Severe Weather Season

This is the week Midwesterners make sure the flashlights and weather radio have fresh batteries, the storm cellar is easily accessible, and important documents are ready to grab in one central place. Extra medications, car keys, a spare pair of eyeglasses, and old pillows for head protection are also great to have on hand in your sheltering area. Surviving a tornado teaches a person a number of things like keeping your tetanus jabs up-to-date, and taking the reports seriously. When we made our way to the storm cellar that evening, we didn't really expect anything to happen. Child, dog, and weather radio in tow, we did it anyway, and lived to be posting this today.

A week without power presented a number of challenges (flushing the toilet, for example) and while I enjoy camping, most campsites aren't littered with broken glass, plaster, a collection of out-of-print cookbooks (sob) and the neighbour's hay barn atop your motorcar (though truth be told, I always hated the Volvo).

Don't underestimate the power of even a small tornado. Don't believe me? Click HERE, HERE, and HERE too. This was the work of a small tornado. There were actually two-the other one hit in town (we live in the outlying countryside). Imagine what a larger one would bring.

I was glad, as we began cleaning up that I was already serious about food storage. Cooking was the very last thing on my mind, and we just don't live in a place where you can run out for a quick bite, or groceries for that matter. Besides, I was somewhat occupied with other activities, like pulling large shards of glass from my walls, my carpet, between books in the bookcases (still not sure how that happened). Four years later, I'm still finding things in the yard, or hunks of melted plaster behind cabinets. Being able to grab a jar, pry it open and have food handy really made a world of difference as we tried piecing our home back together. I like potato crisps and ice cream as much as the next rural resident that grabs a quick snack at the gas station on the highway, but it gets old after a while. Poor Danny still can't look at a box of cereal as he ate so much of it straight without milk in the days following the tornado. Once we got over the initial shock, and the reality of what a mess we had to clean up sunk in, food became a welcome bit of normalcy. I may have regarded food in terms of subsistence prior to that June evening, but after, I've kept a watchful eye on the supply of dried fruit in the larder. Don't ever take raisins for granted. Raisins and clean water can save your life.

In the years since, I've been more methodical in my food storage, and I do a rather good job of rotating items out. For rice and beans, I'm a fan of hard plastic bottles that juice comes in, but then I find it easier to pour than scoop. They work well for sugar also. Small soda bottles are re-filled with water and kept frozen for power outages, transporting groceries home on hot days, and the occasional injury requiring an ice pack. I do canning, but that really only keeps me set for about a year (freezing won't help much if you lose power). With that in mind, I want to direct you over to Chef Tess Bakeresse, and her method of preserving dried foods as complete meals, in jars. This is genius. Obviously, I wish I'd known about this method years ago, but better late than never (it isn't like the weather in Nebraska is suddenly going to become more calm, and reliable-it was 87 degrees at the farm today, in Mid March!). While you're at the site, take a look at the beautiful painted breads Tess creates-they are nothing short of incredible.

If you're a local, or can drive in for the event, the Severe Weather Symposium on 31 March 2012 at UNL. If you're planning to go, drop me an email and we can organise a meet-up . You know I'll bring food. You know you want to see the weather balloon being launched (don't lie, you know you do) and the giant model of a piping plover ("Pebbles") will be making her annual appearance for souvenir photos (we have the yearly photos of Danny and Pebbles displayed on our piano. Yes, we are kind of strange. Some people do visits with Father Christmas, we do Pebbles the Plover at UNL).

Even if you don't live in an area prone to severe weather, a bit of preparedness is never a bad thing, and a $30. weather radio that can broadcast emergency information can pay for itself the first time you actually need it. In hindsight, the thing that really kept us from being too horribly freaked out by the experience was knowing what to do. You can always panic later, but having a procedure to follow, knowing you have prepared for it-it won't undo the power of a tornado or a hurricane, but you do tend to function better when it is a matter of grabbing a bag of flashlights, radio, etc. by the door to the storm cellar rather than trying to round up everything as you take cover. I keep an emergency kit in the car as well. There's a reason schools conduct fire drills (and if you live in the Midwest, Tornado drills). While I'm not the sort of person that panics imagining all the terrible yet unlikely things that can happen, and require my son to wear full hockey gear to play in the yard, I do like to plan for things I know have a reasonable chance of happening. Part of a child learning to be independent is knowing how to proceed in an emergency, and conduct his or herself without being crippled with anxiety if mummy or dad isn't there to tell them what to do. With younger children, it helps to give them a specific task to be in charge of. Danny took his flashlight duties very seriously the night of the tornado, and in a way it gave him a feeling of control (a very small bit, but still) over some small part of the experience. He couldn't stop the storm, but he could keep the light on.

Lastly, I want to mention how important our volunteer fire departments are in rural areas. With power lines down everywhere, and the firehouse itself being hit, they still managed to get out and check on the welfare of people. After the storm, other local departments made their way to farms bringing water for flushing toilets, livestock, and had cleaning supplies if you needed them. Yes, the Red Cross and FEMA also did great work (really, they did) but the under-funded and often overlooked VFD's really did come to the rescue of many a family stuck out on an acreage without power to run the wells. If you have a few bucks, and you're looking for a good place to send it, small town fire departments can always use the help.

Plan ahead, because if the weather of late in these parts is any indicator of things to come, we're going to have one heck of a severe weather season.

Aebleskiver

Nothing says, "St. Patrick's Day", like the food of the invaders. A few of these for breakfast, and you'll be leaving intricate stone carvings all over the place, and penning epic poems.*

You'll need a special pan for these, which are available in Scandinavian shops, though the one I have is a mass-produced, non-stick Nordicware. I like it very much, and it cost around twenty dollars. They are not giving me anything to say that-I genuinely like their products.

Traditionally, these are not filled, but served with jam or applesauce. I had half a pear and half an apple looking lonely in the fridge so I cooked them in butter and cinnamon sugar. Filling aebleskiver is simply a matter of blobbing a bit of filling in the centre and then dabbing on a bit more batter. Turning them takes a bit of skill, but even ones that aren't perfectly spherical will hold together. You could make them savoury as well. Any pancake batter will do, and I don't see any reason you couldn't use a mix if you don't care to be whipping egg whites first thing in the morning. I'm curious to try these with a cornmeal pancake as a side dish for beans-Stop looking at me like that, Danish/Mexican fusion cookery is the next fad, I swear.

From the New York Times Heritage Cookbook:

2 cups buttermilk
2 eggs, separated at room temperature
2 cups plain flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1 teaspoon bicarb.
Butter to grease pan
Filling if using

Beat egg yolks into buttermilk. Sift flour, salt, sugar and bicarb together. Beat into egg mixture. Beat egg whites until stiff. Fold into egg batter.

Heat the pan over medium heat until good and hot. Brush each well with melted butter. For filled aebleskiver, fill wells 3/4 full, top with a dab of filling, and then a bit more batter to cover. Cook until bubbles break on surface (about 1 minute). Carefully turn (flip with a knife or spoon) and cook about 1 minute longer on opposite side. Serve hot (they don't keep) with jam, syrup, or whatever you like.

* Oh come on, it was a really long time ago, though for their part, the Danes could apologise already.

Kentucky Lemon Pie-New York Times Heritage Cookbook

Confession, I've never made lemon meringue pie. Further confession-I'm not sure I've ever eaten one. Well, that's all changed now as I'm sure this pie will go into regular dessert rotation here.

For most of my life, I was under the impression lemon meringue pie was not only disgusting, but probably dangerous to eat. Like most misconceptions, this one came courtesy of my mother who once got sick on lemon meringue pie, the memory of which remained so strong she couldn't walk past a bakery case containing one without diverting here eyes. Similar reactions would play out at the mention of Spanish rice, Pepto Bismal,or bourbon and ginger ale. I'm not sure if the Pepto was prior or subsequent to the ingestion of the above mentioned food and drink, but my mother may have been the only case of someone actually getting a worse case of the shits from Pepto Bismal. So yeah, I don't know why I took her word for the pie all these years when I disregarded every other bit of motherly wisdom she felt the need to impart which I won't re-quote here to avoid bringing people here from Google searches of an impolite nature.

The pie, the pie, yes I'll get to that. You see, apart from my mother's warnings about food safety, there was always the issue of intimidation. I fear soft meringue. There's a reason I've yet to make a Baked Alaska, and it isn't because I don't like ice cream. No, I've never been quite certain what it was supposed to be like, having been forbidden to eat it. Was it soft like whipped cream? Crunchy like a baked meringue shell? Without a sense of what I was aiming for, I figured there were plenty of other desserts I could prepare without wandering into meringue territory. Besides, I'd read in many a cookery book about, "weeping" meringue. That didn't sound very appetising, and if anyone could make beaten egg whites cry, it was probably me. I avoided the stuff for years. I once made some brown sugar meringue bars that were probably overbaked as I still had no concept of what it was supposed to be like. Today, I stared at the three big lemons on the counter, shrugged, figured, "What the hell", and apologised to the memory of my mother. I baked the damn lemon pie. It is excellent. I did not throw up, reach for Pepto Bismal (or bourbon) and I'm kind of sorry it took my mother being dead twenty years for me to at last wander into the universe that is softly baked meringue. I'm sorry mum, but it is not like eating, "frothy spit."

The recipe is an old one, from the great big blue edition of the New York Times Heritage Cookbook. I used my own all-butter pie crust recipe, which I will include with the recipe. At first read of the ingredients, it sounds like an ungodly amount of sweetener (sugar and corn syrup) but against the tartness of the lemon juice, it ends up being just about right, if not a hair on the sour side. Consider yourselves warned-I would not reduce the amount of sweetness in this pie. I did not try any substitutions for the corn syrup, but I'd be interested to know if you try it. I have a large tub of glucose syrup I've never bothered to use, so perhaps I'll give that a try next time. Still, I'm loathe to mess with perfection, which this pie clearly is. This is really fantastic pie.

You Will Need:

For The Pastry:
1 1/2 cups plain flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup cold butter
4-5 tablespoons ice water

Combine flour and salt. Cut in butter until you have fine crumbs. Toss on water a tablespoon at a time and mix only until it comes together in a light ball. Gather together and set aside a few minutes before rolling out. Roll pie crust thin and high on the sides. Chill in plate before filling.

For The Lemon Filling:

6 large eggs
1 1/2 cups light corn syrup
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1 teaspoon cornflour (cornstarch)
1/2 cup lemon juice
Grated rind of one lemon
1 tablespoon melted butter

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

Beat eggs until well combined. Add syrup and continue beating. Combine sugar and cornstarch and add to the mixture, beating. Add the lemon juice, rind and butter. Beat until mixed. Pour carefully into pie shell. Bake fifteen minutes. Reduce temperature to 300 degrees F. and bake another 45 minutes, or until set. Cool, then chill before topping with meringue.

Meringue:

3 egg whites at room temperature
1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar
3 tablespoons icing sugar

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Beat egg whites until foamy. Add cream of tartar and beat until stiff. Add sugar, a tablespoon at a time until well incorporated. Spread meringue over pie making sure to touch the pastry edge all around (so it won't weep). Leave the surface rough. Bake ten minutes, or until meringue is slightly browned. Cool, and chill again. Serves eight to ten, or three really greedy ones.

Phyllo Pizza

You can make an excellent pizza using phyllo dough. Brush the layers lightly with olive oil, and top as for regular pizza. Bake at 375 degrees F. until nicely browned. I served mine at room temperature.

Keeping the Museum Safe From Unattended History Students

The sign on the door at the Saunders County Museum stopped us in our tracks:
"No Unattended Children Under 13 Permitted."

We'd taken Danny on a field trip to a local museum, but I guess it was a good thing we didn't send him there alone. Wahoo, Nebraska is a very small town. It wouldn't be impossible to be on a first-name basis with most of the neighbourhood children, or at least know their family. There certainly isn't anything in the collection that would be attractive to steal, and aside from a wide, spacious staircase the place doesn't seem terribly dangerous requiring adult supervision. We couldn't imagine the rationale for this rule, so we asked.

The docent informed us that "Children under thirteen don't have a reason to be there without an adult." She mentioned that some underage museum goers had recently shown up, and she had to turn them away. She sounded annoyed that they still tried to gain admission even after seeing the sign. Imagine that, children begging to be admitted to the local museum! They must have been up to no-good. What possible reason could those delinquents have for wanting in a place like that?

Mr. ETB reckons it has more to do with liability, fear of something that, could happen, however unlikely. I've never heard of small town children being kidnapped from the local museum, but the fearful may believe there's danger lurking in the dark corners behind the player piano, and the baseball exhibit. Speaking as someone who spent many an unaccompanied hour wandering the Oriental Institute gawking at mummies in a neighbourhood considerably riskier than Wahoo, Nebraska I think perhaps this policy is misguided. The thought of children interested enough in the history of their county being turned away at the door is really heartbreaking. Would it be so terribly difficult to give them a guided tour if it is so dangerous for them to be there unattended? The place is small enough to cover in ten minutes. There is every reason for children to be in a museum, attended or not. Not every parent can, or is willing to spend time accompanying their children to a museum (or library, or park). The website claims to have programmes for children, accompanied children, anyways.

"Hey you damn kids with your history books, and curiosity...get outta here!"

Quisp and Other Cereal (Serial) Flashers

I doubt very much that Mr. ETB will even open the box to try any, but when I saw Quisp had been reintroduced onto the market, nostalgia got the better of me, and I bought it. He's so difficult to buy presents for, but who wouldn't want a box of sugary cereal with a nose-less, propeller-headed space alien on the front? Right.

We went back to the farm store today to watch baby chicks and ducks again. They had turkeys in as well, but I've lived in the country long enough to know that turkeys are mean sons of bitches. Oh yes they are. Belligerent, aggressive, destructive-there's a wild flock that live on the S-curve out of town and woe to the unsuspecting motorist taking that blind curve at anything over 30 MPH. Turkeys ain't nothing nice. Consider yourselves warned. Ducks on the other hand are lovely, and their eggs are wonderful. If you don't have enough cash on hand to by one you can always put it on their bill. You can groan at that, I won't be insulted.

Something began rooting out my garlic bulbs, so I'm not expecting much of a crop this year. I must have planted fifty, and so far I've found about fifteen partially sprouted cloves dug up around the garden. Hopefully some will make it. I'll toss on some more dirt, and hope for the best.

Have you ever heard of an Abe Lincoln tomato? Neither have I, but we're growing them this year. I've been a bit more selective with the tomatoes these past few years as I always end up with more than I want, and you can only preserve so much chutney. Danny gets his own patch of garden this year, and has taken great care selecting varieties of seed that do well in our climate, and considering cross pollination. In an ideal situation, I could hand off all the difficult work to Danny, who will consider it all great fun, and I can sit in the shade reading all summer. I don't really believe this will happen, but I find it preferable to the reality that I'll likely end up tending both gardens.

On the way home this afternoon, we stopped at the park. A grandfather was there with his two granddaughters, maybe two and four at the oldest. The older girl was fascinated by Danny, and kept following him around. Danny, trying to be polite (as she was younger) kept stepping out of the way to let her go down the slide first, or climb past him, but she returned, running right back to stare at him, too shy to talk. Poor kiddo was exasperated by all of this, declaring that, "Small children shouldn't be permitted on playgrounds as they don't know how to play properly." I could nearly believe in reincarnation listening to that outburst, as I observed my son morphing into my Gran. I'm still somewhere between pleased and horrified.

This was also the week my son came up with his first slightly off colour joke. He read in the newspaper about a "serial flasher" in Lincoln. The apartment complex was called (not making this up) The View. Anyway, Danny was amused by the fact that the flasher was providing himself better lighting with his mobile phone, and remarked, "He must have wanted to make sure she could see his Grape Nuts! Get it? "Serial flasher."

Oh, how he laughed at that one for hours. Hours, and hours, and hours. And hours.

Happy Weekend.

Salad From a Sunny Window

Nasturtium leaves, rocket, leaf lettuce, pea shoots-all from pots in my dining room window.

This is how I manage until spring in my part of the world, though admittedly we had a rather mild winter. Figs and Manchego cheese, and a dressing of oil, vinegar, fennel seeds, preserved lemon peel, and a few flakes of red pepper came together as a nice first course. Yes, they do the salad course first, and I've been unable to sway them.

The main course was a spicy chickpea stew in roasted tomatoes, carrots, paprika, and preserved orange peel over fried slices of polenta (what most people call, "mush"). It was nice. We have leftovers (also nice). I am completely uninspired of late, but thankfully have shelves of jars I put up earlier. That takes much of the guesswork out of dinner beyond, "which jar shall I open?" The freezer is stocked as well. I don't think I could face a supermarket this week-I know I couldn't.

If you've never grown nasturtiums, I really encourage you to try. They like a sunny spot, and grow happily in pots. Mine are trailing up the sunny window, but have yet to produce flowers. That's fine with us, as we prefer the spicy leaves to the blossoms. They grow quickly, and the tiny buds can be gathered to pickle as false capers (I did that near the end of last summer).

Helloooooo...

...anybody still here?

We've been busy with all manner of illness, a heavy school schedule, an early spring (it was 75 degrees F. here today-insane!), dentistry (oh god, have I been dealing with dentistry), a bit of a fly problem here on the farm (see, "an early spring"), automobile issues, and...and...and...well you get the idea. I could go on though...I just like you guys enough to keep it short and sweet. See? See how I suffer to please you? No, Never mind, I don't need to talk about it. Can I get you a cup of coffee or something to eat? (hey, how's my Jewish mother guilt coming along? I'm getting better at it, aren't I? I've been working on it-I'll bet you could tell).

When life is doing all the stuff that life knows how to do best (because it never seems to do the, "You just won the lottery, woke up tall and thin, world peace has broken out, and whatever else never happens) I do what any rational person would do at the beginning of March in Nebraska-I took my seven year old son to the farm store to look at baby chicks.

Baby chicks are inarguably the cutest thing on the planet. No, ducks aren't nearly as cute, and puppies just look like rats when they're born, so stop arguing with me (I said it was inarguable, aren't you paying attention?) but little yellow birds? Awwww factor of a thousand. Since I was already at the farm store, I bought a red currant bush. Yes, that was an impulse buy, thanks for noticing. The packaging claims it will bear fruit the first year, but I don't think two or three berries will count. We'll see. Mr. ETB will be delighted to know he has yet another hole to dig through our heavy, clay soil. He's lucky I didn't come home with a chicken coop and chicks. I told Danny I'd consider it next year if he's still being responsible and doesn't run off and try to join the merchant marine or something. Right now he's pretty focused on rabbits, but he won't breed them because he knows I'll cook them. He wants a bunny as a pet. I can't cook it once he names it, that would be wrong.

I picked up a book called, "Outwitting Squirrels" at the library sale last weekend. I still haven't outwitted the squirrel. I did catch a small cat in the humane trap. She was really pissed off about it too. I mean, that was a really pissed off cat. Really. No one got bit freeing her though, so I guess that's OK. I'm glad we didn't catch a skunk. The squirrels are sitting on the roof laughing at us. Hear that? Hear that? That's squirrel laughter.

OK, screw this, I'm going back to the farm store for another dose of relaxing fluffy yellow chicks. Danny noted that their peeping in unison is rather a pleasant sound-maybe I'll go make myself a recording as an audio tranquiliser.

Peep. Peep. Peep.

Twinkie Bombe

I decided to recycle the Twinkies the boys bought for my birthday into a dessert. I had some stale brownies as well-those are the base. The strawberry ice cream was homemade, and probably the best part of all.

Happy weekend. Library sale at Swanson tomorrow, if you're local.

Election

Danny: Last night, the Guardian said if Romney and Santorum were any closer, they'd have to legalise gay marriage. I don't think they'd like that-they'd have to debate each other every night.

I'll just leave you with the mental image of that cozy domestic scenario. I keep picturing Santorum screaming about the toilet seat being left up.

Mouths of Babes, etc.

Last Saturday, we went to the observatory. I usually make hot chocolate when we get home (in the winter, anyway). I asked Danny if he wanted marshmallows in his to which he replied,
"Well, did you think I was going to say, no?"

Yeah, silly me, what was I thinking.

Last evening, I let him stay up and watch a bit of the Oscars as Danny has taken a sudden interest in speeches. We've downloaded numerous historical speeches (Nixon resigning, Ford taking office, etc.) but I thought he might find Oscar acceptance speeches interesting. I was correct-he loved it and tried his best to stay up to the bitter end, but couldn't. As we watched, I had to explain who most of the people were.We enjoyed looking at the silly frocks, and watching the goofy antics of the presenters.

Me: Look Danny, that is Angelina Jolie. She's supposed to be the most beautiful woman in the world.

Danny: What?

Me: People think she's beautiful.

Danny: Well... I mean, she's acceptable.

Potatoes, Sauce, Cheese

This is a reasonably easy way to use up extra boiled potatoes. I can't give you an exact recipe as I don't know how many potatoes you have, but I will give you the recipe for two cups worth of the sauce.

You Will Need:

Boiled potatoes cut into 1 inch dice (or thereabouts)
Butter
Dry breadcrumbs
(About) 1 cup of assorted cheese (I had Muenster, Cheddar, and Romano) grated 1/4 cup reserved
Salt/Pepper

Butter dishes generously and coat with dry breadcrumbs knocking out excess. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Place potatoes in dishes, add salt/pepper to taste. Place dishes on a heavy baking sheet. Set aside while you make sauce. Set aside cheese.

Sauce:

4 tablespoons butter
4 tablespoons flour
2 cups milk (I had 2%)
1/2 teaspoon mustard powder
Salt/Pepper to taste
Reserved cheese

Melt butter in saucepan. Add flour and cook with a wooden spoon over medium heat until it begins to foam. Slowly whisk in the milk. Add the mustard powder. Cook, whisking constantly until sauce thickens. remove from heat, stir in 1/4 cup of reserved cheese. Pour over potatoes in dishes.

Top dishes with remaining 3/4 cup cheese. Place in oven and bake 30-40 minutes or until bubbling and golden.

Things That Piss Me Off

I mean other than the squirrel, which we still haven't caught. This morning someone had defeated the humane trap, but the culprit got away free. I think I heard him in the outside wall later in the day. So yes, the squirrel is still pissing me off, but not enough to resort to firearms. Yet.

No, I mean things that piss me off in a more general, "What sort of a world do we live in?" kind of way. We can excuse the squirrel-he's just doing what squirrels do and doesn't know any better, but what the hell is wrong with:

The person that wrote THIS?
I'd like to go on record pointing out that we aren't exerting some sort of class privilege. We're suffering financially to homeschool, and sooner or later I won't be able to hold my car together with duct tape. The generalisations are so incredibly broad that it is almost comical that the author feels the need to point out she's a product of public education. Furthermore, we still pay taxes for our local schools. People homeschool for a variety of reasons, but reading this trite article, you might come away thinking only religious fanatics and well-to-do liberals who hate public schools homeschool. I guess it is nice for the religious homeschoolers to have someone else get the broad brush treatment for a change. I don't hate public schools. I don't judge people who send their children to public schools, parochial schools, boarding schools, military schools, or wherever they feel is best for their child. I do resent the suggestion that we can't be arsed to bother with curriculum and watch Simpsons re-runs all afternoon. I know many, many homeschoolers of many backgrounds, and I have yet to see the sort of fantasy depicted in the article. Urban legend, perhaps?

Also Pissing Me Off- The Belief That All Adults Are Child Molesters:

Lenore has a case of a teacher who bought a student lunch and is now in deep shit for the kindness. Today, a local school district in Nebraska is talking about implementing a policy prohibiting "friending" your students (or letting them friend you) on Facebook. There's a whole hell of a lot of reasons to avoid letting your children on Facebook, but fear that the classroom teacher is a pervert probably isn't a realistic one. I had a favourite teacher in middle school that used to take me to the film night at the local library because I was interested in old movies. To do that, on unpaid time was really something that I (and my parents) appreciated. I can imagine what that would look like today. If you don't teach kids who is a real threat, or at least what sort of behaviours to be wary of, how are they to be expected to tell the difference? Assuming everyone is a potential child molester/abductor/ax murderer seems like a rather sad way to go through life.

The Use of the "At Risk" Label to Infringe on the Rights of the Poor and Minorities:

I wonder how, "voluntary" this really is. I also wonder how they define child abuse and neglect. Judging from some of the charges we read about in the paper (many of which are tossed once they get to court) it doesn't sound like they have a very defined way of identifying abuse. I'm no legal expert, but I have to think if you let people in your home without a warrant that are looking for something, they're probably going to find something making the trip worth their effort. Whoops-you left dirty dishes in the sink...you're living in filth! You get the idea. Again, I'm no lawyer, Constitutional scholar, etc. but personally, I'd make them get a warrant, just on principle.

Just Awful.

If Sticking Your Hands in the Air and Surrendering Isn't Enough, What Is?

Baby Name Regret:
. I've probably told this story before...in college I had a friend whose sister misspelled the baby's name and it read, "Telephone" on the birth certificate. I think she was going for something along the lines of "Telifonie", but got telephone instead. I don't know if she ever changed it, but her sister was outraged by the stupidity. "She named her baby, "Telephone!"

"I Was A Bit Unhinged:
Was? The guy in painting with his blood, and carrying a crack pipe in his pocket to a newspaper interview.

Well, it Was a Pretty Neat Game:
This one doesn't piss me off, but I had to link to it. I'm sorry, I really had to.


Anything irritating you guys? Feel free to share.

Using Up Odds and Ends Cake

Egg whites left from making pasta and ice cream, a bag of rhubarb I froze last Spring, the handful of less-than-perfect strawberries at the bottom of the quart, half a package of cream cheese, a few cherries left in a jar-this is more often than not how I decide what to bake. Knowing a few basic recipes can be helpful, particularly when feeling unwell (oh dear god, am I unwell) and faced with an icebox filled with things that need to be used or wasted. I don't care how sick I am, wasting-be it food, energy, egg cartons that can be used for seedlings, drives me absolutely to ranting. As my family prefer not to hear ranting, they humour me, and make sure to keep the compost separate from the rubbish bin. We all have our quirks.

I did not measure to make the strawberry rhubarb filling. I used about 4 cups of fruit and three cups of sugar, with a tablespoon of lemon juice. In a saucepan I brought it to a boil over medium heat, stirring until the sugar dissolved. After that, I increased the heat and cooked it rapidly until it reached the gelling point (more or less) by sheeting off a spoon. I'm less exacting with cake filling than a large batch of jam I plan to preserve. I cooled it at room temperature, then chilled it completely before using it to fill the cake. We still have 1/2 a pint left for toast, pancakes, ice cream or whatever. You can do this sort of thing with most fruit that you are left with a small bit of. I've even used leftover tinned apricots and the syrup it was packed in to make a small bit of apricot jam. If you learn nothing else from my blog, learn how to avoid wasting food.

The cake is from the Betty Crocker Picture Cookbook, 1950 edition. I made the one called, Delicious White Cake, which it indeed is. I used all butter, but half shortening would be fine as well. I like this recipe as it used us 1/2 a cup of egg whites, which is about what I have left after making pasta. I like meringues as much as the next baker (no, not a cliche-in fact, I probably like them more than the next baker...OK it is still a cliche, but cut me some slack) but you can only make so many and it was raining the day I made this. An angel food cake would require many more egg whites, and I've already made my cherry egg white breakfast loaf bread a few times this winter. Delicious White Cake it was to be.

The frosting was nothing more than equal amounts of softened cream cheese and butter beat with icing sugar and thinned to a spreading consistency with cream. Easy. Really easy.

For a white cake, this has kept really well. You do need to go to the trouble of beating the egg whites to stiff peaks which is a bit more work than white cakes that work on the "dump it all in a bowl" method, but a moist white cake is sort of a rarity, and one that makes use of exactly what you have on hand is even better. I baked this as a layer cake because I had the filling to use, but it would work just as well in a sheet pan, or a tube pan. It really is moist enough that you could forgo the frosting entirely if you had fresh fruit to use, or what have you. I guess you could do fairy cakes if you felt the need, but then you'd be obligated to ice them or everyone would think you were German. Nein! No frosting for you!

You Will Need:

(for two 9 inch layers or a 9x13 sheet)

2/3 cup butter (or half shortening)
1 3/4 cups granulated sugar
3 cups cake flour or 2 2/3 cups plain flour
3 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
3/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/3 cups thin milk (half water) (I took this to mean "if using whole milk" I wouldn't bother with 1 % or skim)
2 teaspoons flavouring (I used vanilla)
4 eggs whites (to total 1/2 cup), stiffly beaten

Grease and flour pans. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Set rack in the centre.

Cream together the butter and sugar until light. sift together dry ingredients. Add the extract to the milk/water mixture. Add in alternating additions. Beat egg whites until they hold stiff peaks. Fold into batter.

Pour into pans and bake 30-35 minutes for layers, 35-40 for sheet. Cool 15 minutes in pans on rack, then remove from pan and cool completely on racks. Frost and fill as desired.

Cranberry Orange Chutney

The recipe for this chutney comes from The Complete Book of Canning published by...Ortho. Yes, that Ortho. It is from 1982, and some of the "people" photographs are priceless. I of course looked far less stupid in 1982. You probably did too...but we weren't featured in an Ortho cookbook, were we now?

I bought a ton of cranberries after Thanksgiving when they were on sale, and had them in the freezer ready for just this sort of use. Oranges were on sale last week-here is the obvious result. This is a lovely chutney, though a bit sweet for my taste (and I like sweets). I substituted very finely shredded fresh ginger for the crystalised which was probably a good thing given the sugar level of this. Do as you like.

6 medium oranges
1 pound cranberries
2 cups granulated sugar
1/4 cup finely chopped crystalised ginger
1/8 teaspoon cayenne
1 cinnamon stick
1 clove garlic, peeled
1/2 teaspoon curry powder (I had Madras)
3/4 cup raisins

Remove outer peel from oranges and slice into thin strips to toatl 1/4 cup (I used kitchen shears to make light work of this). From four of the oranges, remove the rind and pith and slice oranges into 1/4 inch thick slices. Cut in quarters. remove any seeds. With remaining oranges, extract juice to total 1/2 cup.

Combine orange peel, and everything else EXCEPT orange segments, in a large pot and bring to a boil over medium heat stirring constantly until sugar dissolves. Cook until cranberries pop. Remove from heat, remove cinnamon stick and garlic clove. Stir in orange segments.

Pack hot chutney into hot, sterilised jars and leave 1/4 inch head space. Remove air bubbles, wipe rims with a damp cloth and cover with a heated lid. Adjust screw bands and process 10 minutes (adjusting for altitude) in a boiling water canner. Kill the heat, remove canner lid and let jars cool down 5 minutes longer before removing to a heat-proof surface. Check for seals after 12-24 hours. Make 6 half pint jars.

Spiced Orange Slices in Honey Syrup

I almost wish I didn't make these, as they are so good it might be difficult to practise good portion control. I suppose you could make them less indulgent by spooning it over good yoghurt, but I think we all know that would be pointless because there is no such thing as good yoghurt. Yoghurt is the devil.

The recipe is simple enough to do, but I will caution you to keep an eye of the slices as they simmer because if they come to a boil, or really anything beyond the gentlest simmer, they will fall apart. You want slices of orange, not peels that used to have orange sections in them. Gentle simmer, OK?

From the Ball Blue Book:

2 1/4 pounds of oranges (about 4 large)
1 1/4 cups sugar
1 1/4 cups honey
1 lemon, juiced
3 sticks cinnamon
1 1/2 teaspoons whole cloves
1 1/2 teaspoons whole allspice

Sterilize jars. The recipe said it would make three half pint jars, but that sounded wrong based on the volume of oranges. I ended up with five and a half pints! It always pays to prepare some extra jars as you never know how much variation there can be.

Heat (but do not boil) lids. Wash screw bands.

Wash oranges and drain. I scrubbed the hell out of mine, but that's your call. Slice oranges discarding ands and seeds. Cut slices in half. Place in a large pot and cover with water. Simmer gently until tender (about an hour).

Drain slices carefully (don't just dump the pot into a colander, but remove them with a slotted spoon. The slices are delicate at this point). Combine sugar, honey and lemon juice in the large pot. Stir to dissolve sugar and heat over medium. Bring it slowly to a boil, but keep an eye on it as honey is notorious for boiling over suddenly. Lower heat to a simmer, add slices of orange (gently) and tie spices in a spice bag. Add the spice bag to the pot and simmer forty minutes. Gently.

Remove spice bag. Pack hot oranges into hot, sterilised jars leaving 1/2 inch headspace. Remove air bubbles, wipe rim with a damp cloth and fir with heated lids. Screw bands fingertip tight (you don't need to use all your strength for that) and place in a boiling water canner. Process 10 minutes (adjusting time for your altitude) and after ten minutes kill the heat, remove the lid and let cool down 5 minutes before removing to a heat-proof surface. After 12-24 hours, check for seals.

Pancake Day

Yes, I did get up early to make pancake batter, but I made crepes. For some reason I can't manage the fluffy, American style pancakes, but a crepe is as simple as can be. Extra crepes can be frozen, which makes them all the more attractive to me.

I taught Lent today, and we came across a Shrove Tuesday tradition from Slovakia where a sweet roll is suspended on a string from the ceiling and children bob for it like an apple. Next year. I am doing that next year. I've been finding all this helpful information in a book called, It's Time For Easter by Elizabeth Hough Sechrist and Janette Woolsey, 1961. While they cover most of the basics, there's a good sprinkling of linguistics, cultural traditions, and stuff that would appeal to those outside of the faith. I like that they don't assume the reader is familiar with the holy observances, and make an attempt to explain it without endorsing it. I wouldn't go as far as calling it, "Easter explained for atheists" but it is helpful in a comparative religions sort of way.

The tradition I was less fond of was the once from Finland, (I think) where the children wake their parents early on Shrove Tuesday by beating them with sticks to get out of bed and make pancakes (OK, in Finland it is probably blini, but they are technically pancakes, correct?). I don't think we'll be giving that particular tradition a go next year.

Raisin Crumb Pie

We were divided over this pie-the men loved it, I did not. Admittedly, while I like raisins, raisin pie is not one of my favourites. What I found really remarkable was the thickness of the crumb topping-look at the photograph. That's quite a ratio of fruit to crumb with the topping clearly winning. I found it too much, but again I'm biased. Mr. ETB feels that is the best part of a pie.

I followed the recipe in Marcia Adams, Heartland the Best of the Old and New From Midwestern Kitchens. This is a lovely books (as are all her books) and most of the dishes (like raisin pie) are familiar having lived in Illinois in the 60's and 70's. While some of the recipes are newer, they still reflect regional history and make use of abundant local items.

I did not use the pastry recipe Adams suggests as it relies on vegetable shortening and vinegar. I used to make that sort of a crust before they started messing with the Crisco. It is true that you will get a flaky crust with the old, "no fail" pie pastry recipes, but I get a great dose of heartburn as well. I went with an all butter crust instead. I'd stick to whatever you typically use for a 1 crust pastry, as the star of this shoe is pretty clearly the topping.

You Will Need:

A shallow 9 inch pastry shell
1/2 cup dark raisins
2 1/4 cups water
1 cup brown sugar
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons cornstarch
2 tablespoons butter

Topping:

1 cup plain flour
1 cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 cup butter, softened

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

Prick pie crust all over and blind bake 5 minutes. Remove from oven and set aside.

In a 2 quart saucepan combine raisins, 2 cups of the water (reserve rest), lemon juice,
and salt. Bring to a boil over medium high heat stirring occasionally. In a small bowl, combine cornstarch and remaining water, beating until smooth. Whisk it into the raisin mixture and boil until bubbling and thick-about 2 minutes. Beat in butter. Remove from pot and cool before filling pie. Meanwhile make the crust.

For the crust: combine flour, sugar, ginger, cinnamon, and soda. Cut in butter until you have crumbs.

Assemble and bake:

Pour filling into pie crust. Top with crumbs and bake 25-30 minutes or until top is golden. Cool, and store in the fridge.

The Best Interview I've Read in Some Time

HERE. Really, just go read it.

Chelsea Buns

They worked! I used the overnight rise in the fridge, then warmed them back to room temperature for an hour before baking.

For the dough, I used a sweet yeast bread dough (I rather like the one in the 1950 Betty Crocker Picture Cookbook). I let it rise 2 hours, punched it down and let it rest 20 minutes. I rolled the dough into a large rectangle, spread it generously with 3 tablespoons softened butter and about 1/2 cup of brown sugar. I sprinkled it with a generous amount (about 2 cups) chopped dried apricots, raisins, and cherries. I rolled them, cut them thick and placed them not quite touching in well-buttered pans. At that point, I set them in the fridge overnight.

Next day: Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Warm rolls to room temperature (you can hurry things along by placing them atop the preheating oven) for about 1 hour. Bake 25-30 minutes. Remove to a rack over a backing sheet (to catch drips) and pull buns gently apart. Brush generously with honey.

Projects, Ideas, Weekend

* Edited to add the corned venison. Yep, I'm brining it for two weeks and with any luck, I'll have something to serve Mr. ETB on blackbread with sauerkraut. I've obviously done this with beef, but the venison roast was new territory for me. I can't believe I did this whole post and forgot the most interesting part. That's it, I'm taking my sick arse back to bed.




The Great Backyard Bird Count began today. We have been watching in 15 minute increments.

I'm sick. So. Damn. Sick. Coughing, nose-blowing, all manner of misery. I did what any sane person would do-I defrosted a large container matzo-ball soup, made ice cream, and mixed up the dough for a batch of Chelsea buns to rise overnight in the fridge. I'll update with the results of the overnight rise. I do this with cinnamon rolls, so I don't really see why Chelsea buns would be that different. We'll see.

The nasturtiums and pea shoots growing in my sunny window are thriving nicely. I always feel like I'm cheating winter keeping my window box garden, though I have to admit this winter has been pretty mild. The bay laurel is thriving as well. I love being able to go pluck a bay leaf off my tree in the dining room.

Sunday With a Scientist at Morill Hall is snakes this month. I think I could pass on that, particularly with being ill, but I suppose the kid will want to go.

24 February is public viewing night at Behlen Observatory in Mead (weather permitting).

I have been spending evenings and weekends working on a hand-written/illustrated cookbook for Danny. I've been trying to fill it with basics and funny stories from his childhood. I'm using a large bound sketchbook, and so far (I'm about halfway through it) I really like how it is turning out. The internet and blogs are great, but I I thought he might appreciate something a bit more personal. He's already sworn himself to bachelorhood, and feels prepared as he knows how to make a pot of tea and whip up sardines on toast. Just in case he wants to branch out, I'll have something to present him with.

I made a crumb-topped raisin pie today-and I have no idea why. I loathe raisin pie. I must be having some sort of Illinois nostalgia (scratch that-I never feel nostalgic for Illinois) or I was down to dried fruit in the larder (True, that). Maybe the rest of the family will like raisin pie as they lack the childhood associations.

I made a Ploughman's Pickle last week that turned out terrific. Did I write down what I did? No, sadly I did not. It was just odds and ends of apples, carrots, courgettes..damn it, I never think it worth the bother to write these things down as I go and then I end up with the best pickle of my life and I can't recreate it. I'm going to but a dry-erase board for the kitchen lest this ever happen again.

Kiddo eats half an apple each morning with breakfast. He likes a variety, so by the end of the week, I have various apple halves tightly wrapped in cling film. Today, I fried some with onions, thyme and butter. Perfection.

Are you familiar with puffy drop sugar cookies made with sour cream? They have a sugar top and a raisin in the centre. Last week, I made use of some, halved as mini-strawberry shortcakes with sweetened whipped cream. Everyone thought I was a genius. I was just lazy, but shhhhhh don't tell anyone.

I don't know why black history only gets a month, but I figured one of the reasons I homeschool is to cover material I deem relevant. Monday, we start, Soul on Ice. I'm pretty sure that isn't in the local curriculum. After we cover the American history, I'm going to do an in-depth African history course over the summer. I figured I'd take it by region, chronologically. I had Danny run through listing as many African countries as he could, off the top of his head. He only missed two, so I feel pretty confident he'll be able to keep things like the historical Kingdom of Mali from the present day Nation Mali. Or I'll confuse the hell out of him, and then we'll start over. Again, homeschooling gives me that luxury. I've yet to find a decent general overview African history textbook, so I'll probably use a number of texts and primary sources. I remember getting a copy of Facing Mount Kenya when I was about ten and thinking it was pretty interesting.

I have a squirrel problem again. I don't mind them outside. Sometimes I really miss city living. He can't get into the living quarters of the house-but I heard the little fucker in the wall...again. I could really do without a squirrel in my wall. Ideas? Anyone?

Hey! Have a lovely weekend.

Old Fashioned Apple Cake

I couldn't be arsed to spend two minutes arranging the apples neatly. Look, I baked a cake-you want it fancy as well?



I'm posting this recipe as the end result was pretty good, but bear in mind the recipe itself left quite a bit to decipher. The cake comes from a small, softbound cookbook, From Williamsburg Kitchens 1993. The recipes are presented as, "Regional" rather than historical, which makes sense as I doubt very much they were making use of hydrogenated vegetable shortening in colonial days.

The "recipe" is little more than a list of ingredients and an oven temperature. I can tell you, it took closer to 45 minutes to bake than the 25 suggested. I am going to go ahead and post what I actually did, though I really felt the cake was somewhat overbaked at the edges and underbaked at the centre. I'm not a fan of Crisco in cakes as it gives me terrible heartburn. Terrible. On the other hand, it does tend to limit how much I'm able to consume. Silver lining, people-I keep telling you to look for the silver lining. Anyway, I'm sure you could make a better apple kuchen, but I'll post this just for regional interest.

You Will need:

1/4 cup shortening
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 large egg
Dash of lemon
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
Pinch salt
1 cup Plain flour
Dash of nutmeg (my addition)
1/3 cup milk
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Topping:

2 apples, pared and sliced thin
1 tablespoon butter
1/4 cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon (I omitted this)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease a 9 inch cake pan. If I were to do this again, I'd flour it as well-the cake stuck horribly.

Cream the shortening and sugar until light. Beat in egg mixing well. Stir in lemon juice. Sift dry ingredients together. Add vanilla to milk. Add, alternating. Do not over-mix. Pour into prepared pan. Arrange apple slices on top. Dot with butter and sprinkle with sugar. Bake 25 (their suggestion) to 45 (my reality) minutes. Cool in pan on a rack.

Beans

This was a dinner of Southwestern flavours with salmon, vegetables, a fresh salsa, and homemade tostadas. What really impressed the family was the black beans. I know, beans. How exciting is that? I'm posting this more as a reminder for myself.

What I did:

Cooked black beans, reserved most of the cooking liquid. In a large pot, put in about 1/4 cup of corn oil, 5 large carrots cut into matchsticks, 1 bunch scallions, chopped, a few cloves of garlic. I cooked this over medium heat until the carrots were soft, then added a spice mix of:
Chili powder
Cocoa
Cumin
Coriander
Smoked Salt
Oregano
Black Pepper
Red Pepper flakes
Paprika

I cooked this until it evenly covered the vegetables, then I added the drained beans. After a minute or two, I added enough of the bean cooking liquid to cover. When that cooked down, I again added liquid to cover. Unlike refried beans, I didn't mash them, and let the pot bubble away slowly. When it was sufficiently thickened, I removed it from the heat.

Personally, I think it was the smoked salt.

Baking Day

I baked some bread today.

Sourdough semolina with sesame (gah! Too much alliteration!)

Pumpernickel
(Mine was light and dark rye with blackstrap molasses, cocoa, caraway and coriander (damn! There I go with the alliteration again.)

Baguettes
(Pretty basic flour, water, salt, yeast and malt syrup for colour)


Sourcream sandwich loaf
I brushed the top with heavy cream which gave it a lovely, soft, shiny...oh stop it already.



So, what did you do today? I'll bet you weren't as alliterative as I was.

Happy Valentine's Day. SMOOCH! I love you guys.

Chocolate Bavarian Cream, Meringue, and Chocolate Malt Ice Cream

It isn't too late to make something for your Valentine's Day dessert. Someone skilled could have arranged this in a better way, perhaps taken a decent photo. That isn't me. Still, it made a lovely "pre-Valentine's Day" dessert, and the meringues are so light you almost forget about all the fat in the Bavarian. And the ice cream. The meringues are fat-free, so there you go!

For the Ice Cream:

1 cup whole milk
1 cup heavy cream
3 large egg yolks
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup malted milk powder
1/4 cup dark cocoa powder

Scald milk and cream in a saucepan. In a large, heatproof bowl whisk together the egg yolks and sugar until smooth. Slowly beat in the milk mixture in a thin stream. Return combined mixture to pan and cook, whisking gently until it reaches 170 degrees F. Remove from heat, Strain into a heat-proof bowl. Whisk in cocoa and malt powder. Chill before processing either in an ice cream maker, or as I did in a metal tray in the freezer (scrape with a fork every 20 minutes until firm).

For The meringues:

6 egg whites at room temperature
2 cups sugar, divided
1 1/2 teaspoons white vinegar, divided

Beat egg whites until just firm. Beat in half the sugar slowly, a tablespoon at a time. Beat in 1 teaspoon of the lemon juice, then half the remaining sugar (a tablespoon at a time) and then the remaining vinegar. Add last of sugar a tablespoon at a time beating until meringue holds very stiff peaks and is glossy.

Pipe into squares on a parchment lined baking sheet. Bake at 275 degrees F. for about an hour, or until mostly dry. Turn off oven and let sit several hours until dry.

For The Bavarian Cream:

1 tablespoon gelatine powder
1/4 cup whole milk
2 ounces unsweetened chocolate, shaved fine
4 large egg yolks
2/3 cup granulated sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 cups whole milk, scalded
1 cup whipping cream, whipped

Soften the gelatine in the 1/4 cup of milk. Combine egg yolks and sugar in a saucepan, whisking well. Add salt. Slowly whisk in the scalded milk and shaved chocolate. Cook over low heat, whisking until mixture reaches 170 degrees F. Remove from heat, whisk in the gelatine and when completely dissolved, strain through a sieve into a clean bowl. Chill until just set. Meanwhile, beat the whipping cream until stiff. Fold whipping cream into the slightly set cream mixture. Pour into an oiled 1 quart mould (or several small ones) and chill several hours before unmoulding.