Here it is, folks, my official strategy for success at NaBloPoMo 2009:
When in doubt, write about food.
That’s it, but oh, what a difference it makes! Last year I had no strategy, no plan, no drafts folder, no ace up my sleeve for those crappy days when bike rides were more appealing than blogging, and frankly, it showed: I managed 19 posts in 30 days, and that was a struggle.
But this time around, I’m determined to do the full month, and here is how: Though I am full of opinions about many many (many!) things, food is probably the biggest issue that gets me all riled up. So, be ready for the onslaught of recipes and rants, because it’s coming.
What about you? Are you winging it, or is there a method to your madness?
(Cross-posted to the QCB discussion forum at the NaBloPoMo site, because I’m devious like that)
lokum, aka turkish delight, served after this year's thanksgiving dinner at my parents' house in toronto
Filed under: Foodie
i made green green tomato and ginger jam, and am rather undecided about it: on one hand, it’s nicely jam-like with a good bit of sweetness and some pep from the ginger, but then it’s also got that floral green tomato flavour that is a little unusual and unexpected.
i think the problem is that i’m not sure if i like my green tomatoes to be sweet, though i certainly love green tomatoes in spicy salsas and chutney. i look at the jam and i expect it to taste differently than it does, which i realize really isn’t fair: those green tomatoes are trying their damnedest to be delicious, and i oughta appreciate their work.
at any rate, maybe you already know you like green tomato jam, or have enough green tomatoes kicking around that you don’t mind risking some on this project: my recipe is below, based on a few other versions from various websites and cookbooks.
feral geographer’s green tomato and ginger jam
yields ~ 10 cups
4.5 lbs hard green tomatoes, cored and diced
3 cups sugar (i used brown)
1/2 cup candied ginger, minced
1/2 cup lemon juice
2 tsp pomona universal pectin powder
2 tsp pomona calcium water (comes with pectin)
- combine the tomatoes, 2 cups of the sugar, and the ginger in a large bowl, and let sit in the fridge overnight.
- the next day, put the mixture into a large saucepan and add the lemon juice and calcium water.
- bring to boil, stirring frequently.
- in a small bowl, combine the remaining 1 cup of sugar with the pectin powder.
- add the sugar and pectin mixture to the tomato mixture, and stir well.
- return to boil, stirring frequently, then remove from heat.
- ladle into hot sterilized jars and seal as per standard canning procedures, and process in a hot water bath for 10 minutes
a few notes:
i happened to have a bunch of candied ginger laying around, so that’s why i used it. if you wanted to experiment, try using smaller amounts of the fresh stuff, or even some powdered root.
ditto, the sugar: brown is all i had, but others would be fine too. honey could add a nice dimension!
likewise, i used the pomona because i had it on hand, and i don’t like long-cooked jams because i find they all get a similar cooked-sugar taste to them. leave out the pectin entirely if you don’t mind a runny product, or if you don’t mind simmering the jam until it thickens to your liking.
some of the recipes recommended seeding the tomatoes, but i like the look of the seeds and really couldn’t be bothered.
yum, jam on toast!
marisa from food in jars was right: that dill pickle recipe of hers works just as well with zucchini as with cucumber. i used one of those massive zukes, cutting it into spears like i did for the cucumbers, and made many jars. they are crisp and delicious!
it turns out that the farmer for whom i was doing this actually doesn’t like dill pickles, but she was gracious about it and said she’d give them away as gifts. this same farmer also recently told me that she had more green tomatoes for me, but if i wanted to make more salsa, requested that i please leave out the curry.
huh?
i suggested that she was referring to the cumin with which i lightly flavoured the salsa, and farmer insisted that no, it was definitely “curry”.
sure, whatever, i said, mentally noting that the client does not like cumin.
this prompted oats and i to make mean jokes about honkies who don’t know spice, cuz that’s the kind of (honky) snobs we are.
i ran out of jars last week. there were a few 1 litre ones kicking around, but there was nothing that i’d want to use for the jam or pickles that were on my to-do list.
after turning up nothing at any of the thrift stores (!!!), and getting no answer from any of the online classified ads to which i replied, i broke down and did something i’d never done before… like, ever: i went to s@feway and bought a dozen new 250 mL jars.
they cost $15!!! ack!
then i got a phone call from one of the ads: 9 dozen salmon canning jars for $40, and they’d even deliver. woo hoo! i returned the new jars to the grocery store, breathing a sigh of relief that i wouldn’t have to break my pledge to keep a small(er) footprint with this canning obsession.
one of my classmates is a former logger from a small coastal community, and i asked him if he fished, hoping for a free salmon hook-up. turns out that he’d done a lot of crab fishing between forest contracts, but paid top price for his fish just like everyone else. yesterday, he brought me a jar of his salmon, and asked for the jar back; i did him one better, and returned from my trip home at lunch with a jar of dill pickles instead.
we’re leaving at an unholy hour tomorrow morning for our trip to ontario, and i’m trying to get a million things done while a puppy tries to sleep on my lap. i’m going to miss him.
latest batch of bread-and-butter pickles at left, salmon in jar turned on side in rear centre, zucchini dill pickle in bowl at front centre, jar of zucchini dills at right.
a crappy day, due to the wearing effects of spending my daylight hours with immature people whose overly-brandished opinions offend me.
actually, it’s not their opinions: it’s their casual bigotry, which is too fucking thoughtless to be granted the status of “opinion”.
many of the older students have graduated from our program in these past few days, including the ones with whom i had the most in common, leaving me surrounded by (young, white, able-bodied, privileged, male) offensive loudmouths.
i don’t really want to talk about it; i just want to cook.
with that in mind, i’m going to tell you how i make bread.
*****
last winter, i had a bread machine with which i produced delicious wholewheat molasses bread. it was pretty damn good, but required too many ingredients for daily baking. after hunting around for something simpler, i got really into making no-knead bread, which i’d previously discounted as another odd foodie obsession of my father’s. once i started making it myself, i too was hooked, because the bread is just so tasty. it reminds me of the loaves from the greek bakery i went to as a kid, that was on the danforth around the corner from my dad’s place.
the original recipe that i used came from the new y0rk t!mes; this is my wholewheat version. it’s long, but only cuz there’s more technique than ingredients.
please note that part of that technique is loooooooooooong rising periods. so, it’s less work, but it still takes awhile. plan ahead for good bread!
to make this bread, you need a cast iron pot, with a lid. i bought mine new for $100 (as one of the first pieces of mine and oats’ shared property – the other was a crockpot! yes, we are *so* homo), but you can find them cheaper and also secondhand. cast iron is awesome for all sorts of cooking, and i highly recommend investing in a good pot.
fg’s wholewheat and flax seed no-knead bread
makes 2 loaves
4 cups wholewheat flour (plus more for dusting)
2 cups white flour
2 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoon yeast
3 cups warm water
1/4 cup flax seeds
(PART 1 – i usually do this part at bedtime)
turn the oven on to low. let it warm for a minute, then turn it off. whenever i refer to a “warm oven”, this is what i mean. it’s not hot; you should still be able to touch inside walls quite comfortably.
in a big bowl (or saucepan!), combine all the ingredients except the flax seeds.
you’ll get a shaggy, sticky dough. cover the bowl with a plate or plastic bag (i use my big saucepan cuz it has a lid), and place the whole thing in the warm oven for ~8 hours.
(PART 2 – i usually do this part at breakfast)
remove your dough from the oven; it should look a bit wet, have smoothed out in the bowl, and have some small holes on the surface.
warm the oven again, re-cover the dough, and put it back in the oven for another ~8 hours.
(PART 3 – i usually do this part after school/work)
take the dough back out of the oven, and warm the oven again. the dough should now look even wetter, and have lots of little bubbles on the surface.
dust a clean counter or large cutting board with a thick coating of flour, and sprinkle it with flax seeds.
dump your dough out into the centre of the floured area, using a spoon to get all the stringy bits if necessary.
now that your dough has worked so hard, let it rest for about 15 minutes.
working with one half of the dough at a time, shaped it into tidy round loaves by pinching the outer edge, pulling it up, and pushing it down again into the centre, as demonstrated below.
dust a clean tea towel with flour, and place the loaves on half of it, folded side down.
fold the other half of the tea towel over the loaves, tuck in the edge a little, and put back into the oven to rise.
(PART 4 – i usually do this right before dinner)
after ~1 hour, remove the loaves. they should have gotten much bigger!
cover them again, and set them aside somewhere warmish and not draftly (the counter is probably fine).
put your cast iron pot in the oven, and turn it all the way up to 450 degrees celcius. let it heat for 1/2 hour.
carefully remove your hot pot from the oven, and dump in one of the lumps of dough, with the smooth side down.
cover it with a lid, pop it back in the oven, and bake for 1/2 hour.
voila!
remove the loaf to a rack to cool, and repeat with the other lump of dough.
while that one’s baking, grab a knife and cut yourself a nice slice of that first loaf.
savour its flavour and texture, and take pride in the fact that your made it with your own hands, because you are worth it. no matter what the homophobic bastards say, your life is worth celebrating.
today we went to visit with our soon-to-be new family member, aka the cutest little puppy in the world. he’s about 8 weeks old now, and has doubled in size since we last saw him 4 weeks ago. we took him out for a few hours, showing him off to friends and strangers, and walking around the neighbourhood. i write “walking” but really we were the ones who did most of that, with him being carried: the collar we’d bought for him is too big, he has no concept of what a leash is, and frankly he’s still so small that it’d be ridiculous to expect him to keep up with us.
in picking him up from his current home, we finally met the woman who owns the momma dog, aka MD. to say she was not what we’d pictured is an understatement, mostly due to her age: i’d be shocked if she’s more than twenty years old. as we’d told her we would, we gave her $40 to cover some of the costs of puppy food and supplies. once we’d left her apartment and had a chance to confer, we decided that we’d best give her that again sometime soon. it puts all the other sketchiness about the puppy dealing in perspective, and now i’m wondering if she might have *needed* to sell the pups, simply for some cash.
we’ve chosen a name that is slightly similar to the one he was given at birth, but different enough that it’s part of our new life together. i’m debating over what to call him here on the blog: i could keep calling him “mono” (the birth name), or i could come up with something new.
i once knew someone who named their dog “theory”, which made me laugh because dogs are very much the opposite of theoretical discourse. in fact, they are excellent reminder of the importance of action. so, oats suggested that we continue with the joke by naming our pup “practice”. this could be fitting, not only because of how he will keep us in the now, but also because of the frequent comment we’ve been hearing from friends: “you’re getting a puppy as practice for a baby!”
while we were out, oats’ coworker came by our place and dropped off a couple bushels of pears from her tree. it was a lovely gesture, especially because she only wants a few jars of jam in exchange. however, they’re still sitting out there, right where she left them, because the fridge is full of peppers, the zucchinis are on the floor in the corner of the kitchen, there’s bread and butter pickles cooking on the stove, and i’ve got 24 jars of spicy peach chutney cooling on the counter. i feel satisfied, but on the verge of being overwhelmed. it’s a fine line, and those pears aren’t entering the house until i know i can cope with them.
Filed under: Foodie
my life has pretty much revolved around canning as of late. well, that and being ill, and caring for poor oats, who came down with pneumonia. fun times at our house, yessirree! at least all the steam from the canning kettle is good for easing the coughs.
as i mentioned earlier, i’m cutting my canning costs drastically this year by trading my skills in exchange for a portions of produce. the angry black duck and i *did* pay for 125 lbs of tomatoes which we canned this past saturday (a story in itself), but aside from that i’m going with what people give me.
for the most part, it’s an excellent arrangement, because i’d otherwise never be able to afford the variety of organic fruits and veggies that are coming my way. the disadvantages are that i hafta make what people want, and i sometimes get stuff that i wouldn’t choose to work with, such as… HUMONGOUS ZUCCHINIS.
i have 10 of these. ten.
or, say, 50 lbs of gigantic lemon cucumbers.
in case you think this photo is something i stitched together using my incredible digital imaging prowess, here’s some further proof, aka the current state of our fridge:
the requested product from the supplier of these magnificent fruit is dill pickles. lots and lots of them.
i wasn’t particularly keen on the dill pickle recipe in the joy of cooking (weak brine), nor any others from the cookbooks that were laying around, so i decided to try out the garlic version over at food in jars, which is by far my most favourite food blog.
first things first, however: how the hell do i deal with stupidly large cucumbers?
as you can see, they’ve gotten so ripe that the seeds are too developed to be nice eating, so i decided to scoop out all the innards.
once that was done, it was logical to make short spears.
i tried them out in a jar, and they fit perfectly! so, i got everything else organized: clean jars from dishwasher into oven to stay hot (and sterile), brine on one burner, hot water bath on another, plus bowls of peeled garlic cloves and some fresh dill blossoms on the counter. i changed the recipe a little: omitted the chili and peppercorns, added the fresh dill because i had it on hand, and substituted regular white vinegar for the apple cider vinegar called for in Marisa’s recipe. also, i doubled everything, in an attempt to get through as many of the cukes as possible.
i really like the way the fresh dill looks, pressed up against the glass like a preserved botanical specimen.
this is the finished product, cooling after the water bath. i only ended up making 14 jars, which means that i’ve got at least a couple more evenings of canning ahead of me before the fridge is cleared out. even then, it’ll be a brief respite, because the same farmer has tomatillos that need to be salsa-fied and there’s more zucchini coming too. egads.
–
fg’s giant garlic dill pickles (adapted from Garlic Dill Pickles at www.foodinjars.com)
Makes approximately 14 pints (depending on size of cucumbers pieces)
8 lbs sliced sliced pickling cucumbers (in spears!)
8 cups vinegar
8 cups water
3/4 cup pickling salt
28 peeled garlic cloves (2 per jar)
14 teaspoons dill seed (1 per jar))
14 fresh dill blossoms (seed heads)
wash and slice the cucumbers, removing seeds if necessary.
bring vinegar, water and salt to a simmer in a big pot.
get your hot water bath going now too, so that it’s boiling when you’re ready to process.
put two garlic cloves, a dill blossom, and a teaspoon of dill seeds into each hot sterilized jar. arrange the cucumber spears in the jar, firmly packed. avoid doing them too tightly, or your jars will break in the water bath. trust me, i’m an expert at breaking things, especially while canning.
add hot brine to jars to within ½ inch of rim.
add lids and screw bands, then process in boiling water bath for 10 minutes.
i usually wait 2 weeks to eat pickles, so that they have time to get all yummy. i don’t know these ones will taste over time, seeing as they’re bizarre fruit and it’s a new recipe, therefore will hafta let you know the verdict… i sure am looking forward to finding out.
the cool thing about moving back into an apartment that used to be my home at an earlier point in time is that it’s easier to know what needs to change.
usually, i’m the kind of person who takes months to get a place feeling like it’s lived in. last time i moved into this apartment, it was july of 2008, and i still had full boxes and empty walls in december. the only reason the artwork finally got hung is that oats did it for me as part of helping me set up for my solstice party. (this is also amusing because a freak snow storm hit that afternoon and of the forty or so invited guests, the only people who showed were oats, my upstairs neighbours, my bff, and my landscaper friends whose truck has 4-wheel drive. but hey, the apartment looked awesome!)
the point being, this time around i’m a lot more prepared. it’s a bit tricky since we’re now working with oats’ furniture instead of just mine, but for the most part i’ve got a handle on where things should go. there’s glasses in the cupboard next to the fridge, and we’re hanging old windows from the bedroom ceiling to create a defined office/sewing area in the corner near the door. guests and house-sitters will be annoyed that i’m again choosing the large drawer around by the window to hold cutlery, instead of the more obvious one next to the sink, but i’m sticking to my guns on that one. everything else is up for debate!
i used to cram dry goods into the same crowded cupboards where my dishes lived, which became an unsustainable activity and would be impossible with this household. oats and i cook even more than i did on my own, and also prefer to store a larger variety and much larger quantities of foods. with that in mind, the other night i tackled a tall shallow closet on the far side of our eat-in kitchen.
the last time i lived here, i had my computer printer and scanner on one of the shelves (oddly yet luckily, there is an electrical outlet in the ceiling of the closet!), plus different sorts of paper for printing. there was a vacuum cleaner in the bottom area, some boxes of fasteners, my toolbox, a bundle of kites (4 or 5?), and a couple big stereo speakers that came from a free pile (and went back to a free pile when i moved out). i think my canning was on the top shelf. i don’t know what else filled all the space. trash, garbage, and treasures that are hopefully making someone else happy cuz fuck knows i didn’t need them.
you know what i do need, however?
you know what would make me happy?
a pantry. a storage area that is full of dry/sealed food, where it is accessible yet safe. the kind of closet that i can open at the end of a rough day, and feel relief simply by seeing the possibilities it presents. even if school is frustrating, people are mean, and money is tight, i can bake muffins or sprout beans or roast some spiced veggies or otherwise make something from not much of anything.
it’s a practical tool for securing my belief in myself.
with some random boards that were kicking around (part of a wooden leaf support for an extending table, ballou’s former sky bridge to the skylight in oats’ old apartment, a rail from a futon frame that i gave away years ago, scraps from my subletter’s handmade kayak paddle), i added shelves between the existing ones, and tucked away all the bagged goods into labeled jars. the canning is spread throughout the back rows of all the shelves because there’s more of it this year and it’s heavy enough to bow the wood on its own. i’ve got one lower shelf devoted to kitchen appliances, and though the floor will soon become the puppy-safe shoe stash, for now it’s occupied by a 50 lb bag of onions.
i’m so pleased. in the past, right about now is when i’d feel a desperate need to dance around the kitchen while singing along with jawbreaker in order to regain punk points lost by my unrepentent love for organized food storage, but i’m over that. really, my punk rock ideology is all about do-it-yourself, and a good fucking pantry is allowing me to do-it-myself more than ever. i’m going to go bake some bread now, and maybe can some peach chutney.
it’s occurred to me that a lot of other people don’t neglect their blogs when they’re canning – in fact, they actually blog about it. so, here’s what’s going on: i love putting up food in jars, grew up learning it from my family, and began doing it on my own a few years ago.
this harvest season, having just returned from traveling, i found myself with a hell of a lot more time than money. so, i put ads on the local online classifieds, offering to turn local produce into jam/jelly/chutney/whatever in exchange for a share in it. to say this scheme worked is an understatement: i quickly took down the ads, because i connected with two excellent clients who could each provide me with as much produce as i’d have time to stuff into jars.
one client works at a farm, and has been clearing out last year’s stuff from her freezers to make room for the new crop: among other things, she had a couple hundred pounds of green tomatoes, and i’ve become very practiced at turning out green tomato salsa.
the other client runs a market garden and agri-therapy program for kids with disabilities and adults who’ve survived brain injuries. they need to make sure that their produce doesn’t rot if they can’t sell it all once, and they also like specialty products for selling at their market stall. considering that i’m no commercial canner, i’m not sure how legal this is, but hey: they like my jam, and they’ve declared themselves liable for it! so far all i’ve done for them is blackberry jam, but there should be a boom in a couple weeks as the tomato crops come in full force.
between these two good folks, plus the donations of my friends, and the efforts of my fruit-scavenging lover, i’ve got more home-canned goods than i’ve ever had in my entire life. i’m not sure if it’ll get us through the winter without buying imported/cold-stored fruit, but at least we won’t need to buy salsa any time soon.
this is my Thekla steam juice extractor - It actually isn't that great for blackberries, and I'd never do that again, but it's absolutely RAD for extracting grape juice. i picked it up for $14 at a thrift store last summer on my birthday - a great gift to myself
i just got back from seeing julie and julia, and as much as i’m saddened to hear that jc was a raging homophobe, and off course the film has nothing on the book, i liked it. that’s all i have to say for now, as i’m overwhelmed with school, a couple web contracts, and my life. we’re moving and i’m canning jams/jellies/salsa/vinegar syrups, and things are good. i’m also preparing the dance music for a couple of upcoming weddings, which is why i’m now going to leave you with this gem:
i started school on tuesday and thus far, it’s great, though VERY time consuming. between that and the canning, plus the fact that i have amazing friends and a new bike… well, yeah: the writing is not happening.
but that’s what summer is for!
my bike and oats' on the ferry to vesuvius, loaded down with gear during last weekend's bike trip
