I can, can you?

100_3986 cropsmFaced with 45 artichokes, there’s really only one thing to do—pull out the pressure canner, and bottle them up for later.

We thought long and hard before buying a pressure canner years ago—it was expensive, and signalled a whole new level of commitment to preserving than a simple water bath canner.

And then, of course, there are all the horror stories about exploding pressure canners. When the canner arrived, emblazoned with more warning stickers than a case of TNT, it didn’t alleviate my concerns.

But now I can’t imagine being without it. We can preserve so much more of what we grow, and not everything needs to be pickled to be preserved.

Pressure canning changes vegetables—the high pressure and temperature destroys their structure and basically turns them to mush. I wouldn’t want to subsist on pressure canned vegetables.

But our summer soup

LINK provides a burst of summer flavour, and wonderfully convenient instant meals through the winter. A few jars of canned green beans mean we can make our favourite Indian charcharis any time of the year. And canned artichokes add incredible flavour to pizzas, regardless of their texture. We could freeze these things, of course, but especially here where the power goes out with such frequency, having some of our preserved food not dependent on a continuous supply of electricity is a good idea. It also saves room in the freezer for those things that really don’t do well in the canner—berries, corn, peas, and of course the bread and baked goods from our baking days.

 

Cinnamon-Pumpkin Bars

100_3970smI thought it was time for another recipe, and this one is seasonally appropriate for you denizens of the Northern Hemisphere. I made it these lovely bars this week with the very last of the frozen pumpkin from last fall.

This recipe is adapted from a recipe in King Arthur Flour’s Whole Grain Baking. These are one-bowl wonders—incredibly quick and easy to mix up by hand. Something even young kids could manage on their own.

¾ cup (170g) butter

1 cup brown sugar

1 tsp vanilla

¾ tsp baking powder

¼ tsp salt

2 tsp cinnamon

¾ tsp ginger

¼ tsp cloves

¼ tsp allspice

1 egg

1 ½ cups cooked, mashed pumpkin

1 ½ cups whole wheat flour

1 ½ cups raisins or dried cranberries

Melt the butter in a largish bowl in the microwave. Add the sugar and stir. Return the mixture to the microwave and heat until it is starting to bubble. Allow the mixture to cool until it is comfortable to touch.

Beat in the vanilla, baking powder, salt and spices. Add the egg and beat until smooth. Stir in the pumpkin, flour and fruit.

Spoon the batter into a greased 9 x 13-inch pan, and bake 40 to 45 minutes at 180°C (350°F).

 

Hand and Foot

100_3964 smHand and Foot always goes hand-in-hand with food.

Hand and foot is a 4-person card came similar to Canasta, and played with 4 decks of cards. The game was introduced to me by my husband’s family. Indeed, I think it must have been written into the marriage agreement somewhere—will learn Hand and Food and agree to play whenever called upon.

The game is a good mix of luck, skill, and partner compatibility, so it works well as an evening’s entertainment at home or when visiting relatives.

Best of all, it is always accompanied by food—usually decadent and seasonally appropriate food. Cookies in the winter, ice cream in summer, strawberry shortcake in spring or pumpkin pie in the fall.

You might win or lose the game, but you always end happy and well-fed.

Orange cake

100_3918 cropsmI made a new cake today. It was supposed to be the Orange Cake from King Arthur Flour’s Whole Grain Baking. But my husband had just used the last of the whole wheat flour for bread, and since I was going to change the type of flour in the recipe, I made a few other changes…

The result was lovely! Crunchy on the outside and divinely soft inside. It was difficult not to just sit down and eat several slices all at once!

So here’s the recipe in all its untested glory.

2 ½ cups barley flour
1 cup all-purpose flour
2 tsp baking powder
¼ tsp salt
1 cup (250g) butter, softened
1 ¼ cup sugar
4 eggs
1 cup milk
Zested rind of 1 orange

Mix together the flours, baking powder and salt in a medium bowl. Cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy (this will take about 5 minutes). Beat in the eggs, one at a time. Add the flour mixture alternately with the milk. Stir in the orange zest.

Spoon batter into two greased and floured 9 x 5-inch loaf pans. Bake about 1 hour at 180°C (350°F). Remove the pans from the oven and allow to cool for about 5 minutes before turning out onto a rack. Place the rack over a large baking tray, and brush the glaze (see below) over the tops, bottom, and sides of the hot loaves, allowing it to soak in. Cool fully before serving.

Orange glaze:

½ orange juice
zested rind of 1 orange
¾ cup sugar

Put all glaze ingredients into a heat proof bowl and microwave for 1 minute. Stir until the sugar is dissolved. Brush onto cake.

**The crust on these loaves is fabulous! Next time I make these I’m going to bake them in mini-loaf pans in order to increase the crust to interior ratio! They’d probably also be great as cupcakes!

Cut the Cake

DSC_0008 copyThere are many ways to cut a cake, depending on the shape and size of the cake and the occasion. There is a protocol for wedding cakes, and techniques for large sheet cakes (the first time I saw someone pull out dental floss to cut a birthday cake, I was very impressed). There is the all-important first piece for the birthday kid—usually determined by where the most interesting bit of decoration is.

But, for the most part, your average person doesn’t think much about how a cake is cut. We just cut it the way we’ve always done.

But that’s not good enough for some people.

I’ve recently run across two intriguing videos about cake cutting that take the art to a whole different level.

First, there’s the guy who wanted to be able to cut more interesting shapes, without wasting cake, so he designed and built a hexagonal cake cutter.

Then there’s the cake-cutting technique that was actually published in the scientific journal Nature in 1906, that prevents the half-eaten cake from drying out.

Clearly, these men didn’t have enough other household chores to do!

Out of the Comfort Zone—Lavender Cupcakes

100_3879 cropsmAs with everything in life, the only way to grow is to move outside your comfort zone, to push yourself beyond your normal boundaries.

In that spirit, several months ago I photocopied a recipe for lavender cupcakes from a book I checked out of the library.

I had to wait until the lavender was flowering to make them, but today was the day.

I don’t generally like floral flavours, and lavender is an incredibly strong one. The only way I normally use lavender is as a small component of a fresh herb mixture I put on the outside of some of my cheeses. I’ve never used it as the only flavouring for anything.

I was intrigued, but dubious. Would the cupcakes even be edible? Who wants to munch on a lavender flower? Eaten directly, lavender flowers have an overpowering bitter resinous taste.

But then, so does rosemary, and I was won over to rosemary shortbread when my mother-in-law made it for us a few years ago.

I vowed to remain open-minded.

The cupcakes came out of the oven, and I iced them with lavender icing.

With some trepidation, we tried them.

“Peculiar,” said my daughter, a thoughtful look on her face. “Yes. Not bad, just…peculiar.”

I agree. This isn’t a recipe I will necessarily make again, but I’m glad I did it, at least once.

Everyday Cake

100_3796 smI made an ‘everyday’ cake today—a whip-it-out sort of chocolate sheet cake. I normally don’t frost my everyday cakes, but I had a hankering for peanut butter with chocolate, so I looked for a peanut butter icing recipe…and didn’t find one I really liked the look of.

So I tried a new one—a broiled icing—a hot mixture of butter, honey and peanut butter spread on the warm cake and lightly broiled.

“Hmmm…Looks like moth-eaten dragon breath,” said my daughter when she saw it.

“Caramel sludge!” declared my son.

“It looks more like a disease than an icing,” I said.

But the disparaging comments ended when we tasted it—very nutty and not too sweet.

“Pretty good, even if it does look…weird.”

For an everyday cake, that’s really all that matters.

Dinner cheat

100_3792 smOut late today, coming home tired and sporting a headache, I decided to just pull a jar of soup out for dinner.

Then I felt a little guilty about copping out of cooking, and thought I’d make biscuits to go with it.

Then I remembered the pie dough in the fridge (always make extra pie dough when you make it—there are so many glorious ways to use it). Score!

I rolled the dough out as if for a pie, then cut it into shapes with cookie cutters. After I placed the shapes on a baking sheet, I sprinkled them with grated parmesan cheese, and baked them at about 200C (400F) until they were brown and crispy (10-15 minutes…I didn’t really look at the time).

So fun, and so easy!

Throwback Thursday—Kitchen disaster

quiche smI don’t usually talk about my kitchen disasters, but this one was a winner.

Making quiche on a weeknight is always a bit ambitious. You’ve got to make the crust and the filling, and then it has to bake for a good 45 minutes. It’s one of those meals that I need to start at 4.30 pm in order to have dinner on the table by 6.

Often, if I make quiche on a weeknight, dinner is late. This was the case one day last year. I had my heart set on quiche, but got home late. Made quiche anyway, in a mad whirlwind of activity. Finally got it into the oven and cleaned the kitchen. I was feeling good about my effort—dinner would only be 20 minutes later than usual. No problem.

When the quiche was done, I opened the oven and slid out the rack…and the quiche kept coming. It flew out of the oven as though it had been hurled, frisbee-style by some unseen hand. It soared off the rack and onto the floor, where the whole thing, including the pie plate, split in two. Bits of egg and vegetables flew everywhere, and I stared in stunned disbelief. An hour and a half of preparation lay splattered across the kitchen floor. At almost 6.30 pm, I wasn’t going to be making another dinner. What were we going to eat?

Thankfully, Ian sprang into action, heating up a jar of homemade soup from the cupboard. By the time I had the quiche cleaned off the floor, the soup was on the table.

I am now very careful whenever I pull a quiche from the oven…

Mother Hubbard

100_3786 smOld Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard

To get her poor dog a bone.

When she got there cupboard was bare…

 

Mother Hubbard must have had teenage sons.

I never appreciated the appetite of a teenage boy until mine hit that age, but now I feel like Mrs. Hubbard.

My son can eat more than anyone else at the dinner table, then pick at the leftovers in the kitchen as he cleans up. An hour later, he’s hungry for a snack. He can devour a big bowl of peach crisp with whipped cream for dessert, and still need a snack before bed.

He will eat as many cookies, muffins, and scones as he can get away with. He sneaks food when he thinks no one is watching. Dried fruit, crackers, carrots, bread, cheese, nuts…nothing is safe from the human Hoover.

I used to be able to count on four weeks between grocery runs. Now I’m lucky if we make it two weeks before the cupboard looks like Mother Hubbard’s. I’m wondering if my garden will need to be enlarged this year, and I’m thankful I grow so much of our food, and don’t have to pay the supermarket price of feeding this child.

Most of all, I’m thankful I only have one…maybe I’ll bake a cake and take it over to Mrs. Hubbard and her boys…