This one is not going to be sappy. I've done that past Mother's Days, so I've given myself permission to be a little snarky.
* The main reason I like Mother's Day is that I can do anything I want and not feel guilt. I realize that part of this equation is me allowing myself not to feel guilt, and I can choose that any day I want. But I read a novel, mostly lying down, partly while sipping limoncello. I think it is the same feeling my husband must get while watching the U.S. Open on Father's Day. With my limoncello, I had crackers with goat cheese and pepper jelly. I realized as I was snacking, quite satisfactorily, that I had made the limoncello, the goat cheese, and the pepper jelly. I patted myself on the back. It is one of those accomplishments that only I can appreciate. I mean seriously, what kid or husband ever says, "My wife/Mom makes the best pepper jelly."
* On Mother's Day--I can have the last word. Here again, I could assert myself more on other days, but I choose not to for whatever reason. But on Mother's Day, I am given this pass, and I feel empowered. It makes me a little sad that this only happens twice a year--my birthday being the other occasion. This latest instance really makes me want to stand up for myself more. We have a little game in our family. My daughter was born on an odd date; my son on a even. So if there is an impasse of sorts, an even handed dispute to be solved or a an extra cookie to hand out, we bow to the "favorite" of the day as determined by whether it is an odd or even date. (There are more odd days during the year, but my son was an only child and favorite for three years before his sister came along.) My husband was born on the 28th, and I was born on the 21st. I am beginning to think I should be granted "last word" status on odd days.
*The kitchen fairy comes more often on Mother's day weekend for which I am most appreciative. (The kitchen fairy cleans the kitchen after Shiva as Chef is done with the place.) I still cooked (made my mess), but that is because I don't want to relinquish control of my kitchen and meal planning. We had Chicken Marsala over polenta with steamed broccoli.
* Saturday night Mark says to me, "I wanted to get you a plant or something that you can look at more than just once like a bunch flowers or card on Mother's Day, but I didn't know what to pick out. Do you want to ride to the greenhouse and pick out some flowers?" Guys, if you are thinking of saying this--DON'T. This is what I heard, "I didn't get you anything yet. Do you want to go out and buy your own present?" In Mark's defense, when I told him I wasn't interested in running out to the greenhouse, he did go himself on the sly and buy some perennials. I don't need a present, per se. But I do value it greatly when someone has thought ahead and planned something. It makes a person feel cherished and appreciated. Last minute arrangements (and I am not immune to this behavior) reek of obligation instead of endearment.
*We went to J. Maki winery. On Mother's Day and Father's Day they are selling their world reknowned champagne (They call it that even though it is a French designation) by the glass. The champagne was good but there was no fanfare for the event. No table to sit outside and enjoy. No music. We should have gone to Moondancer Winery which has the ambiance--but in my opinion, their burgeoning popularity has encouraged them to release wines that aren't quite ready. Mark did take me to the winery on my request--he had never been there-- and we enjoyed sitting on the stone wall overlooking the vineyards and sipping our Blanc de Blanc and Blanc de Noir. A nice experience, but I am sure that for Father's Day Mark will just want to stay put, smoke some ribs, pop open a local beer, and watch the U.S. Open.
Showing posts with label cooking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cooking. Show all posts
Monday, May 11, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
Recipe redux
My Friday morning indulgence is Grey's Anatomy. Husband is off to work. Son is off to school. Daughter is not up yet to start cyber school. Alone with the remote control. At some point in starting or pausing the show, I saw a clip from Good Morning America. They were showing off the week's worth of meals to feed a family of 4 for under $15 a meal. Is this hard? It's a rare night when I don't cook for my family. I be willing to bet I do the limbo under that $15 pole with regularity and dare I say...finesse. I think it is funny when magazines and TV shows proclaim, dinners under 500 calories or dinners that are good for the environment, or dinners that save you money, or dinners you can make in 30 minutes or less. Each of these tasks is a no-brainer. Want to impress me? How about a dinner that is light, filling, healthy, environmentally friendly, quick, cost-effective, AND that kids and grown-ups alike will love. (Doesn't quite all fit on the cover of a magazine--does it?). But basically, we the meal mavens weigh the pros and cons of each dinner we make against all of these standards. It is science, math, artistry (and at my house it often also includes a social studies lesson thrown in for sport). Let's add poetry. Haiku? Check out this Twitter user (Maureen) whose entries are complete recipes in 140 characters. She was featured in the N.Y. Times. Maybe it is all novelty rather than substance. But I love the spare minimalism of it all. Steps and ingredients are scaled back (which often translate into savings of $ and time). Chef's intuition is a must. I am thinking of trying the rhubarb upside-down cake, the Stout ice cream, Saffron Asparagus Orzo, spicy tofu. It's fun. Makes cooking into playtime. And in an economic recession, we all need as much joy as we can get.
*While I was a little harsh on GMA for their $15 menu story idea, it did help raise awareness of and increase donations for the food bank, which is another thing of joy.
*While I was a little harsh on GMA for their $15 menu story idea, it did help raise awareness of and increase donations for the food bank, which is another thing of joy.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Forbidden love
Have you ever been in love, but your family disapproves quite vociferously? Okay, well I haven't...until now. It's fall. A glorious time to be a foodie. Except for one fact: my family hates winter squash in any form. Now my kids have learned to like a lot of foods over the years. Squash will not be one of them. Why? Because my husband carries on. If I serve eggplant which my kids hate and Mark likes, he will tell them to eat it; it's good. But with squash, he vehemently defends their rights to mutiny at the dinner table. Now, really, I have never been one to care about specific dislikes when cooking for my family. That may sound cruel, but out of the three of them, someone is bound to object. Daughter dislikes barbecue sauce and mashed potatoes, but likes escargot and calamari. Son likes chili and ribs but is only recently learning to like salads. And husband doesn't like: corn (unless it is fresh creamed), winter squash, sweet potatoes, blueberries, cooked carrots or cauliflower or broccoli, peas, sauerkraut (except in a reuben), blue cheese, or lentils. (I am sure this is not the complete list.)
So my solution to all of this has always been to cook a variety of foods. Like the weather in Pennsylvania, if you don't like what you get--wait a day. I try to use ingredients in unique ways, varying my presentation of said disdainful food so that the customer may find one preparation tolerable. That's how we found out that Mark likes fresh creamed corn and reubens.
Back to the romance. I made a recipe last night that was easy and to die for: Spaghetti Squash gratin. I adapted it from Wegman's website. Nuke the squash, spoon it into a dish with some grated asagio cheese, fresh herbs (which I still have), light cream cheese. Bake. Voila. Perfection. Served it will some sausage. We had Kielbasa, but smoked sausage would have been a good choice, too. I don't often post recipes, but I will for this one because I loved it so much. Alas, I am banned from making it ever again, but lucky for me, I got to eat all the leftovers for lunch today. Think of me when you are eating this or better yet--invite me over.
Spaghetti Squash Gratin (aka Romeo)
SERVES 8 ACTIVE TIME: 15 min TOTAL TIME: 45 min
1 spaghetti squash (2-3 lbs), halved, stem to blossom end, and seeded
1 clove garlic chopped
Several T of fresh chopped herbs. I used oregano, thyme, and parsley
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp coarsely ground pepper
1 pkg (8 oz) Light cream cheese
1 cup grated Asiago cheese (You could use Parmesan or Romano)
You'll Need: 2-qt shallow casserole dish
Preheat oven to 450 degrees.
Place squash, skin side up (one half at a time), on microwave-safe dish; cover with microwave-safe plastic wrap. Microwave on HIGH 10-12 min, until tender. Let rest covered 10-15 min, until cool enough to handle; carefully remove plastic wrap to avoid steam.
Run tines of fork lengthwise over cut surface of squash to loosen spaghetti-like strands; scoop out strands. If necessary, drain excess liquid. Set aside.
Combine garlic, thyme, parsley, salt, pepper, cream cheese, and 2/3 cup cheese in small bowl. Fold into squash; place in shallow ovenproof casserole dish. Top with remaining cheese.
Bake 20 min or until lightly browned.
Chef Tip(s):May be cooked in individual ramekins.
So my solution to all of this has always been to cook a variety of foods. Like the weather in Pennsylvania, if you don't like what you get--wait a day. I try to use ingredients in unique ways, varying my presentation of said disdainful food so that the customer may find one preparation tolerable. That's how we found out that Mark likes fresh creamed corn and reubens.
Back to the romance. I made a recipe last night that was easy and to die for: Spaghetti Squash gratin. I adapted it from Wegman's website. Nuke the squash, spoon it into a dish with some grated asagio cheese, fresh herbs (which I still have), light cream cheese. Bake. Voila. Perfection. Served it will some sausage. We had Kielbasa, but smoked sausage would have been a good choice, too. I don't often post recipes, but I will for this one because I loved it so much. Alas, I am banned from making it ever again, but lucky for me, I got to eat all the leftovers for lunch today. Think of me when you are eating this or better yet--invite me over.
Spaghetti Squash Gratin (aka Romeo)
SERVES 8 ACTIVE TIME: 15 min TOTAL TIME: 45 min
1 spaghetti squash (2-3 lbs), halved, stem to blossom end, and seeded
1 clove garlic chopped
Several T of fresh chopped herbs. I used oregano, thyme, and parsley
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp coarsely ground pepper
1 pkg (8 oz) Light cream cheese
1 cup grated Asiago cheese (You could use Parmesan or Romano)
You'll Need: 2-qt shallow casserole dish
Preheat oven to 450 degrees.
Place squash, skin side up (one half at a time), on microwave-safe dish; cover with microwave-safe plastic wrap. Microwave on HIGH 10-12 min, until tender. Let rest covered 10-15 min, until cool enough to handle; carefully remove plastic wrap to avoid steam.
Run tines of fork lengthwise over cut surface of squash to loosen spaghetti-like strands; scoop out strands. If necessary, drain excess liquid. Set aside.
Combine garlic, thyme, parsley, salt, pepper, cream cheese, and 2/3 cup cheese in small bowl. Fold into squash; place in shallow ovenproof casserole dish. Top with remaining cheese.
Bake 20 min or until lightly browned.
Chef Tip(s):May be cooked in individual ramekins.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Garden of Earthly Delights
In the garden and in the local produce stand, the bounty is coming in, and I am in heaven. I love to cook and use fresh ingredients. The strawberries from the stand a mile from our house are the best they've ever been. I ate one the size of my fist today. It was red the whole way through and dripping juice. I ate it while standing over the sink--though eating it while taking a bath wouldn't have been a bad idea. I was reminded of the title of a SARK book--Eat Mangoes Naked. We've had strawberry shortcake; strawberry pancakes; strawberry pie; strawberry salad with arugula, feta and pecans; strawberry cheese coffee cake--not to mention plain strawberries.
We've had salads from the garden: the aforementioned strawberry feta; greens and croutons with Moosewood Restaurant's spinach basil dressing; spinach salad with a poppy seed dressing; and a shallot Gorgonzola salad that I copied from Jamie at Home on the Food Network. Jamie Oliver--in the garden and in the kitchen with his accent--just too cute for words. And his salad was amazing. It was a light meal that evening that we ended with homemade mint chocolate chip ice cream we made with mint from our garden. Tonight's salad is going to be Caesar Salad with seared Tuna steaks. Our appetizer with be basil and ricotta stuffed squash blossoms.
In other harvests, we've had arugula. I piled it on top of steak sandwiches with goat cheese and caramelized onions. I also make a mean arugula pesto with walnuts that was great over polenta and pasta. We had green gazpacho with arugula combined with spinach, parsley and dill to make a fresh taste and emerald color so vivid that it made me happy to have white bowls to hold it.
Today I picked sugar peas destined for a pasta dish with local asparagus, ricotta, and tarragon. My daughter has eaten raw spring onions after a quick rinse. Those have gone into our omelets and into just about everything else. Next year I'll have to plant a whole load of them. It was a first year for them, and they were a hit. They smell incredibly sharp and green when you first pull them from the earth. I picked my first pepper today. I have ten kinds. This was a poblano. I can make it into poblano vinaigrette or do up some chiles relleno. Since this one is solo, I may stuff it with cheese and black beans, bake it, and have it for a lunch. I have bunches of lavender hanging to make lavender sugar for baked goods. A few sprigs of the lavender went in the batch of limoncello I am currently steeping for summer imbibing on humid evenings when fireflies are nigh.
And yes, as I read this, I realize that I am just a little bit over the top with my cooking and vegetables. What do they call it in writing. . . purple prose? I can get downright greeting card shmoopy. But remember, I didn't do all this in one day. The above activity was over the last month. And it was a hectic month, so it was good to have a little glory. I am not sure my kids can appreciate all that comes to our table. They eat heartily and complain little. Both of them recently watched Supersize Me, so they are starting to be aware of food choices. We've sworn off fast food while they are on break from school and are starting to look out for organic food labels on pantry items such as pasta and grains. Eating like this--it isn't a loss--we'll hardly miss a french fry. Too much bounty on the back roads and in the backyard. I can only imagine what summer will bring.
We've had salads from the garden: the aforementioned strawberry feta; greens and croutons with Moosewood Restaurant's spinach basil dressing; spinach salad with a poppy seed dressing; and a shallot Gorgonzola salad that I copied from Jamie at Home on the Food Network. Jamie Oliver--in the garden and in the kitchen with his accent--just too cute for words. And his salad was amazing. It was a light meal that evening that we ended with homemade mint chocolate chip ice cream we made with mint from our garden. Tonight's salad is going to be Caesar Salad with seared Tuna steaks. Our appetizer with be basil and ricotta stuffed squash blossoms.
In other harvests, we've had arugula. I piled it on top of steak sandwiches with goat cheese and caramelized onions. I also make a mean arugula pesto with walnuts that was great over polenta and pasta. We had green gazpacho with arugula combined with spinach, parsley and dill to make a fresh taste and emerald color so vivid that it made me happy to have white bowls to hold it.
Today I picked sugar peas destined for a pasta dish with local asparagus, ricotta, and tarragon. My daughter has eaten raw spring onions after a quick rinse. Those have gone into our omelets and into just about everything else. Next year I'll have to plant a whole load of them. It was a first year for them, and they were a hit. They smell incredibly sharp and green when you first pull them from the earth. I picked my first pepper today. I have ten kinds. This was a poblano. I can make it into poblano vinaigrette or do up some chiles relleno. Since this one is solo, I may stuff it with cheese and black beans, bake it, and have it for a lunch. I have bunches of lavender hanging to make lavender sugar for baked goods. A few sprigs of the lavender went in the batch of limoncello I am currently steeping for summer imbibing on humid evenings when fireflies are nigh.
And yes, as I read this, I realize that I am just a little bit over the top with my cooking and vegetables. What do they call it in writing. . . purple prose? I can get downright greeting card shmoopy. But remember, I didn't do all this in one day. The above activity was over the last month. And it was a hectic month, so it was good to have a little glory. I am not sure my kids can appreciate all that comes to our table. They eat heartily and complain little. Both of them recently watched Supersize Me, so they are starting to be aware of food choices. We've sworn off fast food while they are on break from school and are starting to look out for organic food labels on pantry items such as pasta and grains. Eating like this--it isn't a loss--we'll hardly miss a french fry. Too much bounty on the back roads and in the backyard. I can only imagine what summer will bring.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Mother's Day
I intended to sit and read on Mother's Day. Total sloth. My husband's a good guy. He works hard around the house on the weekends. He doesn't mind doing it. In fact, I think he likes the feeling of accomplishment he gets from hard work. He is not much of a reader. I am, and I can get a sense of accomplishment from finishing a good book. I'm not sure that Mark understands that when he is busy mulching, and I am sitting the chaise lounge with a book, my faithful pug, and glass of iced tea. So I do what I can to look like I am industrious, too. But on Mother's Day, I have a free pass.
It didn't work out. I taught Sunday School--my last class of the year. After church we dropped off Mark's mom's present and went to look at flooring at Lowe's. Simultaneously, too many choices and not enough. And too scared to ask the nineteen-year-old salesman for his opinion. On the way out, we saw that they had Kitchen Aid mixers on sale. I'd been hinting about getting one ever since my daughter broke the old one. (Not my daughter's fault. She is truly on her way to being a fabulous cook like her mother. She was making cake batter, while I was cooking dinner. I told her that the beaters just came out and to pull harder. I forgot about the release switch and she pulled hard enough to send the mixer across the kitchen. OOPS!) Now Maren and I have a new mixer.
Had to try it out. One thing led to another, and I made...a mess. A batch of white chocolate macadamia nut cookie batter to freeze for later. A batch of rhubarb pecan muffins for breakfasts. A batch of strawberry rhubarb sauce for my vanilla yogurt. (No mixer required.) Pittsburgh Steak Salads. So, mother's day was spent in the kitchen, cooking and cleaning. I love the cooking part and I had an awesome day, but I missed my laziness opportunity. Mother's don't get them often.
It didn't work out. I taught Sunday School--my last class of the year. After church we dropped off Mark's mom's present and went to look at flooring at Lowe's. Simultaneously, too many choices and not enough. And too scared to ask the nineteen-year-old salesman for his opinion. On the way out, we saw that they had Kitchen Aid mixers on sale. I'd been hinting about getting one ever since my daughter broke the old one. (Not my daughter's fault. She is truly on her way to being a fabulous cook like her mother. She was making cake batter, while I was cooking dinner. I told her that the beaters just came out and to pull harder. I forgot about the release switch and she pulled hard enough to send the mixer across the kitchen. OOPS!) Now Maren and I have a new mixer.
Had to try it out. One thing led to another, and I made...a mess. A batch of white chocolate macadamia nut cookie batter to freeze for later. A batch of rhubarb pecan muffins for breakfasts. A batch of strawberry rhubarb sauce for my vanilla yogurt. (No mixer required.) Pittsburgh Steak Salads. So, mother's day was spent in the kitchen, cooking and cleaning. I love the cooking part and I had an awesome day, but I missed my laziness opportunity. Mother's don't get them often.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Laura, Nellie, and the Cinnamon Chicken episode
I've been rewatching all the Little House episodes with my 10-year-old daughter. We are on season nine. Anyone remember the episode in season six when Almanzo comes to town and Nellie offers to cook him dinner? She can't cook, so she enlists Laura to make Almanzo's favorite dish: cinnamon chicken. Laura has a crush on Almanzo, so she sabotages the meal by replacing the cinnamon with ground red cayenne pepper. Nellie and Almanzo take one bite of the dish and they go running for the water.
Fast-forward a couple of decades. We aren't on TV, but I am making chicken paprikash, the Hungarian chicken stew made with plenty of sweet paprika--or so I thought. I accidentally grabbed the--you guessed it--ground red cayenne pepper and added the prescribed 2 tablespoons to the simmering chicken. I guess my first clue should have been the coughing my family did as they fought the airborne pepper on their way to the dinner table. Three out of four of us managed to eat the meal with liberal glasses of milk and dollops of sour cream. I only realized my mistake halfway through dinner after my husband kept saying, "I didn't realize that paprika was so spicy."
Fast-forward a couple of decades. We aren't on TV, but I am making chicken paprikash, the Hungarian chicken stew made with plenty of sweet paprika--or so I thought. I accidentally grabbed the--you guessed it--ground red cayenne pepper and added the prescribed 2 tablespoons to the simmering chicken. I guess my first clue should have been the coughing my family did as they fought the airborne pepper on their way to the dinner table. Three out of four of us managed to eat the meal with liberal glasses of milk and dollops of sour cream. I only realized my mistake halfway through dinner after my husband kept saying, "I didn't realize that paprika was so spicy."
Disclosure
I wanted to say that while I was reading Animal Vegetable Miracle, I was simultaneously reading my new cookbook: Bobby Flay's Mesa Grill Cookbook. (I had the good fortune of eating at the Mesa Grill in Vegas for my 37th birthday.) This book is at cross purposes with the Kingsolver plan. Recipes include ingredients of a tropical nature such as mangoes, hot peppers, plantains, etc. Bobby includes ideas for seasonal menus which may or may not include some hard-to-get ingredients for the season. And I will undoubtedly make some of these dishes. I am not a holier-than-thou foodie, just one that is trying.
Animal Vegetable Miracle, Part II
I've finished the book, and while I am not going to go out and order my own flock of chickens who are known to lay eggs through the winter months, the book has influenced me to change some of my ways. I am never going to be a purist, but I do think I can work on ways to give my family and me a more intimate relationship with the food we eat and the area where we live.
1. I do want to join Slow Food organization. The money has kept me from doing it in the past, and will probably keep me from joining in any month surrounding the holidays, but the impetus is there, and I will work toward that goal.
2. I will become cognizant of where my grocery store produce hails, and make local choices, when I have the option.
3. I will visit the farmers' stand BEFORE I go grocery shopping. I know they get some food shipped to them, so I will make sure to ask which products are grown on their property. No excuses. This particular stand is one mile from my house.
4. I will give cheesemaking a try. I admit that this is mainly a curiosity, and I would check it out even if it weren't connected to a cause.
5. I will be a more conscious gardener. I'm not saying I'll be bigger or better, but I will put more thought into it and try to engage my kids more in the act of raising food.
6. I will plan more of our meals around seasonal food. I do this to some extent now, but I will be aware of how often I do this and when I veer. I do have a pretty good idea what foods come into season and when, so that is a start.
7. I will look into buying local eggs, meats, poultry, and flour. Not knowing what my choices are, I don't want to promise that I will always buy local, organic, free range, but I am on the lookout.
8. I will look for fair trade coffee. I am looking to cut down my coffee to 1 cup a day and to eliminate the diet soda (who wants all those chemicals) anyway. This is as good an excuse as any.
Some things won't happen. I don't anticipate giving up citrus, fish, or cheese from other countries. I do can and freeze some of my own foods, but I don't know that I'll step up production. These steps aren't mandates, but goals I have for myself. I think they fall within the realm of what is practical for me and my family at this time, yet uncomfortable enough to stretch us out of our comfort zone. Isn't growth-- of animals, plants, and the human spirit--what this is all about?
1. I do want to join Slow Food organization. The money has kept me from doing it in the past, and will probably keep me from joining in any month surrounding the holidays, but the impetus is there, and I will work toward that goal.
2. I will become cognizant of where my grocery store produce hails, and make local choices, when I have the option.
3. I will visit the farmers' stand BEFORE I go grocery shopping. I know they get some food shipped to them, so I will make sure to ask which products are grown on their property. No excuses. This particular stand is one mile from my house.
4. I will give cheesemaking a try. I admit that this is mainly a curiosity, and I would check it out even if it weren't connected to a cause.
5. I will be a more conscious gardener. I'm not saying I'll be bigger or better, but I will put more thought into it and try to engage my kids more in the act of raising food.
6. I will plan more of our meals around seasonal food. I do this to some extent now, but I will be aware of how often I do this and when I veer. I do have a pretty good idea what foods come into season and when, so that is a start.
7. I will look into buying local eggs, meats, poultry, and flour. Not knowing what my choices are, I don't want to promise that I will always buy local, organic, free range, but I am on the lookout.
8. I will look for fair trade coffee. I am looking to cut down my coffee to 1 cup a day and to eliminate the diet soda (who wants all those chemicals) anyway. This is as good an excuse as any.
Some things won't happen. I don't anticipate giving up citrus, fish, or cheese from other countries. I do can and freeze some of my own foods, but I don't know that I'll step up production. These steps aren't mandates, but goals I have for myself. I think they fall within the realm of what is practical for me and my family at this time, yet uncomfortable enough to stretch us out of our comfort zone. Isn't growth-- of animals, plants, and the human spirit--what this is all about?
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Animal Vegetable Miracle, Part I
I am reading the newest nonfiction book by Barbara Kingsolver (one of my favorite novelists) called Animal Vegetable Miracle. It is about the quest of her family to eat locally for one year. I highly recommend this book to anyone who eats. (I realize this includes everyone on this planet.) This subject is intense and may lead me to more than one blog entry, but I'll start here with a bit of my foodie background.
When I was young, my mother had a HUGE garden. She canned jellies and froze corn and green beans. We had a small orchard on our property that usually gave up enough fruit for pies. And we had the great zucchini harvest like anyone else with a garden. My mom liked gardening. And she was frugal. I always imagined that it was these two things combined with a heritage of gardeners that drove her to garden, more than a love of food. (My mother is one of those people who could be satisfied living off air, I think.)
Fast-forward to my first house and plot of land. It was small and in-town, so I carved out a garden with 6 4'x4' raised beds in which I planted by a method called square foot gardening. I did not garden because I loved the work. Tight hamstrings aren't conducive to bending over. And I'll take paint over dirt under my fingernails any day. I have, however, inherited some of my mother's frugality, but by my calculations and on the scale I was working the land, I am not too sure that I didn't spend more than I got back in the harvest. Unlike my mother, I do have a love of food--the more experimental--the better. My whole reason for gardening was to grow things that had yet come into vogue in the markets in my area. I was after the unusual. Fresh herbs (at the time, stores only sold dried herbs and fresh curly parsley), yellow tomatoes, kohlrabi, tomatillos, hot peppers (All colors and range of hotness), endive, Japanese Eggplant, arugula. If it was an exotic, I was growing it.
Slowly, the area grocery stores started catching up to my tastes. Even if the produce was on the pricey side--it spared my hamstrings. I continued to garden though. In our newer house with a bigger back yard, I still managed 3 small beds with tomatoes and peppers mostly. One year, I tried growing all purple vegetables just for the quirkiness of it. You'd be amazed how many varieties of vegetables come in purple besides eggplant. There are tomatoes, peppers (hot and sweet), beans, peas, cauliflower, sage, basil, and lettuce.
The way I gardened is the way I shopped. I sought out the strangest ingredients so I could lift the cover off my culinary creations with a big TA-DA. The best supermarkets were the ones who carried chutney, ginger, avocado, fresh herbs, frisee, an array of worldly cheeses --from sheep and goat's milk as well as cow's milk, blood oranges, mangos, escargot, lamb, crawfish, ground veal, turkey sausage in many flavors, proscuitto, quinoa, Meyer lemon infused oil. You get the picture. I still travel 35 minutes to shop at a grocery store that best fits my needs.
When I read books by Frances Mayes, in which she hailed the slow food movement, I felt I was doing my part: cooking daily, foods to be eaten with relish around a table. Not some prepackaged mix that you added a pound of your own ground beef. I may not have been Alice Waters, visiting the the farmers everyday to select the best of what was growing in the fields, but most of my meals came from the actual produce section, not some can or box. And I did cook recipes from magazines that boasted the current month's date. How's that for seasonal?
Then along comes Barbara Kingsolver, and she blows me out of the grocery store. She and the slow food movement expect more of me. Most generally their mandates are the following: buy local produce (to spur local economies and conserve fuel of transporting crops from distant lands). Buy seasonal produce. (Cucumbers don't grow here in the winter, so if I am going to be local, I have to be seasonal). Buy meat from animals which were humanely raised. Produce more of your own food, so you can place yourself directly in the food chain and have more reverence for your food and the land. (I especially like the part where she makes her own cheese!) I am still reading this book, so I will have to see what kind of changes will come into to my cooking and eating. But the first, step--questioning the way I do things--has already begun.
When I was young, my mother had a HUGE garden. She canned jellies and froze corn and green beans. We had a small orchard on our property that usually gave up enough fruit for pies. And we had the great zucchini harvest like anyone else with a garden. My mom liked gardening. And she was frugal. I always imagined that it was these two things combined with a heritage of gardeners that drove her to garden, more than a love of food. (My mother is one of those people who could be satisfied living off air, I think.)
Fast-forward to my first house and plot of land. It was small and in-town, so I carved out a garden with 6 4'x4' raised beds in which I planted by a method called square foot gardening. I did not garden because I loved the work. Tight hamstrings aren't conducive to bending over. And I'll take paint over dirt under my fingernails any day. I have, however, inherited some of my mother's frugality, but by my calculations and on the scale I was working the land, I am not too sure that I didn't spend more than I got back in the harvest. Unlike my mother, I do have a love of food--the more experimental--the better. My whole reason for gardening was to grow things that had yet come into vogue in the markets in my area. I was after the unusual. Fresh herbs (at the time, stores only sold dried herbs and fresh curly parsley), yellow tomatoes, kohlrabi, tomatillos, hot peppers (All colors and range of hotness), endive, Japanese Eggplant, arugula. If it was an exotic, I was growing it.
Slowly, the area grocery stores started catching up to my tastes. Even if the produce was on the pricey side--it spared my hamstrings. I continued to garden though. In our newer house with a bigger back yard, I still managed 3 small beds with tomatoes and peppers mostly. One year, I tried growing all purple vegetables just for the quirkiness of it. You'd be amazed how many varieties of vegetables come in purple besides eggplant. There are tomatoes, peppers (hot and sweet), beans, peas, cauliflower, sage, basil, and lettuce.
The way I gardened is the way I shopped. I sought out the strangest ingredients so I could lift the cover off my culinary creations with a big TA-DA. The best supermarkets were the ones who carried chutney, ginger, avocado, fresh herbs, frisee, an array of worldly cheeses --from sheep and goat's milk as well as cow's milk, blood oranges, mangos, escargot, lamb, crawfish, ground veal, turkey sausage in many flavors, proscuitto, quinoa, Meyer lemon infused oil. You get the picture. I still travel 35 minutes to shop at a grocery store that best fits my needs.
When I read books by Frances Mayes, in which she hailed the slow food movement, I felt I was doing my part: cooking daily, foods to be eaten with relish around a table. Not some prepackaged mix that you added a pound of your own ground beef. I may not have been Alice Waters, visiting the the farmers everyday to select the best of what was growing in the fields, but most of my meals came from the actual produce section, not some can or box. And I did cook recipes from magazines that boasted the current month's date. How's that for seasonal?
Then along comes Barbara Kingsolver, and she blows me out of the grocery store. She and the slow food movement expect more of me. Most generally their mandates are the following: buy local produce (to spur local economies and conserve fuel of transporting crops from distant lands). Buy seasonal produce. (Cucumbers don't grow here in the winter, so if I am going to be local, I have to be seasonal). Buy meat from animals which were humanely raised. Produce more of your own food, so you can place yourself directly in the food chain and have more reverence for your food and the land. (I especially like the part where she makes her own cheese!) I am still reading this book, so I will have to see what kind of changes will come into to my cooking and eating. But the first, step--questioning the way I do things--has already begun.
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