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)