It's such a great time of year in the garden. I love dirt! Here are my first tomatoes. I cut back a volunteer tomato that had been growing in the greenhouse over the winter and it not only survived but went on to give me tomatoes. Still waiting... The pumpkin vine really took off, and by the end of the month you can see the pumpkins are bigger every day. These are Cinderella's Carriage Pumpkins. Progress from the corn over the month of May. All the leaves looked shredded, but they went on to grow decently. Snow Peas! My daughter's favorite. They grew in spite of the insects that killed half the plants. Next time I will plant them where it is not so windy though. Loganberries, whatever those are. They look like raspberries but they're not quite as sweet and a little more perfume. Still, even grown in pots they are prolific. These are surprises from the fall. The kale I had cut down at dirt level and it grew back. The beets had been sitting there since maybe last October. Better late than never! A lot of carrots that I planted last fall. The best we've had so far. All the weird ones we call 'dancing' carrots. The rabbits love them. Above left are some citrus trees we inherited and some herbs I started. On the right are Missouri Bill's Soup Beans with volunteer Cosmos. Garlic I planted last October, and on the right a zucchini.
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It started with a pound of defrosted cod in the refrigerator which nearly ended up in the trash. I found a recipe from another packet of cod which I'd kept, and this was born. It was one of those simple things that may never happen again, but it was so good I'd hate to forget. Even my kids loved it! My son is getting over a cold and still has some lung congestion, so I tried to keep the dairy to a minimum and boost it with ingredients that help a cold. Garlic would have been nice, but there was none in the house. We had leftover basmati rice which had been cooked with a little salt, pork broth, and the fat in the pork broth. A curiously delicious combination. Ingredients: 1/2 stick Kerrygold butter 1 red onion or a few shallots, diced 1/2 Tablespoon chopped ginger 1/2 Tablespoon chopped fresh turmeric 1 sprig of thyme 2 Tablespoons flour 2-4 cups of sautéed mushrooms... or anything else 7 cups (approximately) chicken stock 1/2 cup half and half 1 pound defrosted cod in pieces salt and pepper Korean pepper flakes (Optional) warm cooked rice or a chopped potato or two Directions:
Melt the butter in a soup pot and add the onion. Let it all simmer and bubble, adding a pinch of salt. When the onion is soft, add in the ginger, turmeric, and thyme. (If you are using potato, add it now and give it a few minutes to soften.) Stir in the flour. After a minute or so, add the cooked vegetables, the chicken stock, and the half and half. Bring it up to a boil, add the fish pieces, and then turn it down to gently cook the fish (and potatoes). Once the fish is cooked, add the salt and pepper. Serve the soup over warm rice if you like it that way and add a sprinkle of Korean pepper flakes. SO GOOD!!! I came home after a week away and was awakened the first morning by the rooster crowing at 4 am. That sealed his fate. It had been a long time since I'd had an uninterrupted night's sleep, and I wasn't ready to go back to a 4 am wake-up call. Since it is a lot of work and angst to butcher/cull/harvest chickens, I decided that two of my oldest hens who haven't laid an egg in a year or two would meet their maker as well. One of them received a last minute pardon from my nine year old son who claims she is his favorite chicken, but no one cried over the rooster or the mean old hen. (Except my daughter, but only on principal, not because she liked them. She is a tenderhearted girl.) I think this brings me down to twenty chickens, seventeen of which are middle-aged, if not quite perimenopausal. I think that when they stop laying, their day may also come, most likely early September this year.
I feel a certain amount of fear over the chickens, not because I feel bad about eating them, but because I am so afraid of hurting them or killing them badly. To put this into perspective, I'm also afraid to trim my dog's nails. I finally realized that sometimes you can outsource, and it doesn't need to be a cause for shame. Some people have no problem trimming dog nails, some people can butcher chickens. I do other things. My father and husband stepped in for the part where I had to look away, but I stuck around for everything else. I have enough trouble touching chicken feet when they're alive let alone grabbing filthy dead chicken feet to swirl a bird in hot water before plucking them. HOWEVER. Once I removed the head and feet I felt much more reassured that the bird was done suffering and the rest really wasn't too bad. In fact, once I saw the quality of the meat I knew I'd be doing this again. So if this is really disturbing to you, don't look, but if you were ever interested in anatomy, keep reading. Love, sweet love. That's what comes with the breeding season. This is our first time breeding goats, and we're all pretty excited over here. I am a beginner, not an expert, so I'm sure my account of the whole process is riddles with inaccuracies, but if you are as clueless as I was, this will still be interesting. Step 1: Your doe must be in heat. This is not rocket science, but it is a little complicated for a first timer like myself. You look for flagging, which is just some serious tail wagging. Some does bleat themselves hoarse. There may be some swelling and moisture, er, down there. Other goats, even other does, will start mounting the doe in heat. But if you've never seen it for yourself it can be a trifle mystifying. Does go into heat every 21 days, but if you're on a schedule, you can try to hurry things up by exposing them to a male. That will put them into heat. If you have a lot of land it might make sense to keep a buck, but they have some quirks that make them undesirable for your backyard. First, they have a goat-y aroma that appeals only to other goats. Second, they urinate all over themselves to enhance their appeal. If you are milking, they make the milk taste weird. All bad. So we had to bring our ladies for an introductory meeting at a farm that keeps bucks. The transportation, at least for my tiny little adorable goats, wasn't too bad. Both girls fit into a big dog kennel with no problem, the only issue being that we had to pick them up and put them in there. (Fortunately, I had help from a very kind backyard farmer since that is not my forte.) We got to the farm and introduced the girls to the buck. Goats are friendly and it went pretty well. The first trip was to put them in heat, so mostly there was a lot of running around. Roughly five days later the girls are expected to go into heat. It isn't an exact science. I kept checking, and it was really hard to say. There was inconsistent flagging. There was some discharge, but I had to ask myself if I'd ever looked closely enough at a goat butt before to know what it looks like normally. I tried grabbing their tail from on top (the clean, hairy side) and if they stand still for you that is another indication that they are in heat. Neither goat moved, but I don't ever do that anyway, so no way to compare. Step 2: The doe stands for the buck. So off we went to the farm again with high hopes of milk in our future. Our first trip out I'd been so excited to meet all the animals I didn't pay much attention to what was happening with my girls, but this time around I stayed to watch because I needed to know if they were bred or not. At first the buck struck me as really gross. I can see where all the jokes come from about a dirty old goat. He did some weird stuff with his tongue, and his intact portions hung down like engorged udders. Bucks also sample the urine from a doe's urine stream multiple times, and this one was no exception. Not in good taste perhaps, but the girls didn't seem to mind. In the buck's defense I will say that he, unlike a rooster, was quite a gentleman. If the doe isn't in heat, if she doesn't smell right, if she doesn't want to stand for him to do his business, he leaves her alone. Buttons wasn't in heat. Calypso clearly was, and they followed each other around flirtatiously while he nuzzled her and she wagged her little tail suggestively. There was quite a bit of courtship, but the breeding itself is brief. Blink and you'll miss it. Step 3: Wait and prepare. There's a possibility Calypso was bred on her first visit, so I recorded both dates and expect her to kid in 145-155 days. We will supplement her orchard grass with peas for extra protein, and she has minerals available to her. (The minerals are just a bucket of loose sand which almost smells appetizing.) We will watch Buttons for signs of going into heat and bring her back. We're going away next week and we could possibly miss it, but some time in the next month we hope to get it done. Incidentally, I finally got over my fear of picking up goats. It turns out that if you hold them from the side their back legs fold up into a neat little goat package and your arms don't come into contact with anything unsavory. I almost like it! Almost.
This is the dish that sold me on the need to can tomatoes every summer. We tried canning them for the first time last summer, and I thought when we did it that it represented a colossal waste of time on a Sunday afternoon. But this dish highlights the sweetness of home-canned tomatoes, a sweetness that you can't buy. The kale was the best part of this. It had a tender, mild quality to it I've never tasted before except in perfectly cooked spinach. Maybe because it was home grown, maybe because it was simmered in the tomatoes and the sausage. Maybe it was just the butter, but I wish there had been leftovers. Ingredients: 3 cloves crushed and chopped garlic 3 tablespoons olive oil 3 tablespoons butter 1/4 teaspoon pepper flakes 4 cups thinly sliced kale 4 cups home canned tomatoes 1 pound cooked sweet Italian sausage, either crumbled or sliced 2 cups shredded white cheddar cheese 1 pound penne or other pasta 1/3 cup grated parmesan Directions:
Begin with the sauce. In a large sauté pan or skillet, heat the oil, the butter, and the chopped garlic together. When the garlic starts to sizzle a little, add in the pepper flakes. Give it maybe 15 seconds to warm up and flavor the oil, and then add in the kale. Salt the kale a little to break it down, and once it looks a little cooked add in the tomatoes and sausage. Bring it to a boil, then turn it down to a simmer for a while. Taste it for salt and pepper and be sure the kale cooks down and the tomatoes disintegrate. As it simmers some of the excess liquid should evaporate so the sauce won't be too soupy. Preheat the oven to 400. Cook the pasta according to package directions, being sure to salt the water until it tastes good. After draining the pasta, stir it into the sauce. (I hope you used a REALLY big skillet!) Add in the shredded cheese and mix together. Pour the whole thing into a 9"x13" baking pan. Top with the parmesan cheese and put the whole thing in the oven until it looks a little browned and any cheese in it has melted, only about 15 minutes for me because it was all still hot from the stove and didn't require much time in the oven. If it had been refrigerated first maybe I would have cooked it at 350 for a half hour to forty-five minutes. Take it out and serve it hot. The goats found a loose board in the fence and made a break for it.
I was running out to my car when I saw some movement out of the corner of my eye and thought, "Oh, somebody has lost their goats." Goats? Goats? I have goats too, but mine are locked up. I had a tough time wrapping my brain around it. Fortunately, my dad, also my next door neighbor, happened to see the shadow of a fleeing goat running down the driveway and he came to my rescue. The problem for me is not catching the goats. I am a natural born sheep dog. I chase the goat down the driveway and round her up from the neighbors ivy-filled front yard. Buttons and I make eye contact. The problem is picking her up!!!! How do you grab a goat? My dad did it. My sister, my son, my husband have all done it. It seems I'm missing the goat pick-up gene. There is something slippery about goats. They have horns and hooves. I don't want to make contact with anything on the back end. I don't really want to hug the front end either. So I'm stuck. It's that awkward moment when you wish you hadn't gone in for a hug and suddenly you feel like you have extra limbs and you know before it happens that your heads will collide. So I pause, and the goat gets away. "Pick up the goat," hollers my dad, who is under no small amount of duress and holding Calypso in a firm embrace. So I try again, but I can't get past the geometry problem in front of me. My two arms, the goat's big squishy belly, the back end, the front end, the hooves. I'll never fit the pieces together. My son rushes over with a length of rope, and suddenly it all feels even more futile. More impossible geometry. A length of rope we had set aside for such emergencies. I start fiddling with it, because I'm pretty sure that if I can remember how to tie a slip knot this could be the first step toward success. Buttons bolts for the ivy. "Pick up the goat," dad yells again, not sure why I'm just standing there idiotically while his arms are full of goat. The rest is a bit of a blur, perhaps because my amazing sheep dogging skills all kicked in and I did some amazing goat herding right back up that driveway and into the yard, but more likely I stood there and waved my arms around (still like an idiot) while my dad rescued not just one, but two escaped goats. I really don't remember anything else until it was all over and dad looks over at me and says in the authoritative voice reserved for your grown children, "You have to pick up the goats! Just pick up the goats!" Not gonna happen, I guess. It's a good thing my dad is also my next door neighbor, because I didn't get the goat pick-up gene. I started off the new year fully prepared to swear off cooking forever. I don't have the time or the energy,and no one here wants to eat what I want to cook. But then after a trip to Costco where I invested in a ridiculously generous supply of every staple I could think of, I realized I had everything I needed to try nearly every single recipe in my collection of Afghani recipes. Surely the stars don't align this way more than once in a lifetime! It was a sign. At first I thought I'd just try a few simple selections, but with each sip of coffee my dreams and delusions grew. This is how I ended up slaving over a meticulous, labor-intensive dish of stuffed chicken cooked in rice the very first week of the year. It was dry and disappointing. A "bitter" meal for me. I had been sure something that complicated had to result in greatness. It was SO bloody dry, and all the fried almonds and raisins and orange peel in the world couldn't fix that. However, there was a cauliflower stew I made as well which was quick, simple, and though never destined for greatness, I intend to make it all winter long. I tried it with beef stew meat and ground lamb. Both times it was really good. I served it with basmati rice because we eat everything with rice, but I suppose it could go with anything you like. There is nothing in the stew which screams "Afghani!", so it would be equally at home with naan or mashed potatoes. Happy New Year! Ingredients: 1-2 chopped onions 1/4 cup olive oil 1 pound of stew meat, either lamb or beef 2 teaspoons ground coriander OR 2 Tablespoons tomato paste 2 cloves chopped garlic 1-1/2 teaspoons split peas 1/2 teaspoon turmeric salt and pepper 1 large head of cauliflower cut into florets Directions:
In a large pot heat the oil and sauté the onions until they are golden brown. Add the meat, a little bit of salt, and allow the meat to brown a little. Stir in the coriander or tomato paste, the garlic, the split peas, the turmeric, and some salt and pepper. Add just enough water to barely cover the meat. Bring it up to a boil, then turn the heat down and simmer until the meat is tender. Add the cauliflower, and when that is tender too season to taste with salt and pepper. It is unfair to compare anything to hot chocolate, but this is a close second that really feels like you did something healthy. If you look up the health benefits of turmeric, ginger, cinnamon, coconut milk, raw milk, or Manuka honey you will be reading until next year. Suffice it to say, I don't see how you can go wrong with this. When you have a cold or a runny nose is perhaps not a great time to consume loads of milk, and in that case I use coconut milk instead. Your choice. Three quarters of my family loves this, and while that may not sound like a stunning endorsement to you... It is. Ingredients: 1 inch of grated fresh turmeric 2 inches of grated fresh ginger 4 peppercorns 2 cups of milk or coconut milk 1 tablespoon Manuka honey or to taste Directions:
Grate the turmeric and ginger on a box grater. Add the turmeric, ginger, peppercorns, and milk to a small saucepan. If you are using raw milk, be sure to only warm the milk and allow it to steep. For pasteurized milk or coconut milk, bring it to a simmer and then turn it off to steep for a few minutes. Strain it into cups and sweeten with Manuka honey to taste. Last year we made apple molasses, apple sauce, apple pie, dehydrated apples, everything apple. This year the trend continues with apple cake. I found the recipe in The San Francisco Ferry Plaza Farmer's Market Cookbook, and it's as easy as making muffins. Dump, dump, stir, bake. The dough tasted a little bitter from the baking soda and I had serious doubts, but it was wonderful the next morning for breakfast. It was not too sweet, and everyone was relieved not to have to eat eggs or oatmeal again. Try it and you'll see. We "iced" the cake with a mixture of butter and honey. Ingredients: 1 Tablespoon unsalted butter or spray for the pan 1-1/2 cups coconut oil, warmed to be soft if necessary 1-1/2 to 2 cups brown sugar 4 eggs 2 cups flour (I used a gluten-free mix) 1 Tablespoon baking soda 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg 1 teaspoon salt 3 cups of grated unpeeled Granny Smith apples 1 Tablespoon vanilla extract Directions:
Spray or grease two 9 inch cake pans and preheat the oven to 325. Mix the coconut oil, sugar, and eggs in one bowl. Mix the flour and the other dry ingredients in another bowl and then add them to the wet ingredients. Stir until combined, and then add the grated apple and vanilla. Pour half the batter into each cake pan and bake for 35-40 minutes. Test it with a toothpick in the center when you think it's done. After you take the cakes out, let them sit in the pans for about ten minutes before unfolding them and letting them cool. We "iced" our cakes with a mixture of butter and honey. I think of Clarice Starling and her need for the silence of the lambs on mornings like this, mornings when Buttons won't shut up.
The decision to add goats to my backyard came with a few sleepless nights. It sounds crazy, even to me. Goats sound like a heavy commitment, and when I got them the first comment that dropped from the majority of my astounded friends and family was, "Wow, now you can never go on vacation again!" The verdict is not in yet. There are still many mistakes for me to make, and so I can't claim to be able to answer the question of whether or not this was a smart move- not yet. But if you're wondering how the adventure feels to me so far, I can answer that. I'm assuming that like different breeds of dogs, different breeds of goats have their own personality. I have Nigerian Dwarf goats. They are cute, sweet, and little. Their milk tastes like the best, richest cow's milk you have ever tasted. It was not at all goat-y or grassy, although I'm sure it matters what you feed them. For me, the milk is the whole point. I greedily dream of fresh milk, ice cream, yogurt, butter, and feta. Mine are four and a half months old, and at nine months they can be bred. If all goes well, five months later you have kids and milk. Many of the details are still a little fuzzy for me, but I know a super nice lady who has been explaining it all to me step by step thus far. They are little itty bitty goats, but when they give milk I should get from one to two quarts per day. It is entirely possible that this time next year I will get a gallon of milk a day. I am already researching yogurt makers. I can't wait! The adorable goat babies will start out about the size of a shoe, and at eight weeks they can be weaned and sold. Again, I haven't done this part yet, I'm just keeping my fingers crossed. The goats are very quiet. You have to have two or they cry, but once they made the adjustment they have been nearly silent except for the occasional little "Maah." They do like to climb, which I should have known but never paid enough attention. They are little acrobats. They are also escape artists, so fencing is a must, and my husband went so far as to learn to pour concrete before the goats arrived. A worthy investment of his time! Their droppings look like little black beans, and they're too small and disappear too quickly to collect and compost. I was a little disappointed by this at first, but the good news is that they don't stink! The side of my house doesn't smell at all. They don't require much in the way of housing but what amounts to a dog house. They HATE to get wet, and they do need shelter from the wind. Since our goats are in a very sheltered spot on the side of the house, we just used a tarp to cover an old play structure, and so far this had been enough... Until this morning. I came out to lots of heartfelt bleating and a miserable, wet little Buttons. I toweled her down, brushed her, pet her, whispered to her, and loved on her. She was quiet the whole time, right until I walked away. Maah! I sent the kids back to her and the quiet Calypso with apples, carrots, and celery. They were quiet for a few minutes, presumably because they can't bleat and chew at the same time. Maah. Maah. Maah, maah, maah. |
AuthorI love trying new foods, cooking, and gardening. I hope to share these experiences on this site. Thanks for taking a look! Categories
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