Summer Sky: Learning as I go

My new favorite cookie

I started this post in early January, but never published it. Cookies in January? hmmm.

Sparkly sugar optional.

I didn't publish that post because I figured you (and I) ate a few too many cookies in December. Maybe you also baked too many, and you were a little...over cookies. You were all about the New Year, and Taking Vigorous Walks, and Eating Mindfully.

Well, a little time has passed, just enough that it's safe again to talk about cookies.

In early December, I started to think about "the" cookie I'd be baking to give to some friends. You see, each December I join some dear mom buddies of mine in an 8-way cookie swap. We make our exchange at a big annual potluck party with the dads and the kids and homemade eggnog and lots of extra cookies for dessert.

In the past, I've leafed through favorite cookbooks and consulted my swap partners to choose the cookie recipe I'll use. One year I made lemon sugar cookies; another year it was chocolate gingerbread.

This year, it came to me suddenly one day as I stood in the kitchen: I wanted a fudgy peanut butter cookie. Not a chocolate chip peanut butter cookie (which is yummy in its own way) but rather a dark cocoa cookie with a hint of peanut butter.

Now, I wish I could say I experimented with my favorite peanut butter cookie recipe (Better Homes and Gardens--perfection IMO) but instead, I went straight to my favorite cookie cookbook, opened the chapter on Nut Cookies, and there they were: Peanut Butter Fudge Cookies.

These cookies call for three kinds of chocolate--unsweetened; American-style cocoa; and chopped milk chocolate chips. Despite all that chocolate, the peanut butter flavor still comes through. And, although kids love these cookies, they are not too sweet.

I caution you that it's tricky to bake these, because you can't tell if they're browning: they're already dark to begin with. If you bake them too long (like I did for the cookies I traded at the swap!!! argh), they become so tough you can barely bite into them. They should be melt-in-your-mouth consistency, like a soft butter cookie. So, do yourself a favor and bake a tiny sample batch before you really get cranking.

These make wonderful icebox cookies. I made an enormous batch in December and rolled them into short 7 inch logs. Every now and then I pulled one out, set it on the counter for about 15 minutes, then sliced the dough into 1/4 inch thick cookies and baked them. And by the middle of January, we'd eaten them all. Time to take a Vigorous Walk.

Fudgy Peanut Butter Cookies
(Adapted from The All American Cookie Cookbook)

2 oz unsweetened chocolate, coarsely chopped
2 1/2 cups all-purpose white flour
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1 cup plus 2T peanut butter
1 1/2 cups light brown sugar (packed)
1/3 cup sugar
1/3 cup unsweetened American style cocoa*
1 cup unsalted butter (slightly soft)
2 large eggs
2 tsp vanilla extract
6 oz. milk chocolate chips, finely chopped

Pre-heat the oven to 350 deg F.

Gently melt unsweetened chocolate using a double-boiler or microwave.

In a bowl, stir flour, baking soda, and salt; set aside. In a larger bowl, beat melted chocolate, peanut butter, brown sugar, sugar, and cocoa with a mixer until blended. Add the butter and beat until smooth. Add the eggs and vanilla and beat until fluffy, about 2 minutes. Beat in flour mixture, then the chopped chocolate chips, until evenly blended. Place dough in the fridge until it firms up a bit.

At this point, I rolled the dough into "logs"--mine were about 6 or 7 inches long and and 1 1/2 in. thick--and wrapped the ones I didn't need to bake right away in wax paper. The logs could be stored in the fridge or freezer (depending on your plans) before baking.

As I mentioned, bake a small sample batch of 2 cookies before baking up all the dough. Try baking them for 8 minutes and then cooling them completely before sampling--this will give you an idea of how long to bake the rest. I found that baking them 10 minutes sometimes resulted in a super hard cookie once they'd cooled well, so you want to err on the side of less rather than more.

* for my international friends, I tried to figure out if you can use Dutch-style cocoa instead; you can try it, but be cautious; American cocoa has more acid, and in recipes (like this one) with baking soda, the author may be expecting the acid in the American cocoa to react with the baking soda as a leavening (making the cookies rise).

Before I forget

Tart cherry season is pretty much over where we live.  Three weeks ago, my friend S and I managed to take the kids and pick a few, but there weren't very many left and the orchard said it would likely be the last day for picking.

Do you see any cherries on these trees? Me neither.

I used those cherries to make cherry hand pies (inspired by Amy's rhubarb handpies from two years ago). I used a pie dough recipe from another source that will remain nameless and oh dear, was it salty! Still, my visiting sister and her husband happily gobbled them up (with whipped cream).

Then I found some more tart cherries at the farmer's market (my new favorite, the Columbia Pike Market), that came from Pennsylvania.

Do you see any cherries in this picture? Me neither--those are all plums. But I had to sneak in a photo of that market somehow.

But that was nearly two weeks ago.  I saved enough (and they kept so well) that I made a cherry pie for the Fourth of July. Hey, that rhymes.

The second pie sealed the deal. My new favorite cherry pie filling (which always requires tart cherries) comes from Pie Every Day, a sweet little book that my friend Phyllis gave to D and I as a wedding present (together with a very lovely pie plate).

I'm afraid this recipe will confirm the impression that I always cook with alcohol (and then feed it to my kids).  But this time, my conscience was clear; the adults couldn't get enough of this pie, but the kids stuck with vanilla ice cream.

Cherry Pie Filling (adapted from Pie Every Day by Pat Willard).

Make and roll out your favorite double 9-inch pie crust.

1 1/4 cups sugar (or more, to taste)

1/3 cup flour

pinch of salt

2 to 3 teaspoons of your favorite fruit or nut liqueur (Pat calls for Kirsch, but so far, I've used Amaretto, Creme de Cassis, and Grand Marnier, all with delicious success).

4 cups of fresh, pitted tart cherries

2 T butter (optional, for dabbing on top of the cherry filling just before you put the top crust on).

Mix the dry ingredients.  Prepare the cherries; add the liqueur and then toss with the dry ingredients, mixing thoroughly.  Roll out your bottom crust and set into a 9-inch pie plate; pour in filling.  Dot with butter (if desired) and then roll out the top crust and place over the filling.  Seal the edges and vent the crust (cutting small slashes into the top crust near the center).

Bake for 40 minutes at 425 degrees.  (I like to cover the edges of the crust with foil or a special tin cover made just for that purpose after about 25 minutes of baking.)

P.S. We are visiting the tart cherry capital of the U.S. very soon...and it's a bit north of here, so we have at least one more pie on our horizon.

Fireflies and strawberry ice cream.

Hunting for the first fireflies, and eating homemade strawberry ice cream.  I guess there's no denying it; summer is here.

 

The other night, just as the sun was going down, we came home from a gathering of friends.  As we entered the garden, N and E spotted the first flickers and flashes, and they were off.  D, who moments before had been anxious to get the kids upstairs, sat down on the porch; without saying a word, we paused to take it all in.

It would be fun to say that we celebrated by eating homemade strawberry ice cream, but that happened earlier, at a barbecue.  The version we shared with our friends was quite good; with a little more tweaking, we now have our go-to strawberry ice cream.

This recipe is based on the one in my fall back cookbook, The New Basics (which is definitely not 'new" any more).  It calls for a custard base; if you find that as challenging as I do, and you'd rather not ruin lots of eggs, use the trick recommended in the cookbook and make the custard in the microwave as described below.  You'll find yourself making ice cream every week, and Michael Pollan will understand.

The distinction of this recipe is the touch of creme de cassis (black currant liqueur).  It was a hit with kids and adults alike--it's especially good with freshly baked brownies.

Homemade Strawberry Ice Cream (Adapted from The New Basics by Julee Rosso and Sheila Lukins)

Custard base:
1 cup heavy cream
1 cup whole milk
4 egg yolks (we save and freeze our egg whites for waffles, angel food cake, and omelettes)
1/2 cup sugar

Strawberry ribbon:
2 cups sliced strawberries (somewhat more than 1 pint of whole berries)
1/4 cup sugar

Flavoring:  creme de cassis  (I prefer 2 T, but the original recipe calls for 1/4 cup)

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To make the strawberry ribbon:

Slice the strawberries into bite-sized pieces until you have 2 cups' worth.  This should be somewhat more than a pint of whole strawberries.  (The original recipe calls for a pint, but that was a deemed a little skimpy by our friends!) 

Combine with 1/4 cup sugar in a small saucepan; heat just to boiling and then remove it from the stove and stir.  Cool, then store in the refrigerator.

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To make the custard:

In an electric mixer on medium high speed, cream the egg yolks and 1/2 cup of sugar until well-blended.  (Keep the mixture in the mixing bowl; you'll be using the mixer it to combine with the hot milk.)

There are two ways to take the next step: the microwave method, or the stove top method.  I've done it both ways, and I've found it's much harder to screw up using the microwave.

 

1. Microwave method.

Combine the milk and cream in a 2 quart microwave-safe dish.  Cook uncovered for 2 minutes in a carousel microwave.  (If yours is less powerful and doesn't have a turntable, like mine, cook 4 minutes, rotating the dish midway.)

 

With the mixer running on low, slowly pour the hot milk into the eggs.  If you add it too quickly, the eggs will curdle and you'll have scrambled eggs.

Pour the mixture back into the 2 quart microwave dish.  Cook in the microwave until it "coats the back of the spoon," which is 2 minutes for a high-powered microwave, and as much as 8 minutes in a low-powered one like mine.  As you cook the custard, check every 2 minutes and rotate the dish if you don't have a carousel; do not overcook.  The custard (and not the foam on top) should coat the back of a spoon when it's ready.

 

 

2.  Stove top method. 

 

Ideally, you will use a double boiler and a candy thermometer for this method.

 

Combine the milk and cream in the top of your double boiler; cook on the stove over medium heat until just steaming--don't let it get too hot.

 

With the mixer running on low, slowly pour the hot milk into the eggs.  If you add it too quickly, the eggs will curdle and you'll have scrambled eggs.

 

Pour the mixture back into the top of your double boiler.  Heat the mixture over boiling water, stirring constantly. If you're using a candy thermometer, keep checking to make sure you're below 180 degrees.  My custard doesn't thicken until it reaches 180, but you may find it thickens before it reaches that temperature.

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Your custard is thick enough when it "coats the back of a wooden spoon." Don't be confused by the foamy mixture which is thin and runny. 

 

Take your cooked mixture and set in a bowl of ice water.  Stir for a couple of minutes and then chill the mixture in the fridge. I've found I must chill ice cream bases at least 5 hours or more--overnight is best--or the ice cream just won't set firmly enough in the ice cream maker.

 

After the custard base is sufficiently chilled, stir in the strawberries and creme de cassis.  Pour into your ice cream maker and follow the machine's instructions.

 

We store our ice cream in loaf pans lined with parchment paper.

 

Chop, chop.

It feels strange to shift from the suffering of Haiti to the comforts of home, but right now this is our reality.  We live in gratitude for what we have, ever mindful that others do without.

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It's been a while since I've done some serious cooking, beyond the old standbys.  In late December, a spot suddenly opened up at the CSA where we've been wait-listed for a whole year.

We get the medium box (a mix of vegetables with one or two fruits) delivered to our door (!) by the same farm that delivers our milk. For our family of four it's just enough to eat heartily for a week.

In the winter, many of the vegetables are (to quote the CSA) "from a little further away," but the vegetable varieties (like the burgundy carrots) are beyond what's at the grocery store.

I can't tell you how much I appreciate this new-to-us bounty. We'll always go to the farmers' market, but having someone choose vegetables for us really helps me out with meal planning. 

The other night, I was in need of a new recipe for a whole head of cauliflower. So, I opened Love Soup by Anna Thomas and found her cauliflower bisque with buttered breadcrumbs. It's a vegetarian cookbook Amy Karol recommended and I couldn't buy it fast enough after checking it out of the library.

Each soup calls for a vegetable broth base (she has several versions). Thomas lets you used canned broth instead, but why bother? You can easily make her basic root broth in an hour, with only 10 minutes of labor; I recommend putting a gallon of water in a stockpot on the stove before you chop the vegetables, so it's ready to simmer when you are.

I used 6 or 7 medium-sized turnips, two bunches of kale, 2 onions, several stalks of celery, 5 parsnips, 2 potatoes, a head of peeled garlic, and 5 carrots. (It's a great way to use the tops and stems of veggies; I'm going to start saving them for stock.) I didn't have fresh parsley, rutabaga, or leeks, so I used extra parsnips, onions, celery, and some dried parsley instead.

Add a bay leaf, a teaspoon of thyme, a few peppercorns, and you're in business! Just simmer for 45 minutes. The vegetables are then strained out—their flavor and nutrition gone—and they can go straight to a compost pile. One batch of broth made enough for 3 soup recipes, so I froze the leftovers in two batches.

4 cups of this broth go into Love Soup's cauliflower bisque. The soup is finished with a tad of goat cheese or cream cheese (stir until melted). I only added the cheese to the soup we were about to eat—extra soup freezes better without dairy and you can add the cheese to the leftovers just before serving.

D could not stop raving. I think this soup holds the record for the most comments from him in one meal. I liked it just fine, but it did make me realize I had been in a bit of a cooking rut. Oh well--onward and upward!

Scenes from Halloween.

Friday night I finished carving the pumpkin. 'Round these parts, you can't be putting out a carved pumpkin too early.  It just turns into squirrel food if you do.

 

This year, E chose to be a cowgirl.  The other day, I was thinking about how the 'cowgirl costume' is itself iconic--we all know what it's supposed to look like, circa 1957.

I found a cute thrifted vest at my favorite local shop (the vest once belonged to the store owner's daughter, who keeps her own second-hand store next door).  The bandanna was a party favor, the shirt was a hand-me-down, she wore last year's skirt, the boots were borrowed, but the hat was new.  

E was thrilled. Her favorite moment: the "girl who likes boy things" at school whispered in her ear that her costume was "cool."

 

N asked to be a mouse.

Why yes, I did make that costume. I have the absolutely filthy house to prove it. I washed one small load of laundry over two whole weeks and we ate a lot of pasta, soup, and sausages.  You get the picture.

It should not have taken me anywhere nearly as long as it did. Let's just say, as I jokingly said to my husband, that I sewed about six or seven mouse costumes out of 1 1/2 yards of fabric. Well, it felt that way.

I confess: I love how the ears turned out. I couldn't bring myself to use the pattern's teddy-bear ears.

 

D's parents came over the afternoon of Halloween to check out the costumes. While they entertained the kids, I made pumpkin-seed brittle. It is delicious and I've been eating it instead of the kids' candy.

I used this recipe except that I suggest 1/8 cup honey, 2/3 cup brown sugar, and 4 T butter (half a stick!) per 2/3 cup of pumpkin seeds.  (We had a very large pumpkin, and it had about 1 1/2 cups of seeds.)  Just try not to eat it until you get a slightly queasy feeling, like yours truly.

First, as the recipe suggests, I soaked the pumpkin seeds in water for about 10 minutes. Then I spread them on a cookie sheet to dry in a 200 degree oven. I let them sit in there for nearly 30 minutes, because they just weren't dry until then. 

Then I cranked up the oven to 400 degrees and toasted the pumpkin seeds for 15 minutes. You might want to toast them longer if they aren't brown enough. Toss the seeds at least once midway so that they are evenly browned. I then tossed them in a smidge of butter and kosher salt, just enough to lightly coat them.

Next, I melted the butter and then added the honey and brown sugar. I chose to use less honey than the recipe called for because I wanted more brown sugar flavor.  My guess is the honey works like corn syrup (found in more traditional brittle recipes) by hardening the caramel into candy.

I cooked the mixture on medium for about five minutes, without stirring. You have to watch it closely, or it will burn.  Then I stirred in the pumpkin seeds, cooked for a minute longer, and then spread them out on a cookie sheet. (Butter the cookie sheet if you don't have a Silpat.)

 

 

 

One local summer: week 7.

 

Like a lot of other people, I've been eagerly awaiting tomato season and it's officially here. Besides eating them fresh, we enjoy baking them into our favorite savory summer tart. The tart is full of different kinds of easily obtainable, local, fresh vegetables.

Oh, there's one more veggie in there. Celery.  Before the ols challenge, I never knew you couldn't just drop by our farmers' market in July and buy celery. I had no clue celery requires a colder climate than ours, and is, apparently, a fickle plant to grow. Finding a local version, I came realize, was probably not going to happen.

I really wanted to make this tomato tart as part of an all-local dinner. So what to substitute? Swiss chard stalks! The first swiss chard I've ever bought. As I was considering my options at the farmers' market, this one presented itself, and in this recipe, it works great as a substitute for celery.

 

It's a little hard to tell the swiss chard stalks from the onion in this pic, but it's in there, looking rather celery-like.

 

To round out our meal, we cooked fresh corn on the cob and tossed some greens with a fresh honey-mustard vinaigrette (local honey, local mustard--McCutcheon's--and local vinegar) using a recipe straight from The Joy of Cooking.

 

This tomato tart is based on a luscious one from the trusty Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone. It's a super easy two-step recipe (you make the crust, then the filling) but because the veggies stew for an hour and you need to pre-bake the crust, you need a couple of hours (with lots of down time) to do it right. Don't bother buying your pie crust from the store, and skip the step of rolling the crust--just press it straight into the tart plate.

I used 100% stone-ground red whole wheat flour from the Burwell-Morgan Mill, and it gave the crust a nutty flavor that complemented the filling very well. This tart is also delicious as leftovers, although the crust gets a little soggy after the first day.

 

Savory Tomato Tart (adapted from Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone)

To make the dough:

1 cup plus 2 tablespoons white all-purpose flour or 100% whole wheat flour

1/4 tsp salt

1/2 cup butter (1 stick), room temp, cut into small pieces

3 tablespoons of ice water

(the cookbook calls for sugar, even for the savory tart, but I omitted it)

Stir flour and salt in a bowl, then work the butter into the flour with your fingers until you get fine crumbs (but short of being smooth). Stir in the water, a tablespoon at a time, continuing to work the dough until it just pulls together. Wrap and place in the fridge for 5 minutes (the cookbook says 15, if you'd like to roll your crust).

Press the crust evenly into a 9-inch tart plate (unless you've rolled your dough). (Make sure the dough is even and not too thin--but you do want it to come up at least 3/4" to 1" high (thicker on the bottom than the sides) to hold all the filling. I prefer a 1.5"* deep tart plate because my "regular" tart plate nearly didn't hold the filling the last time [you can press the crust so it rises above the tart plate in order to hold the filling in, per the cookbook]). 

Place the tart pan in the freezer for at least 15 minutes.

Pre-bake your shell while the veggies for the filling are cooking (see next recipe). Bake the tart crust in a 400 degree pre-heated oven for about 25 minutes. (The tart also bakes at 400 degrees so you might want to leave the oven on if it takes a while to heat up again.)

To make the filling:

Heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a pot. Add:

2 small swiss chard stalks (or celery stalks), chopped

1 carrot, finely diced

1 1/2 pounds of tomatoes, coarsely chopped

1 onion, finely diced

1 minced garlic clove

2 tablespoons chopped parsley

5 basil leaves

You'll also separately need for later: 3 well-beaten eggs

Heat the vegetables to a low boil and reduce the heat to low. Cook on low for one hour. Stir occasionally. (The recipe says to add water if it seems dry, but that's never happened to me.)

Puree the veggies. (Please, if you've never tried to puree hot liquids in a blender or food processor, BE CAREFUL. Volcanic explosions may ensue. I prefer to use an immersion blender and puree it right in the pot.)

Season the puree with salt and pepper. (The recipe calls for at least 1/2 tsp salt but I've found that's too little. I'll go out on a limb and say 1 tsp, plus lots of fresh ground pepper.)

Next, stir your beaten eggs into the puree.  Pour the filling into the crust and bake in the 400 degree oven until a toothpick comes out clean, 25 to 35 minutes (I typically have to cook it the full 35 or even slightly longer--you will notice the middle becomes firm instead of soupy).

Cool at least 10 minutes (or more) before serving.

*corrected from first posting

 

All things blackberry.

I mentioned that I had a plan to foil the long lines at the berry stand at the farmers' market. It did not involve setting my alarm clock an hour earlier. Instead, we went directly to the source.

Last weekend, on the way home from visiting grandma and grandpa (D's parents), we stopped by Westmoreland Berry Farm.  Dear D (my husband) was reminiscing about the gossip in Westmoreland County when the farm was just getting started--who were these folks? That was over 25 years ago.

 

We spent a happy hour picking blackberries--the weather was unusually cool.  The blackberries there are huge.

We picked enough to fill two large buckets. I'm not really sure how much we picked--two or three gallons, or more? But enough to make me feel pretty smug when I saw how much one measley pint was selling for at the market yesterday.

 

As usual, my mind is reeling at the possibilities. Jam, of course. But also blackberry syrup for pancakes. Blackberry soda--this looked fun and funky, a riff on all the homemade sodas out there, with a twist.  Blackberry cobbler, with peaches.

 

First on the list, however, was blackberry gelato.  I thought I'd try to make gelato--instead of ice cream--on the theory that the berry flavor might be more intense.

 

This is pretty intense. The blackberry lovers in our family--D, N, and I--adore this stuff. If you are wondering about the differences between gelato and regular ice cream, it has to do with the proportions between the milk, cream, and eggs (gelato has more milk and more eggs).

As a base, I used this recipe for gelato crema, which has no other flavorings (such as vanilla). My first attempt turned straight into scrambled eggs, or I would have made the plain crema as well to go along with the blackberry version.  To avoid ruining a whole dozen eggs, I turned to Cookwise for help and found the techniques I needed.

 

Blackberry Gelato (adapted from Pamela Sheldon Johns' custard gelato, with a nod to Cookwise)

 

2 pints of blackberries

 

2 1/4 cups whole milk

 

Pinch of salt

 

1 cup sugar (1/3 more than the crema recipe)

 

6 egg yolks

 

bowl of ice water to chill the custard while still in the pan

 

2/3 cup heavy cream--to be added with the puree after the custard is made

 

Puree the blackberries in a blender or food processor. Push the puree through a strainer to get rid of the seeds. Set aside the puree.  You can also delay this step until you're almost ready to make ice cream (and the custard base is chilled)--that might make the most sense.

 

Prepare the custard. As mentioned, I screwed this up royally the first time, and I've successfully made custard any number of times before. Shirley O. Corriher enlightened me: use a double boiler. Use a good candy thermometer, if you have one. Stir constantly, and they do mean constantly. You are trying to get the custard to as close as 180 degrees as possible without going over. I actually found that hard to do with the double boiler (to get the temp up high), but better safe than sorry.

 

Okay, prepare the custard. Heat the milk over medium heat until bubbles form on the edges (Sheldon Johns) or until just steaming (Corriher). Watch closely--you do not want to let it get too hot.

 

 Meanwhile, in a blender or processor, blend the eggs and sugar until thick and smooth.  With your blender running, very, very slowly add the hot milk. If you add it too quickly, you will curdle the eggs.

 

Pour the mixture into the top of your double boiler.  Heat the mixture over boiling water, stirring constantly. If you have your thermometer, keep checking to make sure you are below 180.  Corriher says the custard will thicken between 160 and 180 degrees, and there is no exact number. I found the custard didn't thicken until it had reached 180, which fits with recipes I've read elsewhere.

 

Your custard is thick enough when it "coats the back of a wooden spoon." Don't be confused by the foamy mixture which initially coats the spoon just fine but is still runny.  Pull the pot off the heat and set in the bowl of ice water.  Stir for a couple of minutes and then chill the mixture in the fridge. I've found I must chill ice cream bases at least 5 hours or more--overnight is best--or the ice cream just won't set firmly enough in the ice cream maker.

 

After the custard base is sufficiently chilled, stir the puree into the custard base.  Next, make whipped cream from the heavy cream, and fold it into the mixture. Pour into your ice cream maker and follow the machine's instructions.

 

 

One local summer, week 4

A week ago, at the farmers' market, Westmoreland Berry Farm had brought in the big guns: blueberries, blackberries, raspberries, cherries, and even peaches. That day it was pouring rain, but the line was 30 people long, and you could see their worried eyes scanning to see if there was going to be enough left for them when they reached the head of the line. I was just trying to assemble my OLS menu for week 3 without getting drenched, so the berries would just have to wait.

The line was still that long this past Saturday at their stand, which should be no surprise, because it was a lovely sunny day. I decided then and there, I'm setting my alarm clock on Saturday mornings, because there is no way I'm going to miss out on their raspberries for even one more week. I have a plan, yes I do, and when it's accomplished I will share it here.

Meanwhile, the summer squashes were...abundant.

 

The night before, I was leafing through an old Martha Stewart Living--pre-kids, of course, from 2001--and I spied an entire article of summer squash recipes. The vegetable pot au feu caught my fancy.

From what I understand, a pot au feu usually included stew meat, and it stayed on the fire all day. This recipe contains no meat and what I loved about it was that the whole thing cooked in under 25 minutes. I just can't call it pot au feu.

Quick Summer Vegetable Stew (adapted from Summer Vegetable Pot Au Feu, Martha Stewart Living, March 2001).

some extra-virgin olive oil

2 ounces of onions, I used fresh shallots, Martha likes pearl

3 cloves garlic; I chopped up some garlic scapes

1/4 cup white wine

4 ounces baby carrots, sliced thin

1 bay leaf

2 springs fresh thyme (from our garden, yay!)

2 sprigs flat leaf parsley

3/4 cup homemade or canned chicken stock

3/4 cup water

4 ounces tiny new potatoes cut into quarter inch pieces (I used about 9 ounces because I knew my kids would love them)

9 ounces assorted baby summer squashes, cut in half

1 ounce trimmed sugar snap peas (I think I used about 3 ounces; they're a fave too)

1 ounce lima beans (I skipped these, maybe another time)

Heat oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add onions and garlic and cook until light brown. Add white wine, cook about 3 minutes.

Add potatoes, carrots, bay leaf, thyme, parsley, chicken stock, and water; simmer for 12 minutes. [Martha wants you to add the potatoes after the carrots have cooked for 5 minutes, cooking the potatoes with the carrots for 7 minutes. I knew the potatoes wouldn't get cooked, even though I had deliberately cut them into smaller chunks, and sure enough, I had to pick them out and microwave them a little at the end before adding them back. So put your potatoes in with the carrots.]

Add squash, cooking until tender, about 5 minutes. Add sugar snap peas (and lima beans, if using), and cook 2 minutes.  FYI: watch the stew and add a little chicken broth if it looks like it's getting low, but the liquid is supposed to cook down into a "gravy."

To serve: remove bay leaf, thyme, and parsley sprigs. Ladle veggies and broth into bowls. Serves 4.

 

I served some sauteed chicken breasts from the farmers' market with the veggie stew. I vaguely recalled a favorite Cooking Light recipe that I couldn't find anywhere so I made it as best as I could remember: ground red pepper flakes (I use a spice grinder), salt, and plenty of local honey with a little flour to thicken.  Coat the chicken and then fry in olive oil. I cut the chicken through the center so that the pieces were very thin and cooked through quickly without burning. 

 

E (who is 5) and dear D, my husband, ate every single bite. N (who just turned 4) ate all the veggies and one bite of chicken. Getting non-dairy protein into that boy is a full-time job.

Homemade ricotta. Or paneer. Take your pick.

I never thought we'd make our own butter. But once you take cream (especially the thick cream from a farm), half-fill a jar, tighten the lid and shake for a few minutes (enlisting your kids), and then press out any remaining liquid against a plate or cutting board, you are sold. It is super, super easy, fun to make, and tastes incredible.

Now, butter is one thing, but what I really thought I'd never make is cheese. I was sure (from Laura Ingalls Wilder, that font of homemade wisdom) that it required a funky ingredient, rennet; and in some cases, aging in a moldy cellar. So cheese-making seemed, for the foreseeable future, out of the question.

 

While visiting my parents, I noticed this recipe in the Seattle Times weekend magazine. It's for "homemade ricotta," calls for 4 ingredients (whole milk, buttermilk, cream, salt), a clean kitchen towel or cheesecloth, and is also "so easy."  It's not a "true" ricotta--it's paneer, because ricotta is made from whey (the whitish liquid fresh mozzarella floats in)--but in most other respects it resembles ricotta. Except that, compared to what you'd buy in a store, it tastes fantastically fresh.

Yesterday afternoon, with the kids out of the house, I set about making some. You will have to do some continuous stirring, for about 20 minutes (which might be challenging with kids around) but next time, I plan to get the kids involved, and I expect they'll find it fun, too.

One key to making ricotta: the recipe works best when you use milk that isn't ultra-heat pasteurized ("UHP"). Pretty much all name-brand organic milk is UHP--that's what allows it to have that incredibly long fridge life. We get our milk delivered, and it turns out that milk isn't UHP, so we were all set.

I see yogurt and mascarpone on our horizon.

 

P.S. You may find other recipes for homemade ricotta, including this one which doesn't call for cream. One point made in this second recipe is that you may prefer to salt the ricotta *after* making it so that it can be used for both savory and sweet dishes.

P.P.S. You can make your own buttermilk with a tablespoon of lemon juice or vinegar per cup of milk. I've used this substitution, as you probably have as well, for buttermilk pancakes, etc. but haven't tried it for making ricotta.

P.P.P.S. If you're not sure how to use ricotta, except in lasagna, check out these ideas that I'm planning on giving a try.

Cheating, with jam.

I have every intention of doing some "real" pickling and canning this summer. Truly I do. I even have the canning jars to prove it.  But I figured I'd start off easy by making freezer jam.

Anyone can make freezer jam, which is why it's also called cheater's jam, and it's a great option for those of us with young children and only, say, 30 minutes on our hands instead of several hours.

Now, for those of you who know "all about" freezer jam, my mom found me this Good Housekeeping recipe which uses waaaay less sugar than traditional freezer jam. Which is pretty darn wonderful, considering that other freezer jam recipes call for more sugar than fruit. Yes, you read that right!

 

The last (?) of the strawberries.

 

So here is the freezer jam recipe I used, which calls for only about 1/4 of the sugar of the usual recipe. And, because I tend to be impulsive about starting projects, I used what I had on hand--lime juice--rather than lemon (I figured, it works with margaritas, why not jam)?

 

Low(er) Sugar Strawberry Freezer Jam (Adapted from June 2009 Good Housekeeping)

1 pound of strawberries:  when hulled and sliced, should equal 3 cups

2 T fresh lime juice (or lemon juice, if you're more organized)

2 T powdered fruit pectin* like Sure Jell (in the yellow box, the regular kind, baker's aisle)

1/2 tsp (a sliver) of butter or margarine

1 1/4 cups sugar

three 1 cup jars with good lids (although GH didn't call for this, you can pour some boiling water over them to clean them a little more, per the old Sure Jell recipe).

 

Place the strawberries in a large skillet.  Add pectin, lime juice, and butter--hold off on the sugar for now. Heat to boiling, then mash with a potato masher or a fork. Boil for one minute.

 

Now add the sugar; boil for two minutes more, stirring now and then. Remove from heat and let sit at room temperature for 15 minutes. Ladle into the jars, leaving one inch of head space.  Cool in the fridge for 8 hours.  It will last 3 weeks in the fridge, or place in the freezer to thaw and eat later, for up to one year.

*I doubled this recipe so that I could use almost the whole package of Sure Jell. It is just as easy as making one batch and you might as well while you're going to all the trouble laughing all the way to the freezer.

 

N "helped out" with prepping the strawberries. He actually did put some strawberries into the bowl.

 

 

 

 

I don't think our jam will stay in the freezer for very long. This particular jar will never make it.