Farm Fun and Associated "Recipe"

When the calfs are fed, dinner plates cleared, and the Alpenglow* shines on the mountains, what's a farm girl to do?**

Ride around the pasture, that's what!

Flutists always wear full face helmets, even if they are not quite as stylish on this particular motorcycle.

There's no need to rush home before dark when home and riding ground are one in the same.  Why not have a cool drink and enjoy the sunset, instead? It's easy to push the bike through the gate and into the shop.  The safety of my  summer "tiny house" is only a little footbridge away.

PBR: The choice of farmhands everywhere?  Certain activities DO pair well with certain drinks.

Recipe: Stroll over to the garden, and select the vegetable most in need of harvesting (in my case, kale).  Chop it into rather small pieces and saute/blanch/cook as appropriate.  Toss your result in olive oil, garlic, and chile flakes. Maybe add a touch of mashed anchovy (just enough to make one wonder), or a squeeze of lemon, or both.   Take a slice or two of day old baguette, and fry it in butter or oil - both sides! - until golden. Voila! You have a big, crispy crouton.  Top that crouton with your vegetable, a fried farm fresh egg (thanks, neighbors!), and a bit of cheese.  In the case of kale, might I recommend the Desert Red Feta?   Of course, if it's a lovely spring leek you have returned with, don't be ridiculous. Saute it in butter, toss in a splash of that lovely Alpine white*** you've recently become enamored with, and finish with a generous spoonful of the fresh cream you've skimmed from yesterday evening's milking.  Oh, and do trade the Desert Red Feta for some Wasatch Mountain Reserve.   Pop a dried date and a slice of Zwitser Gouda Reserve in your mouth for dessert.  Of course, if there are fresh market cherries in the house, have a few with the Farmhouse Gouda, instead.

* Technically, it's not actually Alpenglow, but the warm low light on the moutainsides is beautiful enough to deserve a romantic name.

**Let us, today, look beyond the obvious answer of "practice her flute."

***Yes, you CAN drink white wine with cheese. Alpine wine with alpine cheese: if it grows together, it goes together.  (I found the 2016 Les Rocailles Apremont Vin de Savoie at our little wine shop, and it's been my go-to drink with cheese all summer.)

Harvest on… hooves?

You may remember last spring, when I returned home from my Flatistan Tour of Duty, Li’l Burro and I took a celebratory ride in the desert.

This year*, I once again find myself savoring the wonders of springtime from the saddle.  The blooming desert is almost too glorious to bear**. Oh, happy homecoming!

Eventually, the gaudy display does become unbearable. I may have stomped my foot angrily, and said a little too loudly, to no one in particular: "Would you just look at this ridiculousness?!"***

Cholla blooms outshine their younger siblings, but it’s worth taking notice of the plain green buds, because…

Can you see the shimmery bead of sap at the base of each bud's thorn?

… you can eat ‘em!  It helps to travel properly equipped****.  Depending on the length of your tongs, harvesting the buds can feel downright dangerous.

My ride is right at home amongst the wildflowers.

Not what you expected, eh?*****

* I've been home about a month now.  For a probably never to be blogged Flatistan Eating/Kayaking/Unmotorized slide show, click here.
**Springtime in the Sonoran Desert is not without its dangers. Pilot Guy documented one of our encounters last month. 
***Seriously, it's ridiculous. For more photos, see here.
****Toss the ciolim, as they are called by the Tohono O'odham, vigorously in a mesh strainer to knock off their spines. Stand upwind!  Or singe or roast them off, if you prefer. You must boil the buds for at least 15 minutes to denature their oxalic acid, and, incidentally, release a wealth of calcium!  I think I'll use mine in a pico de gallo to go with some heavily spiced tepary bean hummus I made recently.
***** Introducing “Junior!”  Li'l Burro can't wait to meet him!  Truth be told, I've been riding Junior sporadically since September, but this week I have officially leased half of him for the next two months. I'll actually be home!  I'll save you the trouble of asking: I'm leasing the left half. Never fear, the iron horses are still being exercised...

What the Rain Brings*… (and a Bonus Gear Review, for Those That Care)

So, yeah, it’s been raining a bit lately.  Our monsoon can certainly be disadvantageous when riding a motorcycle, but it does have its perks.  To wit:

Water in our rivers…

Salt River Canyon

…flowers…

…and… the King!

No, no, not that king, but Boletus edulis, aka King Bolete, known to you and me as a porcini (porcino in the singular, actually) mushroom.  Interestingly, since my return, the Southwest's red capped variety has been reclassified to Boletus rubriceps, or the Rocky Mountain King Bolete.  I’m no less pleased with my find.

Earlier this month, the Ducati, my Rough Rider Happy Pig Mushroom Hunter's Knife,** and I spent three days camping and riding roads I love (Salt River Canyon, AZ 191/Coronado Trail Scenic Byway, and Mount Graham’s Swift Trail Parkway), with a little stop to join a guided mushroom foray.  Not all my finds made the cargo cut (I’m going to have to do something about that!), but I did bring home a respectable little haul.

In addition to the prize shown above, the fruits of my labors included two types of porcini cousins, a big White King Bolete (Boletus barrowsii) and several Aspen Boletes (Leccinum insigne); oyster mushrooms (Pleurotus ostreatus), and that mycological two-for-one fungi, lobster mushrooms (Hypomyces lactifluorum).  When I think what they would have cost me at Whole Foods… well, maybe that Ducati is going to finally start paying for herself!***

Ducati with Shrimp Mushrooms (Russula xerampelina).  I wasn’t positive of my identification at the time I found this batch on an earlier solo foray.

Three days in a motorcycle top box doesn’t do much for mushrooms.

These could use some food styling. Or at least some arranging.

What activity could be truer to the Eating on Two Wheels philosophy than tearing through canyons and across mountains, with an occasional stop to harvest wild mushrooms?

*Mushroomers will realize I’ve borrowed the idea of this title from David Arora’s excellent guidebook, “All That the Rain Promises, and More…”
**I am not making this up. Such a product actually exists, and turns out to be pretty useful.  You should see the box. It's hilarious.
***Doubtful
_________________________________________________________________
Some notes on mushroom safety:

• You can’t just go around taste testing mushrooms. Do your homework, including but not limited to: lots of reading, looking at a lot of specimens in the wild, and getting an expert to confirm your identifications, at least until you get awfully good at it.
• Once you are comfortable identifying an edible species, perform a standard controlled edibility test to confirm that particular species agrees with you.
• I’ve noticed it would be awfully easy to get lost in the woods while hunting mushrooms.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
• If you happen to overtake the sheriff at well over the speed limit outside Eager, AZ, just give him friendly wave as you return back to your side of the road.  This way, he won’t pull you over.  (Oopsy!)

Dining Notes:

• Elements Bistro Coffee Shop, Show Low, AZ: Wait, is it legal to serve burgers but not fries?  The burger was tasty, the salad a healthier option, I suppose, but, but... I wanted fries!  A splurge on the cinnamon roll for dessert may have reached the mythical point of too sweet, but was worth the calories.  I'd stop there again.

Gear Review with Preliminary Ranting:
About a year ago, I broke down and bought a textile “ADV” touring suit.  This was no small thing for me, because until then I’d only been willing to wear gear that was considered good enough for the track when riding on the street.  Call me crazy, but I’m pretty conservative about the sort of gear I trust with my personal safety.  But dirt and mud does not do much for leather, as it turns out, and at my equally conservative off-road speeds in the desert, one can argue that the danger of heat exhaustion quickly becomes just as clear and present as the danger of a “get-off.”  I really, really  wanted an Olympia X-Moto suit, and actually waited a season or two for one, but  - phooey on you, Olympia!!, - despite my hounding, they still won’t offer it for women. (I think the entire line is now discontinued.)  Until now, I’d only worn my new suit on Li’l Burro adventures, but I made an exception for this trip, and wore it on the Ducati. It’s simply easier to fit a hiking (or mushroom hunting, in this case) outfit on under this suit than my usual touring/track gear.

I’m going to take this opportunity to rant about a few "design features" of much of the all season gear available, first.  Hello?  Gear designers? Are you listening??

• Why put the waterproofing layer on the inside of the jacket??  Honestly, do you have any idea how heavy and uncomfortable a soggy outer layer is?  Do you know how long it can take to dry?  (You can see how much I love an actual rain suit at the bottom of this post.)
• Mesh on the outside, warmth on the inside.  Okay, I’ll admit I’m probably in the minority on this one, but I will never, ever buy gear with this configuration. No amount of quilting or wind resistance of the inner layer will make up for the fact that there’s an ice cold breeze screaming through that mesh when the temperatures drop.  If it’s mesh, it’s not all season gear. Period. (The X-Moto suit had a cool solution for this issue.)
• Protection on the “impact zones.”  Who says I’m going to land on my elbow in a crash?  I’d like the entire suit to be made of the most protective fabric, not just part of it.  So there.  400D just doesn’t cut it.
• Having a belt and calling the jacket “cut for women.”  Having to cinch up a belt and crumple a bunch of fabric around the waist isn’t exactly a good example of a streamlined hour glass design. Still, I like the belt option.  Both a belt and a tapered waist would be better.

Okay, now that I’ve gotten that out of my system, I’ll admit that, overall, I do like my Firstgear suit. Here are the details.

Firstgear Kilimanjaro Jacket (size WXS):

• Likes: Gear that fits me is hard to find, but this jacket fits perfectly! Score one for Firstgear!  It may not be pretty or fashionable, but I’ll opt for a nice full high-viz color scheme every time. This one sings with color!  I was pleasantly surprised with the effectiveness of the venting. August in Arizona?  No problem.  For me, anyway.  (To be fair, on this trip I was travelling at Ducati speed. I’ll have to update next time I use it off-road.  It’s been a while.)  The pricing is beyond reasonable. The outer layer is waterproofed as well as the inner liner.  So clever!  (Nothing will stop me from packing that afore mentioned rain suit, however.)  Pockets, pockets, pockets!  No shortage of pockets! (I don’t even come close to using all of them.)   Removable winter liner and armor are both included: I almost forgot to mention those, since I would not consider a jacket without both of these things. 
• Gripes: The phone pocket is just a bit too small for an iPhone with a cover.  Which means you’ll be fighting to get your phone in and out of your pocket. It’s annoying enough that I may have a friend with needle and thread skills adjust it for me.  Lord help you if you have a giant Android.  If it has a left hand zipper pull, it’s not redesigned for women.  (I am zipper deficient. Motorcycle camping involves an awful lot of zippers, as it turns out.)  400/640D dernier is wimpy.  Bump it up, Firstgear.  The shoulder vents are a bit tricky to operate while actually riding. And if you’re wearing a backpack, forget it.
• Overall: I’ll admit it, I like this high-on-the-bang/buck scale jacket.  But I will probably continue my habit of using it just for dual sporting.

First Gear TPG Escape Pant (Size 6. I have an older model, and I’m suspicious they don’t make them for women anymore, but here’s the info, anyway.) 

• Likes: Again, these actually fit me! (Happy dance!)  Again, the two little vents offer surprising air flow.  What? An actual pocket for your keys?  (Race track pants do not provide this nifty feature.)  The snapping/velcro liner cuff at the ankle keeps water and drafts out, and is much appreciated!  Like the jacket, the necessary armor is included.  There is a zipper connection between the pants and jacket.  It’s not full circumference, but it’s something.  They, too, are reasonably priced, especially since I bought an older model.
• Gripes: They are designed for women in that the hips have, you know, hips, and the waist has, you know, a waist. But I think Firstgear forgot  that, when you put on pants, the waist has to fit over the hips to get to the waist. I have a bit of a struggle with this part, especially with the winter liner, but once they’re on, I find them quite comfortable.  Unless you get pants with a full leg length zipper, they will never be easy to get on/off over boots: there is no hasty escaping from the “Escape Pant.”
• Overall: Yep, I’m happy with my pants, but will likely reserve them for dual sport use, or occasional commuting when I need to wear something other than UnderArmour beneath.

More Excuses

It doesn’t matter that motorcyclehouse.com just sent you a cool new Adventure Dry Bag to review, or that the stack of music you have to learn is so heavy it collapses your sturdy Manhasset stand, or even that you have no fewer than 14 half written blog posts in the queue, summer’s bounty doesn’t politely align itself with your personal schedule.  In fact, by the time late July arrives, the botanical production line outpaces even a speedy little Ducati.*  Ready or not, it's time to stock the pantry.

“Cherry bike!” a friend called out.  I could probably ride 200 miles in the time it will take me to pit 30 lbs of pie ** cherries.

A friend’s raspberry patch bears fruit according to its own schedule.  A test batch of Eating on Two Wheels proprietary Raspberry Something extends the fruits’ culinary life when nature lacks restraint. (Don't worry, I'm an ATGATT*** rider and canner. I always wear my safety gear, and adhere to all USDA canning safety guidelines.)

Not everything is destined for the canning pot.  Raspberry turnovers last week, cherry pies tomorrow, plus great quantities slurped straight up while standing outside or over the sink... the happy eating never ends!

A Tucsonan has no real need to bottle up Utah’s sunshine, but with the marked lack of fresh apricots in southern Arizona, it’s well worth it to let the rest of my life rumble on idle, while I preserve these beauties.

*There are faster machines on the road, to be sure, but with an 80 hp to 355 lb (not including fuel, engine oil, or market produce) power to weight ratio, she “gits along jest fine.”
**They’re not just for pie!  I forecast a succulent cut of pork, rich with drippings, balanced by the tingling bite of sour cherries. Whatever the details of this yet to be fully developed recipe, I’ll call it Pork Montmorency and serve it the next time the snow hits the  mountains in Tucson.  (Yes, we do see snow in Tucson.)  No, no, I'll call it Hog Montmorency, even if I don't ride a Harley. 
***All The Gear All The Time 

Southern California Must-See Number One (Santa Monica Farmers Market)

“Sort-of-Sabbatical” Day Four, Wednesday June 6

Touring in a urban area is a first for me.  I won’t plan anything too challenging for today, because I need to work on developing completely new skills, such as juggling various vehicles in small spaces to free my motorcycle from the carport, and managing a gate remote with gloves on, getting it stuffed back into my tank bag, and riding out before the gate closes again.  Plus there’s that pesky phenomenon of southern California traffic.  I lingered longer than I would have liked over my coffee waiting and waiting some more for all the red lines indicating stopped traffic on Google Maps to abate.  I’m not quite ready to lane split yet.  But I eventually do reach Santa Monica, and I feel like a pro when I score free parking - on market day, no less!






 

I’m walking and tasting, walking and tasting.  The stone fruits – so tempting, but they’re just not at their prime.  The strawberries, they’re all over the map, although the Chandler variety (one of my favorites) is holding its own.  But it’s the “Eran G” cherries that stop me in my tracks, with their perfect balance of sweet, tart, and full cherry flavor.  I really don’t think I’ve ever had a cherry this good before, and there’s no question what I’m having for my ocean side snack.  



But I want more than just cherries, so I question a baker sternly as to the ingredients in his croissants.  Butter?  Gluten?  There had better be, or I’m not interested.  He assures me, but it’s really not even close, and shouldn’t even be referred to as a croissant at all.  You win some, you lose some, I guess.

After my snack, it’s time for a walk on the pier.  It’s got everything – a roller coaster, boa constrictors, musicians, a Ferris wheel, and if I want, I can even take a trapeze lesson!





I am actually quite tempted, but at look at my watch tells me I don’t have time if I want to get back to Pasadena before the real traffic storm hits.  Even so, no matter what time of day, it seems inevitable that traffic will be at a standstill at some point, and – oh, how quickly caution gives way to impatience! – I dive between the lanes just a moment here, a moment there because, well, I can!

Though I have successfully demonstrated my new skills, even a bit more smoothly this time (back through the traffic, back through the gate, vehicles re-juggled like a logic puzzle), my day is not over.
First a hike…

Yep, you yell into this thing and get a spectacular echo.

… then a well deserved dinner!  Polish food is delicious, but not particularly pretty on the plate.  But Polish Polka Restaurant is simply charming, and the proprietors hail from the same town as my Pasadena host.

Not shown: sorrel soup, a little salad, potato dumplings, beef gulasz, kielbasa, pierogi, veggies (actually we couldn't figure THOSE out - corn is definitely not Polish, but no matter) and nice cold beer (Zywiec) to wash it down.  All just fabulously delicious, but the sorrel soup took the prize.

Mission Not So Very Impossible At All (CSA Harvest)

My local Community Supported Agriculture group invited me to write a small article in their weekly newsletter detailing how I used my most recent produce haul.  I thought I’d share it with you, too.

The mission? (I joyously accept!) Turn a bicycle basket of produce into 14 days of sustenance.

The resources at hand?

Belgian Endive, Broccoli, Beets, Collard Greens, Endive, Dill, Fennel, Purple Cabbage.

I have 14 days to complete the task.  (Since I am generally the sole diner at my table,  my weekly pick up lasts me two.  I alternate shares with a friend.)

In the maddening annual scheduling mishap that is the month of February, the heartbreakingly beautiful weather arrives simultaneously with the bumper crop of work we symphony musicians depend upon to finance our leaner months.  Since it’s all I can do to keep up with the notes that arrive with alarming rapidity on my music stand, cooking becomes a call for efficiency. The days of experimentation and creativity are temporarily set aside.  Now is the time to draw upon trusted standards and the contents of my freezer.

I find it a wise investment of time to wash, trim and ogle the entire harvest as soon as it enters my front door.  When you’re racing to get to work by 7pm, you’ll feel quite clever indeed having already checked one task between you and dinner off the list.  Besides, it all fits into the fridge more easily in tidy little packages, the chickens next door enjoy the windfall of trimmings, and even my plants benefit from the leftover bowls of greens washing water.

This week’s delights were dispatched thusly:

Belgian Endive:  Steamed briefly, wrapped in ham, napped with a Sauce Mornay (kitchen-ese for that cheesy saucy goodness one puts on homemade mac ‘n cheese) and run  under the broiler.  If you’ve got your kitchen kung-fu going strong, you can make (and eat) this in 30 minutes.

Purple Cabbage: Great piles of Asian slaw at the ready (toss shredded cabbage with a what’s-in-the-fridge version of Asian dressing:  peanut oil, rice wine vinegar, hot sauce, soy, sesame oil, garlic, ginger, sesame seeds) make a meal when consumed with sandwiches, soup, or the potstickers made and stashed in the aforementioned freezer some weeks ago.

Escarole: Salade Lyonnaise, non?  This biting green is perfectly complemented by the richness of bacon and eggs.  Toss the escarole with warm bacon pieces and a mustardy vinaigrette (make it right in that bacon pan!), top each portion with a poached egg.

Collard and Beet Greens:  Wilt the entire lot of it at once and toss it with lots olive oil, chile flakes and raw mashed garlic. (Dirty Little Secret: I pureé four heads at a time, freeze it, and shave the amount I need off the brick with a paring knife.)  Prepared as such, it’s the foundation of two of my favorite quick meal standards:  pasta, greens and beans (the parmesan goes, I hope, without saying) or heaped atop a cheese melt sandwich.

Broccoli: a simple soup made in the off hours is – ding! – reheated in an instant.  Some serves to replenish the freezer.

Dill:  One big handful in a loaf of no-knead, no effort bread, the other handful in a dill garlic yogurt dip.

Beets: Roasted while the no-knead, no-effort bread was in the oven.  Plunged directly into that garlic dill yogurt dip, leaving a pink streaky sunrise in the bowl.

Fennel: still pending.  I’d like to try candying thin slices, but my schedule will likely insist I mound those thin slices atop a piece of salmon, wrap the lot in foil and bake.  The chopped fronds will find their way into that Sicilian classic: pasta with finnochio, sardines, pinenuts and raisins.  Strange but true.

Over a week to spare, and the refrigerator is stocked with mighty meals!  Mission accomplished, thank you very much!

The Daily Special: Pesto, Anyone?

Completely coincidentally, the day after my pasta post, I became the lucky recipient of this windfall.  Downtown Tucson is quite prolific is seems, as my Armory Park neighborhood provided me with some 20 lbs of Mexican limes two years ago.  No motorcycle was needed for its retrieval, as it was growing just a few minutes walk from my house.

Basil haul, with bonus zinnia! All for the cost of two tickets to Aida, which for me, means free!

 

And if you’re wondering what all that basil looks like after trimming and washing, wonder no longer:

A pile of leaves practically worthy of jumping in.  Autumn under the Tucsonan Sun!

If you're wondering how long it took me to trim, wash, dry (and photograph) all this basil, I'll tell you.  About two acts of Aida. 

I made more than two quarts of pesto last night, which is now stashed in my freezer in little half cup portions.  Winter, I am ready for you!

Recipe (of sorts)
For each time I stuffed my food processor* with leaves, I added a good handful of ground toasted pine nuts,** several cloves of pureed garlic,*** several glugs of olive oil from the bottle (four?  five?), and a pinch of salt (not too much, since the cheese you’ll add later is salty.)  Blend, re-stuff the processor bowl and repeat.  When the bowl is nearly fully of spreadable green goodness, and you’re nearly drunk and from the heavenly scent of basil, add great handfuls of freshly grated parmesan (mixed with romano, if you have it, but if you don't, good heavens, don't let that stop you).  Taste it.  Adjust to your liking (although, honestly, I don’t think you can get this wrong, no matter what proportions you use).  I’ve heard of mashing in soft butter after the pesto is made.  I've never done it, but how could that be wrong?  Eat immediately, or put it in a container and float a thin film of oil over the top to keep it from turning brown.

I really was going to figure out actual quantities for you.  I really was. 

*Prior rant aside, the food processor does a good job in this instance.  Especially if you put the leaves in first, then all the “heavy” stuff on top of them.  But if I’m making just enough for one serving, I’ll revert back to my mortar and pestle.
**I do like the Italian ones better than the Chinese ones.  They’re a different species, I think, but they’re hard to find and harder to pay for.
***Four?  Six? I don’t know how many, since I puree several heads at a time and keep a block of garlic in my freezer. It’s easy to shave however much you need off the block with a sharp paring knife.  That's one of my strategies for quickly getting a decent dinner on the table, but still getting to work on time.

What I did last summer (Hwy 12 Reprise Part One: Starvation Lake via the Mirror Lake Scenic Byway)

I had to forgo my annual June tour this year.  It a damn shame, really, since this is my first summer in Utah with the Ducati, but I had good reasons.  In any case, I guess that gives me the opportunity to write about what I did last summer.   And to think I was feeling bad that I didn’t tell you about summer 2009 until May 2010.

Do you remember my June 2009 tour?  The Kawasaki and I finally struck out to ride southern Utah on our own, to visit beloved Hwy 12.  Hurrah!  I rode in the rain.  And in more rain. And the restaurant was closed.  And then thunder.  And lightening.  And hail.  So, in 2010 I thought I’d give southern Utah another chance.

I had thought there was a lot of snow in the Uinta Range the year before.  In 2010 all the side roads off the Mirror Lake Scenic Byway (which I recently learned is Utah's highest paved road) were unplowed, with several feet of snow on them.  You would have needed a snow blower to camp.  (2011 would prove to be even snowier, as you saw here.)




I love Utah - blue water, red mesas and snow, all in one frame!




I camped my first night at Starvation Lake State Park, about the only established camping anywhere in the area.  Not much to do there in the way of hiking, but it was a fine enough place to put up my feet after a day of riding.  There’s an OHV (Off Highway Vehicle) area in the park, for you dirtin’ folk.



Starvation Lake?  I don't think so!  I was hoping for a dinner invite at the barbecue area, but these fish were heading to proper kitchens in proper houses.  I crunched my dry granola dinner while visions of freshly grilled tender white fleshed perch swam laps in my head.




I didn't feel too sorry for myself.  Dinner plans awaited me further south...

The Daily Special – Garlic Scape Pesto

Because I  get my produce via a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture group), I eat what is grown locally.  This means I have no choice but to dine “in season.”  If it doesn’t grow where I live at the moment, I generally don’t end up eating it.  Well, almost.  My preserving projects are an exception, and, wouldn’t you know it, today happens to be strawberry jam making day.*  It’s jam day only if I stop eating these berries, that is.  Hull one, eat one, hull one – Crikey, this one is way too big - down the gullet it goes…  And so on.

In any case, it stands to reason that a year might pass since the last time I made baby artichokes - sliced thinly, tossed in lemon juice and slowly cooked in an amount of butter only the holder of a French passport would dare use (thankfully I have dual citizenship), until they just start to turn golden on the edges.  I think sometimes I would toss them with pasta, other times sprinkle on a bit of Parmesan Reggiano, run them under the broiler, serve them with little toasts and call them bruschetta.   I’m not exactly sure.  A lot happens in a year, you know?   Soooo, when the baby artichokes came around this spring, and my friend asked me, “How did we make those artichokes last year?  They were soooo amazing,” I said something along the lines of “uhhhhh….” 

I gotta start writing this stuff down.**

My annual arrival in Utah almost always coincides with that of garlic scapes. This is the only place I’ve seen garlic scapes, come to think of it.  Scapes are simply the green shoots that mark the place where a garlic bulb is forming under the ground.  The farmer wacks off the shoot to encourage the bulb, and, somewhere along the line, decided we should eat them.  It was a good idea.

I think I used about half this many to make a mini-food processor sized batch.

You’ve got to slice the garlic scapes up before putting them in the food processor. (So much for saving me the task of washing a knife and cutting board, my frustrating little friend, baby Cuisinart).  Whirl them with some olive oil and grated parmesan (another task I do separately, although I guess you could grate it in the food processor first.  I, personally, will do no such thing with stuff as expensive as Parm Regg).  If you find yourself needing more liquid to make it all go round and round, but the pesto is verging on too oily, add a bit of water.  (This is one of the few recipes where I’m willing to do that.)  A judicious splash of lemon juice would work, too. This spring I didn’t use any sort of nut in the pesto, pine or otherwise, and I don’t think I did last year either.  You certainly could.  But I like it with all its fiery garlicky simplicity.  When you’re done, you’ll end up with something approximating guacamole colored mashed potatoes. 

Although its original destination was pasta (for this purpose, you’ll want to thin it ever so slightly with some of the starchy pasta cooking water), I find myself as often as not, eating it on crackers. Topped with a sundried tomato if I’m feeling fancy.  Or an olive.  It’s a great sandwich spread too.  Uses and variations are limitless.

* That, my friends, is a bald faced lie.  I should say "preserves," since I am using whole fruit.  But I like the word "jam" better.

** You do see the irony here, right?

A Rainbow in My Kitchen

You can’t help but think about color when you’re painting your living room.  Or cooking with beets.  In an orange and cobalt blue kitchen.  All of which I did this week.  My living room walls are now the color of a brown egg.   Brown eggs are anything but plain.  Take a look next time you open up a carton.  Each one varies slightly with differing tones of pink, orange and gold beneath what we think of as brown.   Eggs laid by chickens that actually eat and live as chickens should are a thing of glory. Brilliant orange rather than the pallid yellow of eggs lain by factory farmed (and extraordinarily cruelly treated) laying hens, their yolks always have me oohing and aahing at the electric color they lend to my crepes, my omelettes, my fresh pasta.

I just made a chocolate beet cake.  Yes, a chocolate beet cake.  The ingredients had as much color as an electric blue Suzuki,  a neon green Kawasaki, or, of course, a 1930's lipstick red Ducati.

In motorcycle related news, I’m leaving on a little trip.  When I look at the backlog of blog posts I have half written, I wonder if I’ll ever get around to telling you about it.





 
 
 
 



Roll the credits:

• Beets and eggs compliments of my beloved CSA.
• Beets pureed with my German Wheels.  I can’t believe I ever lived without them.  I don’t need no stinkin’ food processor.
• Recipe compliments of Ross Burden (well almost, I changed a few things), chosen after exhaustive research consisting of perhaps five mouse clicks.   I had my reasons, actually, but I don’t feel like typing out the higher culinary math involved in that decision right now. I’d rather go eat a piece of cake.
• Sour cream ganache (of my own design) not shown.
• Happy Earth Day!  How lovely to celebrate mother nature's edible colors.

A View from the Cockpit

I looked up from my work just now* and this is exactly what I saw.    It made me smile.  And stop to snap a photo.

Today’s CSA haul, in mid-prep.  Every Tuesday is Christmas!  I live in a pretty small house. The music stand is in the bedroom,  and from there I have a pretty good view of the kitchen.

*"Just now" meaning two weeks ago.  Today's CSA pick up reminded me that I wrote this post two weeks ago and never published it.

Gearing up for the long cold winter...

I made my annual trip to Richcrest Farms to can tomatoes a week or two ago (on the Kawasaki.)  You gotta love a top box that fits a case of canning jars!  I'll spare you the details, since I wrote about it here a couple of years ago, but I thought I'd show you my winter rations to date.



Top shelf: Mexican lime curd, prickly pear jelly, pickles, strawberry preserves
Middle shelf: raspberries, peaches, rhubarb
Bottom shelf: tomatoes, tomato juice, apricots

It hasn't been a great year for stocking up.  The fruit in Utah came late, and I had to leave before I could get my cherries and blueberries.  Somehow I didn't get as many apricots as usual, either.  It was a bad year for tomatoes in Arizona, too. For a while, it looked like I'd be buying canned ones for the first time in several years, but I managed to get a few quarts at the eleventh hour.

Soon to be added:  apples, applesauce, and the pate I raved about here.

The contents of my freezer are getting interesting as well, but the freezer is not quite as photogenic as my cabinet.

 My sharp eye noticed some new wheels at the farm.  I wonder which set belongs to Farmer Jim.

Pleasant surprise on the way home from Richcrest:  the ten mile stretch of Dragoon road was completely a-flutter in butterflies!

Next time:  I swear I'll visit the pistachio orchard I pass by each year on the way to the farm.  I'm always worried about that pesky night-time riding constraint of mine.  Word on the street is that this year was a bumper crop.

Local Harvest Indeed!

So this vine appeared in my yard. I have reason to believe it was spawned from the CSA pumpkins my neighbors' children carved for jack-o-lanterns last fall.



So tonight, these...




...became these!




(These babies are at their peak of deliciousness for about 10 seconds, max. One shot only for the photo! You can't exactly let them sit in the heat after picking them, either.)

Delicious!

UPDATE: I was asked to write a little "Guest Blog" entry for the Crooked Sky Farms website. That's the farm that supplies my CSA. I wrote a bit more about these blossoms, and included a recipe of sorts.
Here it is.

The latest harvest...

I didn't get to go riding last weekend (weather and insomnia conspired against me), but here's a bit of that Utah bounty I've been raving about. The pictures aren't great, but you'll get the point anyway.

I canned this "lug" of apricots to console myself when not being able to ride on my day off. I ended up with 11 quarts. Really, I would have had 12 quarts if I hadn't eaten so many in the process. There's that "dreary student apartment" in the background.



I picked about 10 quarts of strawberries from my colleague's garden earlier this month.



Many of those berries became preserves. Man oh man they are good!



Of course, we had to save some berries for strawberry short cake, courtesy of my roommate Nadine. That's a bit of cardamom sprinkled on the top. Nadine serves a generous portion!