The Wandering Dinner Party

So, the day after The Numbers Game closed, before some people went one direction, and as other people just arrived to start on the next show, we decided on the first test round of our Grand Experiment: The Wandering Dinner Party.

 There are a handful of us living in walking range of each other. (A very novel concept after 24 years in the country, where the nearest 'next door' get together was the exciting New Year's Eve dinners at friends' farm, about 18 km away.) Admittedly, the walk is easier when the weather is good. Our evening was a bit chilly, but clear, dry weather.

 I'd wanted to be part of the Grand Experiment, especially in this first round, while it was still small in numbers! But I wisely decided I was only able for cocktails and canapes, where people might expect to just stand around...nibbling something on a toothpick.

 By some quirk of fate, we actually managed to sit. Kind of. And I contrived some table space for the canapes. (Greatly in need of some cooking, even with no time, no tools, and minimal ingredients, I chose a Spanish theme, and did some tapas and sherries.)

                                                                            Guests!

 Next we had a brisk walk across downtown Orangeville, past our final location, and across a small bridge over a stream. (Tim shone his flashlight down to show it to us in the dark! I hadn't even realized this pathway existed, and it certainly tightens up our little route.)
Our next stop, for the entree, was the lovely little apartment where Paula, our Stage Manager from the show which just closed, and Kevin, our incoming Stage Manager, live. (They're also brand newcomers to the place, though with fewer boxes!)

Here we had a succulent roast with all the best accompaniments. Then we wandered back to our final address for dessert.

An amazing chocolate ginger cheesecake, and a cocktail with citrus and ginger. And an elderflower liqueur.

Then a final nightcap of blueberry wine, and music on Tim's victrola! (And a stagger back home in the nippy evening air...)
  Of course, the very next day I started three days of intensive packing and moving, (still not finished) and all empty spaces are now filled with boxes. And I've started working on the Christmas show, so may not have time to breathe till we open...

Montreal Bagels, Wareham-style

A couple of weekends ago we were visiting with friends, and other friends, up from the city, had brought bagels. Wonderful fresh bagels from the St. Lawrence Market. It's been a long time since I've had really good Montreal style bagels. (In fact, so long that I'd almost forgotten how exquisite they can be!)
When we lived in the city, and even when I still worked there, a lot more bakery bagels crossed our paths. I used to make a pilgrimage to some great bakery up at Yonge and Eglinton, and always bring back a special cache of them. But these days we end up with the more ordinary grocery store bagels, and the Montreal style ones have simply become a forgotten memory.

Now I've baked bagels before, though it was a long time ago. Not sure why, because they're not really any more difficult that any other shaped bread product. Yes, there's a handful of steps, but it's not rocket science, and they're pretty forgiving.

So I went looking for recipes, since I have no idea what one I used to use. And then I thought to look in one of the cookbooks that I've only been given in the last few years.

I love the cookbooks by Naomi Duguid and Jeffrey Alford. They're beautiful, full of fabulous food and culture and travel. Even the Home Baking one, which is a little more ordinary, has a wealth of variety. And yes, there's a bagel recipe.

Pretty much it's a straightforward recipe. There was only one ingredient that made me pause. They ask for some 'wheat malt syrup'. Oops. Even looking this up in the glossary wasn't helping a lot. Back in my brewing days I might have had some barley malt syrup on hand, but wheat? And I'm betting that's not something I'll be able to easily find without going further afield. And for 2 Tablespoons worth?
Some Googling suggested a substitution of molasses, which seemed pretty logical, and was more or less what I'd thought of on my own. I'm kind of surprised that the cookbook authors didn't make any kind of suggestion, since they're usually pretty good about suggesting workarounds for exotic items, but maybe it's only exotic around Wareham!
[I want to try this recipe again, with some preplanning, and I'll sprout some wheat and roast and grind it to make my own malt syrup. Once. Just to see...)

Anyway, I was already deciding these would be a somewhat experimental version. The cookbook gave instructions for basic mixing by hand, or for using a stand mixer. I'd love one of those but don't have one. I probably could have subbed in my Cuisinart, but I thought, heck, why not just use the breadmaker. I often use it to take things to dough stage. I find my hands and arms get stiff and arthritic when I knead, and then I tend to be inefficient about it. But even more, it provides a better environment for proofing my dough. It's not so much of a thing right now, in June, but throughout the cooler months our house isn't the most useful for getting dough to rise. The breadmaker really helps with that.
So that took care of the mixing and the first rising. Then I moved the dough to a bowl, punched it down and let it rise a second time.

After the dough has risen, you divide it into quarters and work each quarter of the dough, rolling it into fat cords, and then rolling the ends together to make the bagel shapes.

I did find that trying for 8 bagels from each quarter wasn't giving me sandwich-sized bagels, even with another short rise, and the puffing in the boiling water. I switched to six from each of the last three quarters, but I think I'd try making them bigger still next time.
After the bagel shapes had risen for another fifteen minutes, I'd managed to get a pot of water with some honey, to a boil, and dropped those bagel shapes in to puff and set. I think this is the step that may not occur with grocery store bagels. Or they have some other variant that gives them a more ordinary bread quality.
[For some reason, possibly only amusing to myself, I refer to this as the 'bloviation' stage. The bagel shapes puffed up some in the boiling water, and I would encourage them to bloviate to goodly sized bagels.]

From the boiling water, the hot wet bagel shapes were dropped into seeds, and rolled about. Then baked.

These turned out remarkably well, if small. I'm not certain if my tweaking of procedure had anything to do with that. I'd also ended up using one cup of whole wheat flour when I realized I didn't really have enough all-purpose. At least I had some regular wheat flour, as opposed to having to sub in some of my weirder historical cooking flours. I find it's useful to only change so many variables at once. At least the first time through!

v

Look, Dave!

PIE!!!

The Tough Decision

So, I wandered down to the pond, and part of my routine was checking on the frogs, and the koi, seeing what level the water was at, what stage the plants around the pond were in, it having been a kind of unnatural sort of spring.... And yes...checking hopefully in the spot where last year we'd had one stalk of asparagus, and later, one asparagus fern.



There it is! Again, this year, *ONE* stalk of asparagus. I can't really track down completely useful information on the growing and propagation of asparagus. I only know that we didn't plant it, and last year was the first occasion of such exotic discoveries.
Last year I was lucky, as far as I can see, that somehow I missed a stalk, or it came along more slowly, to go to fern, since I think they're an important part of there being further asparagus.

So, to harvest and feast? Or to leave it. In hopes of continuation.

I think we're going to make the hard decision and forego our culinary delights this year. Sigh.

(Not that there's a huge amount of delight in ONE stalk, even carefully divided lengthwise, betwixt two people...)

Lasagna!

I had some mozzarella. That made me think I should make some lasagna. (Also because when I make lasagna, we actually end up having enough for several meals, and I can freeze a chunk to use for other meals, when we need something quickly. )
So, because we're having a bit of a hot, bake-y week, that seemed the appropriate time to be putting something in the oven. (On the weekend, when it first turned warm, was when I suddenly was inspired to make some bread-and-butter pudding! My mind works in strange ways...)

Anyway, I also figured it was time for a second kick at the new-to-me pasta maker. And since I'd forgotten to take pictures the first time I used it....

So, this is a portion of the dough, waiting in the bowl, while I kneaded the other half. This time around I thought I'd mix the dough by hand. The first time, I used the Cuisinart, since I'd found some instructions. But really, the pasta maker does the kneading, as you roll the dough through it over and over. In which case, why dirty the Cuisinart? Because the mixing up of the dough is astonishingly simple. (In fact, I just discovered an even simpler recipe to try, with even fewer ingredients. I'll have to try that out too.)

[Note to self: 1/3 of the current recipe doesn't really make quite enough pasta for lasagna. Maybe 1/2 recipe would be better.]


Here I am rolling out the pasta. (It's hard to roll out the pasta *and* take pictures! I'd even decided that rolling the pasta would work better with three hands; two to guide and collect the pasta, and one to turn the crank.) You start off by taking the little ball of dough, like was sitting in the bowl, and patting it down into a thick little pad, and feeding that into the rollers. Then when it comes out you fold it over onto itself, and feed it through again. Eventually, after folding and feeding, and some origami time, the dough gets elastic and smooth, and it's now ready for the next steps.
So then you adjust the rollers to closer and closer, and rough the dough thinner and thinner, until you get it to a thickness which pleases your purpose. At that point you can cut it into noodles. However, since I was making lasagna, I really only needed to cut my pieces into appropriate lengths.

I couldn't find any definitive info on whether I needed to precook the noodles before putting the lasagna together. I understand the need to cook store bought dried lasagna noodles. The sauce is neither wet enough, nor is the lasagna baked long enough for them to soften. But fresh pasta is already soft. So....is cooking necessary? I googled a few comments out there, and opted for a brief cooking time. I did note that cooking changed the texture of the noodles. They became a little less fragile. That alone seems a good enough reason to pop them in salted, boiling water for a few minutes! It made them easier to use in the construction of the casserole.


Here's the lasagna, after I'd put it all together.


And here it is, baked, before we dived in.

Certainly it tasted well enough. I'm not sure, without a side by side tasting if I could put my finger on what the differences in taste might be. Darrell seemed to think it tasted different, and good. On the whole though, the reward may simply be my amusement at lasagna made with my own noodles. However, we'll have to see how the leftovers taste. I saw some comments on the web with differing opinions about the effect of fresh pasta in leftover, or frozen lasagna.

But on the whole, I think it was a satisfying experiment. I do have several things I'd like to try with this pasta maker. I'd like to make the pasta where herbs are rolled into the dough. I still need to try the cutting attachment, and see what happens. Ravioli would be fun. And I definitely want to play with some different flours. It would be interesting to find out if I can use rice flour and invent wrappers for Oriental dishes, or chick pea flour for samosa wrappers... It would never stop me opting for store bought convenience, but since stores local to me don't carry all these things, or even regularly stock the items I use as alternatives, then it would be nice to have the technology and information to occasionally assuage my own food cravings! (There, David Nairn. Just for you. "Assuage"!)

Souvenir of Manitoba

Smoked Lake Winnipeg Goldeye, from the Gimli Fish Market. Yum! (We et it all up.)

The Ultimate Snack Food?

Stolen from my brother's blog about life in Cambodia...

Again with the videos

Sorry, but it's delightful. And it *IS* related to food, one of my themes....


http://view.break.com/534274 - Watch more free videos

Gaaahhhh!

So there I was, all smug and calm and poised, as I started making haggis for the weekend. (It being Robbie Burns Day and all.)

Until I took the lid off for a stir!

Shudder. This is why I pronounce, every time, that I will never make haggis again! Just so....livery!

Of course the cats approve heartily.

v

Resolutions

Not that I'm really one for New Year's Resolutions, and I don't know that I specifically decided to do it in this past year, but since everytime I see that ad for whatever the Reality TV show is about bungee jumping out of planes and wrestling with snakes (or whatever) about No Lost Opportunities or No Wasted Moments, or something... I always figure that I have more interesting things I haven't done, and have been putting off.....

So:

This year I finally made polenta! In fact, I did it twice, and one time for guests!

Ever since I first discovered that there was such a thing as polenta, I've had a bit of a fear of it. My first experience was when my father decided to experiment (both parents are gourmet cooks and experimenters, I come by it honestly!) Dad's experiment was one that went a bit strange. Or maybe it was because the whole meal, or maybe just the new bits in it, didn't quite come out as expected.
There were the braised leeks he'd cut lengthwise. So they were a lot of work to try and eat. And the polenta really seemed reminiscent of wallpaper paste.

But I always knew I'd have to revisit polenta. And truth be told, it *IS* a lot like wallpaper paste. It just tastes better! If only we'd realized way back then...

So, I don't know what leap of faith I'm going to make this year... I have one idea. Let's see!

anti-v

It Takes a Farmer...

to feed a village. Don't look to a vandy, it will be a lean winter!

So, the 'harvest' is in. And it's a slim one.

I've never pretended to have a green thumb, not in the least. For me, a happy garden is one that survives in spite of me. Plants that grow regardless of conditions or care. But every year I seem to make the attempt to nurture something. (Not to mention the nudges from friends about just how much grocery money I could save by 'growing my own'.)

Well, this year was a sadder year than some.
My initial plans for another raised bed fell afoul of repurposement of materials. (I thought it was going to be scrap, he thought he'd re-use it to rebuild the stairs.)
And my old garden at the foot of the deck stairs got slated for re-zoning as he planned the new deck.
And we had a heat wave, and no rain at all, so I had to be judicious in how I distributed the water from our rain barrels.
Then the bugs came. A plot of newly sprouting salad greens disappeared OVERNIGHT! Flea beatles got my mustard greens, and just when I thought they might be sprouting again, raccoons came and dug up the entire planter in curiosity. (I'm assuming curiosity, but raccoons are a bewildering species. They also ATE one of the styrofoam wig heads I'd been building masks on. Okay, not the whole thing, but enough that it's not so handy for humanoid masks anymore...)

So, anyway.... We won't be eating long and heartily on what I've managed to harvest: some barbie-doll potatoes, beet greens without any beets, and a few scrawny allium family plants, where they're so scrawny I'm not sure what they wanted to grow up to be.

The Harvest:

Pickle Day in Paradise

Okay, not really Paradise, and only a small batch of pickles, so not really pickle day, but there’s more alliteration in that than anything else I can think of.

Yup. As I was suddenly in the last chaotic stretch of getting ready to open One Moment by Norm Foster, someone came by to thank Darrell for web help with a bag of garden goods, including some cukes. Then he went to the store and came home with another bag of cucumbers. And some mark down dill seed. And I could see the writing on the wall.
(He claims he had no such organized thoughts, but…)

Anyway, the show has opened. I had a recovery day. I had a start of housecleaning day. I had a day of thinking about food because we were having surprise (to me) dinner guests. (Okay, not a total surprise, I did find out on the weekend.)
I had a useless day. And then I had a day back down to the city to turn in all my expense paperwork, do an alteration, and have a look at the new-to-be wardrobe space, and help unload some stuff into it.

So, today was pickle day. Just my usual small batch of dill pickles. Though I will do another batch later, in modern jars, so I have some giftie pickles. It really is such an amazingly simple (and usually) successful recipe. [Posted back on September 21, 2005] And yes, it did turn out that was the version of recipe I’d been trying to locate. I now store it here in my recipe files on the computer so I can find it again and again.

The nice thing is, that being so simple, it’s easy enough to make them up any time some cucumbers cross your path. And I’ve found that I can reheat the brine when I finish a jar and add another cuke’s worth of slices, and turn them into a refrigerator pickle that tastes almost as good. So a small batch goes fairly far.

This year I’m also experimenting with using “Pickle Crisp”, which is a calcium carbonate additive that theoretically keeps the pickles crisp. And I’m only trying it because (I think) I had one jar last year where the cuke slices got a bit soft, and often tore when getting them out of the jar. But maybe it wasn’t even those pickles. I don’t remember. Anyway, let’s try it once and see.
Oh, and this year, the leftover brine is going to some carrots, but I think we’re just going to eat them with dinner.

Anti-V

eating locally

Well, I made some cabbage rolls. (To me, eating locally often simply means
making something!) I did buy ingredients locally.
But then it starts to fall apart!

Cabbage. Check. Could have been a semi-local cabbage. I was already in line
at the checkout when I remembered I hadn't even looked to see if it said.
I'd been looking at price, and whether it was PER cabbage or per pound/kg.
And picking the more inexpensive breed of cabbage. (We're both starving
artists, there's a non-existent budget to cling precariously to.)

But then, after I'd looked up the recipe(s), I realized it would be far
trickier. Even foodstuffs that are raised locally, don't necessarily get
into the supermarket food chain. Such is life. And having a tiny town be the
closest source of groceries, means that even mainstream grocery store
foodstuffs might be a challenge to find...(Parsley is an occasionally wicked
secret in our town. Yes, they often carry some now, but it's often hidden in
the back, and obtained by a whispered furtive conversation with a grocery
clerk.) Fresh herbs? Ha! Fresh local herbs and greens? Ha! Ha!

Anyway, one of the key ingredients in cabbage rolls, apart from the
cabbage, is rice.
Whoops. I'm betting there's not a big traffic in locally-grown rice.
(Hmmm....wonder what they'd be like with wild rice? Expensive.)

Barley? Well, checking my bag of barley only tells me it was packed in
Canada. And pretty much, I'd assume that unless a foodstuff came primarily
from the same location always, packaging is going to default to the basic
repeatable information. My Basmati rice says "product of India", even though
it's packaged in Ontario.

Actually, browsing through my shelves tells me that "packaged in Canada"
and occasionally "product of Canada" seems to be about the most info I'm
going to get on major store brand packaging.

***There was a comment on the radio a week or so ago. Someone had phoned in
to ask 'why didn't they ever find Ontario lamb in grocery stores', and the
reply had to do with grocery stores needing products that have been
federally inspected so they could cross provincial boundaries, and lamb not
using that system. But Canada has trade arrangements with New Zealand which
grant NZ inspection systems an equivalent status to our federal ones.
Hmmmm.....

But, back to the cabbage rolls. I eventually decided that they might work
with bulgur wheat, the same stuff one uses in tabouleh. Except for the fact
I can't get bulgur wheat up here (really does sound like I live at the end
of the world, doesn't it?) and when I make tabouleh, I now substitute
barley! Oh well.

Tomato juice, if I play my cards right, might come from the
Blenheim/Ridgetown area of Ontario. They are major tomato producers.

But for all my pride in homemade cabbage rolls, I guess they're not really
going to qualify as a "local" dinner.

Now my perogies from last night....they did use potatoes grown in
Shelburne... but the flour, yoghurt, bacon, cheese, onions... they all came
out of fridge and cupboard, and don't say, or no longer have labels, and
were all bought in town from the small selection of products, and
occasionally, on sale(which often tips my hand towards choice-making.)

I suppose my "eating local" challenge is to be able to make meals out of
whatever I can get at the local grocery, and to not have to travel further
afield Maybe I'll keep *my* carbon footprint smaller by not driving to the
bigger towns for the better choices.

Hmmmm....perplexing.

Anti-V, in uffish thought.

A Walk on the Wild Side

So, I went off to the woods today. Judging by my transplanted wild leeks in my little forest garden, it was time to look into a first harvesting. At this stage, the leeks are mostly green tops, but full of flavour, and make a delicate salad green, or can be used in sautes. (I'm planning on doing some up with a bit of cheese to serve with pasta this evening. Yum!)

Different fields between my house and the forest seem to be lying fallow this year, or at this moment, so I was able to head cross country, and get to the fun stuff much more quickly.


A pretty little Trout Lily. I have trout lilies in my forest garden, but they can take many years to flower, so I still only have leaves. But they showed up on their own initiative, so I can't complain; something to look forward to!



Beautiful carpets of violets. And a suspicious observer.



Then, for people who are always asking me what leeks look like in the wild, a series of shots, to try and give the context, as well as some detailed shots in scale.

-Anti-V, happily contemplating dinner....

A Hankering for Curry...

Now that our mini-melt, the two-day 'heat wave' is over, and we're back to
chillier temps, I was getting the urge to make a curry. (Not that I require
winter to give me an urge for a curry….)

As it happened, on a trip to town and the grocery store, there were some
'scratch and dent' eggplants. So, that inspired a pan of moussaka, which fed
us two evenings, with a Greek salad and some roast potatoes. (And some more
portions into the freezer. Yea!)
But I still had a little bit of eggplant left over.

When I still worked in Toronto, back at the Atrium on Bay, there had been a
really lovely restaurant there, (one that actually seemed to be surviving
and successful!) possibly called A Taste of India. One of its most enjoyable
features was that it served two luncheon buffets, one of which was
vegetarian. Now I'm as carnivorous as you can get, but have both friends and
family who aren't. And it was really nice to have an occasional place to
meet for a lunch, where my guest wasn't reduced to a grilled cheese
sandwich!
One of the nicest dishes they served (and they served many many nice ones)
was an eggplant curry. I've been forever searching for a recipe that would
allow me to recreate that, or even the merest hint of it.
So I dug up yet one more recipe on the Internet to try. And that, with a
basic curry made with pork, and a nifty recipe from my brand new and
delightful cookbook, Mangoes and Curry Leaves, Culinary Travels Through the Great
Subcontinent, by Jeremy Alford and Naomi Duguid, to allow me to use my
scratch and dent green beans…, made for a quite yummy supper.

Baingan Bharta (Eggplant Curry)

* 1 large eggplant
* 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
* 1 teaspoon cumin seeds
* 1 medium onion, thinly sliced
* 1 tablespoon ginger garlic paste
* 1 tablespoon curry powder
* 1 tomato, diced
* 1/2 cup plain yogurt
* 1 fresh jalapeno chile pepper, finely chopped
* 1 teaspoon salt
* 1/4 bunch cilantro, finely chopped

1. Preheat oven to 450 degrees F (230 degrees C).
2. Place eggplant on a medium baking sheet. Bake 20 to 30 minutes in the
preheated oven, until tender. Remove from heat, cool, peel, and chop.
3. Heat oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Mix in cumin seeds and
onion. Cook and stir until onion is tender.
4. Mix ginger garlic paste, curry powder, and tomato into the saucepan,
and cook about 1 minute. Stir in yogurt. Mix in eggplant and jalapeno
pepper, and season with salt. Cover, and cook 10 minutes over high heat.
Remove cover, reduce heat to low, and continue cooking about 5 minutes.
Garnish with cilantro to serve.

I scaled it back, because I only had a half an eggplant left, and have had
some not too appealing previous attempts at eggplant curry, and didn't want
large quantities of leftovers in that case. I also decided to use some of a
leftover tin of diced tomatoes in place of the fresh tomato. Instead of a
chile pepper, I think I just added a shake of cayenne. (Now I'm reminded
that I have some Thai red chile paste that might have worked. Oh well. I do
tend to try and make milder curries, since Darrell's not too thrilled by
spicy food. And I find I don't eat things as hot now as I once did, any
way.)

It wasn't the eggplant curry I'd been hoping to make, but it was a very nice
one all the same, and I think I'll be trying it again sometime.

Nepali Green Bean-Sesame Salad

1 pound green beans or yard-long beans
3 Tbsp sesame seeds
2 Tbsp peanut oil or vegetable oil
2 green cayenne chilis, seeded and sliced into rings
½ tsp salt
2 to 3 Tbsp fresh lemon juice, to taste
Chopped coriander leaves or several mint leaves, minced (optional)

Cook the beans in a large pot of boiling salted water until just tender and
still firm. Drain, refresh in cold water for a moment, and then drain again.
Trim the beans and slice on a diagonal into ½ inch lengths. Set aside in a
bowl.
Heat a dry heavy skillet over medium-high heat. Add the sesame seeds, lower
the heat to medium, and dry roast, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon,
until lightly touched with gold, and aromatic. Transfer to a spice/coffee
grinder and grind to a coarse powder, then set aside.
Heat the oil in a small heavy skillet over medium-high heat. Toss in the
chopped chiles and stir-fry for about 30 seconds, or until lightly touched
with brown. Pour the chiles and hot oil over the beans and toss. Sprinkle on
the ground sesame seeds and salt and toss. Add the lemon juice and toss.
Serve warm or at room temperature. If you wish, add chopped coriander or
mint to the salad just before serving.

This was a real winner! I'm definitely going to make this one again. It's
nice to find some accompaniments that are not too labour intensive, or it
becomes real chaos as I try to get everything ready for the same moment. I
tend to do that way too much!

And it will make just another interesting way to serve beans. I find that
when beans are in season, I always end up buying a lot of them, and it's
nice to find a couple new ways to use them. This had a nice international
flavour to it, without it seeming out of place with other menus.

And not having a fresh Cayenne chili (or indeed ever having seen one, and
certainly not in this neighbourhood), and being too lazy to rummage in the
depths of the freezer for the little Ziploc of finely chopped frozen
jalapenos that I have, (good idea that, I must do it again. Simpler than
trying to pickle them, and is actually proving to be something handy to
have,) instead I used a few dried chili flakes, and a little dusting of
cayenne powder.
But the aroma of the toasted sesame seeds in my mortar and pestle was
heavenly, and the flavour in the salad was great. Definitely a keeper!

Anti-V

Breaking with Tradition?

Or maybe just not going where habit wants to take you?

For a bunch of my adult years, I've been trying to create some Christmas
traditions. I had some a couple of decades ago. Admittedly they were simple
post-University ones. Not major hand-on-able traditions. And since I don't
have kids, and the cats don't care, I don't suppose I really need a legacy
to pass along.

Instead, my Christmas traditions since the 80's seem to have become more of
a struggle with time, made complex by my paranoia with winter. When I worked
in the advertising agency, Christmas was synonymous with year end (although
the varying clients had year ends scattered throughout the year) and usually
merely meant more, more, more in terms of last minute work. The more
responsibility I had in the department, the more frantic that last minute
chaos became.
And while I'd moved to Ontario with my own 'tweak' on Christmas
entertaining, which involved some festivities (and food) on Solstice, I
started to run into competition for the date. So, that fell by the wayside.
But because I was so busy, eventually, with the agency job, I got over
worrying about that.

And when I got married, I sort of envisioned that we'd start our own little
round of traditions. Except that at first they involved fitting in with our
other friends and hobbies. Which was okay. But when we moved away from the
city, that fell by the wayside too.

And every Christmas we end up trying to coordinate some get-together with
his family, but that involves enough brothers that it's seldom concrete or
planned very far ahead. (And is at the very teeth-clenchiest time of the
driving year!)

So, really the only Christmas tradition we seem to cling to, is
food-related. And even there, we're negotiable. Some years I've cooked a
duck. (We have a real fondness for a duck!) More often than not, we have NOT
done a turkey. Until recently, there weren't a lot of turkeys that were
two-person sized. And while I don't mind leftovers, in fact, I could get a
lot of enjoyment out of them, most turkeys just seem way too huge.
But chicken or turkey, if that's what we have, we've always stuck to our
favourite route: sage stuffing with nuts and raisins, and now cranberries,
gravy, mashed potatoes, and brussel sprouts. [sigh. When I think of how much
Dad loved brussel sprouts when we were kids, and how often they were served,
and how much I hated them!!!]

I suggested this year that maybe we should be wild and crazy. And even if I
roasted a chicken, if maybe we should just be untraditional, and do
something different.... (I can always do it again, the way we're used to,
for New Year's!)

I think, when I started the conversation, he got a bit nervous... but when
I finished my proposal, he seemed up for it.

It's hard though. Hard to break from habit. I thought to myself, hey, maybe
I can track down enough info about that turkey that Jed Bartlett was cooking
on West Wing, that he called the Butterball Hotline about. Maybe I could do
that! I thought that surely in an internet search I'd find the recipe. Or
someone's interpretation of the recipe. Nope. A few incomplete quotes was
all I could find. Then I thought, no problem, I'll watch the episode, and
make notes of everything said on the subject. Nope. Season 2. We've loaned
seasons 2 to 6 to a best friend. But not one who just lives down the street.
(Not that you get many friends living down the street when you live in the
country!)

Anyway, I got a small turkey. (So small, actually that all the recipe info
I can track down doesn't even recognize it as a real turkey! Recipes for
cooking a turkey BREAST speak in comparative terms!)
And I thought I'd brine it. And do a sausage stuffing with cornbread.
(Maybe next year I can actually get Jed Bartlett's recipe....) And make a
different kind of gravy, with rosemary and sherry. And mashed sweet
potatoes.

Of course, this is weird and scary and will probably make it an even
whackier Christmas than I usually have.
But there's always New Year's. I can make it the correct way on New Year's
if I need to. We like roast chicken. It won't be a hardship!

But it does feel a bit like preparing to jump off a cliff! That's West
Wing-like....

anti-v

and still more on Green Tomatoes

Because I don't type very fast, and the cat keeps coming and wanting to
cling, and I'm an even worse typist with a cat balanced precariously on one
shoulder and down my arm, which I then have to hold out horizontally, to
keep her from sliding off and tearing the flesh from my bones with her
desperate limpet claws....

Green Tomato & Apple Chutney

3 LB completely green tomatoes
2 LB firm, tart apples
2 cups raisins
1 1/2 cups diced onions
2 tsp. finely minced garlic
2 cups (packed) light brown sugar
1 cup granulated sugar
2 tsp. pickling or other fine non-iodized salt
1 1/2 cups cider vinegar, plus a little more if needed
3 to 4 Tbsp. finely minced fresh ginger, to taste
1 1/2 Tbsp. mustard seed
2 tsp. ground coriander
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
1 tsp. finely minced fresh hot pepper, 1/2 tsp. dried red pepper flakes, or
1/4 tsp. (or to taste) Cayenne pepper

1. Rinse and drain the tomatoes. Cut out the stem scars and any blemishes
and cut the tomatoes into 1/2 inch chunks. You should have about 8 cups.
Place the tomatoes in a preserving pan.

2. Peel, core, and cut the apples into 1/2 inch chunks; add them to the
tomatoes. Add the raisins, onion, garlic, sugars, salt and vinegar. Mix the
ingredients well and bring the mixture to a boil over medium-high heat.
Reduce the heat and boil the mixture slowly, uncovered, stirring it often,
for 30 minutes.

3. Add the ginger, mustard seed, coriander, cinnamon, and hot pepper. Return
to a boil, adjust the heat, and continue to cook the chutney uncovered at a
slow boil, stirring it often, until it holds a mounded shape when lifted in
a spoon. Taste it carefully, remembering that the balance of flavours will
improve as the chutney mellows in the jar; add, if needed, more vinegar,
sugar, and/or salt.

4. Ladle the boiling hot chutney into hot, clean pint or half-pint canning
jars, leaving 1/4 inch of headspace. Seal the jars with new two-piece
canning lids according to manufacturer's directions and process for 10
minutes in a boiling water bath.
Cool, label, and store the jars. Let the chutney mellow for a few weeks
before serving it with a curry, cold meat, or any other dish needing an
uplifting accompaniment. [I like that phrase!]

More Recipes for Green Tomatoes

Green Tomato, Apple, & Pear Mincemeat

(Straight from the jar, a pint will fill an 8-inch pie adequately. With the
addition of diced fresh apple, some nuts, perhaps a few snipped dried
apricot, and an added tot of rum or brandy, a pint will fill a 9-inch pie.)

3 quarts coarsely chopped completely green tomatoes, scrubbed and trimmed of
stem scars
1 Tbsp. non-iodized salt
1 1/2 quarts diced, peeled, and cored firm, tart apples, the firmer the
better
1 quart diced, peeled and cored firm, slightly underripe pears
2 1/2 cups dark seedless raisins
Grated zest and chopped pulp of 1 large or 2 medium oranges
Grated zest of 1 1/2 large lemons
1/2 cup cider vinegar
1/2 cup undiluted frozen apple concentrate, thawed
3 1/2 cups (packed) light brown sugar
2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp. ground allspice
1/2 tsp. ground cloves
1/2 tsp. ground ginger
1/2 cup dark rum, preferably Jamaican

1. Stir the chopped tomatoes and salt together, then scrape them into a
colander and let them drain for two hours.

2.Combine the drained tomatoes with the rest of the ingredients, except the
rum, in a preserving pan. Bring the mixture to a boil over medium-high heat.
Lower the heat and cook the mincemeat, uncovered, stirring it often, until
it is thick enough to mound in a spoon when a sample is dipped up, about 1
hour. Be careful to stir often enough to prevent sticking toward the end of
the cooking.

3.Stir in the rum and ladle the boiling-hot mincemeat into hot, clean pint
canning jars, leaving 1/2 inch of headspace; remove any air bubbles. Seal
the jars with new two-piece caning lids, according to the manufacturer's
directions, and process them in a boiling-water bath for 25 minutes. Cool,
label, and store the jars. Let the mincemeat mellow for a month before using
it.

Alternatively: Store the mincemeat, covered but unsealed, in refrigerator.

Yield: about 8 pints

Green Tomatoes

I didn't manage to get any tomatoes planted this year, so I don't have green
tomatoes to deal with, but Karen does.

Years and years ago I had access to green tomatoes, and made this chutney.
In fact, it was one of the reasons I ended up special-ordering a copy of the
cook book for myself. And a few years ago a friend had more than enough
green tomatoes in her garden to give me some, and I made it again.

Green Tomato Chutney
(It's a British cookbook, and I'm useless for spontaneous understanding of
measurements, so I'll include everything they list.)

4 LB (1.8 kg) green tomatoes, washed and chopped
1 1/2 LB (700 g) shallots or onions, peeled and chopped
1 LB (450 g) cooking apples, peeled, cored, and chopped
1 pint (575/600 ml) vinegar
8 red chilies
1 oz (25 g) dried root ginger
8 oz (225 g) seedless raisins or dates, chopped
2 tsp salt
1 LB (450 g) sugar

Put the chopped tomatoes, shallots or onions and the apples in a large,
heavy-based pan with half the vinegar. Bring to a boil, then simmer gently
for about 30 minutes until tender.
Tie the chilies and root ginger in a muslin bag, bruise with a hammer, and
add to the pan with the raisins or chopped dates. Cook, stirring from time
to time until mixture thickens, after about 1 hour.
Add the salt, sugar and the rest of the vinegar, stirring well until the
sugar dissolves. Continue cooking, pressing the bag of spices occasionally
with a wooden spoon, until the mixture is thick. Remove the muslin bag
before potting and sealing. Leave to mature for 6 weeks.

Better Living Through Science?

I'd had an idea to stretch some leftover curry for tonight's dinner, and was
thinking of making some pakoras, using a new concept I'd had, and utilising
some tinned chickpeas in the batter... (Up here, we do NOT have exotic
flours for such purposes!)
And I'd discovered, lo and behold, I had no tinned chickpeas. Which
actually surprised me, because for some inscrutable reason they've ended up
on Darrell's regular grocery radar....

On the very slight offhand chance, I thought I'd check the supplies in the
trailer. No chickpeas. What I did find, and hastily offer up to the pond
fish, was a bag with two cheese-flavoured English muffins, dated from
August. *NOT* the kind of thing one thinks of as a long-term storable
staple!

The scary thing was that not only were they still squeezably "fresh", they
weren't mouldy, either.

Not that I'd have dared to eat them...I only hope it doesn't kill my fish!

vandy