Tuesday, November 9, 2010

¡Ay, caramba!

"Hay Grinder on fire. Got it out." That was the text message that Hubs sent to me this afternoon. ¡Ay, caramba! We have had a few awful hay fires in the past, and my mind immediately raced to the memories of those blazes. Tons and tons of hay were lost then. Thankfully, today's sparks caused minimal damage and hay loss. Hubs' quick action and the help of the fire department prevented a huge catastrophe. 

Tonight, as my exhausted Hubs naps in his chair in front of the TV, the only heat is my laptop charring my legs as I menu plan for the rest of the week. ¡Ay, caramba! Lately, I have gotten so lazy about planning our meals. Usually, I just open the fridge or freezer and hope that something jumps out at me. It is a hit or miss way to get a meal On My Plate, and I just hope that whatever jumps hasn't been in the fridge long enough to actually (and not pretend) be coming to life again and really jumping.

One recipe that a friend recently shared with me easily fits heated last minute planning. Taco Soup uses basic pantry items and can even be heated in the crockpot, if time is short. I adjusted the original recipe to suit what I have on hand most of the time, and you could alter it to suit your own tastes. Add a can of black beans to stretch the servings further; change out the diced tomatoes to plain or those with jalapenos; brown diced green peppers with the onions and ground beef. (My friend makes a veg version by using meat substitutes instead of the ground beef. She also recommended ground turkey as an alternative.) Serve it up as a soup, or use it as a topping for baked potatoes. Garnish with shredded cheese, sour cream, black olives, even shredded lettuce, diced onion, and tomato. My choice was with Deluxe Corn Muffins (with a can of green chiles added to the mix) on the side and crushed corn chips, shredded cheese, and freshly chopped cilantro on top. It's not On My Plate, but rather, in my bowl, and nobody will be shouting "¡Ay, caramba!" when you ladle up Taco Soup.



1 pound ground beef 
1 cup chopped onion 
1  15 oz. can kidney beans, undrained
1  15 oz. can chili beans, undrained
1  15 oz. can fat-free refried beans
2 cups frozen corn
1  15 oz. can tomato sauce
1  15 oz. can diced tomatoes with green chiles
1 1/2 cup water (If you want it more like a chili consistency, reduce or leave out the water.)
1 package taco seasoning
1 package Hidden Valley dressing mix(not buttermilk)

Brown the ground beef with the onion in a soup pot.
Combine the remaining ingredients and bring to a boil. 
Reduce heat and simmer for 15 minutes. (Serves 6-8)

Sunday, November 7, 2010

The Whole Enchilada

I *think* that I might finally be done canning the tomatoes from the garden. I still have a large bowl of cherry and yellow pear tomatoes on the counter for snacking and salads, and kept a couple big ones for slicing on sandwiches this week, but otherwise, all of the ripe tomatoes have been processed into some kind of salsa, sauce, juice, or jam. Yes, there is a tub of green ones that are tempting me into trying pickled green tomatoes (I have made my fill of green tomato salsa.), but I don't know if I want to go there. I am so over the canning thing for this year. I am ready to give up the whole enchilada.

Finally tally is 193 quart, pint, half-pint, and 4 ounce jars lining the pantry shelves from my garden produce. Not all are tomato-based, but most are. It will be nice to just grab a jar from the pantry shelf when I want to make spaghetti, throw together a quick snack with the salsa or the jam, make a traditional pizza, or whip up a pan of enchiladas. Yes, even enchiladas. I am testing a from scratch recipe for enchilada sauce that seemed to go over pretty well in my trial batch. Let's hope the jars of sauce don't disappoint this winter. Beef or chicken, I will be happy with enchiladas made with From Scratch Enchilada Sauce On My Plate.



5-8 pounds tomatoes
1 cup white vinegar
3/4 cup chili powder
1/2 cup salt
2 Tablespoons cumin
2 Tablespoons oregano
2 Tablespoons cinnamon
1/2 cup sugar
1 can tomato paste


Chop tomatoes and place in a large, heavy pot over medium heat.
Add the seasonings.
Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 30 minutes to an hour, until tomatoes have cooked down and flesh has released from the skins.
Remove from heat.
Process tomatoes through a food mill/cone colander with pestle/sieve/or similar utensil to strain the seeds and skin.
Return sauce to heavy pot and bring to a simmer.
Ladle into prepared jars (I used half-pints) and secure lids.
Process in hot water bath for 30 minutes.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

How Do You Chop Water?

The other day, I received a text message from a friend. He asked if I had ever made Tabbouleh. I replied that while I love this fresh salad offering at Sanaa's 8th Street Gourmet, I had never made it myself. "Why not?" he asked. I really had no answer for him. I almost always have all of the simple ingredients on hand, and I own one of Sanaa's fabulous cookbooks (Secrets of Healthy Middle Eastern Cooking) that includes her recipe. Why not? Why not NOW?

My friend and I made a pact to recreate this flavorful, healthy salad and submit dueling blog posts. I assured him that even with limited cooking skills, he could do it. "It is just boiling water and chopping," I said. "How do you chop water?" he asked. Oh boy. I *hoped* this was a good idea.

As it turned out, it was a GREAT idea, Jonathan created an incredible salad that "fills my mouth with flavor and my stomach with complete satisfaction" and posted an awesome blog post about the process. I Think I Burnt The Salad even includes the video of Sanaa making the gluten-free version of Tabbouleh.

The Tabbouleh that I prepared is a variation of the traditional recipe that includes bulgur wheat. While not gluten-free, it is still packed with the gusto of the bright flavors of the parsley, onion, and tomato. I could hardly wait to drizzle it with a little olive oil and fresh lemon juice and gobble it down. My hearty, but healthful lunch of Tabbouleh, Roasted Garlic Hummus, and (purchased) flat bread was one of the best ideas ever On My Plate.

(Adapted from Sanaa Abourezk) 

 1/2 cup Quick Booking Bulgur Wheat (I use Bob's Red Mill)
1 cup water
4 cups finely chopped ripe tomatoes
1 cup finely chopped onion
5 cups finely chopped parsley
1/2 cup fresh lemon juice (really, fresh is so much better than bottled stuff)
2 tablespoons olive oil

Bring water to a boil.
Add the bulgur wheat; stir.
Cover and simmer for 12-15 minutes, or until tender.
In a salad bowl, combine the cooked bulgur with the tomatoes, onion, and parsley.
(Can be prepared ahead to this point and dressed just prior to serving.)
Drizzle with the lemon juice and olive oil and toss to coat. (6 servings)

5 More Seconds of Fame

You know my long and rambling post about low water pressure and the pressure to do something with my green tomatoes? The one where I made the Green Tomato Pie from South Dakota Magazine?

Well...John Andrews blogged about me blogging about their pie. I have 5 more seconds of fame online in the Editor's Notebook at South Dakota Magazine. Check it out, if you like.

Monday, November 1, 2010

Lick The Platter Clean

An apple a day...wouldn't be enough for an Applesauce Spice Cake with Buttermilk Syrup. I used three peeled and grated apples AND a cup of chunky applesauce to make this lick-the-platter-clean, delicious, fall dessert.

The original recipe only called for two apples, but I had three in the bowl on the table and tossed in the additional one "just because." The extra little pieces of apple disbursed through the batter creating moist pockets of superb. fruity goodness in the cinnamony cake. Yum.

But, as yummy as the spicy cake is, it is the syrup that had my guests wanting to lick the plate when I served this dessert after a simple meal on Halloween. You KNOW a recipe is a hit when someone swirls their fork around to make sure that they get every last drop of the caramel-like Buttermilk Syrup. I was ready to avert my eyes and look away if the plate raised up from the table to meet the eager tongue, but good manners reigned strong...mostly.

Why don't you bake an Applesauce Spice Cake with Buttermilk Syrup for yourself and see if you can stand not to lick the plate? I don't think that I can resist it On My Plate.




1/2 cup butter, softened
2 cups sugar
2 eggs
1 cup applesauce
3 apples, peeled, cored, and grated
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoons nutmeg (I always use fresh grated nutmeg & grate right into the batter...never sure if I have the right measure, or not.)
1/2 teaspoon cloves
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
2 1/4 cups flour

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
Cream softened butter and sugar. 
Mix in eggs one at a time until well incorporated. 
Stir in applesauce and apples until combined.
Sift in cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, baking soda, baking powder, salt, and flour. 
Stir until all dry ingredients are moist. 
Don't over mix. 
Pour into a prepared 9" x 13" baking dish.
Bake 30-40 minutes or until tester inserted in center of cake comes out clean.
Serve with buttermilk syrup.

Buttermilk Syrup
  
1/2 cup butter
3/4 cup buttermilk
2 tablespoons light corn syrup
1 1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 teaspoons vanilla

In a large pot (Really LARGE...when the buttermilk and baking soda heat together, the foam is insane. Pick your largest pot and go buy one bigger to make the sauce...or clean up boiled over foamy sugar off your stove. You have been warned.), combine butter, buttermilk, corn syrup, sugar, and baking soda.
Stir and bring to a boil. 
Boil 7 minutes, stirring constantly. (This is when the foam really gets out of control.)
Remove pan from heat. 
Allow foam to subside, then stir in vanilla. 
Serve warm.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

I'll Get You, My Pretty


I am seeing green. Green tomatoes, that is. I wish that I could cast a spell and have them all ripen and be beautifully red...or maybe, I don't. That would mean that I would have to find yet another way to use the ripe ones...and I am running out of jars for canning...BUT...my complexion has never been more radiant from the steam of the pots of boiling water (don't you agree? bwahaha!).

So, instead of casting a Halloween spell, I will get a pretty Fried Green Tomato On My Plate. Fake Ginger made an incredibly beautiful Fried Green Tomato BLT. I love BLTs. Who doesn't? It.Is.Bacon. Need I say more? I whipped up this pretty little sandwich for lunch faster than lions, and tigers, and bears, Oh My! (OK, that doesn't make sense, but I love that line from the Wizard of Oz...sorry) There are no flying monkeys when I have a Fried Green Tomato BLT On My Plate.


(adapted from Fake Ginger)

2 large green tomatoes, sliced
1 egg
1/4 cup milk
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 cup cornmeal
1/4 cup Panko breadcrumbs
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
about 3/4 cup canola oil, for frying

Heat oil in a heavy-bottomed pan over medium-high heat.
Whisk egg and milk together in a bowl. Set aside.
In another bowl, stir together flour, cornmeal, Panko, salt, and pepper.
Once oil is heated (test by dropping a morsel of the flour in and see if it sizzles), dip tomato slices one by one in egg and then flour. 
Make sure tomato is fully coated in flour mixture and then place in hot oil. 
Fry 3 or 4 at a time, making sure not to crowd the tomatoes. 
Fry for about 3 minutes or until the crust is a golden brown; flip and cook other side until golden.
Drain on paper towels.

Assemble your favorite BLT using the Fried Green Tomato instead of sliced, ripe tomatoes. 
I love toasted whole wheat or multi-grain bread, but the original recipe used a Kaiser Roll.
I used regular (Hellman's ) mayo, but I think that a pesto-mayo would be divine on this sandwich.
Iceberg is the traditional lettuce of choice for a BLT, but I used Romaine because that is what I always have on hand.
How do you like your bacon? Mine must be thin and crispy. Hubs like his thick and chewy.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Simple Saturdays

How many of us have simple Saturdays? How many of us allow ourselves to snuggle deep under the covers and sleep late...or if you swing the other way, rise early and enjoy the sunrise with a warm cup of coffee? How many of us make time to read a book, craft, watch a movie, sit in the sun, soak in a tub, bake a cake, putter in the garden, or do whatever activity it is that makes your soul smile? 

If you are like me, your Saturdays are similar to any other day, full of lists of things that MUST.BE.DONE.NOW. There are always chores and errands and sometimes even work to rob us of a simple Saturday. And it does rob us. We need things to make our souls smile. We need a reprieve from the chores and errands and work. We need quiet happiness found in what is basically nothing at all. At least, I do. 

Today (Saturday) held a super full schedule for me. I jumped out of bed and dashed to the grocery store first thing this morning. It was there that asparagus caught my eye. It was there that the notion of claiming just a few moments of a simple Saturday took hold for me. Yes, I still had loads to do, and I wasn't going to drop the ball on that to-do list. I just wanted a few moments of quiet stillness with the sunlight dancing over a plate of roasted asparagus topped with a runny egg. Whole wheat toast on the side, and a mug of tea to wrap my fingers around as I gazed out the window. Simply the breakfast of a simple Saturday to reinforce me for the jam-packed day ahead. No, it wouldn't be a simple Saturday, but it could be a Simple Breakfast On My Plate.



asparagus
olive oil
kosher salt
fresh cracked black pepper
Parmesan cheese, freshly grated
egg(s)
Preheat oven to 400.
Toss asparagus with olive oil, kosher salt, and fresh cracked black pepper.
Arrange in a single layer on a baking sheet and roast for 5-10 minutes (depending on how many spears and how thick they are...thicker spears are better for roasting).
Meanwhile, in a nonstick pan drizzle a little olive oil and heat.
When the oil is hot, break egg into pan and immediately turn heat to low.
Cook slowly until the whites are completely set and the yolks begins to thicken, but are not hard.
Arrange roasted asparagus spears on a plate.
Slide egg on top of asparagus and break the yolk.
Season with fresh cracked black pepper, a sprinkling of salt, and a grating of Parmesan cheese.
Enjoy the simple moment of breakfast.

Friday, October 29, 2010

All the Pressures

My shower head was all gunky. I tried soaking it in those magic, de-gunking cleaners, but it didn't help. The hard water had corroded and clogged the little nozzles. The water flow was so limited that I think I could have ran through the garden sprinkler and had better spray to rinse the shampoo from my hair. But, don't worry; I won't.  I wouldn't want to scar the neighbor kids with that image...besides, it is a little chilly these fall days.

So...what does one do when the shower head is gunky and methods to remedy it don't work? One purchases a new shower head, of course. I will admit that I didn't do any research or review of shower heads. In fact, my purchase was honestly and truly spur of the moment. Hubs and I were in a home improvement store; he was looking a power tools; I was bored and wandered away and landed in the bathroom aisles. Rows and rows, shelves and shelves of shower heads stared at me. Each one begged to be my new geyser.

In a moment of unusual frugality, I didn't pick up the beautiful, multi-functioning rain shower head that grabbed my attention. I didn't step so far out of my own self as to buy the least expensive shower head, either. I picked up a middle-of-the-road, basic, name-brand, shower head with a jet feature to massage the kinks out of my neck. Not too expensive, not to cheap, functional. I plunked it into the cart, and Hubs paid for it with his assorted nuts, bolts, nails and other farm needs.

Installation was a breeze. With a little plumber's tape and a wrench, a gunk-free shower head was ready to drench my tiny basement shower. But, it didn't. I had already discarded the box, and don't know if in my frugal haste I purchased a low-flow shower head or what, but I STILL don't have any water pressure. That garden sprinkler is looking like a better idea all the time.

After all, I won't be needing the sprinkler for the garden anymore this year. With the threat of frost looming, Hubs and pulled out the tomatoes and peppers and zucchini and eggplant a few weeks ago. We were left with a TON of green tomatoes. (Really, a TON. I am not kidding, well maybe I am...but it seems like a ton.) I couldn't see tossing them all out and have found myself making Green Tomato Salsa and perusing recipes for Pickled Green Tomatoes.

I mentioned my green tomato predicament on Twitter (OK, maybe I whined about my green tomato predicament on Twitter), and South Dakota Magazine pulled up a recipe from their 2008 archives that was sure to fit the bill. They even posted the Green Tomato Pie recipe to their Facebook page. I guess that I also must have done a bit of whining about the green tomatoes on Facebook because two of my friends immediately shared South Dakota Magazine's link with me there. I was under pressure. Of course, I caved and made the pie. After all, what else am I going to do with all of these green tomatoes?

Doesn't the sliced green tomato look a little like a snowflake?
The pie was described as having the tartness of rhubarb, but carrying the comfortable coziness of a cinnamoned apple pie. This is a perfect description. I can just barely make out a little bite of tomato flavor while my taste buds are enveloped by the spices of fall. Hubs is in love with a friend's Rhubarb Cake, and I thought he might enjoy a slice or two of the pie. Unfortunately, his take-it-or-leave-it attitude toward apple pie prevailed. He didn't think it was horrible, but he won't be begging me to make Green Tomato Pie again. Oh well. He is fussy about his fruit desserts. I knew this going into the baking. Even if I have to eat the entire pie myself, I am under a little less pressure to do something with these green tomatoes when I have Green Tomato Pie On My Plate.

 
(Adapted from South Dakota Magazine and Delores Feilmeier)

Pastry for two crust pie
Six cups sliced green tomatoes
1 cup sugar
3 tablespoons flour
¼ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon cinnamon
¼ teaspoon nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon cloves
1 tablespoon grated lemon peel
¼ cup lemon juice
1-2 tablespoons butter
1 egg white, beaten
additional sugar

Line nine inch pie pan with pastry crust. 
Peel and thinly slice green tomatoes.
Combine sugar, flour, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves. 
In another bowl, combine lemon peel and lemon juice. 
Carefully toss tomato slices with the lemon juice.
Arrange tomatoes in layers in pie shell, sprinkling each layer with sugar mixture. 
Dot with butter.
For top crust, roll reserved pastry dough on lightly floured surface ¼ inch thick. 

Cut into strips, 10 x ½ inch. 
Arrange in lattice pattern over filling, moisten edges to seal strips.
Brush with beaten egg white and sprinkle with a little additional sugar.
Bake at 425 degrees for 15 minutes

Reduce oven to 375 degrees for 30-40 minutes until tomatoes are tender and crust is brown. 
*Delores says she usually uses a crumb crust on top of the pie. South Dakota Magazine used a crumb crust and a refrigerated store crust. They also omitted the nutmeg and cloves and used a teaspoon of cinnamon instead. 

 

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

In a Jam

Never in my wildest dreams did I think that this would become a canning blog, but I guess for the month of October, it has. I have always dabbled with a few jars of salsa from the garden tomatoes and made many attempts at pickles that just didn't quite do it for me, but I have never considered myself the kind of cook that straps on an apron and sets in to fill the pantry for winter.

The endless production of tomatoes (not only from my own garden, but also the garden at the farm) has changed that. I have found myself with so many tomatoes that I just didn't know what to do with them all. One can only use so much salsa, pasta sauce, plain sauce, pizza sauce, and tomato soup. I found myself searching for something else to make use of these glorious, red orbs and landed on Tomato Jam.

I will admit that I was a little leery of the unknown (to me) Tomato Jam. I have seen it featured in recipes as a topping for gourmet burgers (instead of ketchup), but had never tried it myself. However, with a mountain of tomatoes threatening to topple from my table and bury me (flashback to a crazy episode of Hoarders that is burned into my brain), I decided to give it a try. The result? Of course, I loved it, or I wouldn't be blogging about it. :-)

The flavor of this Tomato Jam is reminiscent of chili sauce. It is a little sweet, a little sassy with the cinnamon and ginger, and then the pow of the red pepper flakes hits you and your mouth grins in happiness. I loved it with cream cheese on bagels, but plan to try it on my favorite turkey burger recipe, as well. I also think it would be a good addition to a plate of sharp cheddar cheese and crackers for snacking. Nobody is in a jam with Tomato Jam On My Plate.


5 pounds tomatoes, finely chopped (DO NOT peel or seed)
3 1/2 cups sugar
8 tablespoons lime juice
2 teaspoons freshly grated ginger
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
1 tablespoon salt
1 tablespoon red chili flakes

Combine all ingredients in a large, non-reactive pot.
Bring to a boil and then reduce temperature to a simmer.
Stirring regularly, simmer the jam until it reduces to a a proper jammy consistency (about 1 to 1.5 hours).
When the jam has cooked down sufficiently, remove from heat and ladle into jars (I used the tiny 4 oz jars, but 1/2 pints would be good, too.), leaving 1/4 inch of head space.
Process in a boiling water canner for 20 minutes.
Store jars in a cool, dark place for up to one year. (Yield: 4.5 - 5 pints)

Sunday, October 17, 2010

M'm! M'm! Good!

My fall has been blessed with a bountiful harvest of tomatoes. Last year, I had jalapeno peppers coming out my ears and ventured into the world of Candied Jalapenos. This year I am searching out canning and preserving recipes for tomatoes. I have canned salsa, spaghetti sauce, pizza sauce, plain sauce, and juice. Quarts, pints, and half-pint jars filled with liquids in various shades of red line my basement pantry shelves. And now, I am adding more with some M'm! M'm! Good! Tomato Soup.

Hubs isn't a fan of tomato soup, but I love a grilled cheese sandwich dipped into a steaming bowl of tomatoey goodness. Those commercials with the snowmen defrosting into little kids are spot on. Nothing warms you more completely from the inside out than a warm bowl of soup. It will be so nice this winter when I can toast up some bread and melty cheese On My Plate and fill my bowl with M'm! M'M! Good! Tomato Soup.



10-12 pounds tomatoes, chopped (I just chopped enough to fill my 7 1/4 quart dutch oven...seeds, skins and all.)
2 yellow onions, chopped
1 head garlic, minced
1/2 cup fresh basil, chopped
1-2 tablespoons kosher salt
fresh cracked black pepper
2-4 tablespoons sugar (optional)
1/2 cup butter, softened
1/2 cup flour
plus 3 tablespoons fresh basil, chopped finely

Chop tomatoes and place in a large, heavy pot over medium heat.
Add the onions, garlic, and 1/2 cup of chopped fresh basil.
Season with salt and pepper.
Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 1 1/2 to 2 hours, until tomatoes have cooked down and flesh has released from the skins.
Remove from heat.
Process tomatoes through a food mill/cone colander with pestle/sieve/or similar utensil to strain the seeds and skin.
Return pulpy juice to heavy pot and bring to a simmer.
Add sugar, if desired.
With mixer, cream together the room temperature butter and the flour.
With mixer running, slowly add a ladle of warm tomato juice to the flour mixture.
Repeat with 4 or 5 more ladles of soup until the flour mixture is warm and thoroughly combined with a good portion of the juice.
Add the warm flour mixture to the pot of simmering juice, stirring constantly to combine.
Add the 3 tablespoons finely chopped fresh basil.
Heat thoroughly.
Ladle into prepared jars (I use pints) and secure lids.
Process in hot water bath for 20-30 minutes. (Yield: 6-8 pints tomato soup concentrate)
TO PREPARE SOUP: Mix one part jarred soup mixture with equal part of milk and heat thoroughly.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Grapes of Wrath

I think that Hubs thought I was punishing him when he first came home to a Chicken and Pesto Pizza that had sugary red grapes scattered under the gooey, melted cheese. Grapes? On Pizza? WARM grapes on PIZZA??!?? One taste calmed his indignation. It is good. Damn good. This isn't any ordinary pizza. It is the difference you have been searching for among the goopy, red-sauced, pepperoni pies. Don't be trapped with the ordinary. Try it. There is absolutely no wrath for Chicken and Pesto Pizza with Red Grapes On My Plate.

 

pizza crust (refrigerated, frozen, or homemade...your choice)
1/3 cup pesto (refrigerated works, but homemade is best)
1 1/2 cups seedless red grapes, halved
1 cooked chicken breast, shredded (rotisserie chicken or leftover grilled/roasted, whatever is in your fridge)
3 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
1/2 - 3/4 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
3 tablespoons grated Romano cheese
fresh cracked black pepper
1/4 cup green onions, sliced

Preheat oven to 425°.
Prep dough for pizza (pat, spread, unroll, whatever you have to do).
Spread pesto evenly over dough, leaving a 1/2-inch border around edges. 
Arrange grapes evenly over dough; top with chicken and garlic.
Sprinkle with mozzarella and Romano.
Top with fresh cracked black pepper. 
Bake at 425° for 15-20 minutes or until crust is golden brown. (If you use a premade crust, this bake time will be reduced until the cheese is melty and toppings are headed through.)
Sprinkle with onions.
Slice into 12 wedges. (Serves 6 average servings, but just Hubs and I usually eat an entire pizza alone.)

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Some Like It Hot

Some like it hot. I don't. I usually shrink from arguments. I might state my opinion, but I don't try to force it upon others. I might have some choice words for someone that is being an arrogant jerk, but I have to be pushed pretty hard before I will let them spew out into an ugly argument. I tend to try to stay out of the fire. I don't like the heat, but some like it hot. That is their choice. I don't have to be a part of it.

Some like it hot in food, too. I do like spice flavoring up my dishes, but I am not a fan of heat that burns off my taste buds. I think that there is a balance to properly seasoned food. Some cooks get it; others don't. Heat just for the sake of heat isn't good flavor; it is just another episode of Man Versus Food. (Which honestly, makes me feel ill if the remote lands there. I can't watch that man stuff his face with one gastric disaster after another.)

When I canned up some of my garden tomatoes into salsa, I tried to find that proper balance. We like really flavorful salsa. I love the melding of sun-ripened tomatoes and spicy jalapenos on my tongue. I like the smokiness that almost comes across as heat in the back of my throat when I add a little cumin to the mix. Chopping and stirring and simmering and processing vegetables into beautiful jars of salsa to carry some of the wonderful summer heat into winter is such a satisfying task. I like it. It is a heat that I really enjoy to put Basic Salsa for Canning On My Plate.



8-10 jalapeno peppers, chopped finely (I don't seed or pull out the spines. We like that kick.)
12 cups chopped tomatoes (I don't peel, but you could, if you prefer.)
2 cups chopped onions
2 cups chopped green peppers
6 cloves garlic
1 (5 ounce) can tomato paste
3/4 cup vinegar
1/2 cup chopped cilantro
2 teaspoons cumin
1 teaspoon salt

Combine all the ingredients in a large (heavy) pot, bring to a boil and simmer for 45 minutes.
Ladle into sterilized pint jars; seal.
Process in hot water bath for 20 minutes. (5-6 pints)

Sunday, October 3, 2010

In a Pickle

It seems that I left you high and dry for the month of September. Even though I attempted to revive my posting momentum with a supposedly weekly feature (Fridge Fridays), I still found myself in the pickle of life taking precedence over blogging. Maybe it is time that I quit apologizing for my absences and just take them in stride. I blog when I can and not necessarily when I want. Isn't that true of so much of life? Why would this online journal of what is On My Plate be any different?

The month of September was filled with out-of-state visitors, delivery of my new fridge, my first cycling event in 2 or 3 years, a milestone birthday, a wonderful birthday gift, canning and preserving, and daily sighing and repentance because I was neglecting the blog. September has been a pretty good month, but I am going to give up the sighing and repentance. This blog is what it is. I don't need to feel that I am in a pickle if I don't have time to post something. That's life.

It is the same life that brought me a bounty of pickling cucumbers from a friendly neighbor lady. Last year, I had made a ton of refrigerator pickles that we liked, but found impossible to use in the proper time frame. This year, I decided to hot water bath with another recipe and make shelf-stable pickles with most of the cukes. I haven't yet tried them, but they look very pretty. I will have to report back if they are fabulous, as my last attempt at canning pickles didn't produce the flavor or crispness that I wanted. *Fingers crossed for this one.*

Of course, one pickle recipe wasn't enough.  I had to try another small batch of refrigerator pickles. I only stuffed 2 pint jars full of sliced cucumbers, onions, and a few red peppers from my garden to play with Alton Brown's Refrigerator Pickle recipe. They are slightly sweet...like a bread and butter pickle would be...but dill, garlic, and hot peppers kick them up a lot. We have been enjoying them on burgers, sandwiches, and straight from the jar. Nobody is in a pickle with My Version of Alton Brown's Refrigerator Pickles On My Plate.



1 onion, thinly sliced
4-5 medium cucumbers, thinly sliced
2-4 cloves garlic, peeled
2-4 small hot peppers
2-4 sprigs of dill
2 cups water
2 cups cider vinegar
3 cups sugar
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon turmeric
1/2 teaspoon celery seeds
1/2 teaspoon pickling spice


Drop a clove or 2 of garlic into each of 2 pint canning jars. (I use wide-mouth for ease of packing.)
Layer onion and cucumber slices in jars, adding a couple small hot peppers and sprigs of dill between the layers.
Combine the remaining ingredients in a non-reactive saucepan and bring to a boil. 
Simmer for 4 full minutes to meld the flavor.
Slowly pour the hot pickling liquid over the onion and cucumber slices, completely filling the jar. 
Refrigerate for 24 hours before serving.
Use within 2-3 months. (Yield: 2 pints)

Saturday, August 28, 2010

Muffin Top

I tried on my jeans today for the first time in a couple of months. I have been enjoying the summer in shorts, capris, skirts, and sundresses. Jeans have not been a part of my wardrobe. Maybe, they should have been. Maybe, I should have forced my thighs into the unforgiving denim a few times just as a means of checks and balances. I really wasn't happy as I sucked in my flab to zip up my favorite pair of jeans and revealed a blubbery muffin top. Gross.

The only muffin top that I want is on a real muffin, like a Spiced Zucchini and Walnut Muffin. Fragrant with cinnamon, dense with shredded zucchini, packed with the crunch of walnuts, these muffins are anything but gross. But, if I want to fit back into my jeans, I might have to pass on the Spiced Zucchini and Walnut Muffins On My Plate for awhile.



3 eggs, well beaten
1 cup Canola oil
2 cups sugar
2 cups grated zucchini (peel if you must, but I don't)
3 teaspoons vanilla
3 cups flour
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon nutmeg
3 teaspoons cinnamon
1 cup chopped walnuts

Preheat oven to 325.
Mix first 5 ingredients.
Sift together rest of ingredients.
Add to the first mixture.
Coat 24 muffin tins with non-stick cooking spray.
Divide batter evenly among the muffin cups. (I use an ice cream scoop.)
Bake for 35-45 minutes, or until top springs back with light touch and pick comes out clean.  (24 muffins) 

NOT Fridge Friday

Yesterday, I missed Fridge Friday. I am going to blame it on the fact that I no longer have a fridge in my kitchen. Yes. That's right. I don't have a fridge...sort of.

I do have a fridge...but, it is in the basement. For the past week, every time I have needed a chilled item, I have had to go out into the back entryway and down some steep, old-house basement stairs...and then back up again with whatever I needed...and then back down again for whatever I forgot...wash, rinse, repeat as necessary.

You see, back in May (or so, I don't exactly remember), the fridge that was originally in the basement died. Everything (cheeses, butter, produce) that I had hoarded stashed there had to be transferred to the upstairs fridge. At that time, it was decided that we wouldn't just purchase another plain, utilitarian, white refrigerator for the basement. We would temporarily get by as a one fridge household, and when extra funds were available, we would invest in the stainless-steel, french-door, freezer-on-the-bottom, ice-and-water in the door baby that I had been dreaming about forever.

My dream came true a month ago...sort of. We purchased an awesome stainless-steel, french-door, freezer-on-the-bottom, ice-and-water in the door GE Profile (to match my GE Profile stainless, gas range...and that purchase is another story entirely). I was in heaven...except the store didn't have any in stock. They were on order. We were promised that within 2 weeks, the beautiful, shiny cold box could be delivered to my home. My Plain Jane fridge was moved from the kitchen to the dungeon basement in anticipation of the delivery of this new purchase. (And my daily stair running workouts began.) Fast forward to today, and I am STILL waiting. The refrigerator was supposed to be transferred to an area sister store for final delivery. However, nobody knows where it is. Nobody can tell me when it will be delivered. Nobody knows how close to going postal this makes me. 

So...I missed Fridge Friday because I don't have a fridge, but I do have zucchini. Oh yes, it is that time of year again. Gardens are overflowing with the green squash. How about a Chocolate Zucchini Snack Cake to ease the pain of my missing fridge? This is a recipe that I have seriously been making for over 20 years. It was in a cookbook that I received as a shower gift before Hubs and I were married. I love the addition of cinnamon and cloves. Chocolate chips and walnuts on top make frosting totally optional (and I usually don't bother). The cake is dense and rich and makes use of the abundant zucchini without any refrigeration needed. If I can't have my new fridge, at least I can have Chocolate Zucchini Snack Cake On My Plate.



1/2 cup butter, softened
1/2 cup Canola oil
1 3/4 cups sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 cup buttermilk
2 1/2 cups flour
4 tablespoons cocoa
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon cloves
2 cups zucchini, grated (I leave the skin on; peel if you feel the need.)
chocolate chips
chopped walnuts


Preheat oven to 325.
Cream butter, oil, and sugar. 
Add eggs, vanilla, and buttermilk. 
Stir in dry ingredients and beat well.
Stir in zucchini.
Pour into a 9x13 pan that has been coated with non-stick cooking spray.
Sprinkle chocolate chips and nuts over the top.
Bake for 45 to 60 minutes, or until pick inserted in center comes out clean. (beware of melty chocolate chips on your testing pick)

REMEMBER: The recipes are now printable. Just click on the title to open the printable page. I hope to edit the archives to make all recipes printable in the future.

Friday, August 20, 2010

Fridge Friday: Episode 10

Hey! It is Fridge Friday! Did you think that I forgot about giving you little peeks into my fridge? Never. I may have neglected your inquisitiveness, but I didn't forget. I am back this Friday with a gem.


Check it out. That is my hotel room fridge. We have all the basics: water, wine, leftovers, and a Peanut Butter Rice Krispie Treat. What could I possibly blog about from that fridge, you ask? Honestly, nothing. Or, at least nothing that I would want to eat when combined and heated in the little in-room microwave.

Instead, I am going to tell you that when we left home, Hubs had his mind made up that we were going to eat Mexican food. All day, I salivated at the thought of perfectly seasoned and grilled shrimp folded inside a warm corn tortilla with some creamy coleslaw to make the most awesome shrimp tacos. I wanted. I wanted badly. With beans and rice. Then, we got to the big city and Hubs decided he wanted pasta. So much for Mexican food. *shrug*

However, that doesn't mean that I couldn't still share a great Spanish Rice recipe with you. I have been making Denise's Spanish Rice for several years and pairing it with Spicy Black Beans whenever I serve a spicy Mexican/Tex-Mex themed meal. It is, in my opinion, excellent. Why wouldn't it be? It has bacon. Everything that includes bacon is good. Period.

So...it is Fridge Friday, and I have just a miserable hotel room fridge, and I didn't get Mexican food, but that doesn't mean that I wouldn't jump at the chance to have Denise's Spanish Rice On My Plate.



6 strips bacon
1 tablespoon butter
1 medium onion, chopped
1 small green pepper, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup chicken broth
1 (10 ounce) can diced tomatoes with green chiles (Rotel...mild or hot, your choice)
2 cans roasted green chiles
1 cup long grain white rice (I use Jasmine)


In a large skillet, fry bacon until crispy.
Set aside on paper towels to drain.
To bacon grease, add the butter and melt.
Add the onion and peppers, sauteing until the onions are translucent.
Add the garlic and cook until soft, being careful not to burn.
Add the tomatoes, green chiles, and chicken broth.
Simmer about 5-10 minutes to blend flavors.
Add the rice, cover and simmer approximately 20 minutes, until tender. (May need to add more liquid.)
Before serving, crumble bacon over the top of rice. (Serves 4)

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

A Hit and A Miss

Today, I made my first pot of from-scratch baked beans. 

Reporting this accomplishment produced shock waves among some friends. They knew that I made baked beans. They knew that some family members are in love with my beans. But now my true secret is out. They are not from scratch. (I am sorry...but not really.) My usual creation always starts with a can of Bush's, adds onion, garlic, bacon, ground beef, brown sugar, molasses, dry mustard, and other seasonings along with a variety of pre-cooked beans. I love the calico look of combining butter beans, navy beans, black beans, and pintos all in the same pot...but they really aren't homemade baked beans. (Again, I am sorry...but not really. They ARE good.)

Not even knowing that I wanted real, homemade baked beans, I was intrigued by a recipe on Phoo-d's Blog for Bourbon Bacon Baked Beans. Real, homemade, from-scratch baked beans. The ingredients were collected, and today, I sauteed and simmered and simmered and simmered. The aroma of molasses and bacon wafted through the house during the 6 hours of cooking time. My stomach growled in anticipation of these slow-cooked, from-scratch baked beans. And, when they were finally ready, I was...slightly disappointed.

Don't misunderstand. The recipe is good. It just wasn't quite what I want in baked beans. I loved the smokiness that came from the bourbon and the coffee, but the combination of the pineapple and brown sugar was just too sweet for me. I also like more of a kick to my beans, and only a pinch of hot pepper flakes didn't make my taste buds sing. While I did create a perfectly serviceable pot of from-scratch baked beans, in the future, either this recipe will be tweaked or I will try something new. It wasn't a hit for me.

Anyway...after I had dropped all of the ingredients into the pot for the beans, I realized that I had focused so intently on the fact that I was finally making real baked beans that I didn't have anything planned to serve with them. Duh. Something told me that regardless of how the beans turned out, dinner would be a miss for the Hubs if it was only beans.

An informal poll on Twitter came away with suggestions for corn bread, ribs, and sausages. While I did defrost a couple racks of lamb ribs to be smoked at the farm tomorrow (and served up with the leftover baked beans), it was sausages that won the chance to appear on my plate beside the beans tonight, simply because they could be defrosted easily. However, just because the sausages were a second thought, didn't mean that they got second rate attention. I pulled a sure hit recipe from my files for my kielbasa.

Sausage Sandwiches with Sauteed Pepper and Onion Sauce are a blend of flavors that do make my taste buds sing. How can you go wrong with onions and pepper fried up in olive oil? Generally, I wouldn't have thought to pair red wine and kielbasa, but it works. Really. No disappointments. It isn't a miss with Sausage Sandwiches with Sauteed Pepper and Onion Sauce On My Plate.


3 tablespoons olive oil
2 medium onions, sliced
3 bell peppers, cut into strips
1 teaspoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon paprika
1 pound kielbasa, cooked and cut in half lengthwise and cut crosswise into 6-inch long pieces
1 cup red wine
2/3 cups sliced black olives (kalamata are even better)
4 hoagie buns or other firm rolls, toasted

In a large skillet heat 2 tablespoons olive oil over med high heat. 
Add onions and sauteed until onions are soft. 
Stir in peppers and saute until peppers are lightly browned. 
Add sugar and paprika and stir to coat.
Transfer mixture to a plate but leave drippings in pan. 
Add remaining oil (1 tablespoon) to skillet.
Add sausage and heat until browned and heated through. 
Transfer sausage to plate with onions and peppers. 
Add wine to skillet and heat until reduced by half. 
Return sausage/pepper/onion mixture to skillet and stir in olives. 
Cook until heated through. 
Fill each toasted bun with sausages; top with onions and peppers; spoon juices over.
(Can also make open-faced and top with Provolone cheese and heat under broiler until bubbly and melted.) Serves 4

Sunday, August 15, 2010

The Pits

Is there anything that you have done in the past, learned the hard way that you shouldn't have done it that way, but STILL do it again? No? None of you are slow learners like me? Really? Be thankful that you have the brains that God gave a goose, because some of us aren't that lucky. It's the pits.

Example: I have a wonderful cherry/olive pitter from Pampered Chef (which after just looking on their website doesn't seem to be available any longer...sorry). The only tiny complaint I have about this amazing, little gadget (and I am not a gadget person, as a rule) is that it doesn't have a spatter shield. As the rod pushes through the cherry stem and pops the pit out the bottom of the fruit, juices spatter everywhere. I am left with what could be the crime scene of a million bludgeoned mosquitoes. Red, blood-like droplets cover every surface within spitting distance.

The first time that I pitted cherries, I was wearing a white shirt and had a stack of freshly washed dishes in the sink beside me. It was awesome to have everything covered in sticky, sweet, bright red spatters of cherry juice. Not. *eyeroll* You would think that I would have learned from that mistake, but unfortunately, I have a very hard head. I am left with the remains of a crime scene pretty much every time I pit cherries, and today was no exception. I wanted to make Cherry Studded Brownies and a Fresh Cherry Sauce to serve with them. And, wouldn't you know it...while I put on an old apron to protect the ancient t-shirt that I usually just wear as pajamas, I didn't think twice about everything on the counter around me. Splat. Splatter. Splosh. Slap! Yes, someone should have slapped me over the mess I made. I am the pits.

But, I think the mess was well worth it when this evening my dinner guests and I dug into ramekins of rich, chocolaty brownie studded with sweet cherries. Scoops of vanilla ice cream melted under the warmth of the candied, fragrant drizzle of fresh cherry sauce. Mmmmm. It is not the pits to have Cherry Studded Brownies with Fresh Cherry Sauce On My Plate.



6 ounces semisweet chocolate, chopped
1/2 cup unsalted butter, cubed
2 tbsp cocoa powder
1 cup granulated sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
3 eggs
3/4 cup flour
1/4 tsp salt
30 sweet cherries, pitted

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. 
Spray 6 dessert dishes or ramekins with non stick cooking spray and set them aside on a large baking sheet.
Melt the chocolate and butter, stirring occasionally. (Can use a double boiler, microwave, or as I do, just a really heavy cast iron sauce pan on very low heat.)
In a mixing bowl, combine eggs, sugar, and vanilla until light and fluffy. 
Stir in the cocoa powder. 
Add the melted chocolate mixture.
By hand, stir in the flour and salt until the batter is smooth.
Pour the batter into the prepared dishes, filling 3/4 full. 
Arrange 5 cherries in the top of each baking dish.
Bake for 30-35 minutes until the tops are shiny and a toothpick inserted into the middle doesn't not show wet batter...some moist cake crumbs may cling to the pick.
Cool on rack for 20 minutes. (Serves 6)


1/2 lb fresh cherries, washed & pitted
2 cups water
1/4 to 1/2 cup sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons orange extract

Combine cherries, water, and sugar in saucepan.
Simmer for about 30 minutes or until sauce thickens. Skim occasionally.
Stir in orange extract.
Serve drizzled over ice cream or other desserts.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Roasting

Temperatures are in the high 90s and even boiling into the 100s these days. Humidity levels make us feel like we are breathing water. We are roasting, literally. And, even though I should be focusing on cool, no-cook meals to keep our energy levels up for all of the farm work, yard work, roofing, painting, glazing, and sweating we do each day, I am roasting dinner. 

I know that it isn't very environmentally conscious to turn down the A/C to Brrr! and the oven up to Hot!Hot!Hot!, but I can't help myself. The call of Honey Mustard Pork Tenderloin is too strong. The sweet, but savory glaze baked onto the moist and tender pork and paired with hearty potatoes and almost candied carrots sing a siren song that I can't resist regardless of the summer heat. I am roasting, and Honey Mustard Pork Tenderloin is On My Plate.



2 cups baby carrots
12 baby red potatoes, halved
1/2 cup spicy brown mustard
1/4 cup honey
1 tablespoon mayonnaise
1 tablespoon garlic pepper
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 pork tenderloin (12-16 ounces)

Preheat oven to 425F.
Bring carrots and potatoes to a boil in a large saucepan; cook until just about fork tender, but not soft.
Drain and set aside.
Meanwhile, combine mustard, honey, mayonnaise, oil, and garlic pepper in a bowl.
In a roasting pan, coat the pork with half of the mustard mixture.
Toss the carrots and potatoes with the other half of the mustard mixture and spoon around the pork in pan. 
Roast uncovered for 35-45 minutes, or until meat thermometers reads 160 degrees.
Stir the vegetables once while cooking. (Serves 4)