Gettin' Siggi With It

I have been wanting to try Siggi's skyr for a good while now.  I know that there is a huge buzz about plain Greek yogurt being one of those "top twenty" or "top thirty" healthy foods that one absolutely must have in the house, but after having seen an episode of Bizarre Foods on the Travel Channel on which Andrew Zimmern watches/helps an Icelandic family make skyr, I have been intrigued.
Skyr is a Icelandic yogurt, but it's not anything like your regular supermarket brands.  It is THICK, more like a custard than a yogurt.  In fact, according to the label and website, one container of Siggi's requires three times the amount of milk found in those supermarket yogurt containers.  Wow!
Thus, this little container is packed with protein  that will help keep a person full long after the Dannon® has worn off.
But that's not all.  Some other reasons that Siggi's is way different than other yogurts:

• The milk comes from grass-fed cows.
• There is nothing artificial in it.
• The flavored varieties are sweetened with agave nectar, not sugar or (worse) HFCS
• There are nearly no ingredients - in the plain, three (I'm lumping the five cultures together) - others, up to six.  No multi-syllabic, unpronounceable chemicals.

I loved this - especially the use
of the word dreadful!

All right, but how does it taste?
I bought two containers, as I feel like anything worth tasting needs to be tried twice.  Sprouts had three flavors and the plain.  As much as I felt like I ought to buy the plain (the traditional Icelandic skyr), I was a little nervous and opted instead for the blueberry and the pomegranate and passion fruit instead.
I tried the blueberry last night.  I wasn't sold.  I hate to say it, but the taste reminded me a little too closely of being spit up on by HRH when she was still nursing (especially that one Mothers' Day when we had to take her to Urgent Care to make it stop).  It didn't smell like that in the container - quite the contrary, it smelled like... clean milk.  I can't say that I wasn't disappointed - I was kind of hoping for a gustatory epiphany or something - but I knew I had to give it another try.

THICK!!!!!

Breakfast is, of course, perfect for yogurt consumption, so I didn't wait long to try the pomegranate and passion fruit.  Perhaps it was the different flavoring or perhaps just a different batch, but this time, I got it.  There was a mere hint of passion fruit - not even enough to color it, really - that complemented the thick, custard-like skyr.

Now, let's take a moment and compare Siggi's to the Dannon® company's Activia®.  I'm taking these ingredient lists straight from the ingredient labels.

Ingredients for Siggi's Pomegranate & Passion Fruit Skyr:

• Pasteurized Skim Milk
• Agave Nectar
• Passion Fruit
• Pomegranate
• Live Active Cultures*
• Vegetable Rennet

*Live Cultures: B. Lactis, L. Acidophilus, L. Delbrueckii Subsp. Bulgaricus, L. Delbrueckii Subsp. Lactis, S. Thermophilus

Ingredients for Dannon® Vanilla Activia®

• Cultured Grade A Reduced Fat Milk*
• Fructose Syrup
• Sugar
• (contains less than 1% of the following)
• Fructose
• Whey Protein Concentrate
• Corn Starch
• Modified Corn Starch
• Kosher Geletin
• Natural Vanilla Flavor
• Carmine ("for color")
• Sodium Citrate
• Malic Acid

*Live cultures: L. Bulgaricus, S. Thermophilus, Bifidobacterium

Notice that sugar is listed as an ingredient three times.
Why is there regular AND modified corn starch?  Is the natural vanilla flavor from vanilla (just because it's natural doesn't mean that it's from vanilla; the determination "natural" just means it comes from natural sources, not chemically created ones)?  Why do you need to color it?
This really brings me back to what Michael Pollan wrote in In Defense of Food - the fewer the ingredients, the better.  I know what all of the ingredients in Siggi's are.  I can't even get a clear Wikipedia entry for sodium citrate.
What I find even funnier (not funny haha, but funny ironic...) is that there is no proof that the third culture in Activia® helps a person's digestive system any more than cultures found in other yogurts.
If we look further onto the nutrition label, we'll see that Siggi's has 16 grams of protein in that little cup (that's 35% of a woman's RDA); the Activia® has 5 grams.  The Dannon® has 17 grams of sugars while the Siggi's has 11 grams.  I could go on, but I think the point is made.
The Siggi's wasn't inexpensive, but then, nothing that is high quality ever is.  I think I'll stick with my plain yogurts that I sweeten and flavor on my own for the everyday, but when I want to treat myself, I'll make sure to save a little room in the shopping bag for some Siggi's.

"'Get Your Pies for the Great Pie Fight!'"*

Happy (belated) National Pie Day!  When I learned of this (the same way all my other friends did - via NPR), I was furious at not having marked such an important holiday on my calendar with several reminders.
That led to a bit of a scramble.  And not the delicious, eggy kind.
We already had plans to head to Scott's mom's house in the afternoon for a family get together, for which I had volunteered to make a salad.  We had so many greens that we literally did NOT have room in the fridge for them and everything else we already had in there.
There was only one teeny tiny leetle issue.  The outlet in our garage that powered our refrigerator went kaputt, and while Scott managed to run an extension cord to another outlet for the night, he spent all morning going back and forth to the hardware store, trying to get all the necessary items to fix it.  Sadly, it was beyond the capacity at which I was willing to let him risk zapping himself, so we have to call in an electrician.  For the meantime, our temporary fix works, so we didn't have to lose any of the ravioli, stock, or pasties that I had saved.
Of course, while Scott was being Mr. Fix-It, I had to tend to HRH, who was a ball of fire, nearly running up and down the stairs, playing ball, jumping on her trampoline, and generally being full of P&V.  Thus, it wasn't until I was able to put her down for her nap (late, which seems to be her usual anymore) that I could really begin my prep work in the kitchen.
In between stair sessions, I was able to find a recipe for a Shaker lemon pie.  The Shakers were a religious group founded around the time of the Revolutionary War, an off-shoot from the Quakers.  The height of their faith was before the Civil War, and many Shakers (so called because of their practice of shaking when moved by the Holy Spirit), lived in Ohio.
From what I understand, this pie recipe was created after several Shakers made a trip down the Mississippi River from Ohio to New Orleans, where they came across lemons.  Not wanting to waste any of the fruit, they came up with a pie recipe that is not a meringue-like pie but not a custard-like pie, either.  It's kind of a cross of the two, but with a double crust, and the lemons are sliced thinly, as one would apples.

Yes, I totally reused this picture.
But lemons sitting in sugar look
the same as lemons sitting in water.

I didn't want to make a lemon meringue pie (I really didn't feel like tackling meringue in my small window), but I wanted to do SOMETHING, so I thought this was a good plan.
The first step that involves slicing the lemons and having them sit in sugar was easy, and I did that first so that I could meet the minimum time requirement set forth in the recipe that I followed.  Then I made the pate brisee.  I was pretty excited to pull out my new Cuisinart® food processor again, and I was really, really, REALLY pleased with how it turned out.  I mean, I liked this recipe before (I always use it when making fruit pies), but the dough was SO rollable this time, so perhaps my days with the pastry cutter are over (I kind of shudder to think - there is something comforting about such an activity).

Can you believe these are TURNIPS?
How gorgeous are they????

While the lemons were sugaring and the pate briseeing, I threw together the salad.  Everything BUT the green beans (left over from my pickle brine recycling experiment) were from Desert Root Farms.  The star was really the scarlet queen red salad turnip.  This baby came with directions on the label - to serve raw or lightly cooked.  So we followed directions and didn't use them in the latkes the other night, reserving them instead for the salad (they are crunchy and earthy - very nice!).  To that I added dill, and I tossed those three simple items over a mix of spinach, red leaf, and green leaf.

Shake-shake-shake...

Of course, when one is making a fresh salad, it would NOT be apropos to use a bottled dressing (OK, I am a snob; I admit it).  But come on - you already know I have all the ingredients to make a vinaigrette, right?  Lemons, olive oil, mustard, and more dill with just a wee bit of salt, all emulsified with a good dose of elbow grease.
OK, so back to the pie.  Once we were showered and HRH woke up from her nap, we packed up the car (seriously, it was like packing for a three-day trip, and we were driving thirty minutes away) and headed out.  Once at our destination, I rolled out the pate brisee, whisked up some eggs, added them to the lemon mixture, and popped it in the oven.
While it was cooling, everyone ate dinner, and the dressing was used up and the mustard smeared on burger buns.  I am pleased to note that the mustard DID mellow but stayed nice and scharf, a nice accompaniment to a good ol' cheddar cheeseburger.

The air vents were in the shape
of a "T" for Tay's birthday.

I'm not sure how I felt about the pie, but the family SAID they liked it.  It was tart - but it's supposed to be.  I think I might add just a little more sugar AND let the lemons sit at least overnight to mellow out just a little more.  Also, the custard part of the pie didn't totally set up, but I think that's mostly because we didn't let it cool to its optimal room temperature.  All in all, though, this is a recipe I would not mind tweaking to make my own.
The last thing I did before the weekend ended was to make cinnamon sugar, which was not really much of a feat (mix cinnamon and sugar in cannister - shake vigorously - sprinkle on toast/tortilla/spoon), but I was seething from not being able to obtain my precious vanilla beans to make my extract and sugar ("we regret that we are temporarily out of vanilla beans"), so I felt like I needed to do something with sugar to channel that crushed hope in a more positive manner.

*Clearly, I am on a Mel Brooks kick here - this is a line from Blazing Saddles.  If you can't place the line, you need to watch the movie again.

"What's the Matter, Colonel Sanders? Chicken????"*

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!

*Quote from Mel Brooks's Spaceballs

Colonel Mustard... in the Kitchen... With the Blender

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.

Cornundrum No More

I haven't forgotten about my lemon saga.  I just have been having some... technical difficulties with my marmalade, so there is some regrouping that needs to be done before I have enough for a full entry.

Good thing we had other food (foodie?) stuff going on this weekend!

Since getting his new smoker for Christmas, Scott has been all a-twitter about doing a brisket.  I really really really wanted him to let me corn it so it would become pastrami, but apparently someone doesn't want to be told how to use his toy.  

So, Texas brisket it was!

Scott won't fill me in on what he puts in his special rub, but there were some orange powders and some white ones, and I know that black pepper went into it, but that's about all I can give you.  If you have ever seen one of those BBQ cook-offs, you know how secretive people are about their rubs.  In the end, it didn't matter what went into it - the final product was all that was needed.

Then the brisket went into the smoker (8:45-ish) to absorb the mesquite goodness coming from below.  It had to cook to 185, but remember - smoking is a "low and slow" process - you don't want the meat to cook too quickly, as you won't get that lovely ring, and you'll likely end up with a rather tough offering on your plate.  This literally took all day, with Scott tending to it, adjusting the heat as needed (he's still figuring out all the bells and whistles) and adding more chips when the smoke showed signs of fading.

Just in from the smoker, having a bit of a rest.

Of course a brisket is a big ol' hunk of beef, as you might be able to tell from this pic of the finished product, so we invited his mom over for dinner (hosting other guests on Day 2 of potty training seems kind of uncool on several fronts, as there is a semi-clad toddler racing around).  She offered to bring dessert, so we took on everything else.

The main dish being under control, we looked not far at all for the veggie of the night - each week, when we pick up our amazing (half) share of Desert Root Farms veggies, we are greeted with a cheerful recipe attached to the bag, highlighting at least one of the goodies inside.

This week's recipe was clear evidence of kismet - we had all the ingredients (well, some were in the bag attached to the recipe, but we at least had them NOW).

Sauteed Turnips with Spinach

(courtesy the amazing people at Desert Root Farms)

• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 3 medium turnips, peeled and cut into matchsticks
• 1/2 cup raisins
• 3 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
• 10 ounces fresh spinach, coarsely chopped
• freshly ground nutmeg, to taste
• salt and pepper, to taste

Heat oil in saute pan over medium-high heat.  Add garlic, turnips, and raisons; cook about one minute.

Add lemon juice; cover and cook three minutes at medium heat.

Stir in the spinach and cook until just wilted.

Sprinkle with nutmeg, salt and pepper.

My modifications:

• I used bacon fat instead of olive oil
• We didn't have any raisins, so I used dried cranberries
• We used only one turnip, but it was Gigantor, pictured below.
• I don't think Scott peeled it, but I can't say.  I tend to not peel my root vegetables, as the skins offer many wonderful nutrients, and they often look pretty, too.

Now THAT is a turnip!
And not even the biggest one of the week, according to DRF's FB page!

And what else?  Scott suggested some green beans that I had picked up at the store, but those were for a different purpose (more on that in a sec...).  We decided on cornbread, but I rather blanched when he said he needed to run out to get some Jiffy® mix.  Don't get me wrong - that stuff (well, the blueberry muffin mix) got me through high school.  But if we are going to smoke our own brisket and use startingly fresh veggies, would a boxed mix really do the trick?
Rhetorical question - the answer is no.
My friend Katie, who is embarking on an amazing year-long adventure of homemade everything, recently posted a link to a skillet cornbread recipe that she made for dinner.  Excitedly, I scanned down the page and clicked the link - hey, if it takes you to a page that is called "olsouthrecipes," it's going to be the real thing.
Then, my heart sank -  I knew we didn't have enough corn meal for that recipe.
However, a short check through a search engine yielded a similar recipe but with smaller portion sizes.  I melded these two recipes, as I just could NOT in good conscience use shortening when we had bacon fat and butter, so the second recipe in and of itself was out.
Here is the final recipe that I came up with after modifying both recipes:

Skillet Cornbread

• 1 cup cornmeal (I used yellow, but I'm sure white would be fine)
• 1/2 cup AP flour
• 1 tablespoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup buttermilk
• 1/2 cup whole milk (I mean, you could use any milk, I suppose, but...)
• 1 egg
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/4 cup butter, melted
• 2 tablespoons (or so) bacon fat

Preheat the oven to 450.
In a large bowl, mix the cornmeal, flour, baking powder, and salt with a whisk.  Set aside.
In another bowl, mix the buttermilk and the milk with a whisk (you can use the same one).  Add the egg and stir (don't beat it like you are scrambling eggs; this is somewhat gentle work).  Stir in the baking soda in the same manner.
Pour the milk mixture into the cornmeal mixture and stir with the whisk until all the ingredients are just combined.
Slowly drizzle in the melted butter, stirring as you pour.
Melt the bacon fat in a cast iron skillet over medium-high heat.
Pour the batter into the skillet (you should hear sizzling) and cook for one minute on the stove top.
Place the skillet into the oven and cook for 15-20 minutes until crispy and golden.  Serve warm (or cold, or re-heated).
***I have read in several articles that you MUST use a cast iron skillet - anything else changes the taste. I honestly am not sure what else one would use, unless it was muffin tins, but then you wouldn't have cornbread, would you?  You'd have corn muffins.

Sizzling on the stove top - you can see the bacon fat bubbling up.

Just out of the oven - looks kind of like a giant pancake, doesn't it?
Remember that your skillet will bE SUPER HOT!  Use the little mitt thingies that came with it.

Now, let me be very clear here:  I really don't like cornbread.

Or so I thought.

I have always, ALWAYS put loads of butter and honey on my cornbread, even if it was sweet cornbread (which, according to certain experts... uh, family, that I have asked, is NOT southern cornbread) in the first place.  I was SURE that there was no other way to eat it, or, in my eyes, choke it down.  How else could I eat something THAT terribly dry?

But oh, mama, this cornbread...
This was amazing cornbread.  It was moist; it was fluffy; it was buttery.  In short, it was AMAZING.

Put all of this together, add some freshly squeezed lemonade (I used four of the five leftover lemons I mentioned in my last post), and you have a meal!

I was the only one who really liked the turnip dish, but I think that it's quite adaptable - you could really use any dark, leafy green or root vegetable in the place of the spinach and turnips (respectively).  I'm also quite certain that any dried fruit - or perhaps olives; I like olives - would be fine instead of the raisins.  I'm already thinking that it might be fun to add a dash of cumin next time; I find that is a great match to dried fruits in savory dishes.

I don't want to admit how little time elapsed between the full plate pic and this one.
There was definitely a "less talking - more eating" thing going on!

Now, the green beans I mentioned earlier had a special purpose.  I read that pickling brine can be "recycled" using pickling cucumbers once the original contents of the container have been consumed.  Of course, those aren't really in season at the moment, so I thought I would try to stuff some green beans (these are great in a bloody Mary, btw) into the jars that once housed my pickled okra (as of tonight, two of the jars have been demolished).
The first jar isn't quite ready - I stuffed them in there without doing anything to them but washing them and cutting them to size.
I'm hoping to speed up the process just a tick for the second jar; I parboiled this bunch before sending them into the briny depths.  Only time will tell, though.

Finally, I had a little "a-ha!" moment coming home from the store today (where I got WW flour instead of the AP that was on my list - derp!).  I realized that I had forgotten to get mustard, and we are completely out.  UGH!  We both really like mustard, although we tend to drift toward the "fancy schmancy" mustards instead of the yellow bottles (although I was mad about using the last of that, too).
Then I just told myself - we HAVE mustard seeds; I'll make it!
There we have it - I realized that making food from scratch, even condiments, is way more fun that getting it from the store.
Wait isn't that the intent of this blog?  For me to travel down the road of truly good eating, which means to put fewer ingredients - basically, only the pronounceable ingredients - in my mouth?  To come to enjoy making a meal, even if it's more elaborate to prepare or seemingly less healthy at first (I have used more bacon fat since starting this blog than I think I have in my life leading up to last fall)?  Well, yeah.
Epiphany?  No.  Just a realization that keeping tabs on myself and holding myself accountable is working.  I am eating less food but enjoying the collecting, preparing, and eating of it so much more than I ever thought I would.
The mustard seeds have to sit in their little bath until Wednesday, but I'm excitedly considering my spice options already.  Suggestions are welcome - just know that in the question the Pommes Frites street vendors of Regensburg often posed to me, "Süß oder scharf," I always choose scharf.

When a Friend of Yours Gives You a Bazillion Lemons, Part I

We have often discussed, over dinner, the probability of tearing up the two ash trees in our backyard in order to plant ones that might be more useful than giving Scott an excuse to use the leaf blower.  We would LOVE to have citrus trees, although the type is always difficult to select (we don't have room to plant all the varieties we actually want), and certainly the quantity of any tree's offerings can often be staggering.

Thankfully, we have a friend who offered to give us some lemons, and we were only too happy to accept. 

Last week, we got a plastic grocery bag full, and when she said, "Do you want more?"  I said, "Sure!"  I  had visions of several lemony treats dancing in my head.  I love lemons for their versatility and the instant mood lift their color and fragrance gives me.

Well, today, that "more" arrived - in two large trash bags.

WOW, that is a LOT of lemons!

Let me back up for a moment.  If you search for lemon recipes, you will likely come across several that specify Meyer lemons.  The Meyer variety is NOT what grows in many Arizona backyards; in fact, Meyer lemons are illegal in the state of Arizona because it is known to harbor a disease that could devastate the citrus crop, one of the 4 C's that built this state.  No, the lemons that we have all over our house are the Lisbon, a smooth-skinned and sour lemon.

I have quite a list of items, to which I already plan to add, that I am planning on making or am in the process thereof:

• lemon marmalade (this was tricky to find a recipe - most were Meyer lemon marmalades; note that the Meyer lemon CAN NOT be interchanged with any sour variety)
• lemon extract - did you know that most "pure" extracts contain HFCS? (I'm also planning on making vanilla extract once I get myself to the store and buy some vanilla beans)
• lemon sugar (also something of which I would like to have the vanilla variety)
• lemon butt chicken - that's right - lemon. butt. chicken.
• limoncello - gotta start it now so it's ready by the time the triple digits hit!

So, tonight, after a rather long Day 1 of potty training HRH, I decided to start tackling the list while Scott gave the princess her bath and put her to bed (I had taken Zooey on a run this afternoon, and it proved too hot for a black hound dog, but even though I had to cut it short for her, she was in NO mood - read "asleep" - to go for her usual evening walk/run).

First on the list: begin the marmalade.  

The recipe that I am using (link/recipe to be posted in Part II of this saga - I hope) adds no store-bought pectin, which is why I selected it.  One less item that I had to buy, and I'll be using the "bits" of the lemon instead - that means less waste!
After I sliced 7 lemons into pieces as thin as I could possibly slice without a mandoline (on my wish list for FOREVER), I placed them into water to soak overnight... good night, my pretties!

Once I put the slices in to rest, I turned my attention to the sugar.  Three cups of sugar and the zest of three lemons later (I think I should add that I am MADLY in love with my Microplane®), I have lemon sugar.
However, adding lemon zest to sugar does create moisture, and it's important to make sure that the moisture is completely gone before storing.  I spread my sugar in a pan, and in the morning, it should be dry enough to put in the crazily large canister that I purchased for this exact purpose (I didn't want to use too much sugar and not have enough for the marmalade tomorrow).

The last item of business for the night: lemon extract.  This was easy - equal parts vodka and filtered water, and the roughly chopped peel (no pith!) of one lemon per cup of liquid.
I made a pint of extract, so I used two lemons.

Of course, this is NOT going to be ready right away... sigh...  I hid it up in the cupboard above our refrigerator, although I am thinking that I need to move it, as I can already imagine my panic when I can't remember where I put it.

Now... I have five lemons, completely bereft of their skins/zest, sitting my my fridge, so I've got to get to the store to get myself a roaster.  And I guess I could make some lemon curd.  Or some lemonade.  Or some... well, looks like my list is going to start growing pretty darn fast.

Chard-Mander

I love all-in-one dishes!  They are so much easier to make and serve.  Since my dear husband got home late this evening, I flipped through several of my cookbooks, looking for something to use our veggies - first batch of 2011!! - but that was quick.  Then I decided just to look in the fridge and throw something together.  I'm getting better at this.

Greens-n-Bacon

• Three rashers of streaky bacon, cut into 1/4 inch pieces
• One-half red onion, chopped
• Two tablespoons of minced garlic
• Two very large bunches of Swiss chard (or two medium ones)
• 1/2 cup of chicken stock 

Cook bacon is large pan at medium high heat until crispy.  Remove bacon from the pan with a slotted spoon, leaving the drippings.  Add onion and garlic; cook for two minutes.  Add the greens and toss to coat in the drippings.  Add the broth, cover, and simmer on medium heat until greens are completely wilted.  Add the bacon back to the pan and remove from heat.  Serve immediately.
Of course, the beauty of this recipe is that you can modify it in many ways.  It would be excellent with pancetta (my favorite).  If one wanted to have a vegetarian version, olive oil and vegetable broth could be substituted.  Instead of a red onion, a Walla Walla sweet or even a basic white one could be thrown in.  And naturally, any green could be used instead of the chard.  We actually had a medium bunch of chard and a bunch of some other leafy green that I couldn't identify, so I used those.
However, I really liked this version, since the saltiness of the onion and the sweetness of the red onion really melded together well with the chard and the bread, which we used to sop up every last bit of precious pot liquor.  Even though we do live in the Valley of the Sun, it's still nice to have a stash of cold-weather recipes for when the temps fall.