What a Difference a Month Makes

This year has been a funny year for gardening. The winter was brutal and so some perennials died back a bit. We also had a super cool spring and so we got started a bit late on planting the veg.

Just a bit over a month ago, this is what our newly planted vegetable garden looked like:
 

And as of a few days ago, after a serious weeding, it looked like this:

There are teeny tomatoes on all of the tomato plants.  Tiny cucumbers are growing. I have already made one small lunch batch of pesto from backyard basil and have used dill in a salad made with farmer's market potatoes.  It's so great to be able to walk out to the backyard at dinner time to "shop" for ingredients we need.

Gardening is like magic.  I mean, it's hard work, I guess.  But after such a miserable winter, it's hard to believe that all of this green and growing and bounty will return.  And that it grows like weeds on top of that?  It makes me feel lucky and it makes me feel proud that we have been working this ground for seven years now, creating a bed that supports all of this life and food production.

As proof of that. . . as I was weeding the whole garden on Sunday, I thought, "Why don't we use gardening cloth to keep these weeds down?"  But once I was done weeding and could see the darkness and loamy-ness of the soil, I thought, "We worked hard to make that soil so rich and pretty.  I'm not covering that up."  I am a silly and vain gardener as it turns out.

Plus, new for 2014! Dan has made me three trellises for container gardening: 

 

Our veg plot is so small, that it's hard to give up space to large trailing plants like watermelon or winter squash.  So, this year, I'm growing those and summer squash in containers with the hopes of growing them vertically and training a number of them up on to the trellises.  It's just a side bonus that they will also cover up our boring gray garage for a few months.

I definitely got a late start on these, but squash grow so quickly that I'm not worried.  And those containers are jam-packed with organic potting soil and manure.  By next month, I expect them to all be two to three feet up the trellises. And I have dreams of late summer watermelon and winter squash dotting the trellis in tiny support hammocks.

Fingers crossed.

Yummy Beef Soup

I like beef and I especially like beef from our seller at the Oak Park farmer's market.  Every fall, we stock up on the last day of the market so that we have healthier and more responsibly grown beef throughout the winter.  This year, we tried a new cut--beef shank.  We got two.  The first I made into a more traditional Western pot roast-like meal cooked low and slow in red wine and stock with mirepoix.  But truthfully?  Meh.  Dan loved it, but I won't cook it that way again. There's a dusty taste to cheaper beef cuts prepared in that way that I don't like and everything in the dish ends up tasting like beef. . . as it turns out, I don't like beef that much. 

So, on my second try, I thought, "Let's try to keep the yummy beef, but this time, let's let everything else still taste like itself," and enter my attempt at an Asian-inspired soup.  I made an Asian broth of ginger, carrots, onion and beef--and then used the broth and the beef (now falling off the bone), plus new veggies to make a super tasty soup that satisfied on a col winter's night.  Here's how. . . 

Amy's Asian Flavors Beef Soup 

(Serves 2 with large entree servings)

Hands on time: 30 minutes  Total Cooking Time: 5 hours

• 1 lb. beef shank
• 6 in. long ginger root--skinned and then cut into inch long chunks
• 1 med. yellow onion--peeled and quartered
• 5 large carrots--peeled; cut two carrots into big chunks and dice the other two carrots
• 1 c. head napa cabbage (bok choy might also be good)--rough chop
• 1 sm. bunch green onions--dice up all of it right down to the roots
• 1 c. peas--frozen or fresh
• salt and honey to taste
• optional hot pepper

Make the Soup Base
In a 3.5 quart dutch oven, toss in 4 of the ginger root pieces, the yellow onion, the two chunk-cut carrots, then fill pot 2/3rds full with water.  Put over high heat on the stove and bring to a boil.  Once boiling, add the beef shank (the water should come to within an inch of the top of the pot.  Bring water back to a boil and then immediately turn heat down to medium low, put the top on and simmer for a minimum of 4.5 hours.

Finish the soup
Using a slotted spoon, remove the beef shank (which should be falling off the bone) and set aside.  Remove the rest of the big chunks of vegetables and dispose of them.  Then strain stock into a bowl through a fine strainer lined with a cheese cloth to take out all of the tiny bits of impurities.  You should be left with a pretty, clear yellow broth that smells delicious.

Put the broth back on the stove and season to suit your taste.  I am a fan--especially with a dusky meat like beef or pork--of a slightly sweet broth and so I use the honey liberally and then throw in a tiny dash of cayenne pepper.  Bring the soup back to a boil, throw in the diced carrots, and the rest of the ginger (the ginger shouldn't be eaten, it's just to add an additional fresher ginger taste in the close).  Put the top back on, reduce the heat to medium.  Cook for ten minutes and then add peas and cook for another 5 minutes.

While the carrots and peas cook, shred the beef into bite-sized chunks (be careful, it might still be hot) and evenly divide between two big soup bowls.  Also divide cabbage and and green onions between two bowls (make sure you evenly divide the white and green parts of the onions between bowls).  Ladle two spoonfuls of hot soup over the ingredients in the bowls to warm them up and gently cook the cabbage and onions.

In two minutes, Ladle the rest of the soup (dividing carrots and peas evenly) into the two bowls.

And then enjoy.  This is ridiculously good. . . especially on a cold winter's day.

Apple Sauce

For the first time ever, the farmer's market had sour apples. Not sour apples like they have on the farm at home. . . But pretty sour.

Which means I had to buy them and make homemade apple sauce.

Apple sauce is crazy easy to make, and there are few things finer than thawing out frozen freshmade apple sauce mid-winter to eat with pork or as a side for a winter sandwich and salad.  (Please Note:  However, I think you have no business making it unless you have a food mill.  Food mills create the perfect silky apple sauce and nothing else will do).


Ingredients:
Apples (at least 4 lbs.)
Water
Lemon peel
Lemon juice
Brown sugar
Cinnamon

Core and cut apples into fourths.

Put in pot with enough water to cover half of the pile of apples. Boil/steam with the lid on the pot for 20 minutes.

 

Place food mill over second empty pot. Once apples are soft, using a slotted spoon, transfer small batches of cooked apples into food mill.

 

Once all apples have been run through food mill, mix in juice of one lemon, 1 heaping tsp cinnamon, and 1/4 cup brown sugar per 4 lbs apples. Taste and then add lemon juice or sugar to suit your personal taste.

Eat right away or freeze. Frozen, it will last throughout the winter.

How my Garden Grows

So, remember this back in early May?

 

My totally ugly backyard garden that Dan converted into the lovely ready-for-planting wonderland pictured below?

Well, now it looks like this--beans up, zucchini and squash growing like gangbusters, tomatoes all either flowering or already sporting green tomatoes.  Totally amazing.

Gardening and then getting to eat what you've grown during the summer?  It's one of the best things in the whole world.

And look. . .

Baby baby baby squash.  I can't wait until he grows just a little bit more. .  . so I can EAT HIM!

Anniversary Breakfast

Our anniversary is actually June 10th, but Dan had a show so we delayed until this weekend. We started our hang-out day with a train ride into the city and then brunch at the Eleven City Diner.

(my honey is so cute. . . even when he's messing around)

nom nom nom nom nom

 
These are not our drinks. But we sat at the bar and watched the bartender crank these out, non-stop, by the dozen the whole time we were there.

Super entertaining. . . and do Bloody Mary's usually have a deli cheese/meat garnish?  That detail almost made me want one.

Butternut Squash Ravioli

Homemade Butternut squash ravioli--every bit of it. I made the filling two weeks ago and then the fresh pasta and assemblage last weekend.




Finally assembling the raviolis by the antique light of sunset. Cooking makes me feel connected to something. . . something historical and long-lived. Every piece I learn feels both important and inevitable.

These ravioli are part of a long-term obsession. Years and years ago, I went out for a holiday dinner with my whole work office at the restaurant "A Mano." Sister restaurant to its upstairs neighbor, Bin 36, it was one of the yummiest Italian joints I'd ever visited in Chicago. And the second course was pumpkin ravioli. . . coming at a time in my life when I hated pumpkin soup, butternut squash as a side dish, anything orange and squashy and edible. The only use for pumpkin was a Halloween decoration or pie.

But that ravioli--sweet and rich and buttery--served with walnuts, crisped individual leaves of brussel sprouts and tangy blue cheese changed my mind forever. And eating it, in the warm, sort of cavelike openness of A Mano, after the cold mile walk from work, up over the river, neck craned to take in the Marina Towers, surrounded by friends, I thought I might only want the waiter to bring that course again and again for the rest of the night.

And when A Mano went out of business in 2010, I knew that the only way to get those yummy ravioli again would be to make my own.

I've been working on it ever since.

I couldn't stop being domestic today if I tried. I made and froze the filling for butternut squash ravioli. . . ran out of steam before making the pasta, because I had already made homemade chicken potpies (from scratch) and prep-cheffed out for stir fry later in the day.

I cleaned the bathroom. I cleaned the kitchen. I mopped the floor.

But back to that butternut squash. I have made butternut squash soup about 8 times in the last 3 years. That means that I have cleaned about 18-20 of these bad boys--carving and peeling off the tough outside skin and then chopping the squash up into small pieces to then boil in stock to soften. What was I thinking?

The squash pictured above was rubbed with olive oil all over and then brown sugar on the cut faces of the squash and then I baked it in the oven at 375 degrees for an hour with the cut-side down on the cookie. when I took it out, the flesh just scooped right out. Tender. Sweet. AND NEXT TO NO WORK AT ALL!!!!! It was amazing.

Nom nom nom.

Xoco

Dan and I had dinner at Rick Bayless's Xoco last night after taking the train into town and walking through the snowy city. It's a funny little shotgun restaurant where you either squeeze in next to other patrons at shared tables or sit on high chairs at narrow bars throughout the joint. Casual street food eatins. . .

I had Chicken Tortas.


Dan had Carnitas Caldos (the broth? consomme? was awesome).


Both were really good. . . but the thing I'd go back for were the churros:


The churros were hot out of the fryer and came with their own little mug of Mexican chocolate dipping sauce. Is there a better dessert with snow laying a few inches thick outside?

Best Brussel Sprouts Ever

So, I found a recipe on Poppytalk that sounded good. But I had to change it. I don't know if I have difficulty with authority or just following recipes in general, but I can rarely leave them just as is. . . except in baking which feels like chemistry I don't understand and thus don't want to monkey with.

But these sprouts were amazing.


Preheat Oven to 400 degrees.

serves 2-3

2-3 handfuls of sprouts
2-3 T Olive oil
Ground Sea Salt to taste
Garlic Powder to taste
Ground Red Chipotle Pepper to taste (or Cayenne, if you prefer)
Ground Black Pepper to taste
(I put the dry seasonings in order of which you should use the most to least of. You can use the sea salt pretty liberally. But the idea with the red pepper isn't to make these little buggers incredibly spicy. . . just to give them a little pleasant heat.)
Honey to finish

Directions--clean sprouts as usual, cutting off tough ends and stripping a few outer leaves. Cut all but the tiny-tiniest in half, then soak in cold water for 15 minutes. Drain the sprouts and lay them out on paper towels--you have to do this with the cut side down or they will retain a lot of water.

Scatter sprouts over a metal baking tray. Pour olive oil over all sprouts, then sprinkle all dry seasonings over sprouts. Use hands to shuffle and mix sprouts on tray until they are evenly covered with oil.

Put in oven for twelve minutes. At end of twelve minutes, use a spatula to stir them around, flip them over, then put them in for another twelve minutes. (24 minutes total will carmelize them nicely--much more than that and they will burn.)

Pull them out of the oven and while still on tray, salt them a tiny bit more and dribble a little bit of honey over them. The honey--like the hot pepper--is not meant to overwhelm them or make them intensely sweet. It's just an additional flavor to round them out.

These are ridiculously good. It's like healthy comfort food.

Stewart Phillips Traditional New Years Day Brunch

Every year. First day of the year. Tea (me), coffee (Dan), orange juice, scrambled eggs, maple sausage, and warm out of the oven Danish puff pastry.

You have to start the year out right, doncha know.

Danish Puff Pastry Recipe

As part of a brunch, this will serve 6-10 people.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

First Part:
1 C. flour
1/2 C. softened butter
2 T. cold water

Second Part:
1 C. water
1 C. flour
1/2 C. butter
1 t. almond extract
3 eggs

Icing: 2 C powered sugar and enough warmed milk (1/3 cup?) to make a fairly runny, but still opaque, simple icing.

Plus: 1/2 C walnuts, finely chopped

Directions:
Mix first part. Divide into two even halves and pat each part out on an ungreased baking sheet. Both should be @ a 10"x4' rectangle. Both should fit on one large baking sheet.

Second Part: bring water and butter to boil. Take off heat. Add Almond extract and flour immediately. Stir until smooth, then add eggs, one at a time, mixing until smooth and full combined between each egg addition. Divide second part into two equal halves and spread evenly on top of the two strips of dough on baking sheet. Pat smooth.

Then cook for 60 minutes until lightly browned.

While still hot, drizzle liberally with icing and nuts. The icing is the only source of sweetness for this pastry, so don't be shy with your application. Best the 1st day, but also yummy as a leftover one day later.

Good Thing Fourteen: Christmas Food Traditions

Monkey Bread--made by Dad.


Strata--made by Mama.


The family is capable of making real cranberry sauce. . . and we do. Even a really creepy creamy one that I think has horseradish in it. But we all love the canned cranberry sauce the best. Truly. And for the holidays we usually cut it into holiday specific shapes--turkeys for Thanksgiving, stars for Christmas. (My grandmother also always made bunnies out of pear halves for Easter. . . )


And then Pepper always hanging close by the table hoping for something to conveniently fall to the floor for her.

Good Thing Eleven: Raclette

Man. As long as there is raclette in the world--plus the tiny red potatoes and gherkins to eat with it--there will be a reason to be grateful.

If you've never had raclette, you may not allow me to convince you of it. It's a stinky swiss cheese meant solely for melting and eating with salty buttery potatoes. It's undoubtedly terrible for you and the raclette is about $18.00 a pound. . . so, it's also pricey. And really, it's the perfect dinner meal after you have either driven a herd of cows or a flock of sheep amid the Alps. . . or alternately skied all day long or lumberjacked your way through a few giant cedars using only one of those two-handled saws, back and forth, back and forth.

I do none of those things.

But Dan and I have it at least once a year. We eat less cheese now--to save money, I guess, and to leave room for other things. Now we have raclette (just melted in a non-stick fry pan. nobody needs one of those fancy raclette cookers) over buttery boiled potatoes, with gherkins (traditionally to cut the grease of the cheese and potatoes. . . seriously, you have to try this), sliced up brats, and salty/lemony broccoli.

We got some greens in there. See. Now it's healthy.

How is Christmas two weeks away?

We've been so busy this year that the whole Holiday season has sort of crept up on us.

But this weekend, we went shopping in town to all of our favorite groceries and butchers to pick up food we don't get out in the suburbs. The Vietnamese grocery on Argyle, the Greek shop just off Clark on Foster, the German grocer/butcher in Lincoln Square.

And as weird as that sounds, that will put me in the holiday mood. The holidays are all about love and gift giving and community and eating well. . . well, we're going to eat well all week!

August

August is the best eating season ever. Tomatoes straight from the plants in our garden. Red Haven peaches at the farmer's market. Melon, peppers. . . and the season will end with onions and potatoes and spinach and butternut squash. Best time of the year, hands down.

Perfect Summer Salad

I can't believe that July is almost over. I have spent so much of this summer wrapped up in my health that it's skidded past me. It's silly, but while still bound to lay down much of the day, I feel like it will be fall and then winter before I know it.

So, I'm bringing summer inside with the perfect summer salad this evening.


Ingredients:

fresh sweet corn--cut right off the cob
red onion--diced
fresh basil--given a good chiffonade
apple cider vinegar
olive oil
freshly ground pepper and salt to taste

No specific amounts here, because who knows how much corn you have on hand (plenty, though, I hope this time of year!).

But this is how I put it together in a little word puzzle:

for each ear of corn, I add 1 T each of oil and vinegar.
for total amount of corn, I add half as much red onion.
I add enough basil so that it looks like there might be a bit of green in each bite.

It's so simple. As simple as summer food should be.

Pesto Day

We usually have a pesto making day a few times a summer. Early July, late August, and, if we're lucky, late September--however long it takes the basil plants to grow back every time we snip them down to their lowest few branches.

Mama--my nursemaid and companion after surgery--was nice enough to harvest the basil today, while I prepped everything inside for pesto making.

There's a recipe below, but I don't truly believe in pesto recipes. They're only ever there to give you a sense of what goes into a good pesto in general proportions. Because a pesto's ingredients are so few, how each ingredient tastes (and how those tastes vary widely between kinds of basil or garlic or types of olive oil or parmesan cheese) can change the pesto's final flavor drastically.

So, the recipe below is the basic, no fail recipe that will get you to a good balanced flavor, but then you should expect to add ingredients in small amounts to get to the flavor that you most prefer.

The two most important ingredients are basil (as fresh as humanly possible--right from the garden is best. Once basil leaves have been off the plant for more than 2-3 days, the flavor diminishes significantly and they should be discarded.)


And garlic. The garlic should be as fresh as possible as well. Older garlic tends to mellow, and since pesto is made to go on hot pasta, the heat of its final destination will mellow the garlic flavor a little. And I like my pesto to have some bite. Mama brought me fresh dug garlic from the farm in Cincinnati. . . lucky me.


And the garlic was soooooo pretty. I loved the purple inner papers.


Summer Pesto Recipe (makes 5 1/2-cup servings of pesto--or enough pesto for five pesto dinners for four people per dinner):

1 c. parmesan cheese (roughly chopped from a big block. get good cheese. it makes a difference.)
1 c. pinenuts
7 garlic cloves (or a whole medium sized head of garlic, peeled and smashed with the flat of your chef's knife)
8 c. basil leaves (preferrably sweet Italian basil)
3/4 c. + 1 T. olive oil (some people really care about the kind they use, but whatever flavor it could impart is pretty overwhelmed by the garlic and basil)
1/2 t. salt
5 turns of pepper grinder
1 t. honey (optional)

I suggest tasting as you go, so that you can get a sense of how each ingredient affects the flavor. But I usually put it together in this order: In a large food processor, pulse together the pine nuts, parmesan, and garlic until they look like cheaper parmesan shake-cheese you can still get at the grocery.

Then add basil with olive oil--you may have to do this addition in a few batches because the flat leaves take up a bunch of space. . . but hardly any once pulsed. So add a handful of leaves and some of the olive oil, pulse, repeat.

Definitely taste it at this point. If there's no bite from the garlic, you need to add more. If there's no nutty flavor, you will need to add more pinenuts. Then add the salt, pepper, and honey.

Honey is not a traditional ingredient of pesto and its purpose is not to make the pesto taste sweet. Both honey and molasses--much like salt--are excellent for making a thing taste rounder and more fully like itself. Trust me. Maybe make the pesto without honey, but then add a short drizzle to one half cup of it, mix it up and see whether you prefer it with or without.

We immediately put this pesto into small 1/2-cup tupperware containers and freeze them. I don't honestly know how long its advisable to keep them once frozen. But we have certainly thawed them out in early March the following year and found it to be just as good and tasty as it was the previous summer. And man, in the winter doldrums of early March in Chicago, nothing is better than eating food that tastes so green and homegrown to chase the blues away.

Recovery & Rehab

So, the big surgery is out of the way, and I'm now in recovery. My back hurts, but I'm meant to walk about as much as I can. These first few days, I've decided that's mostly scuffing around the house, in combination with one big walk a day(I'm only allowed to use stairs once a day, so. . . not a lot of other choices).

Mama is in town to take care of me, and so we used Freddie's ridiculously yummy ices as a draw for the walk midway point. I had lemon. She had raspberry.


And then on the walk home, we took a slow-mo gander at all of the neighborhood roses. . .







It's a little over half a mile one way. And so now, I'm bushed. But the ice was totally worth it!