A Chicken in Every Yard

We think we're so clever, discovering that chickens keep well in backyards. And that we're somehow side-stepping the government. Hah!

Spice Dyed Easter Eggs

Sunday morning I got up early to dye Easter Eggs using spices, herbs, teas, vegetables, and assorted juices. I've always been hesitant to use commercial egg dyes since getting sick after eating an Easter Egg when I was a kid, therefore I was delighted to learn actual food could be used to color eggs. The results were mixed, with some dyes barely tinting the eggs and others giving a soft color. The basic recipe uses one cup of hot water in which to dissolve the spices and a tablespoon of vinegar. The eggs soaked for 60-90 minutes. I used one teaspoon of ground spice per cup - not quite enough, but a good start. Next time I'll use more spice. A light rub with olive oil after they dried gave the eggs a nice sheen.

Here's the list and results:

Fresh spinach (a good handful boiled for a long while) - not much color change and really icky, slimy spinach to strain out

Celery Seed - no color change

Mexican Saffron - very pretty light orange

Chili Powder - light orange

Curry Powder - pretty yellow

Ground Sage - nice greenish brown

Paprika - pale beige orange

Beet Juice - pale pink

Cherries in Wine (canned last summer) - purplish grey

Raspberry Tea - soft grey

Black Tea (Barry's) - varied browns

Dried Hibiscus Flowers - mottled grey

 Setting up for egg dyeing with spices and teas.

My favorites turned out to be the oranges and yellows: Mexican saffron, chili powder, curry powder, and paprika.

While I took the natural route, my brother and nephew used pens for a different take.

Eggs to warm a rocker's heart. 

Oh, and a Storm Trooper too.

A Weekend's Worth of Pictures, Sort Of...

The only thing these pictures have in common is that I took them over this weekend with my phone.


A Curious Bird...

 Dessert at a Disco-themed 50th birthday party.

The drive home on a rainy night.

An Encyclopedia of Cooking

Last year on a summer afternoon we wandered up the block to a moving sale. It was an elderly couple getting ready to downsize and move closer to their kids. My vintage antennae were twitching and I convinced my husband to come along. I’ve learned it’s wise to take him with me on these expeditions, otherwise we’d have a house full of things we don’t need, don’t have room for, but I just couldn’t pass up. He gets a subtle look I’ve learned to read as, “Are you kidding??!!!”.

There were lots of old cookbooks, boxes of them tucked in a corner of the garage. I picked out a couple for a grand total of $2.50 and headed home to flip through them. The first, and biggest, book is The Encyclopedia of Cooking, by Mary Margaret McBride, first published in 1959. It’s full of recipes from another era, some that I’ll try, others, um, not. The other book is hilarious and worthy of an entire post of its own next week. (How’s that for a stay-tuned tease?)

The Encyclopedia of Cooking is over 1,500 pages long, a hefty book of recipes straight from the 1950’s and 1960’s. The recipes range from cookies that look good even in black & white, to gelatin salads (yuck), to frankfurter casseroles I don’t even want to imagine. There’s even a canning section that, though out-dated, is fun to read through.  I’ve definitely gotten my money’s worth out of this book, and a bit more.

Irish Bread - Part One

Over the St. Patrick’s Day weekend I decided to try baking Irish Soda Bread. It’s something my mother made often when I was growing up, but she never wrote down the recipe. It was all in the look and feel of the dough, a little more flour, a little less milk, a dash of something else. And always lots of raisins. Traditional soda bread doesn’t have raisins in it, but we all loved those sweet raisins, tradition be damned.

I didn’t know what were eating was soda bread until a few years ago; we always called it “Irish bread” not knowing what made it any more Irish than other types of bread. A little research this morning answered that question and a few others.

I didn't have any buttermilk in the house; I used milk instead, not realizing that baking soda needs acidity to activate properly. My soda bread was a little too dense, a tiny bit doughy, but tasty anyway. Lots of butter on warm bread is a good thing.

In a week or two I'll make another loaf using proper ingredients and will report back how that turns out.

A hundred bottles of....

Lately I’ve been wondering just how many canning jars I have stashed away in my house. This afternoon, with notebook and pen, I went looking and counted all of them. Pints, half pints, quarts, little four ounce jam jars, tall twelve ounce jars, and old, blue jars. I counted jars filled, empty, and hidden in the back of the fridge. (Some of those need to be emptied; the contents are questionable. Yuck.) A few of the oldest jars with their zinc and glass lids are displayed in my kitchen, too precious to put through a water bath or pressure canner.

After a while I lost track of which jars I’d already counted, and I’m sure some were missed in the shuffle of glass, but it’s safe to say I’ve got over 300 canning jars of assorted sizes. At least three dozen of them are vintage, ranging from 40 or 50 years to possibly 80 years old. In the past couple weeks I’ve given away another two dozen vintage jars, because really, how many old jars could I ever use? I’m curious to see how many of them I get filled this summer and fall.

Water, Water Everywhere

This afternoon it’s rainy and a little chilly outside, not unusual for March by any means. In fact, I’m glad to see the rain because we’ve had so little of it this season. Back in the mid-70’s we had a drought here in Northern California and learned how to ration our water use. Lawns died, cars got dirty, we were encouraged to shower with a friend, and to flush only when completely necessary. It’s shaping up to be a drought year again, starting now, even with all this rain.

A couple years ago, after much searching, we installed a gadget on our shower that allows a momentary water shut-off for soaping up without having to readjust the temperature every time. All winter I forget it’s there and, honestly, I’m not going to turn off that lovely warm water when it’s chilly in the house. But come summer, I’ll put that valve to use. It’s a gallon or two saved, a good start, but not enough.

What I’d really like to install is a grey water system. Watching the amount of water that runs down the drain makes me think there’s got to be a better way to use this expensive resource. We talk about it when the water bill comes in, or when we’re at the local farm supply store looking at giant water tanks, which makes me also wonder about capturing run-off from the roof during the rainy season.  I think about that every time I hear water pouring through the downspouts.

We live in a modern, suburban house with a concrete pad foundation; moving and rearranging pipes isn’t an option. And our neighbors probably wouldn’t be happy to see a storage tank of any size adorning our yard. But that doesn’t mean it won’t happen someday. We’ll need to be creative about it, possibly setting up several small barrels to catch both grey and rain water and tucking them into the landscaping plan.

These days my incentive for turning off the tap and taking shorter showers is more complex than hearing my father yell about it. It’s my pocket the water bill gets paid out of, and a greater awareness of resource management propels creative and thoughtful use of household utilities. Drought or not, it’s worth considering alternatives.