This Shouldn’t Work

2016-07-06 09.03.42 smOur family is vegetarian, but we don’t go in for veganism. We like our cheese, eggs and milk. A lot.

But sometimes, curiosity gets the better of us.

My husband made hummus the other day, and tried something really weird with the water he boiled the chick peas in.

He made meringues with it.

Yep. Meringues. Who’d have thought.

Turns out, the bean water (call it aquafaba if you want it to sound gourmet) foams up when beaten, just like egg whites do.

The meringues came out crisp, and melt in your mouth just like a meringue should.

There is a slight beany aftertaste to them, but I prefer it to the eggy aftertaste of egg-based meringues. In fact, I dislike meringues as a rule, because of the egg flavour, so these were a real bonus for me. And spread them with lemon curd or Nutella, and that bean flavour is covered up nicely.

Completely crazy, and absolutely wonderful!

If you want to try your own bean-water meringues, there are lots of recipes on line. My husband was inspired by this article and recipe in Slate.

Nutmeg Memories

2016-07-05 09.26.26 smWe were almost out of nutmeg, so I put it on the grocery list.

But finding whole nutmegs here isn’t always easy. I had to go to three different grocery stores before I found one that carried them.

It’s only fair, I suppose, that nutmeg is hard to find here. It grows only in the tropics, and whole nutmegs don’t fit well into the little commercial spice jars.

But there’s not a lot of point in buying ground nutmeg, as the flavour dissipates quickly once it’s ground.

My husband and I were lucky enough to have a friend who did her Peace Corps service in Grenada, where 20 percent of the world’s nutmeg is produced. That’s 20 percent of global production on an island that’s only 349 square kilometres (133 square miles) in size, with a population of about 110,000.

Naturally, we had to visit her during her service. My overwhelming impression was that the island exhaled nutmeg. There were nutmeg trees everywhere, and piles of drying nutmegs along the roadsides. The smell hung in the air and clung to my clothes. It was joined by the smell of mace (also from the nutmeg tree), cinnamon, cloves, allspice, and a wide array of tropical fruits. My memories of Grenada are intimately linked to the olfactory experience.

Since then, I can’t smell nutmeg without being transported back to a white sandy beach, with seawater as warm as bathwater, colourful flowers, and an island that moved in languid tropical time.

Jelly Diagonals

2016-07-02 17.16.26 smLove thumbprint cookies, but can’t be bothered filling a hundred little thumbprints with jam?

Try Jelly Diagonals! Not only are they quicker to make, they look like something special.

I use a recipe from Farm Journal’s Cookie book, but you could use any thumbprint cookie recipe.

Once you’ve made the dough, divide it into four pieces and roll each piece out into a log about 2 cm (Âľ inch) in diameter. Lay the logs onto a baking sheet (two per sheet), and press a channel down the length of each log. I use a wooden spoon handle for this. The channel should be a scant centimetre (3/8 inch) deep.

Fill the channel with your favourite jam, and bake until brown on the edges.

Cut into diagonal slices while still warm. Cool on a rack.

Vegetarian Sloppy Joes

IMG_1389My family loves tofu meatballs, so any tofu I buy usually ends up in spaghetti with meatballs. But I enjoy tofu in many forms. Vegetarian sloppy joes comes in a close second to meatballs for me. This is a winter-friendly recipe, using canned tomatoes and dried herbs, but there’s no reason you couldn’t make it with fresh tomatoes and herbs in season.

300 g firm tofu, crumbled
1 onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, chopped
8 button mushrooms, finely chopped
1 can chopped tomatoes
2 Tbsp paprika
1 tsp smoked paprika
½ tsp ground cumin
½ tsp ground fennel
1 tsp dried basil
1 tsp dried oregano
1 tsp mild mustard
2-3 Tbsp olive oil
salt and black pepper to taste

Sauté the tofu in the oil until it begins to brown. Add the onions and paprikas and continue to sauté until the onion is translucent. Add the garlic and mushrooms. When the mushrooms begin releasing their moisture, add the remainder of the ingredients. Cover and bring to a boil, then turn the heat to low and simmer for at least 30 minutes. You may need to uncover the pot during the last 10 minutes or so to allow some of the moisture to boil off.

Serve on Mum’s Fluffy Buns.

Playing with Fire

2016-06-25 11.56.06There is nothing better calculated to get my teenage son outside than the prospect of fire.

Most weekends, he spends the day indoors reading books or playing computer games. He’ll come out to help in the yard or garden if we ask him to, but as soon as he’s released, he’ll be back inside.

Tell him we’re going to burn off the brush pile, though, and he’s out the door like a shot, and will spend all day pottering around the fire—tossing sticks in, raking coals together, hosing down the grass around the fire to keep it from spreading.

What makes fire so compelling, especially for teenage boys?

Believe it or not, scientists have actually tried to answer this question. Researchers at the University of Alabama found that gazing at even a video of a fire reduced subjects’ blood pressure. The longer they watched the fire, the more relaxed they became. The researchers suggest that the multisensory aspect of a fire focuses our attention and reduces anxiety.

Whether that is simply an outcome of meditation associated with this sensory focus, or an evolutionary response to the social and physical security that a fire was to our ancestors is a matter of speculation.

Fire is, in fact, essential to humans. Our power-hungry brains need the extra nutrition provided by cooked food (about one-fifth of our calories are used by our brain). We can’t grow and develop properly on a raw diet, and human culture never would have evolved without it, so it stands to reason it would be important to us.

So, why are kids so interested in fire—more so than adults?

Researchers at UCLA have studied fire play among children in various cultures, and have concluded that the desire to master the control of fire is common among cultures. This makes sense from an evolutionary standpoint—we need fire to survive, so those able to control it historically did better and produced more children.

In westernised cultures, where open fires aren’t used on a daily basis, children’s interest in fire lasts longer than in cultures where fire is a daily necessity for cooking or heating. They remain fascinated by fire until they’ve learned to master it.

This doesn’t fully explain my teen—he mastered fire years ago, learning to light and maintain a fire in our log burner. But I do think there is an aspect of control that keeps us coming back to fire, especially when we’re young. Fire has incredible destructive power. To ignite that power, then hold it in check to achieve a goal (heating the house, cooking dinner, or disposing of brushwood), is a heady thing, particularly for teens who have so little control over their own lives.

All of which leads me to believe that it’s important for us to teach our kids to safely light and control fires. Research indicates they will play around with it until they learn—it’s an innate need. Better they learn safely than by burning down the house.

I also think that giving kids safe ways to exert control is important for their growing sense of accomplishment and self-worth. There is so much we can’t let them control—they can’t drive, they have to go to school, they can’t leave home—I remember all those restrictions eating away at me when I was a teen, eager to exert myself on the world.

So, yeah, we let our kids play with fire. It’s good for them.

Evaluating the garden year

A jumbo pink banana squash--one of last year's winners.

A jumbo pink banana squash–one of last year’s winners.

The new seed catalogue will be out in a little over a week, so it’s time to consider which new plants did well and which didn’t last summer.

It’s difficult to really evaluate varieties I hadn’t tried before, because last summer was so devastatingly hot and dry, but I got a feel for them by how my tried and true varieties did.

Tomatoes were a bust—all varieties—it frosted extremely late, and then was just too dry. But I did find that one of the new varieties I tried—bloody butcher—was extra sensitive to the neighbour’s herbicide overspray. So that one’s off the list for next season.

Same went for the yard long red noodle beans—they didn’t recover from the overspray until March, and then it was just too late.

The blue corn was preferentially eaten by the rats, and none survived past seedling stage. Doesn’t mean I won’t try again next year, but I’ll need to protect it better.

Jumbo pink banana squash was a winner, though. Not only was it a spectacular plant in the garden (anything that can grow half a metre in one day has my vote), but the fruits were equally spectacular. They have good flavour and texture, too. The only real drawback is that it’s difficult to fit one in the oven, because they’re so big.

The purple carrot, pusa asita, was also a winner, though its germination was spotty, like all the purple carrots seem to be. The colour was worth it though, as the purple goes all the way to the centre.

And the fire candle radishes were fantastic—delicious, spicy, and slow to bolt.

I’m looking forward to the arrival of the new catalogue and the chance to try out some new varieties for the coming year!

Preserving the Harvest

About a third of the harvest.

Gardening is a never-ending struggle against the elements.

Seeds must be stored cool and dry to maintain viability.

Then they need to be kept warm and moist in order to germinate.

But not too moist, or they’ll rot, or damp off once sprouted.

Then the plants need to be nurtured with just the right amounts of sun, shelter, water and nutrients so they will grow and produce. They need to be protected from pests.

With luck and hard work, the gardener can nurture the plants all the way to harvest.

But even once that produce is harvested, a gardener continues to fight—some foods can be canned, dried, or frozen so they keep longer, but others can’t. Or, maybe they can, but they’re better fresh. Or maybe there’s no room in the freezer for them.

It’s about now that these fresh foods begin to show their age.

Members of the onion family—shallots, onions, garlic—are stored as living bulbs. When the solstice is past, they want to grow, so they begin to sprout, even hanging in their riestras in the shed or the kitchen.

Then there are the pumpkins. In theory, some can keep for up to six months or more after harvest. That is, in ideal conditions—cool and dry, sitting on dry straw and not touching one another. I don’t have ideal conditions, nor the space to spread out my pumpkins. They hang in mesh sacks from the rafters of the cool, but damp shed—the only way to protect them from the rats.

Three months from harvest, the first pumpkins are beginning to rot. I discovered them today when I selected pumpkins for a galette for dinner.

Now comes the race to bake as many pumpkins as possible and freeze their pureed flesh before they go bad, and before the freezer is full.

I can fit about eight pumpkins at a time in the oven, unless they are jumbo pink banana squash or musquee de Provence, which only fit one at a time . There are sixty-six pumpkins left in the shed. That’s a lot of baking!

Pear Compote

2016-06-14 18.46.11 smMy husband brought home a bag of pears yesterday. They were dead ripe, and there was no way we were going to be able to eat them all before they went bad.

I filled a casserole dish with peeled and cubed pear, added a few tablespoons of honey and a similar quantity of lemon juice, sprinkled it generously with cinnamon, and baked it for 45 minutes at 190°C (375°F).

The result was intense and lovely. We had it warm with whipped cream after dinner, but there’s plenty left over. I’m thinking it will be perfect on my granola in the morning…

The Care and Feeding of a Cookie Jar

2016-06-12 11.06.35 smThe role of a cookie jar is to be full.

I didn’t fully understand this until I bought a cookie jar for my husband for Christmas. I didn’t realise the responsibility I was taking on with cookie jar ownership.

As with any pet, the cookie jar requires care and feeding. You can’t leave it sitting empty on the kitchen benchtop. It looks at you with those great big eyes, begging for some biscotti or a few macaroons. Maybe some chocolate chip cookies? You might be able to ignore it for a while, but that empty jar will sidle into your field of view, whimper a bit, and rattle its lid.

Next thing you know, there is butter, flour and sugar all over the kitchen. The air smells of cinnamon and cloves. Kids are hanging around waiting for a bowl to lick clean.

An hour later, you glance at the clock and realise it’s time to start cooking dinner, but you have no idea what you’re going to make. But the cookie jar is full, so everything is alright.

Don’t be George Bush: Eat Broccoli

100_4038 smAs the cooler weather finally hits, we slip into winter eating. That means the stored foods like pumpkins and potatoes, but it also means the cool-weather crops, like broccoli.

Broccoli gets a bad rap, and anyone who has ever eaten overcooked, mushy broccoli has my sympathy. But it’s worth giving broccoli a second chance, even if your first experiences with it were less than delicious. Because it can be grown year-round here, it is a staple in our diet.

Broccoli can be good raw, lightly cooked, or well cooked—it’s all a matter of choosing the right level of cooking for the dish. Here are some diverse and delicious ways to eat this maligned vegetable:

Add raw or very lightly steamed broccoli to a green salad.

Dip raw broccoli florets in your favourite cheese dip.

Lightly steam long broccoli spears and serve with butter, salt, and a squeeze of fresh lemon.

Add chopped broccoli to pizza or pasta sauce, or layer it into a potato gratin.

If you’re feeling adventuresome, make a broccoli soufflé—the broccoli, cheese, and egg combination is delicious.

Marinate and grill long broccoli spears.

Roast broccoli florets along with other vegetables in the oven.