Sunday Breakfast With a Side of Ethics

Sunday is the one day of the week we're able to decide whether to get out of the house early or stay home in our jammies with the newspaper and pot after pot of tea. It’s that second option I like best on wintery days. I want to laze away the morning in slow motion. Sometimes we watch Sunday Morning with Charles Osgood, other times I go back to bed with the newspaper and stay there until I’ve read the entire thing.

Although Sunday breakfast should be special, it often isn’t any different than my quick workday bite just before I dash out the door. Actually cooking and lingering is part of what made yesterday’s breakfast so especially amazing.

We’ve been buying pastured eggs from a friend whose hens live a grand life. They get good food and stretch their wings in sunshine, scratching and pecking on green grass. Their eggs have bright orange yolks that stand tall and round in the pan and a taste that’s richer than anything produced by hens kept in small, artificially lit cages.

In addition to those delicious eggs we had locally raised, nitrite-free bacon and fresh, homemade (not by me) bread. The bread was light and hearty, full of whole grains and perfectly toasted. I topped my slice with a good dollop of Satsuma Mandarin Marmalade from this winter’s backyard harvest. It doesn’t get any more local than twenty feet from your own door.

The bacon we ate yesterday was thoughtfully and ethically raised. Knowing this, and that it was humanely slaughtered, makes me feel a sense of honor for the animal I don’t get with a package from the store. It wasn’t as salty as commercial bacon, was more thickly cut, and had a mellower flavor. It crisped exactly the way we both like.

I’m done buying eggs and bacon at the grocery store. For the small amount of bacon we actually eat (I could honestly have it every day if my cholesterol level would allow), I don’t mind paying a little more for this kind of quality. And isn’t that what Sunday morning should be about? Quality, ethics, honor, delicious food. My kind of day.

And So It Begins...

Canning season has officially begun.












Apricot Jam.

Bzzzzz...

It’s been a hive of activity here at Wild Plum Cottage during the past few weeks. We’ve been painting, watching the garden grow (although the only thing I’ve harvested so far is six green beans – yeah, six), and working on the front yard.

We realized, after three back-breaking weekends, that there’s no way we can re-landscape the front yard by ourselves. So we hired someone to do it for us. What luxury. We’ve had a crew of three guys tearing out lawns, shrubbery, and small trees for two days. Tomorrow they’ll start working on terracing and laying bricks. After that they’ll lay out the drip system. Then we’ll pay them and do the planting ourselves. It’s going to be beautiful. There’ll be before, during, and after pictures when we’re done.

In the midst of all this busy-ness I’ve been canning like a fiend. The chocolate cherry wine sauce turned out amazingly delicious, but I’m not sure it’s safe to can. I put three jars through the water bath, admired them for about a day, got the willies, popped the seals, and refrigerated them. Botulism is a bad thing, and I don’t know enough about acidity to trust my own made-up canning recipe. But if I find out it’s a canning-safe recipe I’ll be slamming it into jars as fast as possible, because, honestly, it’s the best damn thing I’ve ever cooked. (And you, Miss Amber, will be first on my list of recipients.)

Mmmmm......

Chocolate Cherry Wine Sauce. More later.

Ahhh, A Holiday

This is what we’ve been busy with for the past few weeks:

• Painting the downstairs ceilings – a huge project.
• Choosing a color for the kitchen walls.
• Deep cleaning one room at a time.
• Picking almost 12 pounds of cherry-sized plums.

Making and canning the following crazy delicious things:

• Cherries in Wine
• Brandied Cherries
• Plum Jam (51 jars!)
• Blackberry Jam
•  Trying to figure out if a reduction of zinfandel, cherries, cocoa powder and a few other ingredients is safe for canning, because, omigod, if it is, everyone on my Christmas list is going to looove me.

• Harvesting basil, making and freezing pesto.
• Harvesting lavender and hanging it to dry.
• Oh, and working full time.

Today we’re hanging out at home, resting, catching our breath, letting life slow down for a while. And remembering why I love living in this amazing, frustrating, busy, beautiful country of ours.

 

Happy Fourth!

A Summer Morning

My best friend asked me to teach her how to make jam. We started with an easy recipe, strawberry jam - only a few ingredients and minimal fruit preparation required. On Tuesday morning I packed up all my canning equipment and drove to her house in the country where she’s surrounded by apple trees and grapevines and fresh air and we talked and canned and talked some more. It was wonderful.

The beginning.

The end.

The bonus - spending time with this sweet girl.

Slainte (Cheers)

I’m in a coffee shop right now, taking a break in my work day, enjoying the gift of late winter sunshine. We’ve had an awful lot of Irish weather this year – rain, rain, more rain. Then it rained again. Today people are in flip-flops and tee-shirts, not a jacket or umbrella in sight. Not a bad way to celebrate St. Paddy’s Day. I might have an Irish coffee later, most likely not (it’s bound to give me hot flashes).

Dinner is cooking in the crockpot – corned beef – with cabbage, potatoes, and carrots to be cooked when I get home. It’s a once or twice a year meal, not really traditionally Irish, but close enough. The cabbage and potatoes are traditional of course, but the corned beef doesn’t belong to us. (It has more flavor than the average Irish palate could imagine. And I’m sure someone will find this post and pounce all over me for saying that, but it’s true; I grew up on traditional Irish cooking and it’s booorrring.)

Honestly, the best part of Irish food is the bread and dairy foods. There’s nothing like a good thick slice of Irish bread slathered with butter. I didn’t make soda bread for the holiday, but might get to it this week sometime. Now that I’ve given it a bit of thought I may have to. Or, I might just make some custard. I cheat, of course. I haven’t a clue how to make actual custard, and don’t really care to learn, especially when I like the taste of Bird’s Custard so much.

So raise a glass, a fork or a spoon, and have a happy St. Paddy’s Day.
Slainte.

Winter Nest

The rain has been pouring down here for a good portion of the last couple weeks. This year, for the first time in quite a while, I’ve been enjoying it tremendously. It’s good weather for nesting. We’ve done a bit of re-arranging the furniture, making a cozy office/studio space for me so my creative pursuits aren’t spread all over the house, but are instead corralled to one room. Makes the rest of the house feel more open and organized.
Of course, now that I have lots of space to be crafty, I’m finding I’d rather be in the kitchen. It’s citrus time and I’ve had an abundance of oranges and Meyer lemons, too many to eat or make lemonade (besides, it’s the wrong season for ice cold lemonade, brrr), so I’ve made orange-lemon marmalade and lemon bars. Let me tell you, they’re both so easy I don’t know why I haven’t made more before now.
Marmalade is nothing more than slices of citrus fruit, sugar, and water. It takes a while to cook to the gelling point, but oh, is it worth it. And lemon bars! I had no idea how easy these are to make. I’m not a baker by any means and if I can turn out a pan of something this yummy, well, anyone can. Really. You can find the recipe here.

It's Raining, It's Pouring

(Why we need rain.)

 It’s supposed to be storming right now, heavy rain and gusty winds. The weather forecasters have been advising that we’re going to get clobbered this week. We need it. We haven't had a normal amount of rainfall in several years, but it looks like we might get it all at once. It’s a day to stay home.

Right now the sun is breaking through, the sky is dark and clouds speed by, heavy with the next round of rainstorm. They’re beautiful when they’re lit by scattered sunlight.

Early this morning I dashed out to get grocery shopping done before the worst of the rain hit. I hate trying to unload grocery bags in the rain. Later I’ll roast a chicken - there’s nothing like filling the house with good, warm cooking smells on a rainy day - and finish the marmalade I started last night. That’s what today is all about - staying cozy and capturing orange sunshine.

What makes you feel cozy in the middle of winter?

Update - Wednesday night: The rain arrived, along with wind, thunder, lightning, and now, hail. We're into the fourth storm in four days with more to come. The sky has opened ferociously.

To Warm the Cockles of Your Heart

Last night’s dinner was pure California winter comfort food, a big bowl of Cioppino to drive away the damp chill. I try to make it at least once when crab is in season, mostly because it’s a shame to not take advantage of the ocean’s bounty.

The first time I ever had cioppino, in fact, the first I’d ever heard of it, was in my early twenties. My first clue it was a messy dish was the bib the waiter tied around my neck before he set my meal in front of me. I haven’t eaten cioppino in public since. It’s a meal to be shared at home with people who won’t mind that you’ve got sauce on your hands and who expect you to mop up the last few bites with a hunk of sourdough bread.

This is my tried and true recipe. It’s open to adjustment and is always a little different depending on how spicy I want it to be, whether I use tomatoes with herbs already added, and what seafood looks good at the store.

Cioppino Sauce

2 – 4 shallots, finely chopped

2 – 4 garlic cloves, minced

Red wine (1 cup)

2 cans crushed tomatoes

1 bottle clam juice

Fresh parsley, finely chopped (1/2 bunch)

Thyme, Oregano, Red pepper flakes (to taste)

Sauté shallots and garlic in olive oil. Add red wine & reduce. Add crushed tomatoes, clam juice, parsley, thyme, oregano,  red pepper fllakes, and simmer. (I simmered mine for almost two hours, partially covered.) Add seafood.

I used Dungeness crab, scallops, shrimp, mussels, and clams, adding them the last 10 minutes of cooking.

Light candles, pour good red wine, and dig in.

Making the Bitter Sweet

Have you ever eaten a fresh cranberry? Let me tell you, you haven’t missed out on anything. There’s nothing to recommend it. You wouldn’t want to grab a handful to nibble while watching a movie. They’re not a tasty treat.

But add a little sugar, some chopped orange and walnuts, raisins, and port, cook it for awhile and magic happens. Put it in jars and you’ve got deliciousness to last all year. Today I canned 24 four ounce jars of Cranberry Port Conserve. I can’t say it’s my best effort, but it’s pretty good.

Making jams or conserves is a meditation for me. I breathe and pay attention to details, one step at a time, everything in its own time. No hurry, no wishing it might be different. It just is.

Most often jam is made from sweet fruit; it’s not a stretch to make it edible. A cranberry requires something more, a willingness to see what it might become with a little imagination.

Cranberry Port Conserve

4 cups fresh or frozen cranberries

2 cups granulated sugar

¾ cup port

½ cup finely chopped, peeled orange

1/3 cup raisins

¼ cup chopped walnuts

Combine cranberries, sugar, and port – bring to a full boil over high heat and cook, uncovered, until berries pop.

Add orange and raisins. Return to a boil, reduce heat and boil gently, uncovered, until mixture forms a light gel, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat and stir in nuts.

Process in a hot water bath for 5 minutes.

Recipe from The Complete Book of Year-Round Small-Batch Preserving by Ellie Topp and Margaret Howard.