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Friday, July 8, 2011

Green Bean Salad

I know. I know. There is this huge pile of plums I promised to work with... and I am working with them. Furiously.  But I had to take a minute, before showing you the fruits of those labors, to do something else.

Hee hee. Get it? Fruits? Oh, I kill myself.

Ahem.

I don't know about you, but I am getting awfully tired of looking at stuff in jars. Don't get me wrong. I love the stuff, I love the jars. I love how I will have the stuff all year long, and I will have my own little happy healthy version of "fast food." But I may scream if I have to look at one more jar this week. It seems like time for something green.



So, to take a little break from stirring sauce and canning it, I made a green bean salad.

I for one, cannot stomach canned green beans. I also cannot stomach frozen green beans. They somehow manage to retain all of the bitter earthy flavor without keeping any of the fresh green flavor. On the other hand, there isn't much I like better than fresh green beans.

Lucky for me, the AHO box came with an abundance of green beans this week. It also came with this recipe, happily.

This salad is easy to prepare, can be done ahead of time, should be served room temperature, and the limited ingredients do a fabulous job of enhancing the delicious green beans without masking their flavor at all.

Green Bean Salad

1/2 pound green beans, rinsed and ends trimmed
2 Tbsp. chopped walnuts
2 Tbsp. finely chopped parsley
2 Tbsp. sliced green onions
2 tsp. olive oil
1 tsp. apple cider vinegar
1 tsp. brown mustard
salt and pepper

First, steam the green beans until they are tender but still crunchy. Immediately plunge them into an ice water bath to stop the cooking process.

Meanwhile, in a dry skillet, toast the walnuts over medium heat. Toss them frequently, and cook until they are fragrant. Transfer to a small bowl to cool.

Whisk together the oil, vinegar, and mustard. Toss this dressing with the green beans.

Chop the parsley and green onions, and combine with the cooled walnuts.

Top the green beans with the walnut mixture, and add salt and pepper to taste.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

canning apricots

Okay, I think I maybe am going to go insane! But insane in a good way. I think.



Just as I was getting into my apricot groove... a family friend invited us over to pick plums from her tree. Her tree is aching under the weight of heavy ripe fruit. This tree is huge, and has branches and branches and branches of plums. Guess who is the proud owner of a ton of plums?

And so, faced with a huge box of apricots ripening as I watched them, and two big bags of plums threatening to turn to plum substance, I had to act fast. Good grief. The cherries on the counter turned into apricots and the apricots on the counter turned into plums. At some point, I would be curious to see if I remember what the counter looks like! I'm not complaining, really I'm not. I'm very very happy and counting my blessings to have so much fresh fruit coming my way. It just comes so fast.

The apricots are fabulous because they are so easy to work with, but they are limited, too. They are too soft to bake with... they just turn to mush. As I already had apricot syrup and apricot jam, I was looking for something different. Different and easy enough to take care of half of a box right quick, that is. So, I took the rest of the apricots, and canned them. This was the first time I ever canned something whole... usually I turn it into jam or sauce or syrup and then can that.

As it turns out, canning whole foods is super duper easy! I love it! This is considered "cold pack" canning... where the fruit is "cold" (as in not cooked).

All of the good qualities of apricots make them perfect for canning. You don't have to peel them; you just cut them in half, twist the two halves in opposition to each other, pop out the pit, and move on.

If you ever wanted an easy way to try canning, this is it. I promise. All you need is the apricots, sugar and water, some jars, and a big pot.


Canning apricots

First, make your syrup. This can be light syrup (1 part sugar to every 2 parts water) or heavy syrup (equal sugar and water) or somewhere in between. Combine the sugar and water in a pot, and heat until the sugar dissolves. 

Next, fill the jars with apricots. Cut them open, remove the pit, and place them into the jars. You can fit the most if you put them all in cut side down.

As soon as you fill a jar with apricots, fill it up with the syrup. Leave about 1/2" headspace at the top.

Put the lid on, and screw on the band fingertip tight.

Continue until all of the jars are filled with fruit and syrup.

Place the filled jars into the pot of water, and boil for 25 minutes (increasing as needed for elevation... 5 minutes more if you are at 1,000-3,000 feet).

Voila! The fruit that was about to be lost forever is now safely preserved and ready to be eaten at your leisure for months to come. Phew!

And... you guessed it. Lots of plum recipes coming soon!

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

apricot martini

Okay, as promised...

Any time you make fruit jam without pectin, and you skim off some foam while it cooks, you can turn it into a fun little cocktail that you can enjoy to celebrate a job well done.

I learned this little trick from Allison at A Girl*A Market*A Meal. She did it with strawberry jam foam, and I have also done it with plum, orange, and now apricot.

Take your foamy, fruity sweet syrupy stuff that you saved while making the jam and pour it into a cocktail shaker. Add in an equal amount of vodka and a squeeze of lemon. Shake well and squeeze into a martini glass.

If you have enough for two, make a toast with your significant other. If you don't have enough to share, just sit back and enjoy a moment of quiet rest. You deserve it.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

apricot jam

As I mentioned, I happen to have come across a whole big bunch of apricots. After making apricot syrup, I still found myself with almost a whole box of apricots... quickly heading south.

The next thing I decided to with some of them was to make apricot jam. Around here, with three kids who take a peanut butter sandwich to school every day, we go through lots of jam. Actually, I multiplied it out:

               3  kids
     X
                      180 school days
There is never going to be enough jam

So, it is always a good investment to stock the pantry full of jam while the fruit is ripe.

The last few batches of jam that I made included pectin, and so I decided to make a batch of jam without it this time. Why? Because the pectin method was working just fine for me. And if it ain't broke, there is a chance that I am going to break it very soon.

There is a very subtle difference between jam made with pectin and jam made without, but you would probably never be able to tell them apart. The main difference is how long you spend cooking it. Pectin makes it jell up right away, and so if you don't use it, you have to cook it for a long long time while the water evaporates and the fruit's natural pectin is released. You also don't have to remember to buy a package of pectin while you are at the market, or spend the $4-5 that it costs.

At any rate, I went for apricot jam sans pectin. Almost all fruits can be made into jam with just three ingredients: fruit, sugar, and lemon juice. This was no exception.


Apricot jam (makes about 8 half pint jars)

2 pounds of ripe apricots (about 20)
6 cups sugar (more or less, depending on how tart you like it. Mine has a tartness to it, but won't make your mouth pucker by any means) You can't go too much sweeter, though, without running into trouble getting it to set. 
1 tablespoon lemon juice


Wash apricots, slice in half, and remove pit. Chop into bite-sized chunks. There is no need to be precise here; it will all mush up in the long run.

Place the apricots into a large stockpot, along with sugar. Stir well to combine, and bring to a boil. (If the sugar isn't dissolving right away you can add a half-cup or so of water, but the fruit should be juicy enough). Add the lemon juice towards the end of the cooking process.

Let the apricots and sugar boil, stirring very frequently, until the jam is done. There are three ways to see if your jam is done:
1. Check the temperature with a candy thermometer. It should reach 220 degrees (218 if you live 1,000 feet above sea level like I do.)
2. Freezer plate test: Put a plate in the freezer for a few minutes. Pour a little bit of jam onto the plate and put it back in the freezer for a few minutes. If it "wrinkles" and holds its shape a bit when you push on it, it is done.
3. Scoop up a bit with a cold spoon and pour it back in the pot. If it isn't done, it will stream off of the spoon. If it is done, it will "sheet" off of the spoon.

Check out this great website that shows what a spoon looks like with jam "sheeting" off of it, as well as a chart for temperatures and elevations.

Once you have determined that the jam is done, let it cool for a couple of minutes. Skim off the foam that has accumulated on the top. (But save that foam! Tomorrow I'll give you a quick tip on how to enjoy a cocktail with your jam foam while the jars set.)

This jam will keep in the fridge for a few months... but try canning it! If you're like me, you don't have a ton of extra fridge space. And you are going to want to be able to eat this stuff all the way until next year's apricot season. Canning is much easier and less daunting that you think it is.  All you need is some jars, a big pot, and a pair of tongs.

Ladle into hot jars (The jars need to be hot so that the glass doesn't crack when the hot jam is poured in.) Fill each jar to 1/4 inch from the top. Wipe the edges of the jar clean. Place a lid on each jar, and screw on the band until it is finger-tip tight. Place the jars into a large pot of water, and boil for 30 minutes. (for higher elevations, check this chart for processing times). The water level needs to be 1-2 inches above the top of the jars. After 30 minutes, remove from the water using a jar lifter (or tongs). Let them sit, undisturbed for 12-24 hours. You will know if they are properly sealed if you press on the lid and it doesn't give at all.


Monday, July 4, 2011

apricot syrup

When I was growing up, we had a huge apricot tree in my backyard. That tree was legendary among the kids of the neighborhood.

There were more and less productive years for that tree. One year, I distinctly remember heading to the yard, armed with paper grocery bags doubled up (this was before grocery stores even used plastic bags), and accompanied by my older brother, to muck our way through the deep layer of fruit that laid on the ground rotting. We were charged with scooping it up and throwing it away. I can only remember that one year that produced so much fruit. I know there must have been other years that were heavy, and there must have been plenty of years that weren't quite so impressive.

I can't remember ever eating an apricot from that tree, though. What made it legendary wasn't the apricots. It was the. best. climbing. tree. a kid could ever hope for. The tree was pretty huge, as far as fruit trees go. The trunk split into three limbs just about 2 feet off of the ground. Those limbs split pretty quickly, too. Climbing it wasn't any harder than climbing a ladder. Altogether, this meant that at any given moment the tree could be found full of 10 or more kids, ranging in age from just a couple of years old up to teenagers. We even had a dog at one point who would get up to six feet or so into that tree.


Eventually, if I remember correctly, the tree became diseased and had to be cut down. Luckily, that didn't happen until my brothers and I were just about out of the house and well past our tree climbing days. Unluckily, it was before I realized how amazing apricots are to eat and how easy they are to cook with.

As I learned this week, stone fruits (those with a pit inside) are divided into two categories: clingstone fruits and freestone fruits. They are just what they sound like -- freestones allow the pit to pop out cleanly, and clingstone fruits hang on to the pit like it's about to bolt for the nearest border. Apricots, thankfully, belong to the freestone group, and getting the pit out of an apricot is about as easy as it gets. Also, the skin of an apricot is sweet and tender, and doesn't need to be peeled off. That means that all the prep work an apricot requires is rinsing, halving and popping out the pit.

As I mentioned before, cherry week was speedily ended when I found myself the lucky recipient of a big crate of apricots.

These aren't the most beautiful apricots in the world, due to the fact that they survived a hail shower at one point in their youths, as well as the fact that they are ripening at breakneck speed as we speak.



They look just fabulous all cooked up, though!

The first thing I was determined to do was to make some apricot syrup. I am not a huge maple syrup gal, as it is just too sweet. Tooth achingly sweet, in my opinion. Apricot syrup, on the other hand, has enough tang to balance out the sweetness and make a stack of pancakes into heaven on a plate.

It is pretty simple to make, too. It doesn't take long, since you don't need it to thicken the way you need jam to, and the use of a blender to puree the apricots gets the consistency set for you.


Apricot Syrup
(makes about 8 half-pints)

about 20 apricots, rinsed, pit removed, and chopped up
1 cup water
4 cups white sugar
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 tablespoon corn syrup


In a blender, puree half of the apricots with half of the water, and then repeat with the other half. As you finish each half, pour it into a large stockpot. Add the remaining ingredients, and bring to a boil. Boil and stir for 5 minutes. Remove from heat. Skim the foam off of the syrup. (Save this foam! I'll teach you how to turn it into a delicious cocktail tomorrow!) 


Pour the syrup into hot jars. (The jars need to be hot so that the glass doesn't crack when the hot syrup is poured in.) Fill each jar to 1/4 inch from the top. Wipe the edges of the jar clean. Place a lid on each jar, and screw on the band until it is finger-tip tight. Place the jars into a large pot of water, and boil for 5 minutes. (for higher elevations, check this chart for processing times). The water level needs to be 1-2 inches above the top of the jars. After 5 minutes, remove from the water using a jar lifter (or tongs). Let them sit, undisturbed for 12-24 hours. You will know if they are properly sealed if you press on the lid and it doesn't give at all.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Crispy Potato Roast

At the same time that tons of fruit is ripening and finding its way to my kitchen, we are still getting our huge box of fruits and vegetables each week. There are weeks that I am thrilled to have the challenge, and there are weeks that I dread finding ways to force these veggies onto the dining table and into my kids' gullets.

This week, I am just plain old tired. I think I have been in the kitchen about 8 hours each day, pitting and peeling and simmering and canning. I have also been wiping and washing and sterilizing and drying. I've cut my fingers, burned my hand, and run my computer and camera out of batteries a couple of times. If you emailed or called me this week, I'll get back to you soon. I must say that I am sleeping well... crashing at about 9:00 each night without so much as a minute between hitting the pillow and falling asleep.

Luckily, schedule-wise, the kids were at Karate Camp all week. I would feel bad if they had to sit around the house while I wrestled with big piles of fruit and even bigger pots of boiling water. As it works out, they were exhausting themselves as well, kicking and punching and grappling and defending.

But like I said, there are still veggies to consume. And, of course, people who need to eat.

While stumbling around the internet, looking for apricot and cherry and plum recipes to try out, I found a minute to read some stuff by these guys. They are Zach and Clay, and their blog, The Bitten Word, is the result of a New Year's resolution to be sure to cook, and write about, at least one recipe from each cooking magazine they read. Okay, in addition to the fact that they are pretty dang hawt, and that they cook amazing things, and take beautiful photos of it all, can we all take a minute to appreciate how incredibly cute it is to see a married couple have a joint New Year's resolution? And to stick with it!? I wish they lived next door to me.

Anyway, what led me to their blog was my incredible need, and never-ending search for things to do with potatoes. I've said it before, but holy moly, mother nature. Really? Do potatoes never go out of season?

So Zach and Clay offered me this recipe. It's amazing. I have never in my life been excited about potatoes. Until now, that is. This is worth writing home about.

But don't take my word for it. Go look at their blog. Theirs came out much cuter (after looking back at it, I realize they peeled their potatoes, and I didn't. They didn't tell me to.) And Zach and Clay are fun. But they failed to mention how amazing your house will smell while it cooks. I must say, though, that the un-peeled potatoes were just fine.

Plus, it gives me a whole new appreciation for potatoes. This is for sure a recipe that I will use often! It's easy, looks fabulous, and bakes for a good long time... freeing you up to make the rest of the meal. Or maybe even a pot of jam.



Crispy Potato Roast (from Everyday Food, December 2009)
Serves 8
Prep Time: 25 minutes
Total Time: 2 1/4 hours
Ingredients:
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
4 pounds russet potatoes, peeled
4 shallots, thickly sliced lengthwise
course salt
1/2 to 1 teaspoon red-pepper flakes (optional)
8 sprigs thyme
1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. In a small bowl, combine butter and oil. Brush bottom of a round 9-inch baking dish with some butter mixture. With a sharp knife or mandoline, slice potatoes very thinly crosswise.
2. Arrange potato slices vertically in dish. Wedge shallots throughout. Sprinkle with salt and red-pepper flakes (if using); brush with remaining butter mixture. Bake 1 1/4 hours. Add thyme and bake until potatoes are cooked through with a crisp top, about 35 minutes more.

cherry salsa

About a year ago, we moved out of the first house we had ever owned as adults, and into the nest that I hope will carry us at least until we empty it of children. We only moved about a mile, and we moved into a very similar neighborhood. We loved the house we had; we had upgraded and redone just about every square inch of flooring and walls in the joint to be exactly what we wanted. We simply had run out of room in that little house that had seemed spacious when we bought is as newlyweds, and was nothing short of cramped for a family of five.

I think, though, the hardest part of moving wasn't that I was going to miss the custom fireplace my husband built. It wasn't how much I thought the spanish tile floors that were installed (while we all camped out on mattresses in the living room) were perfect and could never be matched. It wasn't even the stripes I had painted in the dining room when I was nine months pregnant (someone else had to come back and get the bottom 18 inches of each wall because my belly got in my way). I brought all these memories with me. What I couldn't bring were the neighbors.

Directly across the street from us were the best neighbors anyone could ever hope for. Our first kids were about a year apart in age, and you never met such compatible souls. We were pregnant together and delivered our second kids within a month of each other. We had backyard barbeques on the weekends, we traded walking the kids to school in the mornings, and the two of us moms established Tuesday "wine nights" because that was the night our husbands both worked late. A bottle of wine and a salad, a tray of chicken nuggets, and suddenly we hoped for more late nights at the office.

Of course, we are still friends with our old neighbors. But it's a little different. I don't borrow a cup of sugar from her anymore, and barbecues need to be scheduled ahead of time. Still, though, friends like these are worth hanging on to, worth scheduling into our lives, and (I can only hope) will be here long after we empty this nest of children.


Cherry Salsa

This sweet salsa has a bit of a kick to it too. I chopped the cherries in half to garnish chicken, but you could easily chop them into smaller pieces and use it to dip your chips. If you want it milder, just use a small part of the jalapeno pepper.

4 cups cherries, pitted and chopped
1 cup chopped cilantro
1 jalapeno pepper (seeds and ribs removed), minced
6 green onions, chopped (white and green parts)
1 clove garlic, minced
1/4 cup lemon juice

Chop it all up and stir to combine. Make this at least a couple of hours ahead of time (or in the morning, if possible), so the flavors have a chance to meld.