Seed Catalogs

Seed Catalogs are here. Now is a great time to begin dreaming about vegetable gardening. As I flip through the pages of my catalogs I find myself envisioning a diagram of my garden and begin visualizing where I'm going to rotate my crops for the oncoming season. Also, now is a good time to read up on new varieties and place your order - most companies offer coupons as an incentive for early orders. Good luck - gardening season is just around the corner.

Talking Turkey

When I moved into my house four years ago I cooked my first turkey. Since then I've learn much about the art of cooking the delicious holiday bird. Here is what I've learned:

14 pound birds cook best. If you need more turkey than that try cooking two birds.

Placing a turkey in a brine for 12 hours is a must. Brining not only tenderizes the meat but adds flavor to create that juicy white meat we all crave. The basic formula for a brine is 1/2 cup to 1 1/2 cups kosher salt for every gallon of liquid. The salt is what changes the cell structure making the meat moist. Liquids used in a brine can range from water to juice to stock to beer. Also spices like your favorite herbs should be used. Whatever your imagination can come up with to add flavor to your bird. The larger the meat, the longer it should brine. 12 hours is good for a 12-18 lb turkey while shrimp need only about half an hour. Also important is to keep the brine under 40 degrees Fahrenheit. If you don't have room in the refrigerator try adding ice to the solution.

The way I brine:

I like to buy a new 21 qt kitchen trashcan each year for my brine because it fits nicely in my sink and will hold the proper amount for the turkey and all the fluid. I buy it new each year just because somehow mine from last year always ends up getting used as a trashcan after the holidays - maybe some year I'll learn to keep it hidden away.

The receipt I like to use for my brine I got off of foodnetwork.com. It is a great receipt by Alexandra Guarnaschelli though I've made a couple of substitutions because I didn't have 2 cups of honey on hand so I used 1 cup of honey and 1 cup of brown sugar; I also added a cup of red wine. And I baked my bird according to the Butterball directions instead of the 350 degrees Alexandra recommends.

Ingredients

• 6 quarts tap water
• 1 pound kosher salt
• 1 cup molasses
• 2 cups honey
• 1 cup soy sauce
• 1 tablespoon dried red pepper flakes
• 1 tablespoon dried sage
• Large bunch fresh thyme
• 2 heads garlic broken into individual cloves, unpeeled
• 5 pounds ice cubes
• 14 to 18-pound turkey, cleaned, innards removed
• 1 pound unsalted butter, softened
• 2 lemons, zested

Directions

In a medium pot, bring 3 quarts of the tap water to a boil over medium heat. Put the kosher salt in a large bowl and slowly (and carefully!) pour the boiling water over the salt. Stir to blend.

Add the molasses, honey, soy sauce, red pepper flakes, sage, thyme and garlic to the salt and water mixture. Stir to blend. Add the remaining 3 quarts of cool water. Add the ice to a cooler or bucket large enough to hold the brine and the turkey. Pour the brine over the ice and use a large whisk to blend all of the ingredients.

Submerge the turkey, breast side down, in the brine. Make sure the cavity of the bird fills with the liquid as you are submerging it. Cover the cooler and allow the bird to sit in the brine overnight or for about 12 hours.

Remove the bird from the brine and dry it thoroughly with thick (absorbent) kitchen towels. Take care to wipe inside the cavity as well. Discard the brine. Whisk together the butter and the lemon zest. Gently lift the skin covering 1 breast of the turkey and spread half of the butter right on the meat under the skin. Repeat with the other breast. The butter will add extra moisture and richness as the bird roasts.

Buttering the bird is a step that is well worth the time.

I also like to use Martha Steward's Cheese cloth technique where I submerge a clean cheese cloth in herb-seasoned olive oil and then place over the bird after arranging the turkey in a roasting pan fitted with a rack. The cheese cloth not only helps add flavor to the turkey's skin but provides a place for the baste to sit each time the bird is basted.

Basting is also an important trick for creating that perfect turkey. I like to baste my bird every half-hour. Using an electric roaster make this step much easier since all I have to do is lift the lid and baste instead of open the oven - remove the heavy pan - baste and replace back in the oven.

Roast until the internal temperature of the turkey taken from the thickest part of the thigh reads 170 degrees F on an instant-read thermometer, about 3 1/2 hours. Remove the turkey from the oven to a cutting board or serving platter and tent with foil. Allow to rest for 15 minutes before carving and serving so that the juices will remain in the turkey otherwise all the work you've put into brineing and basting will be lost on the platter.

A Loving Home

After posting a blog dedicated to Channeling Emotion on The Writer's Vibe site, I decided to follow my own process and 'cleanse' my negative energy. I set my thoughts to the NPR's, Three-Minute Fiction, writing Format and here's what I came up with:


Some people swore that the house was haunted. I preferred it that way. I caused it to be so.

I over-saw the construction myself, picking out every detail from lighting to specific wood-grains. My husband's business often kept him distant for days but I didn't mind creating on my own. I rather enjoyed the process.

We moved into our home that autumn bringing with us our treasures, our most precious being our three year old son. We all adored the house. All my hard work yielded rewards even beyond what I could have imagined. We filled the rooms with our love and laughter. Our house was more than a home, it was family.

Then came the night. Alone I slept in our over-sized bed soothed by the summer noises of crickets and frogs but something awoke me. I lay still - listening.... My peripheral vision caught the figure looming at my side. The taste of leather filled my mouth as his hand clamped over my lips smothering my scream.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be, lady." The reek of alcohol expectorated from his breath as his whiskers tore at the delicate skin of my cheek.

Vomit rose to my throat. I couldn't breath. I felt my body quiver.

My son screamed from his adjacent room. Dear God there was more than one of them. I had to save him. He was just a baby. Think! But all my thoughts were fog. Just think of something!

Tears burned my eyes. I was paralyzed - useless. What were they doing to him? My mind was crippled by self-inflected images.

Then the man in my son's room shouted. The man's voice shifted into a scream before pinching off into silence.

I felt my assailant stiffen. He stared at the doorway gazing at something he knew was impossible.

"Who the hell are you?" His bravado finished in fear. He raised his arms to defend himself but his attempt was in vain. His body dropped with a lifeless thud to the floor.

I sat up as my son's footsteps pattered down the hallway and into my arms. We embraced, returning love and nothing was ever the same again after that.

The Irrisistible Iris

The other day, my neighbor brought me a large box of irises. She had been working in her garden, performing her annual autumn clean-up and realized that her lovely iris bed was in need of dividing. Thankfully, she'd remembered how much I had admired her beautiful heirloom blue plants that summer, and thus, gave me her abundance to plant and share as I desired.

Pictured on the left is another heirloom variety. These dark purple plants were dug from my grandmother's backyard and sent to live with me when I purchased my first house. They have traveled with me through two moves conveying warm memories of my past.

In a not too distant past, dividing and sharing plants was the sole method of acquiring flowing plants. Women usually ran the household and had to use their small budgets to purchase vegetables and other edible plants in order to feed their families. But even in tough times, people recognized the enjoyment a well tended flower garden can emit. In need of beauty and peace, these crafty pioneers devised a way to spread and share the limited resources. The better your social network, the fuller your garden; just imagine strolling through your yard where every plant has a story - a wedding gift or - a house warming present - something passed down from a favorite aunt.

In today's world we are bless with an abundance of material items, packaged and available 24/7, however, the simple methods of gardening can still be found. Neighbors, family members and gardening clubs are all excellent places to swap and share those favorite perennials. Next year, as my lilies will be in need of dividing, I plan on returning the favor. Plus, the box of irises I received had too many plants for the area I intended to plant. So with gardening tradition in mind, I passed the box on to our newest neighbor who was beyond delighted to receive something to plant in her vacant dirt lot. I also selected a couple choice plants and shared them with ladies from my work.

As you ready our flower beds for winter, check to see if perhaps some of your plants can be divided and shared. I challenge each of you to expand your gardening network this autumn and help keep the practices of old alive amongst today's society.

Picking My Way to Autum

A crispness has hung in the air these last few mornings, announcing the approach of fall and that means it's the beginning of apple season. September is the best time to pick my most favorite of all apple varieties: Honey Crisp. I fell in love with these firm, crunchy yet juicy apples years ago. Their sweet-tart flavor makes them a great choice for turning into caramel apples but my favorite way to enjoy them is sliced with peanut butter or solo allowing their one-of-a-kind flavor to liven my mouth.

So with apples on my mind, my niece and I set out to our local orchard and picked our first round of Honey Crisps. Not only did my four year old enjoy walking about the orchard and seeing where food comes from but by picking the apples ourselves we were able to save money - the one thing about Honey Crisps is that they tend to be more pricey than other apple varieties.

With our two bags full of apples (thankfully Honey Crisps have a long shelf life) I was ready to leave but my niece remembered that we'd picked raspberries the previous year. We'd used the flavorful little berries to make some of the best jam I've ever produced and hoping to replicate the experience we filled our little white bucket with raspberries. I believe that the jam was exceptional because, by picking your own berries, we acquired an array of ripeness. I've leaned that the over-ripe berries have a higher sugar content while the under-ripe have a greater amount of pectin. Both types give flavor and texture to the jam. While a good ripe red berry is desired, don't be afraid to throw a handful of the others types in the bucket.

For apple and raspberry recipes, find links to my favorite cooking websites posted at the bottom of my blog page.

Simple Things

My four year old niece picked me a bouquet of wild grass and sweet clover flowers for my birthday. Besides the touching sentiment, the bouquet possessed a simple charm that showcased the beauty of prairie grasses. Having taken botany in college, I've long appreciated the diversity of the tall grass prairie yet never considered using it to create visual art, but the lines and textures in the bouquet has left me pondering new ideas. In a world where everything is so commercialized and prepackaged, it was nice to still find a simple touch of love.

Coconut Candy

Stuck with a coconut that my four year old niece coerced me into purchasing, I began to dream up delicious ways to use the white flesh.
I began by shredding it from the shell with a microplane fine grater.
Next I placed a thin layer upon a jellyroll pan and toasted it under the broiler.
As it toasted I let my niece grind the almonds
I melted about two cups of marshmallows with two tbsp of butter in a sauce pan.
In my Little Dipper crock pot I chopped six blocks of Ghiradelli dipping and candy-making bars, double chocolate.

When the marshmallow was melted I added about one tsp. of coconut and vanilla extract,
the almonds
and the toasted coconut.
I greased my hands and rolled the mixture into bit sized balls
and allowed my little helper to dip them in the chocolate.
And of course we added a chocolated covered almond to the top of each piece.

Store in an air tight container in the fridge.

Culture Collision - Fajita Fried Rice

Noticing a handful of leftovers in my fridge, I decided to cross food cultures, and in a stroke of culinary inspiration, I created what I'm now calling Fajita Fried Rice.

I started by cooking one cup of Jasmine Rice in a pot. Then in a skillet I heated olive oil and saute about a 1/4 cup of onion.

I took one grilled rib-eye stake and two grilled pork chops which were left overs and sliced them into thin strips and saute in the hot oil. I added coconut milk (only because I didn't have any broth or white wine) to help rehydrate the meat. I seasoned with taco seasoning and garlic.

I placed the meat mixture in a bowl and set aside. Wiped out the skillet and added more oil and onion before adding rice, soy sauce and two eggs (just a basic fried rice).

Then to the fried rice I added about 1 1/2 cup of grilled corn cut from the cob (also left overs) and fresh sliced roma tomatoes. Combine with meat and warm and serve.

I think this is one dish we will be making again - my whole family sure enjoyed it.

Roots

Last weekend I returned to my genesis. I know they say you can never go home but then 'they' must not have grown up in Western Nebraska. Though I've been home many times before, this trip seemed magical from the start. This year's abundant rainfall bathed the canyons and the prairies with varied hues of greens. A spectacular transformation from the traditional tawny tones of late July. The world felt alive and I was honored to be amongst it.

Returning to my roots, I helped my family reap the bountiful rewards of wheat harvest. Well, actually, my participation was limited to documenting the event with my Nikon D90. I’d forgotten how hot and exhausting Western Nebraska’s harvest sun can be.

Through the lens of my camera, my childhood appeared. Sights I’d long forgotten and perhaps never truly appreciated, overwhelmed me with pride and sentiment as I captured frame after frame. I love my camera. It was my Christmas gift from my husband - his attempt to bring me into the digital era. In fact, my Nikon D90 is so wonderful that I returned my Minolta to my mother. Which was like giving up an old friend since my mother had given me the Minolta my freshman year of high school. So many memories. Yet, my Nikon and it’s technology is far superior and I knew it was time for the Minolta to find another owner - one who’d use it and appreciated it.

My past came full circle when I visited my Grandmother. She deemed me responsible enough to pass on some of the family heirlooms. The first being a quilt that my grandfather’s mother had made. As I ran my fingers across the simplistic pattern, I was rooted in family history - to know that my great great grandmother had lived - had touched - had created this beautiful quilt. Then my grandmother gave me my ancestor’s ceramic bowl. Grandma told me how the bowl had come from Pennsylvania to Genoa Nebraska by covered wagon and that when the pioneers where forced to throw items aside to lighten the load - my relative refused to give up her decorative bowl. I guess I come by my stubbornness honestly. As with the quilt, the bowl is simple. A mark on its bottom reads ‘Homer Laughlin’ made in USA and I plan to research deeper into the bowl’s history and the Burkholder’s of Pennsylvania. As for now, I am satisfied with the harmony of my life.

Two Pages a DAY

I am blessed to have several lovely gardens grace my five acre home, however, I've been so busy as of late that much of my beloved gardens have been maintaining themselves. No where is this more evident than the rows of sugar and snow peas that have gone unpicked and hang past their prime from the garden fence. Where did spring go?

Likewise, my writing has fallen upon neglect. Today I vow to write my two pages a day as was recommended by Mark Sarvas in his class: Getting Started; Writing the First Novel. I know that like my peas, even if the two pages seem like they don't fulfil their intended place in my second novel - seeds can always germinate from those unwanted pages. So often I have found that random scene written for fun can later be developed and placed in the most unimaginable spots of my stories. Never never never erase anything you write.

And as for my peas, I will let them sit on the vine until they dry, pick them, shell them and store them in the garage overwinter and they will grow into fine peas again next year.

Corn bread BBQ

Smoke hung in the air but it wasn't from fireworks this Independence Day. My husband was hard at work smoking six racks of ribs over his cherry wood fire. In the kitchen, I was dashing like a mouse trying to create the perfect sides to accompany his main course. With ease I whipped up some of our summer favorites, and then, I turned my attention to baking corn bread. Though my mama is from the south, I have always preferred the sweeter tasting 'Yankee' corn bread. Upon discovery that I only had one box of 'Jiffey' corn muffin mix and no true idea of how many people my husband had invited - I pulled out one of my recipes (which I've make before) and began to mix the ingredients together.

Corny Corn bread
1/2 c unsalted butter, softened
3 large eggs
1/3 c granulated sugar
1/2 c plain yogurt, preferably Greek (I didn't have enough yogurt so I used 1/4 c Greek and 1/4 sour cream)
1 cup corn, fresh, frozen or canned (I omitted this ingredient)
1 tbsp baking powder
salt
1/2 c corn meal
1 1/2 c all purpose flour (which I experimented with)


My first adaptation came when I varied from the instructions by omitting the 1 cup of corn. I've found in the past - though good - the corn kernels age the muffins quickly and since I might be stuck with left-over muffins, I wanted to make sure they stayed tasting fresh for days.

When I spooned the mixture in the muffin tins, I was amazed at how thick the batter was. They baked with beautiful high peak tops but were as dense as pound cake. So for my next batched I cut back on the amount of flour, figuring that since I was omitting the corn, I needed to cut out some of the dry ingredients. I was distracted by an emergency my husband issued and later realized that on my second batch I only added 1/2 cup of flour. These muffins baked with flat golden brown tops and were the driest of all the batches.

My final batch which ended up being my favorite batch, I added 1 cup of flour. These muffins, however, didn't peak as pretty as the first batch and lacked the smooth shinny tops of the second batch, but they were moister and had a very pleasant texture.

I'm not 100% satisfied with even the third batch so I will probably continue the search for the right corn bread muffin recipe before placing it in my cherished recipe box of favorites.

The barbecue was wonderful. Surrounded by family and friends, everyone brought their favorite dishes. My large kitchen filled beyond capacity and I over heard several comments towards the enjoyment of the corn bread. The poor weather may have ruined our planed firework display but we still celebrated like true spoiled American. Thanks to all the men and women who've served this mighty country.

A Challenging Life

Like so many others, the word 'perfection' haunts me. I strive to reach it daily not truly knowing what it is or how to achieve it. Yet, I won't settle for less. Here is my blog showing my struggles and my hopeful successes. I don't need to be perfect but I must try to ascertain it.