Not a reflection - it's the corkscrew willow tree, reaching for the blue sky in winter

Helllooo February! What a stretch of great weather we’ve had! If the groundhog saw his shadow, it was only because he wasn’t facing the sun! You’d think he’d learn by now.

I admit, I am not sorry to kiss 2011 goodbye and begin anew, and I’m also not sorry to say goodbye to January. Granted, the winter garden is a beautiful place – but sunny days that are too cold to be outside for any length of time are pure torture. The winter can get long and dreary when we sit inside and know that beneath that snow, the weeds still grow. (We know this is true, because when that snow melts, there they are, bigger than ever.)

In February, though, we start to notice the daylight lasting just a wee bit longer….hope is on the horizon with the rising sun.

But February is a weird month – it’s that ‘tween month – not really winter, not really spring. Kind of the prelude season. We don’t dare do much in the garden for fear of smashing delicate soil structure and destroying zillions of microbes in a single step. Some, not mentioning names, of course, might use that as an excuse to sit back in their easy chairs by the fire, maybe with something fermented, and delve into catalogs that promise color, warmth, and bounty at their fingertips. (Ya gotta love that woman sporting her fancy melons.) And we can talk about climate change and global warming and extremes in weather, but seriously, do I believe I’ll be able to grow luffas and bananas?

Umm – well yes, I DO believe – as much as I believe in the Good Garden Fairy – and the ability of science to come up with marvelous things we would never have believed possible. (You have to understand, I’m married to a scientist, and in my past life, I worked in a laboratory, so I have come to understand that it’s all a matter of levels of uncertainty – or conversely, certainty – and obviously, there is nothing certain in this world except death and taxes – but lest I digress….)

Oh sure, we can take the opportunity to reflect on what worked, what didn’t, and what we’d do differently if we could take back all those stupid things we said in our ‘tween years – but learning from our mistakes is for progressives and grown ups.

No, during garden-planning season, we all quite willingly skip into our very own fantasy world, and it’s not a bad thing. Great things come from great visions, after all, and even if they don’t end up being true to the dream, they can still, in their own way, be quite extraordinary. It has to start with a seed of an idea, though, and the desire to make it grow, right? So – feel no guilt – sit where you are, fantasize away, and do your part to save the microbes!

Fish emerging through the ice on the little pond - Is it spring out here yet?

In February, though, anything and everything can and will happen, so you have to be prepared. Mentally, if nothing else. I mean, we have days when we think it must be April. We watch the birds pairing up and the buds start to swell on the trees, and we know that spring is maybe tomorrow, if not already. Other days, we feel we’ve regressed to November. Is there any question why we are dazed and confused?

When the days are nice, we get out and finish pruning (ahm! Isn’t that what we were supposed to be doing?) and maybe we can even take advantage of a sale at our local nurseries and plant a tree or two while they are still sleeping. (Wake up in a warm place … now There’s a fantasy!)

The problem with February is that on nice days (it’s all relative, sure, but we’ve been hitting 50 here, and it feels pretty darn good!), we feel we should be getting the garden ready, even though the soil is obviously too wet – and on lousy days (when the wind is blowing 50), we are thinking surely winter should be over by now and we really should be out there getting the garden ready, even though the soil is obviously too wet. Did I say that already? But that’s how February is. Repetitive. And we are tired of this stuff and need out. Cabin fever closes in big time. People in Cordova, Alaska, know what I’m talking about. And yes, I confess, I am spending way too much time on TravelZoo.

For those of us in Washington, though, the land where the weeds never sleep, February is the month of error. We are tempted to start our annual plants, but know we shouldn’t dare, but do anyway. We can’t help it. Primroses arrive in the grocery stores – and they are blooming profusely in sunny yellows and oranges. So we go home, full of hope and promise, and try planting a little something in makeshift milk-jug greenhouses; in the open garden, we try planting another little something – we plant deeply and mulch thickly, figuring they’ll eventually make it to the sunlight; we plant, watch our seedlings rot in the wet months that are sure to come, and replant and maybe even replant again; we plant, cover with mini hoop-houses of plastic, which get ripped in the wind, and which we strap down with Duct Tape, and then later try to crawl into and water even though it’s pouring down rain outside; and in a tender Valentine’s Day moment, we cut out pictures of hearts and flowers and paste them on cards and give them to our grandmothers. Ok, maybe I can’t do that anymore, but if I could, I would.

Lacinato kale in winter - it survives everything (and so will you!)

Well, folks, when all else fails, I say Eat More Kale. I know, I know, it might sound counterintuitive to some, and it hardly seems a solution for those winter-time blues or anything else I’ve been talking about, but believe me, it will do you wonders – as will (it goes without saying) my all-time remedy for just about everything: garlic.

I am happy to present to you here today a recipe from one of my readers, and of whom I have become a real fan. Walt has not only passed on this incredibly good (and simple!) recipe that combines these two miracle cures, but also sent me plans on how to build a beehive – which I will share with you in blog posts to come. For now:

Death by Garlic (Revived by Kale)

By: Walt Wielbicki (Garlic Breath)

Prep Time: 5 Minutes
Cook Time: 15 Minutes
Ready In: 20 Minutes
Servings: 4

“10 minced cloves of garlic lightly browned in olive oil and tossed with parsley, kale, red pepper flakes, hot penne pasta, and freshly grated Romano cheese makes a heady and flavorful dish.”

Death by Garlic (Revived by Kale) Casserole

INGREDIENTS:

1/2 cup olive oil
10 cloves Polish hard neck garlic, minced
1 bunch Nash’s Kale torn from the thick stems in bite size pieces
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
3 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
1 pound dry penne pasta
1/3 cup grated Romano cheese

DIRECTIONS:

1. Cook pasta according to directions on package
2. In a pan, brown the Polish garlic in oil for 2 Minuets then add the Nash kale and stir for 5 more minuets until the kale is wilted. Add salt, pepper and parsley and remove from heat.
3. Toss penne pasta with garlic mixture and add Romano cheese and serve!

Note: Add sliced Polish kielbasa at the same time you brown garlic for a special treat.

My variations: We used gluten-free penne pasta made with rice flour. I’ve been really missing pasta lately, and these were great. We had plenty of kale, and yes, even parsley from our garden.  As for garlic, we used German Extra Hardy (a porcelain type with a long shelf life) instead of Polish hardneck garlic. The Polish I have is a softneck artichoke type, which is not quite as flavorful as the German. I also threw in a can of tuna (along with the water it comes in). Polish kielbasa would, indeed, be good. Meatless is also very good.

! ~ * ~ !

One Final Word (or two): Don’t despair.

After February, comes March – and in March, things start to get a little crazy – so if there is something you can do now (sharpen your tools, get your trellises ready, yes, finish pruning, design your water systems and future garden beds, and yes, order seeds!) – do it!

And yes, I might try starting a little spinach. And maybe a few onions. Maybe even more kale….

Links to some cool gardening ideas for February:

A seed-starter plant stand

A chart on how long seeds last (viability)

Some of my favorite seed companies

Organic Seed Alliance list of companies that sell organic seeds

Tips on starting seeds indoors (from Renee’s Garden)

To fill people in who don’t live in the Pacific Northwest: we’ve had three days of some of the heaviest snow we’ve seen in decades, followed by rain and freezing temps that left everything encased in ice.  Yesterday, the wind hurled the rain against the windows. Branches of our old fir in the front yard flailed wildly about and I thought sure our old cherry tree was going to topple over. Little birds hunkered down beneath the feeder, while the eagles and gulls raced each other across the sky.

So – you can imagine my surprise when I found my kale plants standing defiantly strong against the onslaught of weather. “Mother Nature – bring it ON!”

My favorite amongst the kales is the Italian Lacinato. Seriously, this plant can grow to tree-like status in the veggie world. It’s amazingly beautiful, with dark green, deeply crinkled leaves, statuesque, even prehistoric – and it is, in fact, a very ancient plant. Nearby, also poking up from the melting snow, a young rosemary.  It seemed like a natural fit. I picked some of both.

I love eating with the seasons and harvesting what I can from the garden, but I have to admit, I could be more efficient in the winter-gardening department. I’m not sure any plastic tunnel would have held up under the weather we’ve had, though, so I’m grateful for something that can hold its own under harsh weather.

Still, in the dead of winter (which, looking at my garden, is an appropriate expression), some might be heard to say, “Oh no. Chard and kale. Again.”

That person, however, would not be me. I love kale. My favorite way of cooking it is in a Polish soup with a rich broth, assorted root vegetables, beans, and sausage. It’s also really good simply steamed with a little garlic & fried bacon thrown in and a splash of vinegar. Or you could sauté it with a lot of garlic and then toss it with a little olive oil, parsley, and red pepper flakes into penne pasta, topped with Romano cheese, like my friend, Walt, the beekeeper, does (I’ll share his recipe soon).

But I didn’t have these things tonight, and what I ended up with was a sloshy stir-fry that was actually quite good. I was inspired by a recipe I found at the Unrefined Kitchen. I was intrigued by the idea of “cauliflower rice” – especially since we are trying to limit grains and gluten in our diet – so here is my variation:

Recipe: Kale-Cauliflower-Chicken Casserole

Ingredients:

Chicken breasts, onions, kale, cauliflower, garlic, rosemary, bone broth or other stock, arrowroot or cornstarch, cheese (optional).

Method:

Basically, just sauté a little onion with cut-up pieces of a couple of chicken breasts. After the mixture is browned and cooked through, add a little bone broth thickened with arrowroot to make a thin gravy. In another pan, lightly steam cut-up chunks of cauliflower in bone broth or stock. Blast a couple of times with an immersion (or other) blender to make it “rice-like.” While this is going on, chop your garlic and set aside. Cut 6-8 leaves of kale in thin strips and toss it in with the chicken. Right at the end, add the chopped garlic, a little minced rosemary, and the cauliflower “rice.” Give it a stir or two. Top the servings with a little cheese (we used Asiago).

I could live on this. Quite well, in fact.

Some pointers:

Kale: If you layer the leaves of the kale and roll them up like a cigar, it is easy to slice into narrow strips and then cross slice. Kale doesn’t have the water content of spinach, so it doesn’t reduce quite as much – and that’s why it’s helpful to add a little extra broth to the mix – how much depends on how gravy-like you like it.

Cauliflower: I admit, ours did not turn out as “rice”-like as that described in Unrefined Kitchen. Perhaps I oversteamed it a bit. The blender quickly turned it to thick mush. No matter. Still good. But it made the whole casserole more stew-like. In fact, this would be a good way to add a flavorful “sauce” to other dishes.

Arrowroot: If you haven’t used arrowroot, give it a try. Cornstarch also works, but it might be difficult to find some that is GMO-free. Arrowroot thickens at a lower temp and you can use a little less. Plus, it’s gluten-free (as opposed to thickening with flour). Like cornstarch, it needs to be mixed with a little cold liquid first.

Garlic: I used 2 small bulbs (about 1.75” diameter) (9 cloves) of German Extra Hardy. This Porcelain variety can easily get nearly twice that size. It is known for having just a few large, plump cloves per bulb, a strong garlic flavor, and a high allicin content. At this time of year, the hardneck bulbs are reaching the end of their shelf life, so they need to be eaten. The smaller bulbs seem to keep longer, so I save them for last. I don’t “mince” the garlic too small – I like to bite into a piece of it now and then. I just smash the cloves with the flat side of a meat tenderizer and then chop it coarsely (yes, you can lay the flat side of a knife on a clove and hit it with your hand – but I prefer to minimize the beatings to my hands). Letting it sit a bit (all it takes is a minute or less) before adding it to the rest of the food gives time for the allicin in the garlic to form and other chemical reactions to take place that develop flavor and increase health benefits. Allicin is destroyed by heat, so to preserve flavor, add chopped garlic to the food at the very last minute, giving it just enough time to heat up and for the flavors to distribute.

Rosemary: Strip the narrow leaves from the rosemary, chop fine, and add it at the last minute with the garlic. Again, you don’t want those volatile oils to just evaporate. I love the woodsy smell of rosemary, but it’s easy to do too much – so go lightly.

Cheese: not a necessity, but it sure adds another dimension of flavor to the overall dish. We used what we happened to have.

About Growing Kale & Dealing with Aphids:

If I were to pick a power food for Northwest gardens, I think it would have to be kale. The Lacinato does so well for me, I don’t think I’ll even bother with the other varieties next year, which were more prone to aphid infestations and tend to turn tough and bitter with age. Some people plant kale in spring and then again in fall. Me, I just keep with the spring plant. I’m too busy with the garlic in late summer, and it is hard to get new plants going during our hot, dry time when we have little rainfall, lots of wind, and when the bugs are in full force.

Like other brassicas, the kales are nutrient hogs – and they are prone to aphids – so you have to decide whether the effort and resources are worth it. To me, they are. You don’t need many plants to give you plenty of food. A larger plant (i.e., one started in spring) seems to have a little more resilience against the aphid onslaught. Ants will farm them – so if you have aphids, you probably have double trouble. Ladybugs feast on aphids, but never enough to get rid of them. My solution has been to spray the little bast**ds with a strong force water – but then, you have to wonder, where do they go and where do they attack next? I’ve also tried soap, nicotine, garlic, and oil sprays – but then, you don’t want to harm the good bugs that are trying to help in the war effort. I’ve also tried planting wormwood in the vicinity, which also seems to help. I even smash them into glue between my fingers. No one method, though, completely solves the problem. A combination of counterattacks is usually the best strategy. Plus, it’s usually not the whole crop that gets infested – only plants here and there. By growing a little extra, you can afford to sacrifice a few if you need to. If you can get the plants through the summer to after frost, Mother Nature will solve your insect problem for you. Plus, after frost is when kale comes into its prime.

~ * ~

More Info:

If you’re looking for a good source for seeds, I can very highly recommend Renee’s Garden, a company that specializes in heirloom varieties of veggies, herbs, and flowers. Renee Shepherd is always on the lookout for unique and quality seeds; they are strong supporters of sustainable farming practices; and they donate seeds all over the world in a variety of outreach programs. It truly is a small company making a huge difference, and I can’t say enough good things about them! (And no – I’m not an affiliate – I’ve just had some outstanding results with their seeds. Good seed definitely matters!) Non-GMO – of course.

Are you a fan of Dr. Weil? He, too, loves kale. Kale is a nutritional powerhouse of vitamins A, C, and K, the organosulphur compounds that have been linked to cancer prevention, calcium, and folic acid. You can read more about kale in Dr. Weil’s garden here.

Need garlic? I still have some German Extra Hardy and Polish White left. Shoot me an email, head over to the garlic page, and/or stop by the house if you’re in the neighborhood.

An entire plate of turkey cookies - the smell is overwhelming.

"What is she doing? This must be a test. I don't dare touch them."

Barkley moves to a different rug; the plate of cookies follow. He's afraid to look at them.

"Am I in trouble? Please, just take them away. I can't stand it."

"They sure look good. Maybe I could try just one."

"Oh yeah. These are awesome biscuits!"

I confess. I had a hilariously good time torturing poor Barkley. He is so eager to please and so ready to assume guilt. But I gave him a half dozen treats for putting up with my antics and as payment for being showbiz material. Plus, he got turkey for Thanksgiving, so he’s not complaining.

As I mentioned in my earlier post, I didn’t think to take pictures of the final product – so I needed to make another batch to post it on the blog. It gave me an opportunity to perfect the recipe. The first batch was a little crumbly.

Modifications in the Second Batch & a Few Tips:

Here is the trick: in working with rice flour (as opposed to wheat), adding a little xanthan gum does wonders for holding the mixture together. Also, I added fewer eggs and strained the pumpkin a little better to reduce the liquid, which meant a little less rice flour and a higher proportion of turkey to the overall mix. I kept the dough a bit on the sticky side and let it sit overnight to give the flour a chance to swell with the liquid, which I think really helped with the overall consistency. I still needed to sprinkle a little rice flour on the counter and the top of the dough to keep it from sticking to the rolling pin. I baked the cookies at a little lower temperature for a bit longer time – and they were so hard, I didn’t bother drying them out further in the dehydrator.

I admit, the lean ground turkey breast is a bit more expensive than buying the whole bird, but sometimes the convenience is worth it. That said, I don’t see why you couldn’t grind up leftover turkey (or chop fine) and add it to a cookie dough for your fur-faced friends. Great way to use leftovers; great handmade gift for the holidays, too.

Pumpkins, by the way, are an excellent food for dogs. We used to have a roly-poly yellow lab who just loved the stuff. We’d reduce her regular chow and add cooked pumpkin – it made her feel full, added extra nutrition, and she lost weight in the process.

As with all my recipes, there are no firm measurements – simply adjust according to what you have. Some pumpkin is runnier than others, for example. Maybe you have a little more turkey. Maybe even a little cooked rice instead of all rice flour. It really depends on whether you want to roll it out and cut with cookie cutters (cat shapes are fun, although the humor is somewhat lost on the canine), or whether you’d just as soon go with drop biscuits. Dogs just love it when you get creative in making them treats, and they really don’t care how it looks. Basically, you can just adapt your favorite cookie recipe, adding in the eggshells, which is a very cheap source of calcium, and turkey. Leave out sugar, salt, and wheat.  Also remember that onions, garlic, and raisins are toxic to dogs.

Without further ado, here is my loose recipe:

Recipe for Thanksgiving Dog Biscuits

Meat:

Ground turkey (I used extra lean ground turkey breast that was half price, but still pretty fancy stuff as far as my dog was concerned). You could use lean hamburger or liver or other meat. I used a little over a pound.

Liquid Ingredients:

Pumpkin puree (I used about 2 cups in a rather large batch)

Eggs – including egg shells (eggs are such a cheap source of protein, so I used 4, figuring 1 for each ½ cup of pumpkin – but you could use fewer).

Oil – olive, canola – or maybe bacon drippings? (I used olive – maybe 1/2 cup)

Blackstrap Molasses – just a little. Adds minerals & flavoring. A couple tablespoons or so up to ¼ c in a large batch. Not too much, though – molasses can be a laxative.

Dry Ingredients:

Nutritional yeast – doesn’t take much. I added 4 T (or ¼ c). It’s a powerhouse food, gives the dog a shiny coat, and reduces fleas.

Xanthan gum: I added about 2 T to the whole big batch, so if you’re making a smaller batch, you could use far less. It’s a bit spendy (get it at the health food store), but a little goes a long way. 1 tsp/cup of flour is plenty—maybe even less.

Rice flour – freshly ground – however much you need to make it pack together. I just ground some rice in the blender for about a minute.  My first batch took 8 cups; the second batch only needed 6.

Other Ideas for Additions (I did not add these, but they’d be worth experimenting with):

Kelp Powder
Powdered Milk
Oatmeal and/or oat flour
Cooked rice
Cooked carrots, green beans, or other veggies (but remember, no onions or garlic)

Procedure: Throw your eggs in the blender, including the shells, buzz till fine. Add olive or other oil a little at a time to get it to mix together. Add the pumpkin and molasses, liquefy, and if the blender is strong enough, the meat – otherwise, just add the liquids to the meat and mix by hand as you would a meatloaf.

Mix your dry ingredients – but start with half the amount of flour, add the yeast and xanthan gum, mix thoroughly, and add to the wet ingredients. Add remaining flour as needed to get it to stick together in a ball. The dough should remain a little on the sticky side. Rest while you let the dough “rest” (stirring a big batch can be a good workout).

Roll out to about ½” thick or more, cut with cutters, bake at 325 for about 15-20 minutes, turn over, and bake a little more. If necessary, dehydrate to get extra hard or cook a little longer at reduced temps.

Yes, I tried them. I thought they were great. I’ve been on a gluten-free diet for awhile and I’d say they were better than your average gluten-free cracker – much better, in fact. The turkey is not a strong flavor. The pumpkin adds a certain sweetness, complemented by the molasses. Personally, I would add a little salt if they were for me. Barkley, though, thought they were just fine the way they were. He was even willing to do stupid tricks to get more. Even after all I’d put him through. What a good dog.

I packaged them up as "Wolf Bites" - "Give them something to howl about." These biscuits will definitely bring out the inner wolf, no matter how deeply it may be buried.

P.S. If you’d like some & if the inventory says “sorry out of stock,” just contact me – I might be talked into whipping up another batch. Any payment above the normal price I will donate to our local Humane Society or W.A.G. (Welfare for Animals Guild). Thanks! And Barkley & his former inmates thank you, too!

Thank you!

Seems like everything is ready at once: corn, tomatoes, green beans, beets … and all those greens & brassicas are really coming into their prime with the cooler temps. I came across a great recipe for minestrone soup this morning at one of my favorite blog sites: Cookus Interuptus. It uses a little bit of everything you might have along with some kidney beans simmered in some soup stock. Pretty darn easy, and that’s what we’re having tonight.

If you haven’t watched the videos over at Cookus Interuptus, check them out. The characters in these mini-soaps are real people – and they’re cooking and eating real food and trying to make a video while constantly being interrupted – and maybe it’s just because I relate so much that I laugh through every episode and am then inspired to make something new and fresh for dinner, that I am totally hooked. (I also watched their video on making homemade dog food this morning, and guess what, my mutts got a little fresh chard, carrots, and chicken livers mixed in with their gruel for breakfast. Barkley and Ginger give the video the two paws up, tail wag, tongue-hanging-out-for-more vote of approval, and Guy Noir, the cat, concurs with a silent nod, which, for a very demanding cat, is significant.)

I’ve got a lot on my agenda this week, so this post will be short (ha!). First, thanks to everyone who supported the Harvest Celebration Farm Tour last weekend. Personally, I volunteered at the Freedom Farm (a horse ranch & equestrian center), and we had great weather and a fantastic turnout.  Very fun to see so many people into buying local, which has truly become a movement in our community!

This week, I’m getting the garlic beds ready for planting, which will take place over the next few days (later post on that procedure!) – and I hope to get some apples in the canner, because that is something we use all winter in breads and cakes and pies and just plain. The jars are starting to stack up on the shelves, and they are absolutely beautiful!

We have an abundance of apples every year (5 trees, mostly Gravensteins). I am not sure how old the trees are, but our house is dated around 1900; our place was part of an old dairy farm homestead. Last year, we had so many apples, I put them in a wheelbarrow by the side of the road with a “Free” sign on them, and they quickly disappeared. This year, we don’t have nearly as many, and all I can figure is that we had such a cold spring with lots of wind and rain, that maybe the blossoms didn’t get pollinated. I remember feeling sorry for the bees and hoping they would find our trees.  Even so, there are still lots and plenty to make into pies, cider, cakes, sauces, and to share.

So without further ado – here is a pretty quick & easy apple cake recipe. I modified it from the King Arthur Flour site, which has a ton of recipes on it and is a very fun site to browse through (but somewhat dangerous if you have a fetish for cool kitchen gadgets & supplies that you can’t find elsewhere that make you look like a real kitchen pro!)

Basic Instructions: All you do is make a very thick cake batter, pour it in the bottom of a buttered cast-iron skillet (or other pan), and top it with sliced apples that you’ve tossed with a little lemon juice, sugar, and cinnamon or whatever combination of apple pie spices you like, mixed with a little apple cider. Sprinkle it with crystallized sugar if you want to be fancy.  Bake until done. It makes the whole house smell wonderful. It is easy to imagine grandmas baking this cake in a cast-iron woodstove.

(BTW – I used our windfall Gravensteins. I quartered them, cut out the stems and seeds, and sliced them thick. I didn’t bother peeling them, because the whole peeling, coring, slicing thing is what prevents me from using the apples as much as I’d like, and mechanical gadgets create too much waste in my opinion. And guess what? They’re great with the peels left on! Oh – and since we have so many apples, I frequently make apple juice or a combination of apple-carrot juice with our juicer. So I made up a little extra apple juice and used that as the liquid in the recipe. It tends to be a little denser as the pulp isn’t completely removed, and the flavor is just oh-SO-intense!)

Detailed Instructions:

Foolproof Skillet Apple Cake

Pan Prep:

Butter a 9-inch cast-iron skillet or pan

Apple Prep:

Wash & slice 5-8 medium-sized apples ; toss them with a little lemon juice

Sugar & Spice Prep:

¼ c brown sugar
1 tsp cinnamon + ¼ tsp cloves + ¼ tsp allspice, or combination of your choice
¼ tsp salt (optional)

Mix up and then add

3 T apple juice

Stir this into the apples

Cake Batter Prep:

Mix dry ingredients:

1 1/3 c flour (I grind my own flour, so mine was a blend of fresh ground wheat and triticale – which is what I had on hand)
¼ c sugar (I use apple cider for the liquid, so you don’t need much)
¼ c non-instant milk powder (since I was out of milk and didn’t have time to go to the dairy)
1 ½ tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt

Mix wet ingredients:

6 T butter, melted
2/3 c. apple cider (the official recipe calls for milk)
1 tsp vanilla
1 egg

Stir the wet into the dry and pour into the skillet.

Top with apples – dump them in, or, since I was trying to make a photo op, arrange them on top & sprinkle with crystallized sugar.

Bake at 350 for 50 or 60 minutes.

Skillet Apple Cake - fast, easy, and easy to eat!

Or – like I ended up doing – bake for 40 minutes, find out you have to go somewhere, crank the oven up to 400 very briefly, turn it completely off & leave, come back an hour later and walk into a house smelling like apples and cinnamon, open the oven door, and voila! Beautiful apple cake!

Seems pretty foolproof to me!

Artichokes are full of A, B, and C vitamins, phosphorous, potassium, calcium, and iron. I feel compelled to write that, but I don’t think I ever eat them for the vitamins. I eat them for the ritual of peeling off the petals of the flowers one by one, dipping them in an oily sauce, and individually scraping them across my bottom teeth. It’s a sensual experience, not to be rushed. At the end of a hectic day, sometimes it’s important to sit down, take time, be with someone you care about, and share.  Or maybe just be alone with the solitude of your own thoughts. Also good. Artichokes are a thoughtful food. Thought-full. Interesting word. Yes, an artichoke makes that happen.

Ok – so boil up the chokes, heat up some butter or add a little lemon juice to some mayo, and you’re good to go, right?

Whoa whoa whoa.

Artichokes are all about taking time.

And the perfect accompaniment to artichokes? Aioli.

True, aioli is basically garlic in mayonnaise — but it can be so much more.

As a side story (which I am well-known for telling), in my early 20s, I spent a year in Paris, where a lovely woman, who is a story in herself, took me under her wing and without whom I would not have survived. There are many stories within this story, but one of them involves teaching me to make mayonnaise. The French are fond of rituals, slow food, and taking the time to enjoy good food and relationships. It is not about an egg and a cup of oil; it is about the soul of the little poulet and the tree that provides us with the essence of its fruit.

And so…

How to Make Aioli

1 bulb of garlic
2 egg yolks
1 c olive oil
a lemon
a little salt

Preliminary Notes:

For greater success, all ingredients should be at room temperature. Getting the egg, oil, and lemon to meld together as one is much easier when they are at similar temps. Don’t shock them with a jolt of cold lemon.

Some people may be concerned about Salmonella with raw eggs – in which case, you might add a little garlic and olive oil to commercial mayonnaise. No, it’s not the same as making your own. What you gain in security, you lose in control. My “olive oil” manufactured mayonnaise contains soybean oil, modified corn starch, sugar, xanthan gum, oleoresin, beta-carotene and paprika for color, and something called “natural flavors,” in addition to standard ingredients. The first ingredient is water, which always makes me wonder what I’m really paying for.

Personally, I really miss my chickens, but I buy eggs from our neighbors, and I am not particularly concerned about Salmonella. I don’t feel quite the same with the off-the-shelf variety found in supermarkets, however.

So – get good eggs – the flavor is night and day. This is key. Use good olive oil. Obviously, if it is strong-flavored olive oil, your aioli will be correspondingly strong-flavored. A mixture of oils (pure and extra virgin) might be less overpowering. Expect your homemade version to awaken your taste buds with its richness and simplicity.

Also, to do this properly, you need a mortar & pestle, which gives time for the properties of the garlic to transform and the flavors to better blend. There is something about the rhythmic, repetitive grinding, stirring, whisking motions; inhaling the vapors of the garlic and lemon; watching the transformation of the yolk and oil; and appreciating the texture of something soft and smooth but not mechanically homogenized … all very fulfilling in their own way. But sure – a blender will work here.

Let’s Begin:

Aioli is not aioli without garlic. This is an opportunity to taste the nuances of different varieties – hot, spicy, smooth, mellow. Juan de Fuca Wonder is often my standard, simply because I have so much of it. But try a Persian Star, Bogatyr, or Vekak — all very flavorful varieties. Personally, I like something that packs a little punch – something where a few large cloves go a long way. Hardnecks in general would be my choice, but truly, it’s all good. Whatever kind you choose, peel the cloves of garlic and mash them in the mortar with the pestle. Add a pinch of salt to help things go. Begin smashing, grinding, and stirring with a circular motion until it becomes a paste. Inhale deeply. This is good. I love this step. The fresher the garlic, the easier this is, as fresh garlic is so much juicier.

Start adding the egg yolks, one after another, and stir each until well mixed. My French mentor advised to always go in one direction throughout this entire process. I am not sure why, but I assumed it had something to do with the rotation of the earth. My language skills at the time did not allow me to properly formulate the question, and besides, some things were better not questioned. Listen. Accept. Follow. Learn.

Now for the true Art in the Aioli: in the beginning, the olive oil must be added only a drop or two at a time. Seriously. You must give the yolks time to accept the oil and for them to become one. In kitchen chemistry terms, this is the emulsification process. The garlic helps this transformation. Unless you have a large mortar, you will want to switch to a larger bowl and a whisk. You will capture air into the creamy mass. Eventually you can add more oil at a time until it is a thin stream, but at first, drop by drop is the rule. Stir continuously. Take your time. If you see it start to separate, stop adding oil and keep stirring. If it refuses to emulsify, you can add an extra yolk, but if you go slowly, it shouldn’t be a problem.

About half-way through the oil, squeeze in the fresh lemon. It doesn’t need a lot – a teaspoon or two. The lemon juice not only adds flavor, but also changes the pH of the mixture and helps it to thicken.

When you get the entire cup of oil incorporated into the yolks, you can thin it with a little water or lemon juice. You can also add herbs, spices, or a little horseradish.  Mustard also helps the emulsion process and can be added at any time. Brown mustard is easy to grow, and a little goes a long way. If I use it, I add the seeds when I first grind the garlic cloves. (As with many things, once you grow or make your own, you become a snob to those prepackaged colored things in the squeeze bottles.)

Your aioli is almost complete. Taste. Adjust. Taste again. Gently dip in the artichoke petals. Savor this simple but indulgent delight. Savor your time together.

(One last note: You might want to keep in mind how easy it is to consume a lot of oil. You don’t have to consume it all at one sitting. The aioli keeps well under refrigeration [remember the raw eggs]; in fact, the flavors just get better. The French are fond of putting it on fish, with sliced meats, grilled vegetables….)

As mentioned in my previous post, NOW is the time to use those spring greens, because later on they get strong and bitter. Personally, I had easy access to lovage, sorrel, parsley, pea shoots, kale, and collards, so those are things I wanted to use. Lovage & sorrel, especially, need to be used in small quantities, but can really add that little “zing” that makes everyone wonder, “Jeez! What IS that!”

I got the idea for this recipe from the latest (March 2010) issue of Vegetarian Times. Although I’m not a strict vegetarian, I’ve been a subscriber for years because they inspire me & help me keep on track. But, of course, I rarely follow recipes. Likewise, if you wanted to add dead animals to your soon-to-be famous Quinoa Composite (or whatever you want to call it), that would be entirely up to you. (BTW – the VT website is a great site, with a searchable recipe database and a lot of resource links, so I highly recommend it.)

My first question, though, is, “Can it be a quiche without a crust?”  Maybe this should be called Grains & Greens in a Pie Dish (note: not in a PIE; in a pie DISH).

Seriously, this is one of those dishes that makes you suspicious because it is just so freakin good for you, it’s easy to fix, and it tastes great, too.

For those not familiar with quinoa (pronounced keen-wa), it was a staple of the early Incas. Anything that has been around for 6000 years has stood the test of time, in my book. It is the mother grain of grains (although some would argue it’s a fruit; others say it’s a seed; maybe it’s all of these), having more protein than any other “grain;” plus, it’s a complete protein, meaning the amino acids are in balance so you can absorb it better. It’s gluten free, easy to digest, and what’s more, cooks up in 15 minutes or less, making it right up there with cous cous for camp food. You can now find it in big warehouse stores; so it has definitely gone mainstream.

I’ve never grown quinoa; here at sea level, I question how well it would do when it is normally grown in more mountainous regions. However, I have grown red amaranth, a dye plant relative to quinoa, so it might be interesting to try.

Obviously, this is another one of my freestyle recipes, which is more about attitude than measurement. When you start throwing in wild things and people think you’re getting a little crazy, it can be really liberating, you know? Bring on the wine, toss a little of that in, too! Why not.

Quinoa Crustless Quiche with Spring Greens (whatever)

• 1/2 cup quinoa
• 1 cup water or stock
• a little olive oil
• 1 onion, chopped
• some greens – whatever you have
• feta cheese – a small handful, crumbled
• 1 T of butter
• 3 eggs, lightly beaten

Here’s what you do:

Collect your greens. As I mentioned above, I had collards, kale, lovage, sorrel, parsley, and new pea shoots (they re-seeded themselves – looks like I missed a bunch!). Obviously, I could have added dandelion, mustards, chickweeds, & etc., but I had several bunches at this point and it was beginning to look like a lot. Vegetarian Times suggested chicory and romaine lettuce plus extra green onions and dill. It’s too early for dill here and I don’t have easy access to chicory. I imagine my version is stronger flavored in a different way.

Toast your quinoa. Just brown it over medium heat in a dry pan (use a pan with a lid – but leave the lid off for now). It will start popping like popcorn and gets this wonderful nutty aroma. Be careful, because once it gets hot, it browns quickly, and you don’t want to burn it. Take it off the heat, stand back, and add 1 cup of water or stock. Quickly put on the lid to capture the steam, put in back on low heat, and let it cook about 15 minutes.

Now would be a good time to get your oven heating up to 350 degrees.

Cook your veggies. Put a little olive oil in a pan and saute the chopped onion until translucent. Then start adding your collected greens (also chopped), according to how long they need to be cooked. For example, first I added the collards; while that was cooking, I rinsed & chopped kale; while that was cooking, I chopped the lovage (not too much! this stuff is powerful!); then came the sorrel, which needs very little cooking; and lastly I added parsely and pea shoots, which tend to be rather delicate. You don’t really need to cook these latter greens – and there’s no point in cooking collards to death, either. This all goes rather quickly. Take it all off the heat. If there’s some liquid in the pan, that’s ok. If you time this right, your veggies & quinoa will be done at the same time.

Alternatively, you could get the quinoa going while you pick the greens. Whatever works for you. I tend to get sidetracked in the garden, so I don’t start cooking until I’m back inside and on a mission.

Add cooked quinoa and crumbled cheese to veggies and stir it all up. (VT also added goat cheese; I really found the feta to be quite enough, and the stuff is so salty, you don’t need very much or other seasoning).

Prepare baking pan. Melt a tablespoon of butter in your baking dish – just enough to lightly coat the bottom. Just put it in the oven for a minute while you do the next step.

Add beaten eggs. Do this part quickly in case your veggie-quinoa mix is rather hot. You don’t want it to scramble at this point.

Spread veggie-quinoa mix in pan, pack it down a bit, and bake for about 20 minutes – just long enough to solidify everything and maybe slightly brown the top.

So easy. So quick. Nutritious fast food, Inca style. Enjoy!

I have to tell you about Andi and Rudy. Andi likes texture in her pieces and is fond of finding unusual things with which to imprint patterns into her work. She adds a bit of whimsy to her creations. She also has a serious knack for photography.

Rudy is part scientist, part potter. Talk with Rudy and you get a real education in what goes into making pottery – where he digs the clay from steep mountainsides in remote areas, where he comes across rare minerals for the glazes, how he achieves an unusual metallic luster to his pieces, the chemistry behind the transformation that occurs when you heat something to 2300 degrees F or more….

Rudy “claims” to have reached an understanding with his passion for clay over the last 15 or so years, but he still continues this never-ending quest to stretch the limits of what is possible with this most basic of elements from our earth and the minerals that transform a plain pot into a mesmerizing vessel that melds form, function, and inescapable beauty. His pieces make you want to hold them firmly in both hands and then to run your fingers lightly across and around its contours. Very sensuous. Very tactile.

And the result? Truly phenomenal!

What is it with pottery that somehow touches us so deeply? It brings to mind ancient cultures that cross into modern times. It blurs the line between an object with an obvious purpose: filling, holding, carrying, emptying – and the abstract realm of emotion and spirituality. It has the ability to intertwine utility with the essence of who we are, a duality that fools us with its simplicity.

Here is a picture of my personal favorite garlic roaster (center piece), which sits in my kitchen on the window sill and reflects the changing moods of the day outside. Beside it are some other Bauer Haus creations: a French butter dish to the left (the little robin is a memory from my mother), a funky little bird (made by Andi) to the right, a couple of small bowls, and some of my favorite rocks.

So – yes, to roast garlic, you can use aluminum foil – that convenient disposable product that finds its way to landfills – and it will bake up just fine. Cut a small piece off the top of the garlic bulb to expose the tips of the cloves and pour a little oil on top. Wrap the foil around the bulb and bake at 350 degrees for about 45 minutes. Roasted garlic is always good.

BUT – bake your garlic in pottery – and the garlic is transformed from a mere accessory to the meal to an elegant centerpiece at your table.  (I highly recommend a Georgia Fire, Chesnok Red, or a plump Bogatyr variety – or perhaps a Brown Tempest or a Persian Star – so hard to choose!)

In a tradition that dates perhaps thousands of years before Christ – simply drizzle the bulb with the oil of the olive tree, and bake it slowly until it is creamy soft and the sugars are caramelized. The vessel captures the aroma and ensures all of the juices are secure. Roasted garlic done this way elevates a simple dinner to a feast.

Bring the vessel to the table. Slowly open the lid. Deeply inhale the fragrance.

Give thanks.

Thank you, Andi and Rudy! I am thankful for friends like you!

And to all my friends in cyberspace, have an abundant Thanksgiving, and of course, remember to buy local!

I confess – I’m not an expert when it comes to tomatoes. They get funguses and blights and seem to need a lot of maintenance. Kind of like kids, only seasonal.

Young, well-trained tomatoes. So far so good.

But this year, we knew it would be different. We were excited about tomatoes. We built the ultimate tomato trellis and laced it with twine. I carefully trained my young plants into position. Everyone looked full of promise. I reviewed several online videos about pruning, staking, and growing the perfectly mannered vine. Those pleasant people make it look so easy.

And then about the time of puberty, everything kind of got out of control. One day, everyone was orderly and in their proper places. Next thing you know, they turned into a bunch of unstoppable rebels. They were climbing up and over one another like savages. I gazed in amazement. What’s with that?

Then one morning, devastation. I went out to the garden and was greeted with the horrific site of everything on the ground. The trellis twine proved weaker than the plants. It was impossible to pick them up without breaking them. It was one of those parenting moments when you think, “I’ve really screwed this up.”

But the plants? Liberated! They continued to sprawl up and over everything within reach. Unbridled.

And what about Discipline? Let’s just say it wasn’t worth the battle. To my chagrin, I let them have their own way.  My children are all free spirits, I reasoned.

Free indeed. Borderline insane. I stood in the middle of this scrambled mess and thought, “What have I unleashed here?”

The wind picked up and thrashed the plants with violence. They were shaken, but unmoved. The sun beat down on us with a density that sapped the energy of all my human and animal friends. The tomatoes only intensified. Even the ones on the bottom of the heap were turning a bright red.

Wait now … Red tomatoes? I had rarely seen such a thing in my garden.

I tentatively tried one. Whoaaa. These weren’t just any sort of red tomato. These were explode-in-your-mouth sweet juicy tomatoes that get all over your clothes. These were tomatoes that make you realize why you grow your own and why you must every year until you die.

I was so proud. Kind of like one of those parenting moments when you get personal satisfaction from your progeny’s accomplishments, when deep-down you know all you did was provide a little food and water now and then and maybe root from the sidelines occasionally.

They were unstoppable. I had never seen such tomatoes. I picked them right and left and down the center and the more I picked, the more determined they were to keep on producing. Or at least trying. Kind of like my teenagers, but we won’t go there.

And when the early frosts of October hit us sharp and sudden, it was not, after all, totally unexpected. I tried desperately to protect them with plastic, draping it over the trellis framework and weighing it down with bricks. The wind ignored my efforts, picking up that tarp and flapping it wildly, laughing at me – hysterically laughing at me, I might add. I bravely grabbed that tarp and tried to anchor it down. It was like an incredibly large and powerful kite. It threatened to pick me up and toss me to the clouds, and I seriously thought I might become a Darwin Award statistic.

There finally came that moment when I knew it was of no further use. It was time to lay my plants to rest. I waited for a calm and thoughtful morning and gratefully picked large bowls of the remaining red fruits, enough to can a couple batches with which to remember the summer in the darkest of winter.

Then came the reality check: what to do with all the green ones? There were a lot. I do mean a LOT. I couldn’t just let them wither. I couldn’t just toss them on the compost heap like a discarded relationship (not that I have those).

You can only eat so many fried green tomatoes.

I made some Piccalilli-type relish, but we aren’t big pickle fans.

Hmmm….

Well, it turns out there are a lot of things you can do with green tomatoes: pickled green tomatoes, green tomato salsa, green tomato anything-goes casseroles, even green tomato pie. You can sneak them into cakes, combine them with berries into jams, and layer them with mushrooms in lasagna….

Then there’s Green Tomato Mincemeat, which brings visions of the Crusaders returning from the Holy Land, and the 3 spices (cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves), representing gifts to the Christ child from wise kings. Ok – maybe that’s not your vision. Maybe it’s more like jolly old Englishmen eating shredded meat and lard and dying early of cardiac arrest. I looked at a lot of recipes – some that used suet (no thank you); some that required a kettle that could hold nearly 20 quarts of ingredients (yikes!); some that required a certain number of fruits (25 small, medium, or large – how big is a large?).

And then I came across the following recipe, featured in Renee Shepherd’s book, “More Recipes from a Kitchen Garden.” (Also see her earlier book, “Recipes from a Kitchen Garden.”) It has a balance of green tomatoes and apples (which we also have in abundance right now), has just the right amount of spice, and is cooked in batches that are easy to manage. This recipe has worked particularly well for me. In fact, I like it so much, I’ve canned 14 quarts of this stuff so far. Seriously. The stuff is that addictive.

Jars of green tomato mincemeat (left) and relish (right)

The main thing I changed was that I threw in a blended-up orange (along with the lemon) instead of the brandy (Ahm. I drank the brandy. I know the brandy is traditional, but I needed it for medicinal purposes. With the H1N1 around, one can never be too careful). Oh, and on one batch, I forgot to add the butter (probably after I drank the brandy) – but it still turned out just fine. You simply toss everything into a pot and cook it down – but watch it carefully when it gets thick so it doesn’t burn. Actually, you have to do more than watch it – you have to stir it. You also have to taste it repeatedly to make sure it’s right, which you know it is, but then you taste it again anyway. And again. Be sure to leave some to put in the jars.

I asked Renee Shepherd permission to print her recipe, and I just received a personal response saying this recipe originally comes from Beth Benjamin, the Horticultural Advisor at Renee’s Garden, for whom this recipe is a family holiday tradition.

Be sure to check out Renee’s Garden website. She collects seeds from all over the world, has a keen appreciation for the link between culture and food, is dedicated toward sustainable practices, and shares her bounty of garden tips, recipes, and lore with everyone who stops in. She is who I want to be when I grow up. At the very least, her site is definitely a place to spend some time in those January months when you are dreaming about spring.  Be sure to refer to her tips on garden planning. And you might want to bookmark it so you can go back and read her growing tips and especially to participate in the “Garden Community” section. Oh – and if you’re looking for recipes for things like arugula or zucchini (I so needed you a couple of months ago!), her site is the place to go. Although I might get a kickback if you buy her books from Amazon, I just checked the Amazon site and it looks like all they have are used ones. You can buy her books directly from the Renee’s Garden website right here.

And now for the recipe, which is sure to become one of our family holiday traditions as well:

Benjamin’s Green Tomato Mincemeat

7 cups finely chopped very green tomatoes
7 cups finely chopped tart, firm green apples (I used Gravenstein – not green)
1 whole lemon, finely chopped or ground, including rind
3 cups raisins
3 cups firmly packed brown sugar
1 cup white sugar
3 tablespoons light molasses
1 ½ cups apple cider vinegar
½ cup brandy (or as you may be inclined. An orange makes a good substitute, chopped or blended, rind and all)
1 tablespoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground cloves
¾ teaspoon ground allspice
¾ teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 ½ teaspoons salt
¾ teaspoon ground black pepper
½ cup butter (wait until the end to add this!)

Mix together all ingredients except butter in a deep, heavy-bottomed kettle. Bring to a boil and immediately turn down heat so mixture will bubble gently. Cook uncovered over medium to low heat, stirring regularly to prevent sticking, for 3 hours or until mixture is thick and liquid is absorbed. (Watch and lower heat if mixture is spattering.) After about an hour and a half, begin to taste often (SEE – the recipe says so!). If liquid seems to be evaporating too quickly, add additional vinegar or brandy, depending on taste (This is a direct quote. Personally, I would taste that brandy before adding, for sure). If mixture seems too tart, add more sugar. Once mincemeat is cooked down to desired thickness, mix in butter a little bit at a time until well combined. Can or freeze, or store in the refrigerator for up to a month. Makes 3 quarts of rich aromatic spicy-brown mincemeat, enough for 5 small pies.

***

So – Don’t let those green tomatoes go to waste! Mincemeat pies are so easy when you make your own mock mincemeat! Share with family and friends for a happy holiday or for no particular reason!

CHEERS!

Incredible summer that it was, we also managed to get enough RED ones to inspire the red tomato dance with wild abandon, something I won’t post on YouTube just yet, but believe me, my tomatoes were something to behold!

And CORN! To experience the taste of just-picked sweet corn is a rare thing in the maritime Northwest, where people have no concept of measuring summer days by number of heat units.

Harvest time is crazy! September and October flew by with a flurry of “must dos” before the winds and rains drove all but the soggy hardy indoors: garlic to plant & more to deliver, fall crops to mulch and put under cover, potatoes to dig, tomatoes to can, corn to freeze, and fruits and jams…

The winds picked up in early October, just after the garlic was tucked snugly in the ground. The tarp over my tomato trellis was ripping like a flag on a stormy sea. I scrambled to pick a peck of green tomatoes, along with a nice supply of baby pie pumpkins. The winds blew harder. Apples literally rained from the trees.

What to do with four trees full of apples – heirloom Gravensteins – juicy and tart. Too few to sell commercially – too many for just family and friends. Over the next few days, I picked 6 boxes of windfalls and put them out by the road with a sign: Free Apples. One by one they disappeared.

And THAT, exactly, is what I love about fall: with a seemingly endless list of tasks and an urgency you can smell in the damp mornings when the fog rolls in across the fields - there comes a moment when you have to pause and marvel at the sheer abundance of what you have – and with that, the appreciation of the opportunity it gives you to share that abundance with complete strangers.

And speaking of sharing, before I move on to other things, I must share with you what is quite possibly the best zucchini bread recipe ever. I have at least two dozen loaves of this in my freezer and have given more than a dozen away.

I have adapted this recipe from “Recipes from America’s Small Farms – Fresh Ideas for the Season’s Bounty“ by Joanne Lamb Hayes and Lori Stein with Maura Webber (link also provided in the right column). I particularly relate to this book because the recipes are accessible (no exotic ingredients), they revolve around what is in season, and they are organized according to parts of the plant (leaves, stalks and stems, seeds and pods, roots and tubers, etc.). There are loads of tips on how to prepare specialty items found at farmers’ markets, such as mesclun, arugula, nasturtium flowers, and garlic scapes. And although it’s a little heavy on the Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) idea (which I do support), the short write-ups on the family farms from whom the recipes are featured makes you feel like they could be just down the road. Highly recommended.

One more thing before the recipe: I feel the need to clarify that I would not call myself devious in my sharing the abundance of zucchini. Au contraire. I considered stamping across my forehead, “Zucchini’s not for Weenies.” I never resorted to leaving zucchinis in people’s cars or on doorsteps and then running. No. But I do admit to cleverly disguising (er, I mean, enhancing) the zucchini behind nuts, raisins, and even chocolate chips. And after our annual family pumpkin-carving party, I smiled genuinely as I gave each unsuspecting child a loaf to take home with them. Each of them smiled in return and said “thank you” (good children that they are). Little did they know what I meant when I said, “Trick or Treat!”

(One more caveat: if you have followed other recipes I have posted, you will know this is really more of a guideline.)

And now….(finally)….without further fanfare….

A Darn Good Recipe for Zucchini-Bran Bread (makes four 8-inch loaves) (My thanks extended to Beth Staggenborg of Boulder Belt CSA in Cincinnati, Ohio.)

Initial prep:

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F. Grease your pans.

Mix together wet stuff & sweeteners:

6 eggs
1 c vegetable oil
1 c brown sugar (half brown and half raw is also good)
¼ c molasses (for dark bread) or honey (for light)

Mix together dry stuff:

4 c flour (whole wheat or white/wheat combo)
1 c oat bran
1/3 c wheat germ
2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1 T ginger (optional – but good)
1 tsp salt
1 T baking powder

Mix the wet & dry (not too much – it will get mixed more in the next step)

Fold in the not-so-secret ingredients:

6-8 c grated zucchini (I have used up to 10 c!)
1 c chopped nuts
1 c raisins
Chocolate chips – couple handfuls (optional)
Other ideas: fresh ginger – grate in a bit if you have it. Orange zest is also good.

And to Complete…

Divide the batter. Bake about 40 minutes or so. Less for smaller pans. Cool on a wire rack for 15 minutes before slicing.

Easy!

Essentially, my version has less oil, less sugar, more zucchini, and a few more spices than that in the Small Farm cookbook recipe.

Remember,  ’tis the season – Share the Abundance!

This afternoon, I strolled (ok – hobbled – but that’s for another post) through the garden and saw a very simple, fast, easy, and gourmet (!) dinner before me: first-of-the-season garlic scapes, first snow peas, salad greens, & thinnings – all tossed together in a tortilla. Here’s the recipe (loosely defined — I don’t really believe in recipes, just guidelines):

Spring Garden Tour Tortillas

• A dozen garlic scapes, coarsely chopped
• Several handfuls of snow peas
• A few beet thinnings – some with little beets (chop stems; separate out leaves)
• A few chard thinnings (chop stems; separate out leaves)
• Some radish thinnings (separate leaves)
• Numerous leaves of red & green leafed lettuce (we have tons!)
• Numerous leaves of spinach
• Also used: some leftover chicken, chopped (optional – this could also be meatless), some olive oil,  a little balsamic vinegar, and some tortillas.

Just an aside – I don’t believe in wasting anything. I feed scraggly hairy roots to my worms, but eat just about everything else. Stems are good. Radish leaves loose their prickles when lightly cooked. But the idea here is to get creative with whatever you have on hand. Here we go:

Heat a frying pan hot – toss in a little olive oil – and then toss in the scapes, peas, the little beets, & stems from the beets & chard. Cook a couple minutes at most.

Snack on the radishes while you cook everything.

Toss in the chicken, give it a stir, & the chopped greens (beet leaves, chard, radish tops). Sprinkle with a little balsamic vinegar – not much, because it can be overpowering – just enough to give it a little tang. Stir & cover.

As soon as the greens are wilted (about 1 minute), fill a tortilla, top with fresh lettuces & spinach, and eat. The wilted greens add a bit of moisture to the mix, so you might have to tilt the pan to let it drain to one side. Cheese would also be good, but some of us are lactose-sensitive, and it is just fine without. Chopped nuts might be nice. Too bad I forgot chopped chives!

Fast – fresh – fabulous – fun – several reasons to grow your own or buy from your neighbor!