Ahhhh.... spring. When the flowers are in bloom, the birds are constantly chirping, and it's already 95 degrees in Phoenix.
Thank goodness for air conditioning and great friends.
This month's OKMH box came, like all the others seem to, at the perfect time. Last week was rough for the country, and as the end of the semester picks up, things have gotten even crazier round these parts. Kirsten's completely overstuffed USPS boxes (two of them!) were the perfect pick-me-up for both HRH and me.
Behold, The Goods.
Do you see all of those gorgeous hand-written labels on those jars? The threats of horrible repercussions should The Husband even think about looking at them were being composed the second I unearthed the first beautiful bit of homemade deliciousness.
Not only did Kirsten send me a jar of Wickles "Wannabes" (I've never had the real thing), strawberry jam made from strawberries picked by The Sons, a barbecue glaze that I MIGHT let The Husband use, should he fancy grilling, and some sweet and spicy zucchini pickles that I know I'm either going to have to eat all in one sitting or hoard after labeling it "My Precious," Kirsten also sent a jar of strawberry-rhubarb jam from her friends at Friske's Farm Market. I can hardly stand it - I love love love rhubarb. We had a big plant when I was growing up, and summer wasn't summer without rhubarb pies and rhubarb sauce (delicious over vanilla ice cream) and other rhubarb stuff. The Husband also adores it, so this one is going to get its own safe.
I would have been happy to surround myself with these five new friends, but she had to go further and send me some gorgeous colors - blue and yellow, my two absolute favorites - to action on the mitts and paws ASAP, a so soft (like "it's so fluffy I could die" soft) scarf, also in blue, an "adult juice box" (AKA margarita in a squeeze bottle), and some Max-Freeze for those days when I feel my age after a morning run (we call those days "weekdays).
All of this in one cardboard box, friends.
But apparently, even this wasn't enough. I think that now we have spent over a year getting to know one another, we've come to think of one another's families as our own. Kirsten and HRH had an instant bond when we met up in Michigan last November; Kirsten got to spend some time with a pink-loving girl, and HRH got to get her favorite thing ever: attention. It was a relationship made in heaven. Since then, we've been in discussions for an OKMH betrothal between HRH and one of The Sons.
To sweeten the deal, HRH received her own OKMH-in-training package, containing a bazillion sheets of construction paper (we got through a lot of construction paper in this house), nearly the same number of sparkly Disney princess stickers, a few princess-themed markers, and some sparkly pink nail polish for her own mitts/paws situation.
HRH lost no time Stickering All the Things.
I call this one "More is More is More."
When I say everything got stickered, I mean everything.
The most wonderful aspect of receiving this package every other month isn't the contents thereof; it's the friendship that has evolved and flourished in these last 18 months among the seven of us. We are all so very different people, but we have become close in spite of - or perhaps because of - these differences. We complement - and often compliment - each other well. And there's not a USPS shipping container big enough to hold the joy I have found in making these friends. Thank you, Kirsten, for the lovely gifts and the even lovelier thoughts behind each one of them.
Now, I'm especially excited for you to see what I sent to Beka (Kvetchin' Kitchen) this month. It was my first box of mostly homemade stuff, and I may have had more fun making them than she did unpacking them. Although from the video that Megan sent me, she pretty much lost her (expletive deleted).
But also check out what Beka sent to Megan (Wanna Be a Country Cleaver), although since they live so close to each other, I'm not sure actual shipping was involved.
"Das Leben is bezaubernd; man muß es nur durch die richtige Brille sehen."
~German toast
While most Americans think beer, beer, and more beer when they hear the word Oktoberfest, the tradition actually began with a wedding.
A big wedding.
On October 12, 1810, Crown Prince Ludwig of Bavaria (he would one day become King Ludwig I, grandfather of "Mad" King Ludwig II, who built Schloß Neuschwanstein) married Princess Therese von Sachsen-Hildburghausen. A fan of the Olympic games, Ludwig invited basically everyone (it helps to be the crown prince; budgeting isn't as much of an issue) to partake in the weeklong festivities in front of the city gates, including horse racing. In honor of Princess Therese, the fields that held the festivities were renamed the Theresienwiese (eventually shortened to Wiesn).
The Fest was so popular that it became a yearly event, which evolved into what we know as Oktoberfest.
Of course, Bavaria is home to great beers, thanks in great part of the Reinheinsgebot of 1516 (you can read me wax poetic about the Gebot and other Bavarian Bier wonders here), so it's not a surprise that beer stands soon popped up on the Wiesn.
Today, Oktoberfest begins at the end of September and goes into October, and millions of people flock to Bavaria to join in the celebrations.
But if you can't afford a plane ticket to München, you can always celebrate at home. Just remember to raise a glass to Ludwig and Therese.
Hopefully you've been celebrating our Beer Week festivities, which, yes, was totally scheduled to coincide with the first week of Oktoberfest. You'll have to figure out your own festivities next week. I'd recommend checking out the ponies. Ludwig would like that.
In my homage to Ludwig and Therese, I opted to start at a favorite location that has its own long history in the Tempe area: Four Peaks Brewery. The building that now houses the brewery was once a creamery, and the red brick stands out against the stucco that surrounds it today (check out the website for old and current photos - you'll love them).
If you live in the Valley, you are likely familiar with the two beers that Four Peaks bottles and has made available in stores: 8th Street Ale, an English brown ale, and Kilt Lifter, their best-selling Scottish style ale that is intended to be similar to those ales brewed in Edinburgh. In fact, Kilt Lifter is so popular that the October issue of Phoenix Magazine allows readers a tour of the brewing process.
But while I adore Kilt Lifter - so much so that I managed to ship Megan an entire six-pack a few months ago - when I go to Four Peaks, there is only one beer for me: the Arizona Peach Ale.
I first experienced it when The Husband and I went to Teakwoods for lunch a few months ago. Teakwoods is one of the local restaurants that serves Arizona Peach Ale on tap, and I was surprised that The Husband ordered it, as he doesn't tend to enjoy "fruity" beers.
"It's not really fruity," he said. "Here. Take a sip."
Fateful words.
I know, sexy pic.
Try not to be jealous.
Before you take a big, fat gulp like you see me doing here, you need to take a moment and bring the beer up to your nose to take in the aroma. Immediately, you'll be transported from wherever you are to a peach orchard. It's ridiculous, really. Fresh Arizona peaches. In your beer. It's almost mesmerizing. You get the flowery sweetness that is identical to the perfume of a freshly plucked peach. But the beer is anything but sweet. While you can taste the peach on the back end, the beer is a light, clean, and refreshing ale that is perfect for the Arizona heat. The peach just finishes each sip off so smoothly, and perhaps the only aspect of "sweet" that there might be is that there is no bitterness from beginning to end. There is no syrupy aftertaste or heaviness in the fruitiness of this Arizona Peach Ale. It's just as perfectly accessorized as Coco Chanel.
So in the last few weeks, I have found almost every excuse possible to trek over to Tempe in order to have a dinner date or a "late lunch" at Four Peaks.
Because the beer is good, and so is the food. Get the salmon BLT. You're welcome.
While the brewery is in the heart of Tempe, right by ASU, you'd think that it would be a crowded, college hangout. But in all actuality, there are only a handful of students that you might see; the regular crowd will include families and professionals, all competing for a parking spot close to the front door. There is room for young kids, as long as they don't sit at the bar, so the atmosphere is welcoming for anyone who walks in.
I love the industrial-red brick combo on the inside.
Sorry, though, that all my patio snaps were too dark to use;
it's quite lovely out there.
Unfortunately, until The Husband catches on to my hints about the growler of Arizona Peach that I think should live in our fridge and/or the brewery decides that I need to have six-packs available to me at my local grocery store, I have to get my fix at Four Peaks (I know - first world problem right here). In the meantime, I'll be buying that six-pack of Kilt Lifter. And using it in All The Things.
Like a German-style spicy mustard.
And ale-soaked sweet potato oven fries. Served with said spicy mustard and bratwurst. Because Ludwig and Therese would have wanted it that way.
And, because no course of a meal should ever be without beer, a maple-ale frozen custard for dessert.
Let's look a little more closely, shall we?
Basically, when we planned Beer Week, I had originally only intended to rave about Four Peaks and their Arizona Peach ale, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to take the opportunity to play around with the beer, even if it wasn't the beer I go to Four Peaks to drink.
Having had great luck (and tons of positive feedback) with the Guinness mustard I made for St. Patrick's Day (a.k.a. The Great Brisket Freakout of 2012), I figured that using Kilt Lifter in a mustard would be a cinch, although I wanted something a little more spicy and closer to the mustards that I loved when I lived in Regensburg as a student. Good thing I found this recipe from Serious Eats to play around with and tweak thus:
Spicy German-Style Kilt Lifter Ale Mustard
(adapted from Serious Eats)
1/3 cup each yellow and brown mustard seeds (I've found that I prefer the 50-50 combo of the two different seeds over having a greater percent of the yellow seeds)
1/2 cup organic, unfiltered apple cider vinegar (it should have "the mother" in it, although try not to use it in the mustard)
1 cup Kilt Lifter, divided into 1/2-cup measurements
3 Tablespoons brown sugar
2 Tablespoons maple syrup
1 teaspoon Kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon of turmeric (this is what gives mustard its beautiful yellow color)
1/8 teaspoon allspice
Drink any remaining Kilt Lifter once you've measured out the cup needed in the recipe.
Combine the mustard seeds, the vinegar, and 1/2 cup of the ale; refrigerate at least overnight (or, until you have a free second).
Combine the remaining 1/2 cup of the ale and all other ingredients in a small saucepan and heat over medium heat until just boiling. Remove from heat and cool slightly (I would recommend doing this about 30 minutes before you plan to mix everything together).
In a blender, combine the mustard seeds and their liquid with the liquid from the saucepan. Puree until smooth, although the brown seeds will remain solid. Transfer to a pretty jar and refrigerate until you are ready to slather it over a properly made bratwurst (read: not national chain) or dunk some pommes frites into it.
And speaking of pommes frites...
All you have to do here is cut up some sweet potatoes (or any potatoes, I guess), soak them in Kilt Lifter for 15-20 minutes (you may have to toss it a few times), drain them, toss them in olive oil and seasoning, and then cook on a VERY well-oiled cookie sheet, into a 425° oven for 30-40 minutes, tossing at least once. If you are using sweet potatoes, make sure that, unlike me, you are careful not to let them burn. Or stick to the cookie sheet (my definition of "very" well oiled sheet was insufficient).
As a note, since I was using sweet potatoes, I thought we'd need a salty, savory combo, so my seasoning of choice was Bacon Salt, and I'd recommend that you do the same.
The above, of course, are best served with bratwurst, freshly grilled and topped with the mustard, caramelized onions, sauerkraut, and leek relish, and eaten while worshipping at the shrine of college football.
Go, Devils!
But as much as I love College GameDay and cheering on my beloved Devils while horking down ridiculous amounts of pub grub and washing it down with a favorite local beer (I mean, HONESTLY, what compares to that), this week, the star was the dessert.
As you might have figured out, I love maple syrup. If you hadn't, now you know. So of course I needed to find an ice cream recipe that combined maple and beer.
It turns out that I am not the first person to think that this is The Best Idea For Ice Cream Ever. Not like I was surprised. At first, I found a gingerbread ice cream recipe that I figured I could use, swapping the maple syrup for the molasses and omitting ALL the spices, but then I stumbled across this fabulous recipe for Peak Organic Maple Oat Ale Walnut ice cream over at Drink Craft Beer (bookmarked) that I knew was Perfect.
Of course, I used Kilt Lifter instead of the Peak Organic, so at first, I was a little nervous. A Scottish style ale is totally different than an ale made with oats and maple syrup, and who knew if it would work in the same way?
Well, it did.
The reduction of the Kilt Lifter made me even more nervous, as the beer has a smoky aspect to it, which really came out when it was reduced from 22 ounces to 1/2 cup. I mean, wow. But what also came out was an almost coffee-like bitterness that was fantastic, I mean FREAKING FANTASTIC when combined with the sweet creaminess of this recipe.
Which, I should point out, is actually a frozen custard recipe, due to the addition of the egg yolks and the higher percentage of fat (thanks to the cream and half-and-half called for in the recipe instead of cream and milk).
OK, so basically, what you need to know is this: the Kilt Lifter really made this recipe. I'm sure it would have been really good without the beer. But it was really, really, REALLY good WITH the beer. Since it was a creamier custard, and the maple syrup so sweet, the coffee-like bitterness of the ale reduction made a wonderful finish to each bite. I think that without the beer, it honestly would have been too cloying. With the beer, it was incredible.
Since we had plans to go to a dinner party at the house of some friends, I opted to take the custard as part of the dessert offering.
Now, aside from the fact that I had to share with several other people, this was a fabulous idea, as the other half of the dessert was a homemade tiramisu. And since tiramisu is made with espresso, it was a slam-bam knockout combination.
I'm just glad that there was leftover custard that I was able to bring home and continue to sneak by the spoonful straight from the freezer.
All right, Four Peaks. You already serve your delicious stoutamisu, made with your Oatmeal Stout. Now I have the perfect accompaniment for it. You're welcome.
(Now, could you please sell Arizona Peach Ale in bottles or cans? Pretty please?)
So now... in case you missed any of the wonderful Beer Week posts, please make sure you check them out. Do it for Ludwig and Therese.
Kirsten (Comfortably Domestic) kicked off the week with an amazing biography of a friend of hers who just happens to be a home brewer taking that passion and turning it into a livelihood. I'm making The Husband read this one carefully.
Jeanne (Inside NanaBread's Head) offered an incredible dark chocolate espresso stout cake topped with a caramel and Kahlua whipped cream (I KNOW, RIGHT?????)
Madeline (Munching in the Mitten), my former student, made a pumpkin beer bread, perfect for those crisp autumn days that we don't get here in Arizona.
Lauren (Climbing Grier Mountain) made a pale ale shrimp po' boy that may actually convince my husband to move to Denver in order to get closer to it.
Beka (Kvetchin' Kitchen), who is the newest addition to our reindeer games, jumped right in with a review of the Outlander brewery, which I MUST check out when I'm in Seattle next.
Megan (Wanne Be a Country Cleaver), who knows the sweet, sweet taste of Kilt Lifter already, made my German heart go pitter pat with her schnitzel and dumplings.
Carrie (Bakeaholic Mama) is helping finish off Beer Week tomorrow by opting to focus on a cider (an early American staple) recipe with her Woodchuck sweet potato bisque.
And Kirsten is back tomorrow too, wrapping up the week with a black and tan brownie that my own black and tan girl would kill to get her grubby paws on if chocolate weren't so deadly to dogs.
And lastly, because we can't celebrate a wedding without music, fill your glass one last time and get down to my favorite German beer song (you can find the lyrics here if you want to sing along, which I know you do). Prost!
And one more thing - please don't forget the Life For Lily Virtual Run next Friday through Sunday. Your steps (you don't have to run - don't worry!) can make the biggest difference for a little girl fighting something harder than any of us can ever imagine. So find your favorite kicks, sign up, and make a donation. Your heart will never regret any of it.
You always know when certain groups of people are good friends. They have inside jokes, finish each others' sentences, and offer support regardless of the time of day.
In the case of this group of blogging friends, it's clear that we also are almost too tuned in to each other's style and food tastes, and we've been discussing how we all really need a compound or at least addresses on the same street, whereby we can share recipes and cooking duties from a closer locale. I'm pretty sure the Girls' Nights Out would have to be classified as Epic, too.
Clockwise, from top left:
Mads, Kirsten, Megan, Kat, me, Jeanne -
don't we look like we could take a town by storm?
Damn, we're a good looking bunch of broads.
But until our actual One Kitchen can be a reality, we've been taking turns sending one another gift boxes. This is our second month of doing it, and I'm quite certain that none of us can decide whether we prefer buying the gifts or receiving them, screaming like Ellen's audience when they had to get a gift rather than see Josh Duhamel take his pants off (this actually applies to both sides of the gift-giving; I may have made a scene at the local bookstore when I found Something Perfect for Kat where I wasn't looking this month).
I confess that I had a few ideas for Kat's gift box, but I really felt like I was going to let The Shopping Gods guide me, and guide me they did. To find out what I sent her, make sure to head over to Tenaciously Yours, at some point today.
I was the lucky recipient of Kirsten's box, and I was all a-twitter to see what my girl from the 45th parallel was going to ship out. Having lived in Michigan as well, I could only imagine the bounty to which Kirsten is privy year round. But still I was not prepared for the Awesomeness in a Box that arrived a few Mondays ago.
When Kirsten tweeted that my box would arrive Monday, that basically meant that I wouldn't be able to get any work done once the mail truck came. Fortunately for work, the truck came later than it usually does, so I was able to make the most of my day. But once our intrepid United States Postal worker rolled away, HRH and I ran across the street, obtained our little package, and it was on. Clearly this called for a refreshing beverage.
Nothing finer than a bottle of Shiner.
I plunked HRH down in her booster seat with a snack as I tried to carefully open rather than rip with reckless abandon (setting a good example for patience or some parent thing like that).
I knew that this message written on the side of the package was, in fact, The Truth.
I made out like a BANDIT.
Probably The Best Thing Inside was actually the card. It's going to become my motto the next time I make macaroni and cheese and then hear HRH tell me she doesn't like macaroni and cheese (there is only one explanation for her not liking the M&C - CHANGELING!!!!!).
Would that my fridge were so full.
I'll be honest. The cherries were dispatched of in short order. Michigan cherries are worth horking down straight from the bag. But they are not worth sharing when you really don't want to. Which I didn't. If you've ever had Michigan cherries, you'll understand.
I allowed myself 24 hours to eat the chocolate, which is about the limits of my will power. First of all, hello, Star Wars fan - Dagoba! ("Luke, you will go the Dagoba system.") And how dark is that chocolate? You know that dark chocolate has health benefits, right? Logic says that the darker the chocolate, then, the better it is for you. This, clearly, is extremely healthy. Doctors should start prescribing this stuff like they're on Diagon Alley. Yeah, that was a Harry Potter reference right after a Star Wars one. Try not to be jealous of how cool I am. Can you imagine how impressed my students are?
I did allow The Husband to have some of the lemon ginger.
Because I'm nice like that.
I'll also be a nice wife and let The Husband in on the tea situation. His allergies are worse than mine (much, MUCH worse), so he likes to drink tea sometimes, and this will certainly clear his sinuses. Just make sure the Wife of the Year Committee knows of my benevolence, OK?
I am absolutely wild about sweetening my foods with honey, and Michigan honey beats Costco honey any day of the week. With steel cut oats and peanut butter, it's a Winner. The Husband has his beady little eyes on this bottle, so I may have to hide it.
The relish, though, I had to text The Husband about: "We need to have brats. Soon." I've never had ramps, and I figured that having them over grilled bratwursts would be The Perfect Way to try them out. Even if it meant sharing with the man who grilled the brats for me. What can I say - I'm a giver.
Turns out I'm pretty smart. The relish was sweet and kind of garlicky (that's the ramps) but at the same time had a nice little kick, thanks to the chile flakes in the mix. The Husband said he would have loved it to be a bit spicier (we're big fans of The Spicy here), but overall we both loved the relish. I am thinking of getting more brats this weekend to have it again. I might be obsessed.
It says "wild leek" but that means
wild ramps. Yum.
But, if my taste buds were not enough, Kirsten must know that I needed something to girl-i-fy myself, since most of what I buy falls under one of three categories: 1) groceries/things for the house, 2) things for HRH, 3) running gear - none of these really help when The Husband and I have a rare date night. So she went above and beyond with this beautiful necklace and earrings, which are not only beautiful, but they help poverty-stricken people make a living in other parts of the world. 11/10 situation if I've ever seen one. I wore them the other night to a volunteer meeting, and I cant wait to doll myself up once again.
LOVE the beadwork.
And, since I could adjust the length, it is perfect
for my "very small" (according to the doctor) neck.
Thanks so much, Kirsten! You rock!
This project has been so much fun to get to know my bloggie sisters better, even though it's clear that we all have a connection regardless of the actual miles between us. The Internet really has taken down so many barriers; without it, I would not have had the opportunity to meet these five wonderful women (as well as so many other great bloggers and Twitter-ers, etc.).
Make sure that you check out what everyone else got (and notice how crazy-basically-eerie-all-the-same-practically-Miss-Cleo we are to one another!):
Once you do that, it's time for you to round of some of your best buddies and create a gift-giving schedule that will be as fun as ours has been You won't regret it!
At this time next week, I will have finished my first half marathon. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit nervous. Hopefully I'll be able to keep myself busy in order to make sure I don't spend an evening absolutely freaking out.
In the countdown to the big day, I've decided to avoid meat as much as possible. I, of course, haven't mentioned that to The Husband yet, and he came home from picking up our vegetables bearing not only said veggies but also some cedar planks and salmon, so I suppose I'll have to choke that down. Darn.
At the same time, my desire for carbs has taken over my thoughts about food, and most other thoughts as well (which is actually a good thing, since I'm thinking about bread instead of the new running shirt that I decided that I "need" to get before the race). I gave serious consideration last night to calling Oregano's and ordering eight loaves of garlic bread and a side of their "Bollo Pasta." To go. I mean, you don't think I'd eat all that bread in public where people would judge me, do you? That's an in-the-car-in-a-deserted-parking-lot kind of activity.
Fortunately, I held myself back, and my quest for carb-y goodness led me to have what, at the time, I determined to be absolute genius - tofu-angel hair stir fry in peanut sauce.
OK, that kind of sounds weird, but we don't have any udon or other appropriate noodles. However, we did have two bok choys in the fridge needing to be used in a fairly timely manner, so there you have it.
While rummaging around the fridge (which totally needs to be reorganized and wiped down, but I'm ignoring that for now), I came across a jar of Thai peanut sauce, and I took it out, thinking that I'd use it for the stir fry sauce.
My favorite sandwich has to be the bacon-lettuce-tomato. It's true that the salty bacon and sweet acidity of the tomato work so well together.
I am often disappointed by BLTs in restaurants - the bacon is rubbery, the lettuce wilted, or the bread soggy. But at home, I can make everything to my specifications.
Best BLT Ever
Two slices (per person) of whole wheat bread made with my friend Christie's recipe
As many rashers of bacon from The Pork Shop that you think you can fit in your mouth
Thickly sliced heirloom tomato (from my mother-in-law's garden)
The bread must be toasted completely (Scott always says that he likes his toast toasty - it needs to be crispy and crunchy all the way through), and the bacon needs to be as crisp as possible. The lettuce needs to be washed and then thoroughly dried.
I hate mayonnaise. It's gross - literally gives me the dry heaves. But thanks to a Facebook post from Hounds in the Kitchen, I mustered up the courage to try a recipe from my favorite, David Lebovitz. Now I understand why the French dunk their Pommes Frites in the stuff.
We didn't have any Pommes Frites, but we had a few CSA carrots and some crackers with herb cream cheese on the side, and it was a great lunch for a great day.
As I was hunched in front of the fridge hiding from my daughter this evening, pouring chocolate syrup over the spoonful of peanut butter, I noticed that we were almost out. SITUATION CRITICAL!
We love peanut butter in this house. It is always in stock, and the dog has her own jar that is used solely for Kong® stuffing purposes when we leave the house. It is not good to be out of peanut butter.
Thankfully, I didn't have to worry about an outage for long - last month, I read how easy it was to make peanut butter at one of my favorite blogs, Kath Eats. And apparently I thought ahead, as I decided to buy a boatload of peanuts a few weeks ago, just for this project.
whir, whir, whir...
Thus, after Her Royal Highness was tucked snugly into her bed, I took Julia (my Cuisinart®) out of the cupboard and got her ready to go.
Uh, a little note - I would not recommend using Spanish peanuts. There isn't much difference between these peanuts and what might be labeled as dry roasted peanuts, but they have the skins on. I am not sure how the skins would affect the taste and/or texture of the finished PB, but I didn't want to find out, so I relieved those little guys of their jackets.
I got a little nervous as the crushed peanuts started bunching up on one side, but I persevered, stopping every few minutes to scrape everything down and to even out the mixture. Finally (seriously, it was like forever), the peanuts went from crushed mess to smooth, creamy yumminess. I added kosher salt and my homemade vanilla extract, gave Julia another spin, and had... peanut butter (read those last two words in an awed whisper).
I couldn't wait - I threw a few slices of the bread I made this weekend into the toaster and waited impatiently to slather them up (isn't slather the most lovely word) and hork them down.
The result - definitely doing this again. And again. And again.
I actually shipped off some of my precious, precious lemons (and grapefruit) to three of my friends earlier this week, so I am running low and may need to go steal some more off Danielle's tree (pretty sure she'll let me). I'm looking forward to finding out what they make!
Last night, I decided to preserve some of the lemons I have left. Preserving lemons is pretty simple. The secret ingredient is salt. No, really - you take kosher (or sea) salt and lemons that have been scrubbed clean, and stick them in a sterilized jar... voilà! Preserved lemons!
OK, there is a bit of a process. First, cover the bottom of the jar (I would not recommend pint jars like I used - still too small) with salt.
Helloooooo, in there!
Then, take your lemon and cut off the stem and the little bump/nub at the other end. Slice them nearly in half; turn 90 degrees and repeat; what you'll have a lemon that is almost cut into quarters, but it's still all attached. Do this to all your lemons (duh).
Confession - I did accidentally slice all the way through two of my lemons. I totally squeezed them together and pretended I didn't and then shoved them into a jar where there wasn't enough room to tell the difference anyway.
Hiiiiii-yaaaaaaa!
(Miss Piggy impersonation)
Pack a bunch of salt into the lemon - a tablespoonish amount appears to be the norm for recipes you'll find online.
Once finished, shove the lemon into the jar and repeat the process, adding a layer of the salt between each layer of lemon. You may have to really truly shove at the end to get everything in. End with a final layer of salt.
Clearly that lemon was too big.
Got it in there anyway, like the ship in a bottle.
Now, in Morocco, different spices are added, and I would love to add a little cinnamon and whatnot into some jars next time (read: when I can get some bigger jars and a few more lemons) to see what flavors I end up with.
Regardless of the different spices that may or may not be added to the jar before sealing, once the jars are sealed, they can be left on the counter (where you can't forget them) for two or three days. Every time you go into the kitchen, give the jars a little shake. This helps spread around the salt AND get those juices flowing (it's helpful to have juicy lemons - look for lemons that are heavy for their size; that means they have a lot of juice - same goes for any citrus).
Mmmmm.... briny....
After three days, the lemons should be completely submerged in their juice. If not, add more from another jar or another lemon that has been relieved of its zest for another tasty endeavor. Then, throw them in the back of the fridge, where they need to "age" at least three weeks before using.
I am not completely certain what I will use these lemons in, but I'm thinking a salad would be nice as well as perhaps a fruited couscous or even add an accompaniment to fish... as well as perhaps snacking on them right out of the jar (once properly rinsed, of course).
I'm also thinking about what I could do with the brine. It will be more acidic than your run of the mill brine made with water, but I would hate to just pour it down the drain. At first I thought of having a salty dog party, but those are with grapefruit, and THOSE certainly won't fit into pint jars!
Any suggestions???
Seriously, I think one of the best things about working with lemons is their cheery color.
I would love seeing these on my shelves were I living in the frozen North.
Finally, I was successful in getting good-tasting marmalade to set!
Mostly.
It's still a little more liquid than I'd like it to be, but after a taste test (on some freshly baked bread), I determined that this batch - #3 of lemon, #4 overall - is going to count as real lemon marmalade and NOT a failed attempt.
Of course, since we still have lemons, I'll be tweaking things in a fifth go around. But, basically, I used this recipe as my starting point, modifying from what I've learned in previous attempts:
Instead of letting the lemons and water sit overnight, I had them sit for four nights (it was supposed to be three, but I went out with a friend last night), changing the water each night. This is in a similar vein to what one would do in order to candy lemon peel, although I didn't boil the lemons.
I added an extra cup of sugar to the ratio; I had 8 cups of the lemon-water combo, so I had nine cups of sugar.
The recipe didn't call to have a cheesecloth with the piths and seeds, but I did include this in order to increase the amount of pectin; this was mostly due to my terror of yet another batch not setting up.
Next time, I need to cut the lemons into fourths rather than half, as the rinds were a little long. But overall, I am extremely pleased with the outcome; I have never been a fan of marmalade, but right now, I am trying to decide how many half-pint jars I can justify keeping.
Freshly baked bread slathered with butter and marmalade:
I can't really think of a better dessert.
Left to right:
lemon marmalade,
grapefruit syrup,
rhubarb lemon chile preserve
So far, I've been able to make the lemon marmalade, the grapefruit marmalade-come-syrup, and a rhubarb lemon chile preserve that is going to be awesome with cheese and crackers. I also started the process of making limoncello, which will net the results in about three more months, and I tried to make that Shaker lemon pie; I would be willing to give that a second go. I still have plans to make lemon curd with scones and some preserved lemons. And what about the grapefruit? I'm thinking candied peels with the remains from some tasty breakfast sides.
You might think that I'm cheating on the title so I don't have to give a recipe. But the joke's on you! This post is about GRAPEFRUIT!
Yep, I decided to try grapefruit marmalade. Even tart grapefruit is sweeter than lemons, right? So it can't be that hard to screw up, right?
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! I found what I thought would be a pretty fail-safe recipe (clearly, I am Einstein's definition of insanity, right?). The most difficult part of it, really, was removing the pith. Grapefruits have a s*** ton of pith, by the way, in case you were curious, and it took a good long time to scrape it all off but keep the peels in tact.
The biggest difference between a marmalade and a jam (yes, I totally looked it up) is that marmalades don't use an "outside" gelling agent (like Sure-Jell®). All the pectin is found in the fruit; marmalades generally use citrus, and in fact the pectin that is used to make store-bought pectins generally comes from a type of lime (fun fact of the day, right?).
Thanks to our limoncello making party, I had an entire gallon sized zip top bag filled with pithy lemon rinds, so I tossed those into a cheesecloth bag while my concoction of grapefruit, grapefruit juice, grapefruit peel, water, and sugar boiled away to ensure a lovely spread buddy for my peanut butter.
After the allotted 30 or so minutes, I started gel testing with the saucers I had frozen the night before (when I started the process - it would seem that most marmalades are a multi-day project).
What a gorgeous color, though
First saucer - runny.
Second saucer - runny. I put the first saucer back in, just in case I needed it.
Third saucer - runny. I put the second saucer back in the freezer, too.
Fourth saucer that was really the first saucer used again - runny.
Fifth... second saucer - runny.
I was now at over 45 minutes AND, of course, HRH decided to take a really short nap (even though she was sick and needed a good long sleep), so I did what I could, but at some point, I had to jar this stuff.
So I did, hoping against hope that, like gravy, it would "thicken as it cooled."
No dice.
For the count, that would be three marmalade batches that turned out less than expected.
However, at least I got the taste down on this one. I think. I mean, basically, what I have is... grapefruit syrup.
Not bad with over vanilla
with some cashews, too
So I did what any self-respecting wannabe home chef who has failed at all marmalade attempts would do: I had ice cream.
I think it's good, but I'm not sure how it's SUPPOSED to taste.
Fortunately, I was able to see our friend Ellen for coffee this morning, and I gave her a jar. I did tell her that I wasn't totally certain of it's tastiness factor and to be honest with me (and to pour it down the sink if it really is flat terrible).
I have a few more friends who, I hope, will be willing guinea pigs for this. Who knows - perhaps this is going to be the best waffle topping since peanut butter and maple syrup.
But I have another batch of lemons waiting to try their turn even as I type this.
When I was growing up, my parents often had dinner parties, but even when they had one extra person over for dinner, my dad delighted in making a special occasion out of the meal.
One of the dishes that I remember most vividly is lemon butt chicken. Yes, I probably remember it because of the name. It's a simple roasted chicken with lemons as the main accent, but for its simplicity, it can still wow an audience and at the same time be the epitome of comfort.
My dad generally cooked like I do - without following a set recipe. I can't totally be certain if he followed the same procedure each time he and my mom made this dish. So, instead of asking my mom what they did, I just went with what seemed right at the time. There are MANY online recipes for a roasted chicken, some with low heat and some with extraordinarily high heat. The important thing is to make sure the chicken is properly cooked through - not medium rare, as Scott likes to joke.
with a side of radish-turnip latkes
Lemon Butt Chicken
One whole roasting chicken (the fresher, more local, the better)
Two lemons, one zested
Thyme, chopped or leaves separated from stems
Kosher salt
Freshly cracked black pepper
1/2 onion, roughly chopped
1/2 stick butter (or compound butter - see below), softened
Preheat the oven to 425.
Make sure there isn't that gross bag of stuff inside the chicken's cavity. If there is, feed it to the dog. If there isn't, make sure the dog gets something else for dinner.
Rinse chicken, inside and out, and pat dry with paper towels.
Zest mixture
Combine the zest, thyme, salt, and pepper and rub the cavity of the chicken with the zest mixture. You can also rub the skin of the chicken with any leftover mixture.
Apply the butter to the breast of the chicken underneath the skin. You may need to cut the skin a little bit. If you have leftover butter, you can place it inside the cavity or between the thigh and drumstick or the wings.
Stuff the cavity of the chicken with the onion and lemon.
Place any leftover onion and lemon into a roasting pan and place chicken on top (I put my chicken on a rack in the pan, but I still throw these in - the onions become GREAT snacking as the chicken rests).
The end result
Roast for approximately 90 minutes. The chicken MUST reach an internal temperature of 180 when a thermometer is inserted between the thigh and the drumstick (I highly recommend a digital thermometer).
Remove from oven and let rest 10 minutes.
Carve and serve immediately.
Before mixing
Thyme Compound Butter
1 stick butter (I prefer unsalted), softened
Thyme (to taste)
Mix the thyme and butter until the thyme is evenly distributed. Spoon into sheet of waxed paper and roll into a log. Refrigerate until needed; it can also be frozen when proper methods are used.
Of course, you could do this with any flavoring agent. I will be making dill butter tomorrow with all the dill that we received this week. And I should probably make a garlic butter to have on hand just in case.
The lemon and the butter keep the chicken incredibly juicy. What is great for our family, right now, at least, is that we can make two meals of this chicken. I like dark meat, so I had a thigh and drumstick, and Scott had a breast. The other half was saved, and the carcass will become the base for yet another delicious stock.
I wasn't able to eat chicken when I was pregnant. I managed to have some fried stuff once (yeah, I know - super healthy, right?), but the thought of having roasted chicken would have turned me green. I even tried to buy Scott some chicken at the store (he loves chicken, and even on my best day, I'm lukewarm on it), and I almost passed out over my cart trying to purchase it. That I can roast a chicken AND have the desire to is, to me, a pretty big step, although I am not sure I am keen to do it again any time soon.
The weekend isn't over yet, and I have several new items on my culinary wish list, so hopefully I can squeeze a few more in!
After my two failed attempts at the lemon marmalade, I thought I should give it a rest for a few days to regroup and find a recipe that might be more conducive to me (i.e., idiot-proof).
I needed something simple to get me through this week, and I noted in my last post that I decided to make my own mustard instead of turning the car around to get a jar at the store.
I wanted a basic mustard recipe, and no matter where I looked, a basic recipe seems to be the same anywhere.
Basic Mustard
equal parts water and vinegar (preferably apply cider vinegar, but I suppose most would do the trick)
another equal part mustard seeds (so I had a 1/2 cup seeds, 1/2 cup water, and 1/2 cup vinegar)
Combine these in a bowl and let them sit at room temperature 24-48 hours.
Pretty little seeds enjoying a nice, relaxing soak
After the allotted time has passed, puree the seed-vinegar mixture.
Now, I started out with our "baby" Cuisinart®, but the amount proved just a teeny bit too much, so I switched to the blender, a decision with which I was quite happy.
Once pureed, add spices/herbs/aromatics of your choosing.
I opted for some salt, freshly ground black pepper, cumin, and oregano. I also added capers and some minced garlic. No, I didn't measure, so I can't tell you the ratios. Basically, I added whatever I felt was right.
The finished product is not the most photogenic thing I've ever made, but you know, beauty is only skin deep, and this was rather lovely in its own right.
This made about 3/4 pint, which should last just long enough. When I tasted it, the mustard had quite the zing. This will mellow in the course of the next few days, but if it turns out to be too mild, I'll just throw in some hot sauce or something (I don't think I'll need to do that).
You know what this would really taste good on? Homemade pastrami.
I was excited to receive dill this week in our CSA share, although that excitement quickly waned when I realized I really have no idea what to do with dill except to make tartar sauce or as a garnish over salmon.
I confess that I do enjoy a well-made tartar sauce (lots of pickles, lots of dill), but making it is beyond my abilities; I can't make anything with mayonnaise as the main ingredient. It honestly makes my gag reflex step into overtime. So tartar sauce is out (plus, then I'd have to make fish and chips, and that's just too much work).
And we don't have any salmon. I know I can go out and get some, but we are in Arizona, not known for its consistently great seafood selections.
The only other use for dill, in my mind was pickles.
As luck would have it, we had an Armenian cucumber in the fridge; it was in our share last week, so I found this refrigerator pickles recipe by Martha Stewart. I have no idea what a kirby cucumber is, but I figured that the Armenian one would be fine.
I knew that wouldn't use all the dill, and we also had a TON of okra (I'm so not tired of it yet, but hubby is, it seems), so I figured that I could pickle those, too. So, I found this pickled okra recipe from my Food Network hero, Alton Brown. Since this was an actual canning recipe, I sliced and salted my cukes as per instructions and then ran to the store for more canning lids and some dill seed.
But then, after I started the process of chopping the garlic and adding it to the pot full of vinegar, aforementioned dill seed, and mustard seed, it occurred to me that we had just received a lovely bunch of jalapeño chiles, courtesy of my mother-in-law's garden (also home to what must be the world's largest basil plant). So, I decided to change the plan and use, instead of dear Alton's recipe, one from Emeril - BAM!
I have to say, the smell of the brine solution cooking was enough to clear my sinuses. But it was quite lovely to see the mixture come to a boil anyway.
I am really, really, REALLY hoping that we get more garlic in our share next week. We have gone through all of it, and I had to actually cut back on how much the okra recipe called for, which was disappointing. Pickled garlic is something that I fancy a great deal; garlic is my favorite olive stuffing, too, so I'll be sure to be spearing the chunks out of the jar along with the pickles.
When all was said and done, I had two jars of the pickle chips and four jars of the okra. Because we were warned that the chiles were pretty hot, I was convinced to only put one of each in TWO of the okra jars. That way, if those jars end up melting our mouths, we can salvage the other two (at least that's the idea).
Sadly, I am not able to report on the taste of either batch. While the pickle pickles are only fridge pickles, the recipe still instructed me to wait a week before digging in, and I don't want to be disappointed in any lack of flavor. I'm counting down the days until I can crack open one of those jars. The okra, on the other hand, is going to take a month to mature, so that might just be a Christmas "surprise" for us.
No matter what, I'm pretty stoked - with the exception of the two seeds in each recipe, all of the plant-based ingredients came from our CSA. While I'm certainly no woman of the 1800s, canning and preserving because it's a way of life, I am making use of the foods that are available to me and making sure that I am not wasting them. And that's the important thing. In this season of gluttonous excess, the notion of wasting food when others have none is utterly repugnant to me, and if spending an afternoon smelling of vinegar and dill can help keep me from taking what I have for granted and thus focus on how I can ensure that fewer do go hungry, then it's paid for that time tenfold.
