The More You Know... (ding ding ding Ding)

Did you know that chiles cross-pollinate? Professional farmers will plant differing chile species miles apart, to prevent the bee population from contaminating the next season's seeds. Here's how we planted ours:

The one in back is Cayenne, the front one is Serrano. This should make for some interesting experimentation next season.

Other pics from tonight's garden -

Jalapenos:


















Beans:


















Also took pics of lettuce and radishes, but they suck, so you'll just have to wait in rapt anticipation 'til a later time.

Moonshining 101

Hey, kids!
Wanna make a still??
It's super easy!

Step 1) Get yourself a LARGE pot with a domed lid. Like one you'd use for canning.

Step 2) Put something in the center to elevate the receptacle for your distillate. I used a brick wrapped in cling wrap.

Step 3) Pour whatever you want to distill around the platform. In this case, it was a couple of quarts of rose petals barely covered with some tap water.



Step 4) Put a receptacle on the elevator (pyrex measuring cup, ftw) .


Step 5) Put the lid on upside down (handle facing downward), and let the liquid come to a boil. As soon as it boils, reduce the heat to a simmer, and - here's a key point - dump some ice on the "top" of the lid. This is majorly important. The simmering liquid vaporizes and hits the top of the closed container. The ice cools the vapor, which runs down to the inverse dome's tip and drips into the waiting receptacle.


Keep an eye on it, replacing the ice as needed. Taste it every twenty minutes or so, for quality/quantity control.

At the end of an hour, I had about three cups of distillate (otherwise known as rosewater). You can use this on your face as an astringent, on your hair for a perfume, or as an ingredient in cooking.

For example, this gorgeous snack of orange slices with rosewater and pistachios:

Necessity's a Mother.

It may come as a surprise to some people, but when I was young I was considered a picky eater.

I'm not sure why. I think it may have had something to do with being a ballerina since age three, thereby being peripherally raised in a culture where eating was discouraged. And/Or being stuck in an eight-year peanut-butter-&-jelly rut during my elementary/middle school years.

Nowadays, I'll eat anything not related to cognitive, digestive, or reproductive functioning. Although I might eat fois gras if it was put it front of me. And hot dogs in natural casings are awesome. Has anyone had a brain sandwich? I hear there's some fest around here that specializes in them...

I'm getting off track.

My point is that if I weren't now an adventurous eater, I would have never co-invented bacon-topped, peanut-butter-iced, dark chocolate cupcakes (hella good), nor would it occur to me to try herbed goat cheese on top of brownies (rather like a chocolate cream cheese danish - also yummy), or even blackberry jam on garlic texas toast (what would my life be like without you??).

In that vein, I happened upon:

Black Bean, Banana Quesadillas

C'est tres yummy.

Building on the Caribbean combo of plantains and black beans, I fashioned this combo out of laziness and hunger a few years ago, having nothing in the house to eat but some left-over black beans (cooked as mentioned in "Huevos Whatevers"), a banana, a few flour tortillas, some hot sauce, and a slice of provolone cheese.

It has since become a favorite dish.
It's possibly the best thing ever.


Smear some prepared beans on a medium flour tortilla, and top with one half of a banana, sliced. On top of that, sprinkle a light portion of shredded mild, white cheese, and top it off with another tortilla, also smeared with beans. Fry in a well heated skillet prepped with butter or oil until crispy on both sides and the cheese is melted (about five mintes per side). Served sliced and topped with a hot sauce that's not too vinegary (I use Hot Cock Sauce. For visual reference, check out my hot sauce cabinet).

^
Too much hot sauce, perhaps?
...Never!!

Strawberry

Yesterday I had a strawberry for the first time in my life.

Straight off the plant, perfectly red-ripe all the way through, and one of the most flavorful things I have ever put in my mouth. It was a little explosion of sweet-tart utter strawberriness.

Why didn't anyone tell me these things weren't supposed to taste like cardboard?

Candied Bacon

Hey.
See that up there?
It's candied bacon.

I can't stop eating it.

It's like I've done something wrong and against nature, and I'm being rewarded for it.

This concept is nothing new for fans of bacon or for adventurous cooks, but this is the first time I've attempted it. What you do is, you take half a pound of bacon and a bowl containing a cup or so of brown sugar. One at a time, you put the pieces of bacon into the bowl, and you press the brown sugar onto each side of the meat. (This is rather like trying to make a pancake out of moist sand at the beach, except in this case the sand is brown sugar, and it doesn't quite work because there's bacon in there somewhere.)

Then you place the strips of bacon side by side on a cooling rack, set the cooling rack on top of a cookie sheet, and put the whole thing in an oven preheated to 350 (fahrenheit) for around forty minutes. (Rotate halfway through cooking and keep an eye out for burnation.)

Take it out of the oven, pry it off the rack with a crow bar, and let it cool on wax paper. The result is rather like those sugared almonds you get at state fairs and such, but with more bacon-y goodness.

And, you know... It's BACON.
So you can't just let it sit around forever...

Happy National Hamburger Week!!

^
Here, my two eldest nieces much enjoy celebrating the gastronomic occasion with burgers and pickles. Or they could've been happy to celebrate their Uncle Bub's birthday at a backyard picnic. It's kind of hard to tell...

This after-work event was a riot, with the necessary burgers and dogs, potato salad, mac and cheese, ice-cold beer, and long-forgotten family anecdotes. We sat in the back yard for hours, with the threat of thunderstorms ebbing and waining, periodically nibbling honeysuckle blooms and keeping an eye on the impending chaos.

We've decided kids are like naturally-occurring coke addicts. I swear they were turning into Raptors by the end of the evening, giving us ravenous hugs and screaming their good-byes as we drove down the street.

(And yes, it really is National Hamburger Week.)

And, Now - Presenting:

Strawberries!

Really?

This has me a bit panicked, to be honest.

There's tons of fruit coming up, and one can only do so much with garnish and cobbler. I foresee lots of jam in my future. I've never canned/jarred anything with purpose before, so... this shall be an adventure!

baby peaches

This is the first spring we are privileged to spend in our house. The previous owner was a Professor of Agriculture, as well as an avid gardener. Thus, we find we have who-knows-what in our yard, including some weeds that could probably eat you alive if they were permitted to thrive somewhere in South America.

In the mix, however, are a large number of fruit-producing things, like a peach tree which most neighbors had declared dead, or long-since cut down. It is neither, and we are excited! (I hope you can see the small green fruit in the pic above. It's like a Hidden Object picture. How may baby peaches can you find?)

I don't even like peaches, particularly, but I am excited to pickle them! I mean, eat them. Fresh. Off the tree, with no vinegar involved...

Also rushing to the finish line: baby raspberries!!!

Cinco!

Happy Cinco de Mayo, everybody!

In recognition, for dinner I had left-over pasta marinara accompanied by left-over roasted root vegetables, roasted mushrooms, and roasted garlic. Matt had a bowl of cereal. How very celebratory of us.

I had every intention of making Huevos Whatevers tonight, but somehow that didn't happen. Don't tell anyone I told you this, but throwing something together that's even slightly multi-step is really hard after a full day of work.

Here is a recipe for Mojo de Ajo (courtesy of the lovely and talented Rick Bayless, just like every other mexican recipe we make). It's good for everything. Seriously.

MOJO DE AJO
(makes about 3 cups)

Ingredients
4 large heads garlic:

OR 10 ounces (about 1 3/4 cups) peeled garlic cloves
2 cups fruity olive oil
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup fresh lime juice
*optional: chile flakes, added at the same time as the lime juice. Optional recipe calls for 1/2 tsp. Adjust as needed.

Directions:

Heat the oven to 325˚.

"Break the heads of garlic apart, then mash each clove (a fist against the side of a knife is what I do) to release the clove from its papery skin; if using already-peeled garlic, scoop the cloves into a heavy recloseable plastic bag and use a rolling pin to mash them slightly.

Stir together the garlic, oil and salt in an 8x8-inch pan (make sure all the garlic is submerged), slide it into the oven and bake until the garlic is soft and lightly brown, about 45 to 55 minutes. Add the lime juice and return to the oven for 20 minutes for the garlic to absorb the lime and turn golden brown.


Using an old-fashioned potato masher or large fork, mash the garlic into a coarse puree. Pour the mixture into a wide-mouth storage container and refrigerate it until you’re ready to enjoy some deliciousness. This mojo will keep for up to three months in the refrigerator as long as there's enough oil to keep the garlic covered."

As I said, this is fantastic for anything. Cook with it, use it in a dressing, drizzle it, breathe it. It will become your best friend, and you will be grateful.

Now, go have another Margarita!