Spring Means Cherry Cake Weather

or... What to do with that glowing jar of maraschino cherries hiding in the back of the pantry (other than topping bowls of ice cream)

It's still Springtime. I can tell because the bugs are fully activated, the weeds are on steroids, the wild onions are in bloom, and there are still a few cherry trees festooned in their floral finery in our neighborhood. Not many, and not for much longer, but a few nonetheless. Pretty sure the late-bloomers are the Kwanzan variety (one of my favorites). I had meant to post this in March or April when all the other varieties of fruit trees were showing off too, but things were starting to get weird in the world and blogging was not my focus.

We don't have cherry trees in our yard anymore, but we do have a crab-apple tree that came with this house, and when it comes to blossomy spring beauty, it's a close second to the cherry trees. Most of the year it's a nondescript unattractive old thing, showing its previous decades of neglect. For three to four weeks out of each year though (usually in March), it's a real stunner. A profusion of dark pink buds start the show and soon burst into pale pink blossoms that finish off creamy white before dropping their petals, swirling and fluttering to the ground, like springtime snow-flurries, with each passing breeze.

The color of this cake reminds me of those pretty buds and blossoms that every year herald the coming spring. The color is achieved by the inclusion of maraschino cherries and specifically, the "liquid" they live in. I won't go into how very unnatural the color of these jarred cherries is or what non-nutritive chemicals could create such a vivid hue, nor why you might want to avoid ingesting these things too terribly often. I'm a "waste not, want not" type of person, and even though they're not healthy, they are still sort of like food and need to be used if at all possible.

The reason we have a jar of maraschino's in the pantry at all is because of a sweet and wonderful Christmas tradition in my hubby's family. And now I have found the perfect thing to use them for. Don't get me wrong, we've had no problem at all using them to adorn bowls of ice cream every year! But next Christmas when I thank my mother-in-law for another jar of cherries, I will look forward to making this cake again.

When our crab-apple starts to bloom (or the neighbor's cherry trees, or all those darned wild onions, or frankly, whenever I feel like making a pink cake), I'll say, "It looks like Cherry Cake weather!"* and reach into the pantry for that jar of maraschinos, vivid with love, family, and memories.

Cherry Tea Cake

adapted from: here, here, here, and here

ingredients:

1 16-ounce jar maraschino cherries
1 3/4 cups All Purpose Flour (+ 2 Tbsp, reserved)

1 cup sugar
2 tsp baking powder

a good pinch of salt
2 large eggs

1/2 cup light olive oil
1/4 cup milk
1/4 cup maraschino liquid

1 Tbsp vanilla extract

directions:

Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease a standard 8.5"x 4.5" glass loaf pan.

1. Drain the cherries well, reserving their liquid. Put the drained cherries in a small bowl lined with a couple folded paper towels, set aside.
2. Whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt in a medium bowl. 
3. In a separate bowl, add the eggs, oil, and the rest of the liquids. Mix well.
4. Combine wet and dry ingredients until just incorporated.
5. Give the cherries a few chops, then toss them with 2 Tbsp flour until coated (this prevents the cherries from sinking to the bottom while it's baking). 
6. Fold the cherries into the batter and pour it into the greased loaf pan. Bake for about 70 minutes (start checking after 50 though, as ovens and pans vary).
7. If you notice the top of the cake getting too dark too early, make it a little hat out of foil and perch it over the top of the pan.
8. Cake is done when it tests clean with a toothpick in the very middle. 
9. Let cool in pan for 15 minutes, then carefully tip it out and finish cooling it on a rack.

My Notes...

• This cake goes together really fast. No mixer needed, just a whisk and a spoon. 
• Almond extract can be substituted for the Vanilla in whole or part if you like. 
• Powdered sugar or cream cheese glaze would look nice over the top of this cake if gifting or taking to a party etc. Save a little bit of the jar liquid to tint the icing pink. I find that the cake is plenty sweet on its own, so I don't bother to frost it if it's just us eating it. 
• The cake can be frozen (unglazed) if wrapped well. 
• You can bake two mini-loaves instead for gifting (bake time will be shorter), or even make pretty pink cupcakes! 
• If you use a metal loaf pan, the baking time may be different. 
• And lastly, if you're sensitive to red food coloring, you'll want to just stay away from this cake altogether.

Happy spring, late bloomers!

–Steph

P.S. This essay would have worked so much better if we still had a cherry tree in our yard (or if I'd managed to post it six weeks ago). But this is me, doing my best with what I've got (and missing my old cherry trees a little also, I think).

*An homage to Truman Capote's short story A Christmas Memory, about fruitcake and family ("It's fruitcake weather!"). If you haven't read it before, do so in November or December for the right ambiance.  

Good To The Last: Chard Pesto on Toast

This may not be the prettiest thing to ever come out of my kitchen... but it's definitely one of the cheapest... and best tasting!

Today I have a couple of questions for you:

1. Do you sometimes find yourself with a boatload of Swiss Chard?
2. Are you left wondering what to do with all the thick stems from that chard?

I've been in that boat on more than one occasion. I used to just toss them into the freezer and add them to the pot when I made stock, but now I have another trick up my sleeve... Chard Pesto.

I first read about this simple and delicious stuff a few years ago in the book, An Everlasting Meal by Tamar Adler... and I haven't tossed a single stem in my stockpot ever since. 

Chard Pesto
Not really a recipe, more like just a thing you do when you have a big bunch of chard stems...

1. Cut them up, then throw them in a pan with some butter or oil, salt, pepper, and garlic.
2. Cook them down a fair bit, adding a little water and a lid in the beginning.
3. Check and give it a stir now and then to see how it's coming along, removing the lid when mostly done.
4. Take it off the heat once "they" become an "it" (soft and mushy and thick enough to stand on its own)
5. Let cool it down some (too hot and it will steam the toast, making it soggy).
6. Pile it onto pieces of toast made from good sturdy bread and grate some Romano or Parm over the top.

It's the kind of thing that is so lacking in attractiveness that you won't want to make it for guests. Once you taste it though, you really won't want to share anyway... so it's just as well. I should also add that it makes a mighty fine dinner on a day when you don't want to spend a lot of time cooking.

Sweet Potato & Cous Cous Breakfast Hash

We all know by now how very healthy sweet potatoes are, right? Deeply orange all the way through... that's all good. It's nothin' but good. The problem is, we don't eat them all that often (in other words, I don't cook with them all that often). Well I knew that needed to change, so back in November we bought the BIG BAG of sweet potatoes at Costco. Since then we've been learning to love them for other reasons too. For instance, just how well they keep in the pantry...

We ate them in November. We ate them in December. We even took them with us on a long road trip to visit family... and baked some up out of town. We came back home with three left and none had any sign of being past it's prime. Folks, this is one tenacious tuber!

So, the other day I made the ultimate breakfast. The ultimate "everything-my-husband-hates" breakfast, actually. I just wasn't thinking. Or rather, I was thinking of how good the recipe sounded (to me), how it would use up stuff we already had on hand, and how nice it would be to make something different for breakfast. What I wasn't thinking about, was the Hub-ster. 

When I asked him how he liked it, he said, "Well considering it's got almost everything I don't like in it*... it's not bad." And here I was soooo proud of myself. Whoops! Well, what can I say? I liked it a lot and if you don't hate the stuff that's in it... you'll probably like it too!

Sweet Potato & Cous Cous Breakfast Hash

adapted from Quinoa Sweet Potato Hash at Grocery Shrink
Serves: 4

½ cup cous cous
3 slices thick-cut bacon, diced
1 sweet potato, peeled and diced
1 onion, chopped
1½ cups bell peppers, sliced

1 cup water

¼ cup dried mushrooms

2 - 4 eggs

1. Put the cous cous in a large dry pan. Turn to Medium heat and toast the cous cous for a couple of minutes, shaking the pan often. When the color deepens and it smells nutty...
2. Add the bacon and fresh vegetables. Sauté for approximately 6 minutes.
3. Add the water and the dried mushrooms. 
4. Bring to a simmer, cover, and turn the burner down to Low. 
5. After 15 minutes, check amount of water remaining. When it's all (or mostly) absorbed remove the lid.
6. With a spoon or spatula, make spots for the eggs to cook in. One divot for each egg. (Depending on your pan, you may want to put a little fat in each divot to keep the eggs from sticking.)
7. Crack an egg into each space that you made, cover the pan again, and cook for 3 minutes (or until eggs are cooked to your satisfaction).
8. Dish up the eggs and hash, adding salt and pepper to taste.

Notes: Make sure the spots for the eggs to cook in are wide enough! The first time I made this, my divots were too small and it took forever for the eggs to cook completely (which means they got overcooked. If this happens, just chop up the eggs and mix them into the rest of the hash. It will still taste great!). 

I think I also just had too much in the pan (those Costco sweet potatoes are huge). If this happens, or if your pan isn't big enough, remove some of the hash before adding the eggs. It will keep really well in the fridge for another day (or you can transfer it to another pan if you're serving all of it). 

We had so much left over that what you see in the photo is the leftovers the following day. I put some fat in the pan, added the leftover hash and covered it. It only took a few minutes to reheat on Med/Low, then I made divots and cracked in new eggs. I think it actually tasted better the next day.

*For the record... he had absolutely no issues with the eggs or bacon. He has, over the years learned to appreciate mushrooms, onions and bell peppers for the flavor that they add to dishes, and will tolerate cous cous now and then (especially with rosemary and lemon). The sweet potatoes... we're working on them. Baby steps!

End-Of-Season Misfit Cherry Tomato Paste

Well, it's over. For us anyway. Tomato season is officially done. We plucked the last hangers-on off, and there won't be any more until next summer. Do you still have tomatoes where you live? Some years have found us picking them into November, but that was an exceptional year in a backyard that got oodles of sunlight. This was not such a year, and this is not such a yard. Alas.

Waste not... want not

As you may have noticed by now, I hate to waste any bounty and am always looking for ways to make the most of what we have. These last-of-the-season cherry tomatoes were in all different states of being. Some were perfection, some on the green side, and a few so ripe they practically imploded on contact. There were also those that looked ripe but had taken so long to get color that they just didn't taste as good as they should have.

You can leave the skins on
I figured the best thing for this to-motley crew was to make a tomato paste. But with all the stuff I've got going on right now, I just didn't want to drag out the food mill. Did I really need to get rid of the skins? (That's another theme around here: I don't peel or skin fruits and vegetables unless I absolutely have to.)

It's not laziness, it's efficiency!
I'm all about saving unnecessary steps, time, and energy, with one condition... the end result can not be lacking in any way. In fact, the end result should be at least as good as the version that it's riffing. OK, so maybe it doesn't always happen that way, but that's what I shoot for. This golden tomato paste (from Sun Gold tomatoes) is the very essence of ripe homegrown tomatoes. It's like all of summer condensed down into a little jar (and it's going to taste grand this winter in stews and pasta sauces)!


The Lazy Girl's End-Of-Season Misfit Cherry Tomato Paste
There is a tinge of bitterness from the skins, but it can be tempered with a bit of sea salt and/or sugar. I'm betting though that when used in a hearty stew or ragout... it will won't be an issue.

Ingredients...

Cherry Tomatoes: enough to cover the bottom of a baking sheet in a single layer
Olive Oil
Salt & Black Pepper
Fresh Herbs: basil, oregano, or thyme, roughly chopped (Don't bother chopping the thyme, just strip the leaves from the stem.)
Sugar (Optional, and possibly not needed depending on the tomatoes of course)

Directions...

1. Wash, stem, and dry the tomatoes. Fill the pans with a single layer of them. Turn the oven to 300°F.
2. Drizzle a little olive oil over the tomatoes. Grab the baking sheet in two hands and shimmy the tomatoes back and forth in the oil. Then sprinkle some sea salt over the tomatoes, followed by the black pepper.
3. Roast for two hours, rotating the tray(s) half-way through. If the tomatoes start to get too dark, push them around on the tray and turn your oven down a bit. If after two hours, they don't seem done (kissed with golden brown, squishy and collapsed), leave them in until they do.
4. Take trays out of oven and let cool briefly, then transfer roasted tomatoes to the bowl of a food processor. You may have to process them in batches, but it will go fast. Pulse until skins are cut up quite small.
5. Look at the texture: does it look dry-ish and too pasty? If so add a little more oil and pulse it in until it's more of a glossy-creamy consistency. Now taste it. Does it need more salt? More pepper? What about a touch of sugar? Always add in small increments. Keep tasting until you're happy with it.
6. Toss any herbs you want to use (if any) into the food processor with the tomato paste and pulse briefly to distribute them throughout.
7. You're done! Let it cool completely, then transfer to freezer containers, label, and freeze.

Notes: This yields anywhere from 1 to 2 cups of finished tomato paste. Freeze it in quantities that you are likely to use when cooking: half-pint canning jars, smaller plastic freezer-safe containers, even ice cube trays. 

More Notes: The first batch I made got some thyme added in at the end, and I used my stick blender. It took longer to get the skins broken up enough that way, but it's a good option if you don't have a food processor. The next two trays went into the food processor and had fresh chopped basil and oregano added.

Shine on, harvest moon!

Simply Cilantro Salad Dressing

One of the last things I did before my second cilantro plant bolted, was to make a simple dressing with it. A simply delicious dressing. If you are one of the many people that don't like cilantro, you probably won't find this tasty in the least. The rest of us, who do like cilantro... will love it.

Simply Cilantro Salad Dressing

Adapted from: simplefoodhealthylife

1/3 cup olive oil
1/2 cup plain Greek yogurt
1 Tbsp lemon juice
2 garlic cloves
1 Tbsp white vinegar
1 bunch/handful cilantro
1/2 tsp ground pepper
sea salt to taste

Mix everything but the salt together in a food processor. Taste the dressing, then start adding the salt, a 1/4 tsp at a time, tasting as you go. When you're happy with it, transfer the dressing to a bottle or jar and store in the fridge. It should keep at least a couple of weeks.

Notes: We've been using this on lots more than just salads... tacos, quesadillas, even omelets and baked potatoes. It's great for a bright little touch of flavor almost anywhere.

Happy Kefir-versary!

And just what ever happened to that half-gallon of murky Concord grape juice that I threw in the freezer last month? Well, part of it went into making some kefir soda. It so happened that we were out of store-bought juice and there was all that leftover grape juice just sitting there.

I introduced it to my water kefir and SHAZAM! As you can see in the photo, water kefir loves raw organic unfiltered unpasteurized fruit juice! Duh, right? Of course it does! Fizzy bubble-rific-ness. Delicious, free (yea!), and full of all kinds of health and happiness. Hubs calls our kefir sodas Fizzy Lifting Drinks, after his favorite boyhood film.

It's been just over a year since I started these kefir grains. We still drink kefir soda every single day and the little darlings seem to be going strong with no signs of stopping... except that one time when I left Hubs in charge of them... but enough said on that. They bounced back and were none the worse for the ordeal.

We've all settled into a nice routine and they're pretty forgiving if I'm late a day here or there. I still make the kefir soda as cheaply as possible, and I only make as much as we can consume before the next batch is ready. It works out really well... nice and predictable!

My secret to making great budget kefir soda (from juice), is this: Use the best juice you can find for the best price you can find it at.* It sounds obvious, and it sounds easy... but it isn't if you're trying to do this on a squeaky-tight budget. I tried a lot of different brands from a lot of different stores and read a whole lot of labels...

Farm Fresh Harvest Pasta Sauce

Just days before our trip, while I was in fact hip deep in Concord grapes, cherry tomatoes, and other fresh produce that wouldn't wait for our return, we stopped to chat with a neighbor while on a walk through the neighborhood....

This neighbor, who has a small farm, was busy that day harvesting everything she possibly could before they moved. They were being forced out, not by a giant food conglomerate, and not by the government policies that hobble small farms. No, it was the simple act of their rent being raised to the point where they could no longer afford to remain. It's a sweet little farm with a tidy little house to one side with contented cows, happy pigs, and chatty chickens wandering about. The kind of sweet little farm that could only exist because of the hard work and commitment of two conscientious and genuinely nice people.

She asked if we'd like some tomatoes
Well, we couldn't say no. Who can say no to homegrown tomatoes? We may have had a truckload of cherry tomatoes this summer, but it's a little hard to make a BLT with tomatoes the size of marbles. So we finished our walk and Hubby went back over with a bowl. What he returned with were the most glorious Roma tomatoes I'd ever seen. There were a couple of big heirloom beauties also, and an onion that left me speechless, it was so fat and healthy looking.

Concord Grape Jelly (and the errors of my ways)

So.... I mentioned having a ton of grapes the other day. Well, it wasn't really a ton... it was 13 pounds. I exaggerated. I can't even say that it seemed like a ton of grapes. I've actually had hands-on experience with what an actual ton (or twenty) of grapes is like when Hubby and I help with the wine crush at our favorite winery each autumn.

Our harvest of Concord grapes was like a drop in the proverbial bucket (barrel?) compared to that. But since my backyard is a far cry from ever being called a vineyard and my kitchen is certainly no winery... those 13 lbs. still seemed like a whole awful lotta grapes.

Making the most of what we've been given
The vines came with the house, stealthily growing under the ivy on the back fence. And although we didn't plant them, pay them any attention, or even want them... there they were: fat, juicy, sweet, abundant, and free. They were a truly a gift to us, and I wasn't about to waste them.

Freezer Jam Of The Golden Sun

Forget the moonbeams and butterflies, or catching falling stars that will fit in your pocket... that's just the stuff of sappy love songs. You can however, catch the summer sunshine and keep it in a jar. At least that's what this jam tastes like to me. Tomato sunshine.

Picture yourself in the middle of winter... it's cold, it's wet, the weather is miserable. You take a jar out of the freezer to thaw. You toast some rustic bread until it's crisp and golden, add some good flavorful cheese—maybe an aged cheddar or smoked Gouda—then pry off the lid of the jam jar and dollop this golden orange stuff over the top. You're transported. You suddenly remember the smell of your hands after picking tomatoes last August. You get a flashback of a warm ripe tomato bursting sweet in your mouth and forever defining the word "summer". It could happen. In fact, I'm planning on it.

Harvest Gold
I've got Sungold cherry tomatoes practically coming out of my ears right now, and while I love them, I know this gloriousness won't last much longer. So I'm "saving for a rainy day" the only way I can right now and capturing the very essence of summer sunshine in a jar for later. 

When I read this recipe, I just knew it would be amazing made with our Sungold cherry tomatoes. Some of them are so sweet, they stop tasting like tomatoes at all and say with assurance, "You see, we really ARE a fruit!". I made one batch at first just to try it out. I filled two half-pint jars, lidded them, labeled them, and stuck them in the freezer. With the bit that was left over, I dolloped it over toast with brie. Two or three times. The creamy pungency of the brie with the sweet, earthy tomato jam... my, oh my... oh my.

Sungold {Cherry Tomato} Freezer Jam

adapted from: The Vanilla Bean Blog

4 cups Sungold cherry tomatoes
1-1/4 cups sugar
a pinch of sea salt

1. Wash the tomatoes and cut them in half.
2. Put them in a heavy pot with the rest of the ingredients.
3. Bring mixture to a boil then drop the heat down to a simmer.
4. Cook the jam until thickened, 60-90 minutes, stirring frequently.
5. Jam is done when you can swipe a finger across the back of your spoon and the path remains.
6. Blend briefly with an immersion blender if you'd like a smoother texture.
7. Let cool and transfer to jars.
8. Refrigerate for up to two weeks, or freeze for 6 months.

Yield: 2 to 3 cups.

Notes: Flavor is the name of the game here, so obviously you'll want to use only homegrown or farmer's market cherry tomatoes. This recipe doubles well. My first (single) batch made just over 2 cups. The next time I made it, I doubled the recipe and got just over 5 cups. Can't wait to try this on a grilled cheese sandwich, panini, cheeseburger... hmm, what else?

Twig Tea (on the rocks)

 
Saving can be good: saving lives, saving money, saving endangered species, saving time, saving the document you've worked so hard on...

But saving can also be bad: saving used staples, saving bellybutton lint, saving junk mail, saving every issue of Underwater Basket Weaving Weekly since 1967.

I like to think that I fall somewhere in between. Although truth be told, I probably skew a bit further to the bad side of saving stuff (just short of the used staples and bellybutton lint). I can't help it... I like to wring every last drop of usefulness out a thing before throwing it out. Even if it's going to be composted.

Save up and stock

For instance, when I dry herbs from my garden and strip the leaves from the stems, the dried stems go into my "stock jar". When I use fresh herbs in my cooking, I save those stems too, letting them dry first, then I add them to the jar. The next time I make stock, I throw a big handful of those dry stems into the pot. They add depth and make my vegetable stock more flavorful.

The sweeter side

It's a good system and it works great for things like rosemary, oregano, and basil. But what about the "sweet herbs"; the lemon verbena, lavender, and the mints? Well, I save those stems separately in a big bowl on the counter and make Twig Tisane (herb tea) with them.

How Smoothies Are Like Marinades (and how I am like Rocky Balboa)

tend to not use recipes when I make things like smoothies or marinades. I might use a recipe as a guide, but more often than not, I just don't bother. Instead, I use a formula... really it's almost more of a rhyme or mnemonic. Breaking the finished product down into it's basic elements makes for a super-flexible and creative approach. As a result, my smoothies and marinades all tend to be of the "everything-but-the-kitchen sink" variety: always tasty, occasionally spectacular. If I hit on a particular combination that knocks it out of the park... I write it down in a messy notebook (or on this blog) for the next time. Here's my approach to smoothie making...

Love Is A Many Blendered Thing

I've been wanting to try making a green smoothie for a while, but never seem to have any extra greens sitting around. What I do have are a lot of herbs in my garden… they're green, do they count? I even have beet greens... although the variety we planted are ruby red, I think they'll do.

Wandering through my front and back yards, I clipped a bit of this, snipped off a bit of that until I had a big handful of "greens"...
 

Also intriguing me has been the idea of the whole-citrus vinaigrette. I just love the idea of pulverizing and consuming the whole fruit. Maybe I'm just excited about not having to slice, squeeze, zest, or otherwise fuss with it. It is simplicity and laziness together at their beautiful best. Why not try it in a smoothie?

I picked a small ripe lemon from our dwarf Meyer tree on the back patio and headed into the kitchen...

The smoothie I created is entirely experimental and admittedly, a little bizarre. I basically shopped from my garden and my freezer with a "let's see what happens" attitude. What happened was a surprising combination of flavors and a smoothie like no other. It's very lemon-forward due to the whole lemon of course, but also to all the lemon-scented herbs I used. Each one lemony, but in slightly different ways.

I've included the recipe here, not because I think anyone else would want to recreate it, so much as to show just how completely crazy you can get when making smoothies, and still end up with something really tasty....

Herb-y Eggs with Easy Freezer Hash Browns

I am not a morning person. I get up early, but let's just say I'm not exactly chipper and cheerful about it. Not right away anyhow. A little time, a little quiet, and a little caffeine... ease into it, you know? So I really don't want to have to think too much about cooking breakfast every morning.

But....... I also want a good breakfast. Steel-cut oats, granola, egg quesadillas, muffins,  smoothies, banana bread, pancakes, scones, yogurt with fruit... I even like breakfast for dinner (I could go on and on). Are you getting the idea that I like breakfast? A lot? And I love hash browns too, but with all the shredding and squeezing, they're too much effort for a regular weekday breakfast. Until now.

Thanks to this method that a friend clued me into, we've been having truck-stop-worthy hash browns whenever we want. They go straight from freezer to frying pan. No fuss, no muss, and no early morning exertion... practically no brain function necessary at all!

Total Concentration

We were blessed this summer/fall with an abundant crop of tomatoes. I am talking about major abbondanza. Some of the shrubs didn't do very well or produce much, but the ones that did... did so with sheer abandon. Not only did we have enough to stuff ourselves silly with, but we had enough to bless friends and neighbors with too. Such a great feeling. But all good things come to an end as they say, sunshine and tomatoes included. So I reduced, concentrated, and intensified the last 5 lbs of sun and warmth... and stuck them in a little jar for when the cold, wet, gray of the coming winter starts to get me down. Just like rainy days and Mondays. 

Eating Paste

It may seem an odd choice, to make what is essentially a small amount of tomato paste out of the last of our homegrown tomatoes, but to call this stuff "paste" is to call filet mignon "a steak", or aged balsamic "vinegar"... doesn't quite do it justice. No tomato paste I've ever had has the depth and intensity of flavor that this stuff has. So is it tomato paste? Yeah... but it's really really really good tomato paste. And won't it be wonderful to use in the middle of winter when flavorful ripe tomatoes are the stuff of summer dreams and memories.

Jack-Be-Useful

What can you do with a jack-o-lantern that never fulfilled its Halloween destiny? That was what I pondered earlier this week. We bought two rather large orange beauties but then got too busy to carve them in time for Halloween. In the past, I would've just called them autumnal decor and enjoyed them as-is until they started to get squishy. Now I'm thinking what a silly wasteful girl I was. There is so much goodness in these orange orbs... it's almost spooky.

Most folks use sugar pumpkins for their pie-baking etc. Truth be told, I prefer them also. They're smaller and easier to work with as well as being naturally sweeter than their carve-able cousins. They also cost more. The cheapest I found was a buck a pound. Might as well buy the canned purée. But... there is a trick to using jack-o-lantern pumpkins (which are a much better deal) which you'll see in a minute. First things first...

Herb Drying Made E-Z (Weather, Or Not)

resh herbs never go to waste at my house. What doesn't get used right away, usually gets hung to dry so I can use them throughout the year. Sometimes there's too much humidity in the air though (or not enough patience). Other times, I'll just have a handful of herbs to dry, not really enough to tie into a bundle. That's when hang-drying may not be the best or fastest route. And that's when I utilize this nifty trick. I happened upon it purely by accident, but it works so well I wanted to share it with you...

My Super E-Z Herb Drying Instructions:

1. Lay the herbs in a single layer on a baking sheet.
2. Place baking sheet in oven before you go to bed.
3. Turn oven light on.
4. Go to bed.
5. In the morning, check herbs. If they're crumbly-dry... you're done! Put them in an air-tight container and store them someplace dark, dry, and cool. 

If the herbs are still a bit bendy, repeat the steps (leave them in for another eight hours or so) until they are completely dry. Any residual moisture can turn into mildew/mold... and we don't want that. Store them in an airtight container away from heat and direct light. Crush them, crumble them, or grind them as needed throughout the year.

Lavender, Sage, Rosemary & Time

Gardening was never my first love, I don't think it would even crack the top 20. In my dictionary, "garden" is a noun, not a verb. Nevertheless, I often find myself thinking about my dream-garden and what plants I would put in it.* Perhaps partly due to my aversion to actual hands-on gardening, my dream garden is what's known as a perennial garden.

Plants tend to fall into one of two camps: annuals or perennials.** Annuals are generally the ones you see making a big splash of color on racks outside the garden department of the home store. They are often bright, brash, and bedazzling. Picture petunias, pansies, marigolds and impatiens. They also need to be replaced every year. Annually. They are the pop stars of the garden. The flashes in the pan.

Long Live The Perennials!
Unlike annuals, perennials are described with words like consistency and continuity. Think of buddleia (butterfly bush), hydrangea, or peonies. They keep on keepin' on. Perennially. They are the Dave Brubeck of the plant world. They are Ella Fitzgerald in bloom. There is something so comforting about being in a mature perennial garden; a real feeling of stability and history. Perennials are survivors. Below ground are deep strong roots, holding the soil together and supporting the new growth and seasonal changes taking place up above.

An Open Letter To My Summer Houseguests

Dearest Friends (and family),

Please accept my apology for not making this Spinach Strata from Super Natural Every Day  for you while you were here visiting.

I was remiss. It would have been the perfect thing to make for you and I dropped the ball.

My only excuse is that I didn't know how easy and delicious it was at the time. But now I do. So when you return for another visit, this is what we'll have in the morning. Unless you don't like feta cheese, in which case... more for me!

Strata-fyingly yours,

Stephanie

Notes: I used week-old homemade sourdough bread in this, substituted cream for the milk, used all of a 4 oz. package of Feta, Meyer lemon zest, and homemade Guinness Mustard instead of Dijon. I baked it in an 8" square glass dish for 1 hour and 5 minutes (rotating it half-way).

My Freezer Is Trying To Tell Me Something

Is it... Banana bread? Maybe muffins? Or a smoothie? Decisions, decisions...
(Uh-oh... smoothies aren't baked... will I get in trouble for not following directions if I make one?)

Everything But The Kitchen Sink

onfession time. I've made delicious treats and not shared. Cookies... really good cookies too. But I never posted them. One was the victim of pre-holiday schedule-flurry, the other was simply toyed with during a seemingly never-ending gray winter. I made a third type of cookie the other day and realized that all three of the cookies came from the same cookbook and I'd be a cotton-headed ninnymuggins if I didn't share them asap.  First up...

• Chockablock Cookies pg 86 of Baking: From My Home To Yours by Dorie Greenspan (2006)

Exactly what you'd imagine them to be like. Full of anything and everything. I couldn't remember their name once and called them "kitchen sink cookies". It's apt. If you can think of it, it's in there. They don't look like much, but they taste fantastic and are a great way to use up any random dried fruits and nuts and such that you might have hanging around. They've got molasses and oats, nuts and fruits, chocolate and coconut too. If you love a cookie with lots of texture and flavor, as I do, this is it.