Tag Archives: food

Holiday Shopping Zaniness

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Yesterday afternoon I had the bright idea to go get some food so we are ready for all our holiday baking and cooking and general whipping-up of foodstuffs, and to pick up some stocking stuffers while I was out.  I could head to Dorset Street and get everything done in one shot since so many stores are so densely packed.  It would a quick and efficient trip.  Good idea.  Didn’t happen.

I crossed the Maginot line of Kennedy Drive and was soon battling traffic.  Cars were packed in every lane, both ways.  I was stuck.  Even if I could turn around, I would be inching along.  So I kept going.  I listened to a variety of odd holiday songs (Hanukkah in Santa Monica, Steven Colbert’s new holiday tribute) and laughed and jotted down some songs to download on i-Tunes.  Eventually I made it to the supermarket.

Of course, I had to navigate the parking lot (I parked far away so I wouldn’t have to jostle for a spot) then walk across the slush, then elbow through the other food shoppers, then wait in line to pay.  It was holiday zaniness at its best.  The young woman at the register told me it was actually kind of calm compared to earlier.  Like I said, zaniness.

Then I had the idea to go to the mall.  The ice cream would stay frozen in the car.  It was about six degrees.  Hopeully the spinach wouldn’t get too cold.  Normally I spurn the mall–too many people, too much commercialism, too much stuff no one needs in there.  So what was I thinking?  I knew what I was seeking so how hard could it be?

The mall, of course, was jammed.  It was, as always this time of year, overwhelming.  I made only two stops, the first a dud, the second a success.  At Vermont Toy and Hobby I found the two small toys I wanted.  OK, I was looking for three, but I thought it was a pretty good success rate anyway.  I had to wait in line, of course, and their credit card machines were down.  I paid with cash.  Overall, it wasn’t difficult, just mentally taxing.

Two stops to go.  I purchased a slew of stocking stuffers at Healthy Living, then went to Barnes and Noble.  I got a couple of books for the kids, ran into some friends, and hightailed it.  I had most certainly had enough.  Spending time at one of the busiest spots in the state was probably not the best idea.  I did manage to make some gift purchases, but whoa.  As I said a few years ago, never again.

I was gone for four hours.  Normally that would have meant about 40 minutes of driving out and back.  Most of my time was spent in traffic or in line.  Nuts.  But hey, now I can stay in and make the lasagna for which I purchased the fontina that was so hard to find.  I bet it tastes pretty dang yummy.

Thankgiving Dinner

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We headed down to hang with my side of the family for Thanksgiving.  We had a typical Thanksgiving dinner.  The menu included:

  • Turkey ( I abstained)
  • Mashed potatoes
  • Butternut squash
  • Peas
  • Stuffing (made by the brother, vegetarian even!)
  • Sweet potatoes (with maple syrup and cranberries, even I thought this was tasty)
  • Cream of broccoli soup

It was a team effort, with my brother and mother doing most of the work.  After a while we had dessert, with these offerings:

  • Apple pie
  • Chocolate pudding pie
  • Pumpkin pie
  • Vanilla ice cream
  • Chocolate ice cream
  • Whipped cream to top things off

A word about the pumpkin pie:  It was the best pumpkin pie I have ever had.  My brother found a new recipe and my mom whipped it up and it was sweet and creamy and just plain GOOD.  I need to find out how to make me one of them puppies.

It was a fine meal, shared with family.  That is a good thing.  Like all families we have our differences and oddities, but we get along well.  That isn’t true of many families.  So I am lucky.  I am thankful for that.

Dinner Over, Dessert Soon

Dinner Over, Dessert Soon

Tofu Pot Pie

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I just opened the oven and slid in a pie, a tofu pot pie.  For those with eclectic or simply open tastes, this is one good dish.  It was introduced to us by our friends, Spike and Liz, when we visited them a couple of years ago out in Idaho.  We jotted down the recipe on the back of a random page from a transcribed telephone conversation about a land conservation deal, and it has become a staple for us since then.

It took me about an hour and a quarter to put it all together, another quarter hour to clean, and we still have 15 minutes remaining for it to bake.  It can sometimes take two hours from beginning of prep time to pulling it from the oven, but it is worth it.  It is comfort food at its best, with no factory farmed critters in the mix.

Aside from its gustatory pleasures and its ability to satisfactorily fill one’s gut, this pie offers something else.  Whenever I make it I think of Spike and Liz.  They are two of my favorite people and I have not seen them in way too long.  We almost saw them this fall but plans fell through.  Making this pie helps keep them fresh in my mind.  I hope that anyone who reads this has had the fortune to have friends like these.

They are bright, ambitious and set an example of how to achieve.  Yet, despite their ambitions and achievements, they are both humble, enjoy simple pleasures and are accepting of even those with differing viewpoints.  Neither of them is content to accept anything without asking first, Why is this this way, and is there a better way?  They probe the mysteries of life and take what comes, even if it is difficult or tragic, with grace.  I love them both.

So in this season where the harvest is now in the root cellar, I sit in the dark for dinner and enjoy with my family a meal whose recipe I learned from some high quality individuals.  And I think of them as I prepare it and as I eat it.  Here is to Spike and Liz, for sharing, for teaching me, and for making the world a better place.

Happy pie!  May you have such meals as this.

What’s Up, Winter?

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It was so in the twenties today.  And windier than a room full of bean eaters.  Except it was a cold wind.  It was like way too January.  What happened to Thanksgiving?  We haven’t gotten there yet and it feels like Christmas is long past.

My grandmother used to talk about ice skating on Thanksgiving when she was a kid.  Granted that was in the 1920’s, not exactly a long time ago in geologic time, but most people alive today were not around then.  It is pretty much never that cold at Thanksgiving here in Vermont.  And she lived in Connecticut.  Is this a freak year?  Or are we on the way to another “mini ice age?”

I have been reading Nathaniel Philbrick’s Mayflower.  He mentions how the first winter that the Pilgrims spent in North America was relatively mild, even though most of the winters they would experience in their new home would be much colder than they are now.  And they didn’t have central heating.  Or, really, enough food.

What do I have to complain about?  Winter seems to be here already, but we wood stacked and beans in the pantry.  Plus popcorn ready for melted butter.  The only corn the Pilgrims had was what they stole during their first week ashore.  And that weren’t for popping.

The ground is frozen.  Up the road someone plowed the field today.  I’m not sure what that is about.  Frozen chunks of earth are splayed in a line up once and back.  I’m no farmer, clearly.  I just want to get the strawberries mulched, but they are now covered in snow.

We are headed down to Connecticut for Thanksgiving.  Maybe we will get a chance to go ice skating.  Or maybe we will have to be content to hang out inside, with central heating, enjoying a fine meal and, later, maybe lounging on the couch relaxing and listening to the wind.

Popcorn Ready at Last

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Back in June I planted some popcorn. I planted it later than I wanted but the turkeys, and then the crows, had pulled up all of the sweet corn. I was playing it safe. I hung some old CD’s to blow in the wind and that kept the fowl away. At the end of September (the 22nd) my daughter and I picked it and shucked it. It has been hanging to dry since then.

I tried to pop some last month but it did not work well. It was not dry enough. Today I tried again, heating about ten kernels in hot oil. Every one popped. My son helped me peel the seeds from the cobs. He stripped a few of the mini cobs before declaring “I think I’m done doing this now.” I love his honesty.  I picked up the ones he scattered across the counter.

We did not get too much, just over half a jarful, but it is enough for several batches this fall and (if it lasts) winter.  Here are some visuals of the process this afternoon:

What they looked like before removing the kernels

What they looked like before removing the kernels

Naked cobs

Naked cobs

Off the cob

Off the cob

Storage vessel until time for popping arrives

Storage vessel until time for popping arrives

Tractor Chores

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I managed to get out on the tractor early this morning and get the field mowed. Well, not all of the field, but most of it. I managed to get stuck twice and had to use the bucket to pull myself out of the mud. Maybe 15% of the ten acres is not cut–too wet and mucky for this tractor.

My little boy came with me while I was out there. He wanted to come along so he sat on my lap. The tractor was at the edge of the field, close to the house, and needed to be filled with gas. I decided to drive it around to the garage, where the 5-gallon talk sat. Five gallons of diesel isn’t easy to lug too far. So he sat on my lap and steered us over there.

I was impressed with his steering ability. Maybe all that ride-on car/truck riding really has paid some dividends. He got us around the house without running into the clothesline or the wood pile or the car. I had to guide him a couple of times but really, only a couple of times. If he could reach the peddles he could almost do it himself.

I also turned the compost pile again and we hauled the old fence posts away. We took down a rotting fence this spring and all the posts were hiding, rotting, in the tall grass. We loaded the bucket and I drove them to the far edge of the field. I stacked them in hopes that some birds or other critters will shack out there while they take a few years to crumble. Maybe that is a bad idea and we will attract foxes who will eat our future chickens, but we have no real plans to get chickens so we are safe for now.

I am thinking we can get one more job in before we give the machine back. We have some dents in our driveway that could use some filling; fill them, smooth them, pack them and maybe we will not have to bump our way down the driveway so much. It shouldn’t take long.

I need to get the wood in still and I need to get cracking on making that pie. I should have enough time this afternoon to get to the latter. Maybe I can do some stacking while the pie bakes. But only if I get to it.

Ready to Get to Work, Now the the Weekend is Here

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I had a busy week. I put in a few long days. I made phone calls at night, did paperwork after the children went to bed, and rose early to get letters out. I am ready to put down the job for a day or two. Unfortunately, I will have to do some work this weekend to make some deadlines. Actually, I already missed the deadlines but I want to be less late.

We did not finish mowing the field last weekend and the tractor still sits at its edge, waiting to be fired up. The garden is only partly turned. The wood pile is smaller than a week ago, but remains at the edge of the lawn. The front storm door still needs new glass. The compost piles need some work.

So I have plenty to do this weekend. I look at the wood pile every day and it calls to me that it wants to be inside, out of the rain. I need to listen to it. And we need to get the tractor back. It ain’t ours you don’t you know. With the dump run, a trip to the market and the cooking I’d like to do (my boy requested waffles for breakfast, and we need to use those apples in a pie) I will be busy.

How am I going to fit the running back in? I will start rising early next week and getting the miles in. I am hoping the week isn’t as busy as this one, so I can give up a little sleep. Once winter sets in those outdoor projects either need to be done or need to wait until spring. Then I will have some time to run. I will just need to stay motivated once the air gets icy.

We will get the field cut. I will get the wood in. Maybe I will get the garden dug and mulched. I might even manage to come close to those deadlines. I imagine I will do all right if I can rustle up some hot coffee and some waffles. And if I can bake up a pie, I can probably even get that broken storm door fixed.

Pie and Kites and Rain

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So we had this fall/harvest/Halloween shindig this afternoon and it was a blast. I spent about four hours in the kitchen making soup and pie. The soup was pretty easy and relatively quick. The pie took a while but I managed to make two of them, apple of course.

The first pie was a recipe from a cookbook (or most of a recipe). It has cheddar cheese right in the crust and the usual truckload of butter, a dash of cinnamon, vanilla, sugar. I used mostly Macintosh apples but I also added a bit of Honey Crisp, since we had a few of those hanging around the house. It turned out well, as it has for me in the past.

I made the second apple pie with a crust recipe my mother gave me years ago. That crust contains vinegar. The pie was all Macs this time but I spiced it differently, with a little cinnamon but also with cardamom. It, as well, turned out to be a winner.

I made both crusts by hand, literally. Instead of using the food processor shortcut, as I often do, I worked the dough with my fingers. This makes a far better crust, even better than using one of those pastry cutter jobbers. These crusts, while different, were flaky and tasty. They held up but could be peeled apart. They were crispy and sweet. That worked for me.

Once the soup and pies were consumed and the children were rounded up and the conversations ended and the gang took off, I did what any party host does. I cleaned. But then my son suggested we go fly kites, so I dropped the sponge and headed outside.

The wind was blowing from the southeast and it was strong. We got a couple of kites in the air for a little while, but the wind was fickle. We had a few nosedives. Plus, it started to rain. As the rain fell harder and harder, the wind petered out more and more. I brought the kites inside to dry and we called it good. I hung them in the mudroom. One of them has a long tail, maybe fifteen feet, so I had to drape it over multiple hooks.

Now, after dark, the children tucked into bed, the rain falls hard. They fear the power failing. Before bed they asked if it would go out. What could I say but what I always say? “I don’t know,” I told them. They fell asleep anyway. They sleep to the sound of rain and wind. And I think about having another piece of pie.

Apple Tree

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We inherited an old apple tree when we moved into this house.  The previous owner told us that it never bore fruit.  It blossomed each spring but no apples appeared.  The first fall we were here, a couple of years ago, I pruned that baby good.  I cut lots of wood from it and, behold, we had apples the next year.

We had a lot of apples this fall.  Too many, in fact.  I haven’t gotten the equipment to make applesauce or cider or to can what I might make.  Part of the challenge is that apples are Red Delicious.  They are tasty, but they do not ripen until October.  Maybe in September we will get a few, but we have a narrow window between ripe and hard frost to get to them.  It just doesn’t happen as well as I’d like.

Recently, I was listening to The Splendid Table, a program on Vermont Public Radio.  The hosts were talking about apples, since this is the season, and they dissed the Red Delicious.  Granted, I would agree with them if they were referring to the mushy and sort-of sweet Red Delicious that gets piled up in supermarkets and whose silhouette has become the symbol of appleness.  But the apples on our tree (once they finally get ripe) are way sweeter and juicier than those sad pretenders.  I was sorry to hear them put down a variety in its entirety.  Those fruitists!

We have a flock of wild turkeys that like to hang around here.  These days they can be found late in the day and early in the morning, those crepuscular hours when the light is muted, bobbing about under the apple tree, poking at the drops.  They have gotten a few meals there.  I don’t begrudge them, especially when they snack on the mealy ones taken over by worms.  They can have those.  Plus, those ugly drops keep them from flapping into the branches and taking the good ones.

I will take some time to prune the tree this fall or perhaps in the first days of spring.  We will get more apples next spring I am sure.  What I need to do is plant a couple more trees, give us some species variety, as well as an earlier crop.   It would be nice to count on having some apples in September.  And we should get our hands in a cider press, have a good old fashioned cider pressing party.

That would make those late apples, even the ones that might not offer their full flavor, well worth it.  I don’t care what reputation Red Delicious may have.

Pumpkins on the Railing and on the Table

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We have a dozen pumpkins on the railing of the deck.  These are the fruits, so to speak, of our gardening labor.  I have baked up a few of them so far, to use in muffins and soup.  I made two batches of muffins this past weekend.  One was great, the other flopped.

The flopped batch came from missing one ingredient.  It took me quite a while to realize what it was.  Then I remembered that I forgot the baking powder.  It is great to remember that I have forgotten something.  It is far better than to forget that I have remembered something.  The second batch was the progeny of the flop of the first batch.  I was excited to make these pumpkin apple muffins and then I ended up with these somewhat tasty but way too dense things.  The next batch was a winner.

I also made soup this weekend.  It was part of a simple meal:  fresh bread, fresh soup and apple pie.  The pie was a group effort (my mother and niece worked on that) so the meal was truly a family dinner.  The bread was pretty much dee-lish, if I may say that about my own honey oat perfectly risen perfectly baked warm buttery yeast creation.  And the soup was dang good as well.

My wife and I went out to dinner a few nights ago and had some squash soup that was really amazing.  It just folded into your tongue and wrapped around your taste buds in a teasing caress.  It was hard to get enough of that.  I though I might take some cues from that soup and, while I had no illusions that I would replicate it, try my own version.

My version was a pumpkin (duh!) soup, with cream and honey and cinnamon and sage.  It was creamy and smooth and sweet.  I made a lot but it was consumed, even by two young children and a teenager.  That was accolade enough for me.

There are still many pumpkins left.  I will bake and freeze a few and I will make more bread and more soup.  And maybe another batch of muffins.  We still have a bucketload of apples left as well.  Our oven won’t be idle for a while.