The other day I brought home beets, leeks, chard, basil, and parsley from the garden. I’m kind of stuck on roasting beets, but M doesn’t have quite the same passion for them. Mixing it up a bit for M’s sake, I decided to make a beet and greens risotto. For those of you who may be a little leary of beets, this is the perfect baby step. It has a deep and subtle beet flavor, tempered by the leeks and cheese, with the added bonus that it’s gorgeous to look at.
…and it’s certainly what I’ve got. Several months ago I heard “How Will You Meet Your End” by A.A. Bondy on NPR’s All Songs Considered and fell in love. After listening to it over and over again, I broke down about two weeks ago and bought the album, which was completely worth my $12.
Then last night, I saw Wilco at White River Park in Indianapolis and the opening act was Bon Iver. All I knew of these guys before they got on stage were the Jagjaguwar ads in my bimonthly issues of Bust magazine. I was a little blown away by their performance and by the time they got to “Skinny Love,” I was the one in love. Again.
I tend to get rabid about new songs that I’m hooked on–and I think I’ve subjected everyone to enough Karen Dalton for the time being– so I’ve been scouring the internet and was pleasantly surprised to see that both Bon Iver and A.A. Bondy are playing in Bloomington next Tuesday at The John Waldron Art Center for $8. Really? Why am I NOT living in Bloomington anymore, oh beloved mini mecca of ethnic food, farmer’s markets, and indie music? Seriously. Someone tell me.
It’s the height of the summer and I’ve not shared any seasonal tasties. I hang my head in shame.
Lately my evenings have been pretty full and though it’s a bit of a sin, I haven’t done much cooking or gardening with DAS in mind (save for a plum kuchen and a lovely bowl of colcannon). In fact, I haven’t done much lately that isn’t related to work, the co-op, my creative accountability project, or trying to keep my house in some kind of working order. I’ve even handed cooking duties over to M for the past week! I promise to post some more goodies soon. Afterall, the tomatoes are finally ripening, so you know I have to do them justice.
To prove that I haven’t been a total bum, here’s a picture of a new knitting project that I’ve been working on. It’s a sweater on commission for my friend, J. After 3 months without a knitting project, this li’l sweater is a welcome change. The yarn is sproingy and fun to work with and the colors make me happy. It’s also a breeze to knit thus far, thanks to the lovely lady who operates Flint Knits and to the legendary Elizabeth Zimmerman, who wrote the original pattern. Maybe someday I’ll be an “independent” knitter like her. Sigh.
Recently my lovely gal pals and I have joined in a creative pact. Each Friday we submit a project, be it an essay or a piece of visual art, by email to eachother. We take turns creating a theme for the week to guide our projects. While we haven’t been doing it for very long, I’m sort of in love with it. Some of my creative efforts may even make it on here at some point.
I enjoy being responsible to someone each week to do something creative and it’s gotten me in the mood to branch out in my weekly efforts. That’s why I’ve decided to commit to spending at least 30 minutes a week to spinning yarn. I keep drooling over all the handspun goods on Ravelry and my mountains of fiber are beginning to mock me. It’s time that I do something.
So here it is. The spin in Delve and Spin.
Lately I’ve had preserving on the brain. On Sunday I added 5 pints of black raspberries, 2 quarts of sour cherries, and 2 quarts of blueberries to my stash of already frozen cherries, blueberries, and strawberries. Let me begin by saying that while I am by no means a homesteader, I’ve picked up a few handy hints about preserving in my limited experience.
I’m a big fan of freezing. It’s fast, easy, and I think it preserves fruit’s true and fruity nature better than canning or preserves. Besides, who doesn’t love to reach into the freezer in the middle of February and pull out a few raspberries to put in pancakes or yogurt parfaits? Read the rest of this entry
I’m not the only one who cooks around here. As I’ve bragged before, M is nothing short of a breakfast genius, churning out wholegrain pancakes and elaborate omelets nearly everyday. I’m terribly well fed, which is why I wanted to take a minute to showcase what I had the good fortune of eating today.
He made a beautiful self-serve crepe buffet. Nutella, raspberries, peaches, sour cherries cooked down with brandy and vanilla, cinnamon, and scrambled eggs with fresh mozzarella. I mixed up a raspberry nutella combo and another with peaches, cherries and cinnamon.
Have I mentioned how much I love this man?
Yes, it’s another tart. I can’t help it. I have a baking illness.
It’s been raining fruit in the gardens the past week and I’ve been furiously pitting and freezing cherries (both sour and sweet), washing blueberries, and hunting for wild black raspberries. With all this fruit I feel obligated to do these little jewels justice. I’ve been stuffing berries and cherries into cereal, crisps, pies, plunging them into yogurt, even feeding them to the dog.
My favorite way to eat blueberries is to have them fresh, and preferably right off the bush. I like to keep the berry’s subtle, tart, and slightly floral nature intact. I love blueberry pancakes and muffins as much as the next person, but the berry’s taste and texture changes so dramatically when cooked. In order to truly do these fresh berries justice, I decided to keep them fresh and pair them with a cornmeal crust and ricotta cheese filling spiced with nutmeg and a bit of last summer’s honey. Read the rest of this entry
My birthday was screwy this year. M was in Maine for a conference and my family came several days beforehand to celebrate early. After a day of vintage shopping at Nancy’s Downtown Mall (the happiest place in Terre Haute), we went to the only place in town that my whole family can agree on, Outback Steakhouse. Not exactly my idea of an ideal birthday dinner, but I can hardly bite the hand that feeds me. Especially when it’s a birthday meal.
The next day, when everyone was bellyaching from too much Bloomin’ Onion, I turned to the big bowl of garden-fresh strawberries that I’d harvested the day before. The best thing about having a birthday in Indiana during the first part of June is that the strawberries are almost always at their peak, which makes for some pretty amazing birthday treats. This year, I opted for a strawberry chocolate tart, courtesy of the The Silver Palate ladies, to showcase the berries’ deep color and natural sweetness. Take that Outback. Read the rest of this entry
I admit it. I bought organic Miracle Grow Garden Soil. Most of the time, I strive to be Sally Sustainability, and Miracle Grow definitely does not factor into this, but last week when my grama and I took a trip to Lowe’s, I finally relented. This never would have happened if I hadn’t been so neglectful of our garden to begin with. Let me explain.
Since watching The Wizard of Oz as a child, I’ve had a fascination with scarlet poppies. I’d be happy to have an entire lawn full of them and pretend that I live in France, but the Terre Haute cops might try to bust me for running an opium ring. Used to southern Indiana’s clay soil, I was delighted by our home’s surprisingly sandy soil because I knew poppies would grow well (and as I soon found out, that’s about it). So in April ’07, M and I dug up sod in strips about 2 feet wide and 4 feet long on either side of the sidewalk in front of our house. We planted a mix of hungarian breadseed and oriental scarlet poppies. For weeks, I eagerly awaited their arrival.
These guys were late bloomers, waiting to explode into brilliant, papery blossoms until we got back from our Scotland/Wales/France/Ireland trip in late June. They were everything I wanted them to be. Delicate, vibrant, plentiful, and most of all, a gorgeous shade of scarlet. Knowing that many poppies like to self-sow, I diligently shook the seeds from dried pods over the bed and also snipped some for saving. When this past March came, M spread more seed on the beds to ensure they would come back.
April came and nothing sprouted. May, still nothing. June, a slight stir and then half a dozen stragglers emerged. A disappointing display, but I can’t blame the poppies for their poor survival rate. I neglected to put mulch on the beds after pulling out the spent plants in the late summer, leaving the beds bare. After months of rain and snow wearing away the sand, a good portion of the top soil washed away, taking the poppy seeds and some fertility with it.
I’m schooled in sustainable agriculture. I know better. I can still hear my permaculture instructor sing-songing, “Bare soil is damaged soil.” After beating myself up for a few months for this egregious error, I took a deep breath, put on my garden sandals, grabbed a jar of zinnia seed and my bag of Miracle Grow and set to work. Read the rest of this entry
The past several weeks have brought workshop/retreat obligations, family visits, floods, a vacation in Seattle and a wedding at the Indiana dunes. I haven’t had much time for cooking up tasty things, let alone writing about them. At least our garden is starting to look halfway decent and the strawberries and rhubarb have been lovely (well, until the rains came).
Our trip to Seattle and the Olympic Peninsula brought much needed rest and playtime and piles and piles of food and drink. M and I spent most of our time in the city touring coffee shops and farmers markets–my idea of an absolutely perfect vacation. Of course, quality time with friends sweetened the deal and this pertty little cornmeal gallette. I loaded up on berries and rhubarb from Pike’s Place and sweetened them with a bit of lemon zest and brown sugar and squeezed in some lemon juice for good measure. Unfortunately, I don’t have a recipe to share since I made this one on the fly and didn’t write anything down. Let it hold you over until I post last week’s strawberry chocolate tart. I’ll be honest, it was a little bit of a revelation.