Change - Stress - Happiness

Life’s upheavals and unexpected turns takes you to places you may never imagined. I have gone from an urban forager of daily markets to a backyard garden on the outskirts of a congested metropolitan area to now, a resident secreted away in a bucolic setting of rolling hills where horses lazily graze on rich pastureland. I cannot wrap my head around the idea that this town has less people in it than the apartment building I use to live in.

I made this move just around the time my seedlings needed to be set free from their incubators but the move delayed their ability to take root in the earth. Everything is a bit off schedule and nothing is benefitting from a known routine – change is grand but the transition is stressful.  The dogs are not sure if we are just visiting, and continually sit by the car waiting to go “home.” My spouse and I are still searching through boxes and organizing never finding enough hours in the day to get what needs to be done. A first priority for me was tilling a spot and getting those seedlings to ground. I hope I have not over-shot my timing and the increasingly intense heat does not fry them. Those seedlings carried along in their earthen padded cradles, which they clearly had out grown, have been the first to settle with love and generous soakings will flourish and provide me with the happiness I get from fruit laden plants – however, in the interim this pastoral surrounding provides enough access to farms and a myriad of markets dotted throughout the region, and I am grateful for all the others who till some land. For me, nothing can surpass the pleasure and excitement I feel when I present a table resplendent with the gifts of my own tending. While the peas, radishes and strawberries of spring maybe of someone else’s touch I hold on to the promise that the tomatoes, peppers, eggplants and watermelons will be from those later started newcomers. 

Spring Salad – yields 4 to 6 servings

1-pound baby beets – boiled and peeled

½-cup fresh shelling peas

¼-pound baby carrots – thinly sliced

4-scallions – thinly sliced

1-teaspoon chopped Texas tarragon

½-teaspoon chopped thyme leaves

1-teaspoon chopped lemon verbena leaves

¼-cup chopped loveage leaves

¼-cup Balsamic vinegar

¼-cup extra virgin olive oil

Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

¼-pound baby lettuce leaves

Tossed all the ingredients together, correct seasoning and serve.

Looking Up...looking forward

Spots of upturned earth

 tug of the Harvest Moon

Dividends are stored

Carrot/Apricot Bread – yeilds  9x3 loaf

3-cups flour

1-1/2 teaspoons baking soda

1-1/2 teaspoons baking powder

½-teaspoon ground cinnamon

¼-teaspoon ground mace

1/4-teaspoon ground cardamom

1/8-teaspoon salt

4 whole eggs

1-cup sugar

1-cup canola oil

1-teaspoon pineapple extract

1-teaspoon oragne water

½-teaspoon grated orange zest

2-1/2 cup grated carrots

¾-cups diced dried apricots

Pre-heat the oven to 350-degrees.

Sift the flour, baking soda, baking powder, cinnamon, mace, cardamom and salt together.

In a mixing bowl beat the eggs and sugar together until light and fluffy. Then slowing add in the oil, oineapple extract, orange water and orange zest.

Then mix the flour to combine. Then mix in the carrots and apricots to thoroughly distrbute. Pour into a buttered and floured loaf pan and bake in the oven for 50 to 60 minutes.

Remove from the oven to a wire cooling rack and allow the bread sit for 20 to 30 minutes before turning it out to completley cool. Slice and serve with citrus scented cream cheese.

Citrus Cream Cheese Smear

8-ounces cream cheese

½-teaspoon orange water

½-teaspoon grated lemon zest

1-cup powdered sugar

Beat all the ingredients until well combined, and smooth.

What I time I have had!

I have gone through two full seasons engaging in this exercise, called gardening. I was an absolute novice a mere six months ago struggling to keep the palm in the house alive. However, I have learned that trying to grow something in the earth exposed to the elements is actually easier. That is not to say, that the labor in involved is inconsequential or that gnawing, cutting, boring pests that work to thwart the desired outcome are effortlessly out maneuvered. I have raced out during whipping thunder storms to save young corn stalks from being uprooted and mourned the death of cauliflower due to an obliterating infestation of black fleas. I have successfully nursed my loveage, sorrel and chamomile through the wilting heat of summer to watch them reclaim their productive lives in the past few weeks. 

Since the autumnal equinox the sun is positioned in a less aggressive position for those plants that can tolerate a life without air conditioning. I have crunched on plum radishes, candy-stripped beets, and I awaited the broccoli both common and Romanesque as well another attempt at cauliflower. We have built up the topsoil deep enough that a crop of carrots have actually taken hold. I feel good about getting through this final push of dirt. I am most proud of the achievements and how we have managed to live off the generosity of our modest plot.

I am buoyed by the response I have received for next year’s plantings. I already have started my list of things I want to try to grow: sesame, fenugreek, water radish, cumin, shiso, garlic, and if I win, start raising chickens. Of course, this is addition to all that was grown this year and come February the dining room will be lined with a hefty, plastic bag and become home to seeds that have been collected, and with fingers crossed will sprout. 

                                                       Pork Meatballs – yields about 16

¼-cup amaranth

2-tablespoons loveage – chopped

1-tablespoon Italian parsley leaves – chopped

1 medium carrot – grated

1-small onion – finely minced

3-garlic cloves – finely minced

1-poblano pepper – seeds discarded; then finely minced

1-1/4 pound ground pork

Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

                                                ¼-cup white wine

Place the amaranth in a small work bowl and cover the hot water. Let the amaranth sit for an hour.  Then drain.

In a large work bowl mix all the ingredients, except the white wine, together in order to distribute everything well. Form into 16 meatballs, approximately the size of a golf ball. Refrigerate the meatballs for 30 to 60 minutes.

Heat a 10-inch saute pan over a high heat, and brown the meatballs. You will want to do this in two batches. 

Once the second half of the meatballs are browned add all the meatballs to the pan, and pour in wine. Reduce the heat to lower, and cover the pan. 

Cook for 15 to 20 minutes. Serve immediately over wilted greens.