South47

It's smattering rain outside right now, but this afternoon was beautiful. For this week's Thursday park outing we went to the South 47 Farm. Raspberries and Marionberries are looking the best right now, so I picked a small bucket. Most of my entertainment came from watching kids of various ages cram berries into their mouths. I cannot say that I was above it either.....while picking the raspberries it was especially difficult to stop nibbling on them.

Maya approves

They also had a great animal petting area. A few of the usual pygmy goats were lazing about, but they had two baby alpacas. I wanted to stuff one in my car and take it home immediately. That playful mop of unruly hair that hangs into their eyes! Those soft fuzzy lips that investigate your fingers for food! Grown up alpacas are gentle and exotic looking, but those babies were almost too much.


I had a mix of berries, so made some Bumbleberry freezer jam. It's a bit sweeter than the raspberry and would be great on pancakes or waffles.

I Have Seen The Future

I have seen the future.....and I need to do my hair.

Growing up, I read lots of science fiction and comic books. The Future was right around the next bend. The Future always involved planetary travel and mysterious food bots that could whip up any delicacy you wanted out of loose atoms.

In the real world, I've lived through the transition of crank-and-wind to power windows on my car, Internet that started with a distinctive wheeeeeee-boing-ke-boing-boing tone and ended eventually with effortless connection, and the invention of online banking. And yes, there is also my beloved iphone. If I really stop and think about it I end up feeling old because of the sheer amount of technological sophistication that I have come to accept as completely normal. (sorry, mom and dad, because by extension I am calling you super-old. You are not that! You are Super-Experienced!)

One item in all of the sci fi books was the video phone. And tonight I experienced that for the first time in my own non-fiction world. Yeah, yeah, I've had a webcam before but I've never had a casual long distance phone conversation that just happened to include a video feed. I must give the credit for this to my parents. They have been using skype and a webcam to talk to my sister for a while now, and they finally dragged me out of the dark ages and into The Now.

It was all very different. Usually when I'm on the phone I'm walking around the house (see, I changed from wired to cordless phones within my lifetime too!) doing stuff. Tonight, I had to think about it. I had the phone call with mom and dad. Before that, I had to prep my dinner (a chicken), start the grill, get the temperature regulated, put the chicken on, and hope that it would just cook away while I was talking. On a regular phone call I would have multi-tasked and not thought about it at all. And as I was sitting down and the computer, I actually thought "is my visible house behind the camera clean enough? Do I look like a crazy person? Should I brush my hair?" These are things that never occur to me on the phone.

And then suddenly dad was talking me through it and there they were. Both crammed into the view-line of a laptop webcam. They were in my old bedroom, actually, and turned the laptop around so that I could see where they were.

I was in the future. We talked for a good half hour with minimal lag. Mom asked what craft I was working on, and I held it up in front of the camera for her to see. It was mind blowing.

Hello, future. I am finally here, thanks to my age-defying parents.

maybe you shouldn't wake me with a kiss

The standard Charlie-working-late instructions are as follows:

Get home whenever you get home, but if I'm asleep then at least kiss me.


Tonight my darling, perhaps I should loosen those rules. Fresh pesto + tomato mixture from last night = culinary bliss. But perhaps you should not kiss me.....not just yet. Let's wait till the morning.

toxic realization

I am a garlic fan. Nay, a garlic fanatic. When I make a recipe I automatically double and sometimes triple the amount called for. I can't get enough of the stuff.

But right now, after eating a bowl of tomatoes and basil and balsamic vinegar and olive oil and some garlic, I am having my doubts. Perhaps 12 cloves of garlic in the bowl were too many. My mouth kind of feels like it is on fire.

Charlie is due home from soccer in about an hour. There are only two options available:

1. Force him to eat a few spoonfulls of the tomato mixture on some crackers, then carry on as if nothing has happened.

2. Wear a surgical mask and speak to him at a minimum distance of 10 feet.

Wow. I think I have hit my garlic limit. Who knew!

10.20pm result:
He happily scooped up tomatoes with crackers, remarking that there sure was a lot of garlic in there. I kissed him to celebrate.

With Apologies to Mlle. Ferber

Over the years my jam and jelly making has become more intricate. There are some standard recipes, oft used and annotated, but there was also the time that I started making my own pectin. And I let fruit and sugar macerate for 24 hours before bringing to a boil. And there were the combinations, not just strawberry but strawberry-mint-black-pepper. I blame it all on Christine Ferber. Her book of jam recipes is so very european and elegant. Some of the recipes start with crazy things like "pick the fruit before the dew dries in order to preserve the full perfume."

Frankly it's a bit crazy. But so good! After dumping in powdered pectin for years...the fine control you can get with a pale green jelly, that homemade pectin from slightly unripe apples, it give a clear wiggle to the jam. The jelly doesn't thicken, it just pulls itself together. Like a yoga class where you are doing a simple pose and the instructor comes over and puts a hand on your spine and suddenly you shift just so and your body comes into alignment.

Anyway. Mlle. Ferber, I am sorry. Because I just discovered freezer jam. Raspberries are in season around here and they are always touted as awesome freezer jam candidates. I decided to try it. Let's see the comparison:

Regular jam:
- get great fruit, wash and drain and macerate with sugar for 24 hours.
- put a gigantic pot on the stove, fill with water. Bring to a boil, which can take upwards of 45 minutes. Add jam jars and simmer them to sterilize.
- bring the fruit/sugar to a boil, simmer, and add pectin.
- now is where you want to make sure you are not wearing shorts and a bikini top.
- boil that jam until it reaches 221 degrees. Boil boil boil, stir, boil, stir, boil.
- take out hot jam jars with tongs, two at a time. Fill with boiling jam. Cap and put back in enormous pot of hot water.
- when all jam jars are full, let boil for 10 minutes.
- remove with tongs, put on a cooling rack, listen to make sure that the lids Ping! and tell you that they are sealed.

Freezer jam:
- get great fruit, wash and drain and put in bowl. Smush up with spoon.
- add 1.5c sugar, one package of souped-up "freezer jam pectin" and a generous squirt of lemon juice.
- are you naked? Fine! Wearing a bikini top and shorts? No problem!
- spoon into clean containers.
- final options: put in fridge (2 month storage), freezer (1 year storage), or mouth (instantaneous satisfaction)

fresh raspberries, picked today from Kathy's yard. Sun kissed, though the dew had dried before picking

add pectin and sugar

one batch regular, one batch seedless for a friend with a delicate digestive system

Yes, the freezer jam is a blunt instrument of preservation. But it really lets the tart raspberries shine in all their hot pink glory. I'll still make the majority of my jam the traditional way but I am definitely sold on the freezer method as well.

the trick to seedless jam? A rocking food mill

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The "5 best kitchen items" comments have been marvelous! I want to add brewing equipment, a chapati rolling pin, more wine, a spice cabinet, and a dog to my kitchen. Keep the ideas coming!

kitchen

There is one new thing in my kitchen that makes me smile: a gurgle pot pitcher. Fish shaped items are always pleasing, and since we drink a lot of iced tea one that makes a coy bubbling sound when poured only adds to the lovely experience. Click here to hear the gurgle.

Now the challenge. I will list five items that are beloved in my kitchen, various things that I consider essential to my day to day cooking endeavors. Are you up to the challenge? Can you leave your five beloved items in the comments? Do you dare? Have I goaded you into it yet? Here they are in no particular order:

1. Frozen pesto. Charlie makes delicious pesto and there is always a ton of it. I freeze the extra bits and defrost them gently on the counter. Wonderful on crackers, of course pasta, or as a spread on sandwiches. Also helpful when a friend who could really use a pot of soup requests "tomato basil" from your list of what you could cook for them.

yes, I love my labeler but sometimes containers get re-used and I'm too
lazy to peel the old label off

2. Hand-held immersion blender. I can't say that I use it every single day, but that would be close to the truth. You have not lived until you cook a recipe that needs 20 cloves of garlic minced and you look at that chopper and suddenly little hearts start appearing above it and it turns your hard work into one simple step. Or salsa needs three minced super hot peppers, and you don't have to wear rubber gloves to get the job done. Or you make tomato soup for a friend and it needs to be pureed and you don't have to transfer boiling cup-fulls to a blender.

3. Timer with thermometer. This thing cost me all of $12 at Target several years ago. I use it for steaks, jam, bread, boiling oil, and to see if the thanksgiving turkey is done. It has a temperature function where you set the degree and it beeps when it gets there. The probe and cord are heat proof to something crazy (I've had it on a 550 degree grill when cooking steak and it works perfectly).


4. Homemade stock. Yes, you can buy stock in many forms at the grocery store. But if you're using carrots and onions and peppers and tomatoes and parmesan cheese and roasted garlic when you cook anyway, why not save the bits in the freezer? I could devote an entire entry to stock creation, but I'll keep it simple and say that it is quite easy to make and the taste difference will astonish you. Except for beef broth...I could devote another entry to that and how much of a pain in the fundament it is to make.

5. Butter Bell. I make a lot of bread, ergo: I eat a lot of toast. My biggest vice is a piece of hot buttered toast. I would say that it is a sin when butter is cold and rips holes in a perfect slice. The solution? A simple bit of physics involving water and an airtight dome of butter. Kept at room temperature, the butter magically stays just spread-ably soft and easy to use, without spoiling.



Those are my five. You know what? I triple-dog-dare you. Go ahead and click on that "comments" button and tell me your five. Aren't familiar with commenting? Just check the box marked "anonymous" and tell me who you are in the comment. You don't have to be an internet whiz to comment. Mom Mom, I know for one that you're a top hand with one of those microwave egg-cooker things. Dad, you produce a cooking show for pete's sake. And mom, you pioneered dilly bread. Come to think of it, perhaps dilly bread should be in my top five kitchen items.

Ranger Me

If you know me, you have heard me say something at least once over the past few months:

"Today, I'm going to take apart that damn weed-whacker and get it working."

I said that, oh, every day for about two months. Frankly it's been getting a little ridiculous so today, today, yes, I took apart that damn weed-whacker and I got it working.

really!

I continued my summer project of maintaining the Brownian National Park, otherwise known as Our Yard. Today's focus was the driveway. There are lots of lovely trees including some lacey japanese maples that are so gorgeous when the light filters in. And there are monstrous ferns blousing out from all sides and draping onto the driveway itself. Then there are the brambles. And the invasive ivy. And the rhododendrons that are on a mission to take over the face of the earth. Today I trimmed back the ground-ivy, ripped down the tree-climbing ivy, pruned the rhodie, and taught the brambles Who Is Boss.


I met several neighbors on their afternoon walks. They tactfully didn't mention the filthy bandana covering my crazy hair or the long scratches up both legs. I tried to stay downwind so that my dreadful perfume of sunscreen and heavy duty bug spray wouldn't sicken anyone. Unfortunately I think I may have gotten off on the wrong foot with one elderly gentleman who sauntered by as I was trying to shake sharp little pine needles out of my tank top. I am sure that someone out there could do this in a sexy manner, but I just couldn't manage to make it attractive while wearing work gloves and flapping around vigorously. Plus the damn things were sticking to all of the sunscreen and bug spray. I managed to make some intelligent small talk and teach him that the green devils invading his yard were, indeed, lowly buttercups, but overall he probably thinks me mad.

the main street, also quite park-like

Thank goodness he didn't come by a few hours earlier, when I was holding the newly-started weed-whacker and yelling at it, "you're my bitch now, you goddamned thing. I own you!"

Cosa Nostra Woodinville

So my friend Elisa asked for help demolishing select parts of her deck. She needed a crowbar and some muscle and some enthusiasm for bashing things apart.

"Sure!" I replied "but my thumbs are kind of messed up so I don't know if I'll be much help. But I can bring the crowbar and a sledgehammer."

"What, did the mob get to your or something?" was her reply.

I laughed out loud. Yeah I guess there is that whole mob and putting you to the thumbscrews. And then I started to think about it. What hurts the most on me? My thumbs and my knees.

Holy crap, I am being haunted by the mob.

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The real reason? I have a bizarre deformity in my femurs that means my kneecaps float more than they should. This leads to strange pains when kneeling, and sometimes I pop more than is usual while running. My thumbs? Well, after a few weeks of good weather and incredibly vigorous weeding cutting pruning pulling sawing clearing yanking twisting and mowing my hands are pretty much shot.


However, I rather like the devil-may-care impression of the mob. Yeah, I didn't give up my secrets under duress. Yeah, yeah. You just try me.

duck and cover

It's 11.55pm, and obviously our neighbors have spent their entire stimulus checks on explosives.


Here's to hoping that they run out of cherry bombs before 2 am!

treats for all

best landscaping plant ever.

So the jam I made today came out well. I knew that it was strawberry-jam-making season. There were a few hints:
1. Bellevue strawberry festival (which I unfortunately missed this year)
2. Super hot weather
3. Driveway landscaping producing awesome berries
4. Detailed notes in jam-making cookbook are always within about a 2-week range

my much-annotated recipe

I succumbed. At the grocery store there were flats of local berries. You know, the kind where each berry is garnet red and still has an inch or so of stem sprouting out from the leaves. You can smell them about 5 feet away like red honey. I got a flat today and set to work. It was not as hot today as it has been but still was lovely and the air felt great on bare skin (see: bikini accident). I made two batches of my popular strawberry and lime jam. This year I got my beloved Weck tulip jars to function properly.


I love those Weck jars. So much that I never want to use them because then I will not have them anymore. Ridiculous! Today I forced myself to use four of them and will have to give them away because otherwise I'm just going to set them on windowsills and admire the red jam within and never want to open them. For now I will allow myself to hoard the rest of the empty jars.

the metal clips come off after the jars have cooled

At any rate, five pounds of berries were reduced to a stack of tasty sweet jars. You can't exactly survive on fresh jam alone, so I also made some tabouleh. Then at dusk I took out leftovers for the chickens. They dined on parsley and mint stems, a few heels of bread, and a mealy apple. Happy chickens....now lay me some eggs!

tabouleh for me

treats for the girls

Breaking News from the Department of Dumb

Tip:

Don't make jam while wearing shorts and a bikini top.




ouch.