growing curious

bookroom

We have a "book room" now.  It's connected to the "theater room" that we've been using in an unfinished state for the last year or so, but D got a bee in his bonnet to finish these two rooms as best we can before another winter sets it.

D built the shelves this last month.  They look wonderful. I've ordered a custom-made cushion for the window seat from the Whole 9 Yards,  and that should be ready in a week or two.  E's children's books fit nicely underneath the window seat.

It's been incredibly satisfying this weekend to arrange books that have been stored three books deep in other shelves or hidden in the basement storage space.  D and I have a lot of very old books, and I was able to put some of them out. 

Anyone who knows me know how important books are to me.  Many of the books I unpacked this weekend are rich with history because I worked with the people who made the books.  I found it different to arrange books in a tight space for three people (D, E and me), but I still managed to pull off some shelving jokes.  (I create stories and fun by how I shelve books together.  Most librarians, booksellers, and antiquarians do this from time to time.)

That sweet little library table has been sitting downstairs in an unfinished room for the last six years.  Tomorrow I'm going to find some flowers or a plant to sit on top of it to thank the table for its patience.  I found that table for cheap at the corner of 6th Avenue and 15th Street in Brooklyn when I really, really needed it.    I'm happy it's surrounded by good energy again.

I also mowed the grass, took E to a great birthday party at a nature center (we walked right underneath a huge barred owl that was calm and focused on a squirrel nearby), and unpacked a new crock of pickles.

Still pretty sad, but I'm trying to focus on the concrete things that make me happy.  Pickles, books, creating a happy home.

what's gonna get cooked?

The earth giveth.

E and I went with our friend J to glean some tomatillos from a field leased by a friend of hers on Sauvie Island.  I didn't think tomatillos could grow well here at all, and I have never, ever seen such loaded pepper plants.

The backstory on this leftover harvest is heartbreaking to me, but I wanted to honor what the earth gives in a clear way -- by using it carefully and/or paying for it carefully.  Thankfully, I brought money with me just in case we met up with the tenant, and we did meet up with a relative of his who said she would see him later today.  I gave her $25.  It wasn't enough, but it was all I had.

I've weighed parts of this haul, and I think I came away with 10 - 12 pounds of tomatillos, 8 pounds of jalapenos, and 4 pounds of serranos. 

While there, I also found a few roma tomatoes that hadn't decayed (the rest of the tomatoes in the photo are from our vines).  Two weeks ago, that field would have been full of useable romas, too.  It broke my heart to reach toward each tomato to find that it was rotten on the other side. (Hard year for tomatoes here because of the weather, but these tomatoes would have been okay a couple of weeks ago.)

We stopped into Kruger's to get more cukes when we were out there.  The last bag I got from them turned into such fantastic pickles, that I was greedy for more.

Those cukes went into one of these holy fermenting vessels.  I got another Harsch crock!  Two!  Don't they look lovely?  See that French rolling pin there in front?  That is my new kraut packer.  Do you have a kraut/kimchi packer?  Well, I do...  tra-la-la.  It works great because it is so long and allows me (short, fat lady) such leverage.

Right now, one crock is becoming perfect garlic-dills, and the other is becoming perfect late-summer kimchi.

But back to the photo up top...  time to make salsa, yes?  Can you believe that girl?  She picked a lot of those tomatillos and peppers, too.

back

This is the view from our porch in Maui:

I swam a lot right out there.  In the afternoons, the wind picked up and made the water a little more rough.  In the mornings, it was very calm.  I also spent a lot of time reading out on this porch, enjoying the view and the breeze.

When we came home, after just a week, we found all of this in the garden:

When E and I picked up our dog from the kennel on Sauvie Island, we stopped into Kruger's for these:

They should be ready on Sunday or Monday.  I'm thrilled that my last batch of pickles turned out so well and still are receiving rave reviews.  I probably will get two more batches in before cucumbers are done for the season, and then I'll start another batch of kimchi. 

Three or four people are waiting to come to my house the next time I make kimchi...  I keep trying to figure out how to make a living teaching and doing this fermenting, but I also want to just share.  I guess I'll figure it out in the next few months.  Today D, E and I passed a boutique catering kitchen, and I thought again about the process of getting a food handler's license and of finding commercial kitchen space.  I don't know how to begin those projects until E is in first grade so that I have full mornings free. 

roar!

See this strong arm?  I've never, ever dropped a jar -- even when boiling water bubbles over my arm or plops me in the face.  This arm can can, man!  I am a preserving queen.

A couple of weeks ago, Amy asked me to ROAR!  (I sure like how she roared.)  I heartily believe in roaring, but I don't like to show pictures of my face here and wasn't sure what was roar-worthy in my life these days.  But I thought about it quite a bit.

Then, when my mom scoffed at my recent preserving projects,  I thought, "Well, I'll show her!  Roar!" And I realized I finally had something to roar about here.

These are the fruits of my labor during the last week: 

From far left to near right...

• 4 trays of dried nectarine halves
• 5 quarts of beets pickled in red wine
• 8 half pints of low sugar peach jam
• 10 half pints of low sugar apricot jam
• 14 quarts of Aunt Ruth's vinegar pickles
• 4 pints of low-sugar bread and butter pickles
• 8 pints of spicy nectarine bbq sauce
• 4 quarts of lemon cucumber pickled with vinegar
• 6 quarts of spiced nectarines
• one big jar of fermented garlic dills
• (you can't see the frozen peaches, frozen apricots, or the apricot fruit leather)

Yeah...  I did say fermented garlic dill pickles...  Yes, they're the real thing.  Of course they taste great!  (Didn't I tell you that I'm a preserving rock star?)  My first batch of real pickles turned out!  Yay!  The jar here just holds a quarter of them.  I left the rest in the crock to ferment more.  Please admire the cloudy brine.  Friends, these pickles took just a week in the Harsch crock.  (I haven't had a failure yet with this crock.)  The pickles taste fresh, flavorful, and crunchy.  I'll keep the rest in there another week and then start another batch!  Yay!

My feet and hips are killing me from standing at the stove all week, but my husband hasn't asked for a divorce yet, and my daughter still calls me mom and asks me to kiss her owies.  So shit howdy, man!  I am a preserving goddess.

ROAR!

I won't single out anyone in particular because I had such a hard time following through on this one, but does anyone else need to roar?  We all feel emboldened when we hear other women roar.  Be proud!

nectar

A friend and I both took advantage of the great deal Azure Standard offered on organic nectarines, and today she came over to can some of them in syrup.  I was so inspired by what she did that I made a few jars of my own.  Pretty, yes?  Like jewels.  For all my jam-making and pickle-making, I don't have a lot of experience canning fruit in syrup, but I'm inspired by the possibilities in such a simple way of saving fruit.

Last year I took advantage of this deal on nectarines, too, and D and I froze most of them.  (We cut the nectarines in half and froze them on cookie sheets before bagging them -- perfect!)  Tonight, I'm using a bunch more to make BBQ sauce, and I think we'll try to dry some, too. (I'm imagining making a special granola that has chunks of dried nectarine in it...  can you imagine how great that could be?)

Yesterday was a hard day.  I have been buoyed today by the comment made by Taylor (she of the amazingly helpful aching muscle elixir):

"...my son has heard from his infancy  'Not right now...we have to weed/harvest/plant/can this food so we can have it later.' ... I DEEPLY believe that his understanding that we work for food, that we inconvenience ourselves in order to have deep nutrition is actually good for him."

I think "I inconvenience myself in order to have deep nutrition" is my new mantra for the rest of the harvest season.  This is big.  It's not what we can grow in our gardens but how we can work with our gardens to sustain us.

I appreciate having a blog today.  Yesterday, I felt helpless.  There was something in what my mother said and how she said it (there were other bits that didn't make it into the blog post) that made me feel really icky.

I realized today what I wish my mother would say to me:  "Wow, Cathy...  this food preservation stuff is so important to you, and you're working so hard right now.  Could I come over for an hour tomorrow and entertain E while you get a little more done?"

I'm 45, and she's 67.  Every time I talk about something I'm doing that is challenging to me, she finds fault with my aspirations and my process.  She also tries to scare me by telling me I'm ruining my marriage, my relationship within the family, and now my bond with my daughter.  She has been doing this since I was E's age.

This week I have been working with:

• 40 pounds of nectarines
• 20 pounds of peaches
• 20 pounds of apricots
• 10 pounds of kale
• 10 pounds of figs
• 30 pounds of cucumbers
• 10 pounds of carrots
• a 4-and-a-half-year-old child

I kinda, sorta think that would challenge anyone.  There is long-term value in what I'm doing.  Tonight E and I cuddled and read a chapter in Beezus and Romona -- about what happens when Romona takes one bite out of each apple in the crate. E and I are still connected even though I sometimes ask her, "Why don't you do watercolors in the kitchen while I work on these nectarines?"

apricots

What would you do with twenty pounds of apricots?  Do you have any great recipes?

I still have some to use up, but I made apricot frozen yogurt, 11 half-pints of jam, and some fruit leather that's still cooking/drying.

I ordered a bunch of fruit from Azure Standard this week, and every bit of what I ordered was put on the truck this time around.  It's hard to turn down perfect, organic fruit for $1/per pound so I got a little carried away (and assumed that I wouldn't get half of what I ordered).

I was sad but grateful to discover the nectarines aren't ripe yet so a shared canning project will be delayed until later this week.  That meant I could focus on the fruit that truly was ripe -- the cucumbers (yesterday and bread and butter pickles today!) and the apricots.

And the kid is sick.

And my feet hurt again.

If I'm not mistaken, next up, the box of peaches will ripen, and then the nectarines... That mountain of compost has been calling to me all day, too. 

Gathered elderberries today in the middle of it all and felt glad that the bushes are finally big enough so that I can share the berries with the birds.

pickles

 

Today I made 14 quarts of regular dill pickles, using D's aunt's recipe.  I also filled the Harsch crock with my first batch of fermented pickles (Sandor Katz's recipe, I really like his book).

I also kept working on that pile of compost.  Parts of the yard are looking much nicer now.

My feet hurt.  I've been going since 6:15 this morning.

first apples

We planted an apple tree out front three years ago, and this year it fruited.  In fact,there was so much fruit on it that the branches bowed down to the ground, and I worried for the health of the tree.  Other apples were falling off.  I decided to salvage what I could and just left a few apples up on the tree to see how they ripen.  I thought that I could treat the green, unripe apples like crabapples and make hot apple jelly with some chilis I had in the fridge.

And so I did that last night.  I put a whole, dried chili in the jar a la Oded Schwartz in his book Preserving.  I gave a spoonful to D last night, and it took  a minute before the heat hit his tongue, but then I heard the "oh!"

This morning (still going out just as it gets light) I brought in the garlic that I had curing out there in the hot, hot sun.  The kitchen smells like how our next door neighbor's house used to smell.  Mrs. Gashina lived next door in a double-sized lot, and she gardened her whole yard intensively.  She and her husband made wine, and even her apple streudel tasted like garlic because everything in Mrs. Gashina's house was infused with garlic.  I used to love it when she'd take her gray hair out of her bun and brush her hair upside down, down to the floor.  She'd swoop back up, and it would be standing out to her sides, and she'd cackle like a happy witch.

Feeling a little blue today, overwhelmed by summer and hormones, worrying about things I can't seem to fix.

sometimes i amuse myself...

Tonight I'm watching kimchi how-to videos on YouTube.  This video by Maangchi is inspiring and easy.  This one by Julie Hasson is vegan.  My recipe is different from both of theirs!

Also, I'm thinking about chickens and how to keep them happy.  I'm overwhelmed by hot summer days, solo with a four-and-a-half-year-old.  I'm growing a lot of beans.  I feel pride in the celery, which is a crop no one else likes because I'm not blanching it by hiding it from the sun.  I make jam.

Even ten years ago, when I was just getting back from New York,  I never would have guessed I'd be here now.  Back then, I thought I'd be in publishing somehow forever.  These days, I care about children's books, but my energy is used in the garden and the kitchen.  I still haven't figured out how this changes me, but I'm different lately.

today's haul

This is the morning's haul from the garden.  Notice the cabbage -- the very first ever.  We had some for dinner.  It was okay.  I need to work with our cabbage in the future.  I was surprised that it formed that much of a head so I feel so though we're "heading" (no pun intended) in the right direction.

You can see the 129 green beans.  We ate some for dinner, and I made two quarts of pickled green beans.

This morning I had 3 steamed zucchinis for breakfast, and I'll probably have these two tomorrow for breakfast.  I like them.  My family doesn't unless I smother them somehow so I'll keep eating these lovely, young things all by myself.

I also taught a really nice woman how to make jam today.  She had perfect, lively raspberries, and we turned them into lovely jam.

a sunflower

Where have I been?

I feel like crying.

I am so overwhelmed...  by life...  by challenges...  by gratefulness...  by worry and angst.

I can't decide how to catch up here.  Do you want the details or the nitty-gritty?  I also want to share my new method for making beans.  Maybe I'll share that in a different post.

The need to cry?

Today E finished her first year of preschool.  There was an awesome moment when the older "graduating" Sunflowers gave the younger Rosebuds (E's group) real sunflowers, signifying their transition into the next Sunflower class.

This transition has been very meaningful for E.  Here are just a few of the things she said to me today:  "I'm going to make poops in the morning when I'm a Sunflower...  Mamma, my arms are longer now that I'm a Sunflower!...  My voice is deeper now, isn't it?...  Can I walk outside for awhile in my old Rosebud shoes, just to remember?"

I love that her teacher and classmates created enough kid-centered ritual for today so that she could feel the transition.  That's so powerful, and it's something I hope we can build upon as she grows. I didn't have that recognition of transitions when I was growing up because events and growth weren't celebrated like that in my family.  This is why I studied ritual and meaning in college.  I craved it.

I'm proud of E, of course, but there's been a confluence of end-of-school year challenges for both of us so the need to cry is more about me, I think.  For instance...

• Is this stupid?  I didn't know how much *energy* end-of-school events and responsibilities require of a parent.  Granted, it's a cooperative school, but this is preschool for goshsakes!  Was I doing something wrong?  Every day for the last month has felt huge, overwhelming, loaded, political, spiritually-challenging, and just plain busy because of school stuff.  Why?  Am I weird?  Did I take on too much?  Does it get easier when the kid gets older and goes to public school?

• One of my parent jobs for the year was to create a DVD of the schoolyear.  This was challening for me because I had to learn new software and publish something in a different medium.  I put so much energy into this project (see above), and I was crushed when the teacher turned the DVD off half-way through the show so that she could move onto other things.  I felt so embarrassed, as if I had failed.  I tried so hard and wish it would have captivated the kids' interest even though they were crazy-full of energy.  Unrealistic, yes, and "adult Cathy" understands the teacher's decision completely, but I had hoped to succeed, and I feel I didn't.

• However, the school year is really over now, and that damn DVD project is over, too, and I feel ugly-weird-huge-naked RELIEF!  Like, okay...  I got a C-, but at least I get to graduate or something.  Shit howdy!  I'm free!

• D and I have been working like crazy so that we can host an end-of-the-year gathering for some families at our house on Saturday.  This is what I mean about a confluence of events and energy happening...  the gathering is so that I can teach a few mothers how to make jam, and it's part of a whole year of food preservation coaching I offered to the school for its fund-raising auction.  I didn't have anything "real" to donate and searched my life for something to offer up and realized I could teach people how to make jam and pickles.  So I've spent the last two months figuring out how to make this work, and now three other mothers are coming over on Saturday with their six kids (and one husband to help D watch them all) for jam-making.  I'm pretty scared, and we've been working so hard to kid-proof our yard and house so that seven kids can run around and celebrate the beginning of summer vacation while I try to share what I know.  (My mother-in-law has been coming over to weed and "clean up" our yard because she's embarrassed at how bad our yard is...  it's that sort of thing going on over here...)

• And my dad is dead, you know?  I've been thinking about that a lot lately.  I don't know what I feel about it all.  I'm still glad for him to be released from his pain.  My mother is not well now, and she's being stubborn, and a new level of worry for her is sinking through my psyche despite the chaos here.

Enough, I think.  Time for summer.  Time for swimming and gardening and letting go of some responsibilities.  Time for new things to bloom.

kimchi birthday

Why does this make me so happy?  My first batch of kimchi is a success.  I am now a kimchi maker!  (Perhaps I will add this skill to my resume when I dust off the cobwebs soon...) 

(Napa cabbage + bok choi + daikon + radish greens + carrots + green onions + jalepeno + garlic + ginger + aleppo pepper) ^{soaked in salt overnight and drained} x 5 days in the Harsch crock = WOW! 

It tastes clean and bright -- spicy hot enough but not burning hot.  You can taste each of the ingredients and then appreciate how they work together.  I am so proud.  And I'm delighted to learn to make something with a shorter production time in the crock.  If I run out of kraut, I can make a batch of kimchi (healthful, too) and have the crock ready for a round of pickles whenever the cucumbers are ready.  (I was feeling panicky about having kraut going in there when the cucumbers were ready, and last time the kraut just needed another three weeks and it turned out wonderfully, but it was winter, and I could wait...  Now I think I won't get another crock just yet.)

Today was a good day.  D stayed home.  E stayed home, too, because she has a cold (boo!).  The fish came.  We all had time in the garden.  We went to Concentrates to pick up our back-ordered supply of organic compost.  Taylor's package of special super-duper muscle rub arrived!  It was my birthday, and E made me a collage, and D gave me a two-hour foot rub while we watched a movie.  And the kimchi turned out!

sauerkraut love

I just ate two spoonfuls of my amazing sauerkraut.  I'm down to the last quart of my first batch, and I'm trying to stretch it out until the next batch is ready to try.

I love my Harsch crock.

I love my first batch of sauerkraut -- made with cabbage, kale, apples, and salt.  I love how time, decay, and life make those ingredients much more than the sum of their parts.  Each spoonful brings powerful energy to me.  I am so proud that it turned out so well the first time.

I'll open up the crock on New Year's Eve to taste the next batch.  I added onions this time around, and I'm not sure how this will taste.  The apples add such a fresh, happy note to the kraut, and I don't want the onions to get in the way of that.  We'll see.

Maybe I can get another crock before next summer.  I don't want to make pickles any other way any more.

why i'm a mess: in chapters

I just got back from a craft workshop at my daughter's school.  I liked it a lot, but I felt awkward there and sometimes I just really hate being an older mom to a young kid.

I've kept so much inside during the last month, during the last several months, during most of my life.

I used to get in trouble for sharing too much with the wrong people so I just have tried to keep it all inside.

But it doesn't stay inside neatly when I start to feel it all.  And I'm raw all over right now because of my cousin's passing and other family weirdness.  I feel as though I expressed myself weirdly tonight with the other parents in the craft workshop.  I feel exposed in a bad way.

Best part of today:  E and I did our longest hike ever -- from the Arboretum's visitor center to the Winter Garden and then down to the Japanese Garden (which was closed until noon because it was Monday).  Then we hiked back up the hill to the car, stopping briefly at a big tree stump that E wanted to climb and sit upon.  We were walking for 90 minutes or more so I guess we did 4 miles or so?

Another good thing:  the new batch of sauerkraut is bubbling in the crock.  I used the same general recipe as before with kale and apples, but I added some sweet onion this time.  It affirms me when I hear the bubbles rise -- that means what needs to happen is happening.

amazing sauerkraut

Just gotta say, Bubbies can't touch me.  My first batch of sauerkraut is gorgeous, complex, not salty, sharp, and a little sweet.  It's crunchy and uplifting.  Can you believe all that was achieved on a first try?  I am so proud and am anxious to get done with all this death so that I can move on to more of the sort of decay that I can control a bit.

Morbid?  Yes, but I'm real. 

I am still so tired.  So tired.  So tired.

E and I went on a hike this morning in Forest Park -- went about two miles, there and back.  We talked the whole time about logs, trees, ferns, fairies, mushrooms, animals, paths, fish, rocks and water.

These sorts of walks with her are important and wonderful, and I prefer them to figuring out fun at home.  Today, though, I needed to hike up the hill fast and just be quiet so that my own mind could discharge some. 

But I am a mom, and that's how it goes.

the green tomato oracle speaks...

I know you've been waiting to hear more from the green tomato oracle...  Look! 

After 90 pounds of them -- some pickled, some chutneyed, some marmaladed, some salsa'd, some fried -- there is one single green tomato left because all the rest have ripened on the kitchen windowsill.  I'm sure this last green one will be orange by tomorrow.  So there you have it:  the green tomato transformation is almost complete!  We have cared for each and every one of the misunderstood beauties! 

Remember where we started from?  The first 58 pounds of green tomatoes?  I truly had no idea what I was getting myself into.  Then there were the 30 pounds that came later...  Ack!  But now they've all been honored in some way.

You also may be wondering what happened to my first batch of sauerkraut, made in the Harsch crock...  I had planned to wait at least a month, but I had a funny feeling about it this last weekend and opened the crock for the first time. 

I was scared, and my heart was beating so fast.  Nothing looked weird.  It smelled very much like sauerkraut.  I lifted up the weights and scooped some out into a bowl.  It tasted like sauerkraut.  It tasted great.  The texture was proper and crunchy.  I liked what the apples and kale did for the mixture.  The flavor right now is refreshing but complex -- not too salty. 

Most importantly, I am not dead yet!  So hooray for making real, live sauerkraut!

Many folks recommend taking out enough kraut for a few days' use and letting the rest continue fermenting in the crock -- hence the half-filled jar in the photo.  (Also, apologies, I'm not sure if sauerkraut is very photogenic, but I wanted to document that real sauerkraut was achieved.)  I'd say I have enough for another month's use so maybe in a couple of weeks I'll take it all out of the crock and start again.  From what I understand, the probiotics remain viable and healthful when they're refrigerated, but the fermentation process slows down substantially. 

The goal is to have alive, fermented foods every day, year after year.  Also, I see an advantage to having two of these amazing Harsch crocks.  When one is occupied, it's out-of-service for other pickling projects.  (Jennifer, the pickled green tomatoes you remember were made this way -- with just salt, no vinegar or heat processing.)

I'm pleased all around.

great applesauce

Today was a very hard day, but before we talk about that, let's look at these pretty jars of perfect applesauce.

Even the demon spawn enjoys it -- spices and chunks and all.  Good job, Cathy!  Yay! 

The GrowingCurious Method is this: 

• cut up and (mostly) peel the apples into lemon water.

• drain off the lemon water. (maybe save it for your next batch?)

• put the cut-up apples in a big soup pot on low with the cover on.

• wait until the apples begin to release some juice, and then you can turn up the burner a bit to cook it more quickly (keeping the lid on).

• use a potato masher or heavy wooden spoon to break up the apple chunks if necessary while they are cooking.

• when they are at the consistency you want (I wanted chunky), add lemon juice (four tablespoons per 12 pounds of apples, as per the Ball Complete Book of Home Preserving, which I saw at our Costco last night in a hardcover version), sugar (I didn't use any) and spices (I used cinnamon, allspice, and nutmeg in descending amounts -- but not enough to compete against the flavor of the apples).

• put in sterile jars, RWB for 20 minutes.

I was sad to discover that 40 pounds of apples made only 13 quarts of sauce and quite a bit of compost.  I'm sure there's a way to make applesauce with more peel than I used here.  (I like peel, but I was trying to make this sauce yummy for D and E, who loved it this afternoon.)

For all four batches (I could only process 10 pounds at a time), I used mostly Empire apples -- with Pinovas, Granny Smiths, and Liberties mixed in.  This is a really lovely mixture.

In a few years, we'll be using the apples that grow in our own backyard:  Honeycrisp, Chahalis, Fiesta, Pristine, Ashmead's Kernel, Akane, Centennial Crab, Oregon Crab, Evereste Crab, Dayton, Pinova, and Spitzenberg.   I can't wait for that.

In fact, let's forget about the hard parts of today and just think about applesauce. 

new life from bad applesauce

Yesterday, while I was dreading this family gathering, I tried to make applesauce for the first time -- the kind that you are able to preserve.

I followed the recipe on the first batch and used water.  Maybe I used too much water?  Maybe the apples had extra juice?  I could have boiled the pot for several hours and not evaporated the extra liquid in there.  I was bummed.  Bad recipe!

Later, I made another batch without water.  I just put the lid on the pot of apples and put the burner on low so that the apples could slowly create their own juice. When enough liquid was at the bottom of the pot, I turned the heat up.  Perfect sauce.  Now I know how to make great applesauce!

But I still have seven quarts -- 7 -- of bad, runny applesauce.  It's almost like juice.  I wondered if it would thicken after it was processed and cooled, like jam does, but this batch actually got more runny in the end.  So many great apples!  What to do?

Tonight I roasted two butternut squashes, sauteed some onions with curry-ish herbs, and added them together with a box of chicken stock and a full quart of the runny applesauce.  The BEST squash soup I've ever made!  Yay!  Thank you, worthless, runny applesauce! Two stars for Cathy!

Meanwhile, I have realized that, if you keep green tomatoes hanging around long enough, some of them give up and decide to ripen.  I still have ten pounds of very hard and very green tomatoes, but some of the rest are trying to become juicy and red.

This is an incredible process to witness and participate in.  Laugh however much you want.  For me, the bowl of green tomatoes is an oracle of some kind.

meanwhile... those green tomatoes...

My camera is at E's school today so I can't take a picture for you, but the green tomatoes are still here.  I made two batches of marmalade.  One batch is extra sweet.  One batch is bitter in an authentic, marmalade-y way.  I like the bitter one best, of course, because I'm a bitter old hag.  Or maybe it's because I'm so naturally sweet that I need the bitter to balance things out?  (I wonder which one Jon Stewart would like best?  D likes the sweet one.)

I'm not sure what I'm going to do with the rest of the green ones, though.  If I could find some cheap hot peppers, maybe I'd make another batch of salsa verde.

My friend P wondered why I'm wearing myself out with these green tomatoes...  maybe I should just let them go into the compost pile...  I just can't.  I want to "win" this cosmic challenge or "do right" by the energy that went into growing the tomatoes.

I'm not doing a lot this morning.  I need to run off to return some ballet things that E didn't like.  There are good pinto beans cooking on the stove, and the last of the reddish tomatoes are roasting in the oven with onions and peppers.  I think I'll make some chili with them all.  My mother often made chili for Halloween.

After I emptied the compost bucket, I went up to the top of the garden and picked a bowl-ful of figs -- maybe 10 Brown Turkeys -- the most I've ever harvested at one time because the tree is so young. 

even more green tomatoes

How many more green tomatoes?  Another 30 pounds! 

It's hilarious.  It's heartbreaking.  My shoulders still are sore from all of the chopping I did the other week.

There must be some cosmic message in all of this...

more green tomatoes!

I know...  it's becoming a joke, but there truly are more green tomatoes out there in the garden.  See?  I left these vines growing because they were healthier and had more air circulation.  But these tomatoes still haven't begun to ripen.

I guess I'll make a proper jam this time -- no chutney.  My gosh, what am I going to do with all that chutney?

So...  ummm...  big inner changes happening here.  I'm pretty grumpy and discombobulated, trying to make new choices and feel more empowered in my life. 

My cousin will be dying soon.  My father is still ill and keeps going in and out of the hospital (which my brother and I don't hear about until after he's back and brushing his teeth at home).  And I'm still trying to dig myself out of the load of anger my brother dumped on me a couple of weeks ago.  His half-hearted apology ("You didn't deserve it.") doesn't erase the very mean things he said or the entire week I spent confused and sad about it all -- especially when he warns me that he may unload on me again like that (ummm... no, dear tortured brother, that's not okay with me).

I'm still trying to figure out what being a mom is all about.  When does she need all of me?  When is it okay to do some of my own stuff?  I still feel that the best way for me to restore my health and well-being is through art/creativity of some kind.  I keep making exploratory gestures in this realm, but I feel inner urgency to make it a priority.

To this end, I re-arranged the "Creating Room" again.  Remember when I came to the realization that I'd never get time to do my own stuff in my own space unless I figured out how to share the space intentionally with E?

Well, the Creating Room has been working out pretty well in some ways.  I mostly have stopped calling it "my office," and E and I do quite a bit in there -- for her.  This weekend I finally decided to bring more of my stuff -- another bookshelf, books, and some extra art supplies -- into the Creating Room. I don't know why rearranging things helps me so much.  I also feel comforted now to have Rumi, Lynda Barry, Ram Das, Clifford Geertz, and some delicious fairy tale books (mine!) close to me while I go through these mountains of grief and anger.  I've felt so lost lately.  It helps to see these books because they remind me of what matters to my heart.

Meanwhile, those green tomatoes are hanging out there on the fence, taunting me... 

the chutney...

...didn't behave.  It took on a life of its own, and now it's 9pm, and I have been working in the kitchen for more than 12 hours on my precious day to myself.

It looks intense and glorious, doesn't it?  Well, please think good thoughts that it tastes that way in a month.

I feel cranky at myself about the chutney.  When one makes jam, "they" say that one should make separate small batches -- as per the recipe -- and avoid doubling.  I never understood the logic of that, but -- again and again -- my biggest preserving problems come when I try to handle too much.

Today I chopped those green tomatoes and came up with 6.5 pounds of them!  I didn't know I had that many left.  That meant I had to quardruple the recipe...  I knew better, but I did it anyway.  (I just wanted to be fucking done with the green tomatoes, okay?)

The ingredients filled my biggest stock pot to the very brim, and I had to remove five cups of tomatoes and apples in order to put the spice bag in.  I had to simmer the beast all day long on low-low-low so that it wouldn't boil over onto the stove (but it did anyway!  joy!).

It was so full that I had to watch the pot most of the day.  There was an hour or two when it was still cooking down when I could walk away, and I tackled the linen closet during that period.  (Yay me!)

But HELLO...  this was my very special day for myself!  I wanted to make sauerkraut and chutney, but I didn't think it would take until it was dark again!  The only sunlight I got was during the three times I took heaving tubs of vegetable/fruit matter to the compost pile.

I tried to watch a movie in between the hub-bub at the stove.  I've been wanting to see Little Children because I'm a fan of Todd Field (director) and Kate Winslet, but I had to turn it off.  I couldn't handle watching a woman unable to parent her child -- not today, not any day soon --  because I doubt my own parenting skills profoundly.  Maybe I can watch the film with D sometime, but I'm sending it back to Netflix for awhile.

What is wrong with me?  I want to honor the fruit and the vegetable bounty.  I want to do right by the good food that comes to us.  I wanted to make something amazing out of green tomatoes.

I have no idea if I succeeded.  It's a funny chutney.  Maybe it's a bomb.  But my day is gone, and those jars are there.  I don't know what it means, though.

making sauerkraut

It's 10am, and I've just finished putting cabbage, kale, apples, and salt in the Harsch fermenting crock. I'm letting some juices form for a couple of hours, and then I'll put the weights in and seal it up.   

That's the crock on the left -- very imposing, yes?  I got the 10 L version, and I couldn't quite figure out if that was the right size for me to get.  It looks huge from the outside, but there needs to be some headspace for the kraut to ferment.  I used three huge heads of cabbage, plus the apples and kale today.  I think the crock could hold a maximum of 5 heads of shredded cabbage.

D and E went up to visit relatives in the Puget Sound this weekend.  They left yesterday afternoon and won't be back until tomorrow afternoon.  I am a lucky duck!  So what are my plans?

Last night I watched chick flicks and reorganized my closet.

This morning I did the sauerkraut, and soon I'm going to make chutney with the last of the green tomatoes (my gosh...  will I ever be done with them?).  I'd also like to make some applesauce, but I may wait until tomorrow to do that so that I can procure a wider variety of apples.

There's a long list of other things to do: 

• roast some butternut squash and freeze some of it

• reorganize the linen closet

• go through the toys and pitch some baby things before E returns

• take some books to Powell's

• take a load of Goodwill

• mow the herbal lawn

• weed

• clean the floors upstairs

• clean the wooden blinds

• plant the cover crop seeds

But let's be realistic...  I'll be lucky to make the chutney before I decide to take a nap and watch more bad movies!

hey, green tomato friends...

Here is a photo of 14 jars of a new batch of Salsa Verde, made from more green tomatoes and based on the recipe in the Ball Complete Book of Home Preserving, which I mentioned before.

I am getting a ton of google traffic from folks searching on Green Tomato Salsa so I'll post my tweaked version here.  Mind your health!  I have modified the original recipe substantially, and I don't have a ph meter.  Okay? 

Cathy's Salsa Verde Recipe

• 7 cups chopped green tomatoes

• 10 mixed sweet and hot peppers, chopped.   (Choose the peppers wisely because you might like a variety of heat "notes" in the final version.  The tomatoes can't provide the complexity or depth of taste you're used to because they're green...  depend on the variety of peppers and the garlic to give the depth to the sauce.  The original recipe called for 5 - 10)

• 1 large red onion chopped

• 1 large yellow onion chopped (the original recipe called for two cups of just red onion, but I think my onions were large enough to give a little more in total, and I wanted the flavor of both kinds of onions.)

• one whole head of garlic, finely chopped (instead of the 2 cloves in the original recipe)

• 3/4 cup lime juice (1/4 cup more than called for in the original recipe)

• 1/2 cup chopped cilantro

• 2 tsp ground cumin

• 1 tsp dried oregano

• 1 tsp salt

• 1 tsp freshly ground black pepper

Pepare canner, jars and lids.

Combine tomatoes, peppers, onions, garlic, and lime juice.  Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring constantly.  Stir in cilantro, cumin, oregano, salt, and black pepper.  Reduce heat and boil gently, stirring frequently, for five minutes.  Remove from heat.

Ladle salsa into hot jars, leaving 1/2 inch headspace.  Remove air bubbles.  Wipe rim.  Center lid on jar.  Screw band down.

Place in canner, making sure jars are covered with water. Rolling Water Bath for 20 minutes.

I am using the garlic and the peppers to achieve complexity of flavor.  I also found that a version with a mixture of lemon and lime juice tasted really nice, and I might use a 1/2 and 1/2 mixture of lemon and lime juice next time.

You must be careful with these things.  Use this recipe at your own risk because it has been modified somewhat.  However, the variety of peppers and the increase in garlic (and acid from the extra lime juice) have made this recipe quite feisty.

9 jars of green tomato salsa

The Salsa Verde recipe from the Ball Complete Book of Home Preserving is a winner, as long as I use my friend JL's tweaks.  (They're serious tweaks, but the structure of the recipe remains.)  [UPDATE:  See this post for the tweaked recipe.]

In fact, I love this recipe so much that I might forget about tomato jam and put all the rest of the 58 pounds of green tomatoes into some version of this Salsa Verde recipe. 

This is a serious hurdle for me.  Salsa needs to be complex.  I want to be able to pour it into a bowl for chips, and I want to cook with it.  I can do both with this.

E goes to school tomorrow.  I have a short errand to run in the morning, and then I'm going to settle into some serious chopping.

These green tomatoes need to get in jars because I have 20-something pounds of apples that need to turn into sauce and the sauerkraut crock is coming this week!  Ack!

Is this crazy?  Or is this about me being determined to turn garden liabilities into assets?  Isn't there value in this weird work? Can I bring attention to something that might not have "fruited" in a way traditionally desired?  I want these tomatoes to feel loved.

Am I losing it?  Or is this what is required when one has a garden that does this?

15 jars of pickled green tomatoes

My feet hurt.

Jennifer, we must think good thoughts that these turn out.  I used the romas and all the small round tomatoes.  If the recipe turns out (which I won't know for a month), I'll send you a jar or two.

Now, this is what's next...  12 cups of chopped up green tomatoes. Do you see the tub of whole tomatoes behind?  Yes...  I am nowhere near finished with this project.

The pickles were easy.  I just had to cut them in half and take out the woody stems.  The bay leaves came from the garden.  Most of the garlic came from the garden, too.  Everything else was organic and came from nearby.

But I still fear that these pickles will turn mushy.  I had to RWP them for 15 minutes, which means they got cooked.  Let's just think good thoughts.

Now what shall I do with 12 cups of chopped-up green tomatoes?  Taylor, I like your suggestion for Piccalilli relish. The refrigerator is full of enough cabbage and everything else to make this work.  (Thanks!)  I also found a Salsa Verde recipe in The Complete Book of Home Preserving, but I'm not sure if it will taste good.  I hate to waste so much garden bounty on a whim because salsas are tricky.

Here I am with all the cookbooks... adither, I guess. 

My feet still hurt. I harvested yarrow today and also made cornbread and fried green tomatoes. 

I had to buy more jars today, and the lady at the store said, "Looks like you'll be busy..."  

I told her, "Sometimes the garden is the boss."  

58 pounds of green tomatoes

I guess I have a good eye...  here are 58 pounds of green tomatoes in good shape.  Five or ten pounds only made it as far as the compost pile.

So the issues are...

• What should I do with them?

• Should I just try every recipe that looks interesting because there certainly is enough of them?

• What do I have the energy for?  Seems like it would be nice to make a chutney or jam, some pickles, and a salsa.  That's a lot of work, and my energy has taken a serious nose-dive this weekend.

• If I pickle some, will they get mushy?  I would rather they stay kinda crunchy.

Come on, green tomato lovers, help me out here!

Do you see the white bowl filled with the green romas?  They came from one plant, and the huge tomatoes hung together on the vines like clusters of grapes.  I really wanted to taste these ripe, but not a single one ever made it.

I left four plants growing because they're in a different area that gets a lot of sun and air circulation.  The vines on those plants are still quite healthy so maybe some of those tomatoes will ripen.  (And that is a lesson on tomato placement for next year's garden.)

It was weird to harvest all of these and rip out the plants.  I have felt sad about the dumb tomato year.   My plants suffered from the weather as did many other tomato plants in this area.  Also, I got most of my plants from one nursery, and most of them suffered from some weird leaf curl thing that held back their growth during the last part of spring.  It took a long time for them to recover.

But I tried to keep my focus on the positive.  I'm grateful that I'm learning how to preserve things.  These tough beauties didn't grow in vain.  They will be enjoyed!  (Cynthia --ooops! --, only a pound or two seem as though they might ripen on the counter.  I'll try your trick.  Thanks!)

what should I do with...

...sixty pounds of green tomatoes?

Chutney?  Pickles?  Please help.

With the rain we've had, we can't hang the vines upside down and hope the fruit will ripen.  The vines are rotten, and the fruit must be rescued tomorrow.  60 pounds is a conservative estimate on what's out there.  Yes, some of them will be fried!  (I have some really great butter.)

impatient...

According to UPS, my Harsch Fermenting Crock left Seacaucus, NJ, at 5:24 A.M. this morning.

There's an outside chance I'll get it by Friday so may be able to begin a batch of sauerkraut this weekend!  Yippie Skippie!

The only other news here is that E finally ate and enjoyed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich today.  A new doorway has opened...

sauerkraut

While E was in her dance class, I was able to read for almost twenty minutes.  I got through a third of Sandor Katz's Wild Fermentation because it is so accessible. I came home super-charged about fermentation.

After E went down for a nap, I spooned out more from my almost empty jar of Bubbies sauerkraut and decided to research crocks.  I have a couple of old ceramic crocks given to me by David's relatives, but both of them have cracks or fractures in the glaze on the inside because they are so old.  (It took a lot of time to find these crocks and clean them so that I could inspect the integrity of the glaze.)

New crocks are expensive.  I am researching...

E has been sick and has regressed on potty stuff.  She's miserable but trying to dissociate herself from responsibility for herself.  I remember from my readings on macrobiotics that fermented, salty foods can help a young child find center again after a hard day or crying jag.  So I spoon up two bowls of sauerkraut -- one for tired mom, one for grumpy kid.

"I really love this, Mom!"

(Watching my young daughter eat sauerkraut makes me happier and more relaxed than I've been in weeks.)

"Well, let's figure out how to make this!  I have been trying to learn how to do that, and I think we can have fun with it."