; it should have a 5-star seed pattern. If it doesn't, I don't know what it is and you probably shouldn't put it in your mouth.
I attempted to make crabapple jam squares, but they went horribly awry in snack-cake kind of way. Tasty, but not what I wanted to send to my grandfather.
I think I came up with a solution today, but more experiments are required...


Recipe: Crab Apple Preserves
What I made was an amalgamation of a few failures, but this way will work the first time around.

~2 1/2 cups sugar
2 cups water
1/2 stick cinnamon
6 black peppercorns
3 cardamom pods
1 alspice berry
1/4 tsp anise seed
1 lemon, juice and zest (or an orange, for a little less zip)

~ 2 lbs crab apples, whole

Use 1 1/4 cup sugar for every 1 lb of crab apples. Combine spices in a diffusing ball or tea bag. Bring sugar, water, citrus, and spices to a boil and simmer in a small stockpot or dutch oven, uncovered, for 15 minutes. Remove spices with a slotted spoon and discard. Add crab apples and simmer gently for 15 minutes. [Congratulations if your skins don't split.] Set up a strainer over a big bowl, pour the contents of the pot through, and press the solids until only the skins, stems, and cores remain -- the cores are much tougher than a normal apple. Return the contents of the bowl to the pot over medium heat and stir frequently until the preserves hit 220F (they'll foam up and come close to boiling over at about 218F). Pour into hot jars and seal. Process in a water bath, if desired.

Summer Squash Pizza

Here's a summer bonus for your pizza topping pleasure:
Just slice it thin and don't let it out of the oven until the edges curls and brown spots appear. It may look dried out, but that just concentrated flavor.

[Also pictured and discussed previously: whole-wheat dough, simmered tomato sauce, carmelized onions, fresh moz, and scallions]

Grow Your Own Scallions

This is a nifty trick I picked up from my sister-in-law. I almost never buy scallions because 3/4ths of the bunch always ends up rotting in the vegetable bin, but it turns out you can keep scallions alive in water near a window. The more light they get the darker green they'll be, but they aren't that picky. You can even use all of the green part and drop the white root end in the water and it'll grow again. You can pull out that slimy bunch from the fridge, discard all the funk and as long as the root tip is okay, it'll grow back... just make sure the water level is below the greens so they don't rot again. I bought these babies almost 2 months ago and I've harvested them at least 5 times now.
Thanks, Lou!

Fresh Pond is my new friend.

Any trail that's willing to share mixed (!) wild berries on my first visit is okay in my book.
It was a lot lonelier than Lady Bird Lake, but it was also the hottest time of the day on the hottest day of the year (~90F) so I can't be too surprised that more people weren't around.

Mint Tea

This one is super simple and super refreshing.... well it was actually simpler when I had my own herb garden, but it still only takes a brief pause in the produce section next to the leafy greens. I've done it with many variations... lemon verbena is great [particularly if you throw in a bag of orange- or peach-enhanced black tea] and thyme and lavender are lovely in small doses... but mint is my favorite.

Recipe: Mint Tea
I usually use a tea pitcher, but I don't have one at the moment and the rinsed milk jug works just fine. You can use just a leaves [5-10ish?] in a smaller pitcher

handful of mint [~1/3 of a $1 bunch, 1/2 of a $.50 bunch]
1 gallon of water, filtered if your tap water has a funky flavor

Crush mint without tearing [or you'll end up with bits in you glass] into chosen receptacle. Fill with water and cover. Let stand at room temp until water takes on light color. Refrigerate.

You can refill the water in the pitcher or jug after pouring out a few servings and the mint will continue to steep more slowly in the fridge. After 3-5 days, the tea will get as strong as it's going to get and it's best to strain the tea into another container and dump the solids.

Roadside Raspberries

I'm spending a little time at a lake house about an hour away from St Louis. I went for a walk the other day and discovered these growing anywhere the trees were cut back far enough to give them light, mostly along the roadside:
They're native black raspberries. My grandmother used to pick wild red raspberries in Minnesota, and I valued those jars of jam more than anything else in her vast pantry.

Seeing these berries on the roadside got me a little overstimulated. Over the past week and a half I've made a dozen jars of jam, a pie, and filled a 750ml whiskey bottle (those won't be ready for a few months). If I lived here, I'd freeze some on a sheet tray then keep them in a freezer bag for all my pancake/muffin/smoothie/yogurt needs, but I need my berries to be mobile for now.
I've also picked up ticks, lots of mosquito bites, and a fine network of scratches all over my hands and arms from the thorns of the berry canes. It was absolutely worth it... as long as I don't end up with Lyme disease.

Recipe: Wild Black Raspberry Jam
You can, of course, use frozen berries. The sugar preserves the berries by inhibiting bacterial growth, so don't be tempted to reduce the amount. The lemon and cider vinegar gives the jam a little of that tart edge present in the berries that the sugar tends to mute. I usually use a scale and add 1 cup of sugar per 1 lb of fruit pulp, but it was too big for the travel bag. Use the biggest stockpot you've got. It'll seem like overkill until it starts sputtering boiling stickiness.

Yield: 4-5 jars (if you have a partial, just put it straight into the fridge)

4 cups smashed berries, ~2 lbs
2 cups sugar (unrefined if you've got it)
juice of 1 lemon (and optional zest, finely grated)
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar

In a large stock pot, combine all ingredients over medium-low heat until juices begin to simmer and sugar dissolves ~5 minutes. Increase heat to medium high and cook, stirring frequently, until it reaches jam consistency* ~10-15 minutes. Ladle into sterile jars and seal.** Store in a cool place up to 2 years. Refrigerate after opening.
* There are a couple ways to check this. If you have an instant read thermometer, the jam needs to reach 220F at the bottom of the pan. Otherwise, put a small plate in the freezer before you start cooking the jam. Once the jam looks to be almost as thick as you want it (it'll thicken as it cools), remove it from heat and drop a spoonful onto your cold plate, let it sit ~30 seconds to cool, and check the consistency. Remember, any jam that doesn't set makes an excellent sauce for pancakes and french toast.

** There are lots of proper, USDA recommended ways to store your jam like a boiling water bath. The common European way is to simply pour the jam into clean jars and seal. At 220F, the jam is actually hotter than boiling water, and as long as you seal it quickly the heat will kill anything lurking in your jars that the sugar and acid won't. If, however, the jam cools too much before you ladle it and/or the lids aren't sealed (the little button pops) after 8 hours, you will need to do a water bath to properly seal them.

Dried Arugula -- a Basil Substitute

You know how dried basil is so disappointing because it doesn't taste like anything? Particularly anything like basil? I have a solution. It still doesn't taste exactly like fresh basil, but it does provide a nice herbal pepper hit and stores in your pantry after a minute and a half of work.
The confetti pizza gave me the idea. The toasted arugula around the edges had an intense flavor, so I dried out some more of it, then stored it a couple weeks. I still don't know how long it'll keep it's punch, but the results are promising so far.
The "recipe" super easy: Rinse your greens if necessary. Spread them on a paper towel in a single layer. Nuke 30 seconds. Open door to let steam escape. Redistribute on towel. Repeat until crispy. Break into pieces [it's better to save the crumbling for when you actually use it]. Store in an airtight container.

If you buy it from the store, the arugula will probably be all about the same size. The stuff in my garden wasn't, so I made two piles and the bigger leaves got an extra 30 seconds.
A word of warning: Plant material will catch on fire in the microwave if you dry it out too much -- I once had a little mishap when sterilizing sphagnum moss-- but if you do it in 30 second intervals it won't be a problem.

Ghost Millipede

I found an albino millipede when I was watering my orchids. I wouldn't have guessed I had millipedes in my house and the orchids have been around for years, so I don't think it came with the plant... although they do have a surprisingly long life span [up to 10 years in the case of giant millipedes] so maybe it just finally got big enough for me to notice.
I took a couple pictures, went to find a jar... and then it vanished. I watered the plant again to see if I could flood it out but it didn't work, so now I'm trying to lure it out with compost scraps. We'll see. I love millipedes. Centipedes creep me out because they're fast and bite, but millipedes are always chill.

As an aside, isn't this a lovely paphiopedilum?