Year One in the Garden

I've got a retrospective of my first year gardening over on Medium. Those of you who were interested into my foray should head over and check it out:

My father bit into the first strawberry of the season. He hadn’t even taken it inside to wash; just popped it into his mouth like ballpark peanuts. Seconds later, his face had gone just as red as the not-yet-picked berries on the plant. Before I could run for help, he sucked in a breath and gulped down the air, reaching for another one.

“Damn! Those suckers have a kick to ‘em.”

And that was the year we accidentally cross pollinated habanero peppers and strawberries.

I come from a long line of plant people: fresh tomato snobs and home salsa canners, foodies before foodie was really a word, dating all the way back to the village cheese monger. I have learned a lot of lessons from the garden

But this was my first year on my own.

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Later this week: Pumpkin Dessert, so stay tuned!

Italian Egg Drop Soup (Stracciatella)

Soup.

I love soup...

If I had to limit myself to eating only two kinds of food for the rest of my life, they would be pizza and soup. If I had to limit myself to one? As much as this pains me, pizza, it would have to be soup.

This soup...is spectacular. So much so that I made it twice in a week. And, not just because we really needed to use all the chard.

It's just a perfect soup for when the days begin to chill.

Italian Egg Drop Soup (Stracciatella)

inspired by Simply Recipes

[What You Need]

6 cups chicken broth

1 egg

1 T breadcrumbs

2 T parmesan cheese

2 cloves minced garlic

1 t ginger

1 t tumeric

1 t chili powder

1 or 2 bunch chard

[What to do]

1. Bring broth to a boil, add chard and garlic. Continue to boil ~5 min.
2. Whisk egg, cheese, breadcrumbs, and spices together in a separate bowl.
3. Gently drop the mixture into the soup. Allow to sit for a few seconds, then stir.
4. Allow to sit for a minute before serving.

Grape Focaccia (Schiacciata all'uva)

One of the best things about sharing most meals with someone else is that you can experiment a little with what you make. If I were only cooking for myself, there is no way on earth I would have attempted this recipe.

Why?

Well, for starters, I'm not the biggest fan of grapes. I know, I know. I'm the girl who made fun of her father constantly throughout childhood for liking tomato soup but refusing to eat fresh tomatoes. I get how silly it sounds for a wine devotee to be grape-shy. But there's a reason for that too.

Grape flavoring reminds me of a certain cold medicine that I was often given as a child. I avoid syrupy cherry flavored items for the same reason. I know the grape was supposed to make it better, but...I now have a lifelong aversion to grapes that aren't in wine form.

As I got older I found the Muscat and Sultana varietals. I began to realize (or so I assumed) that "actual" grapes taste nothing like certain childhood cold medicines. It made logical sense. Medicine wasn't made with actual grapes for flavoring, but artificial flavors. I told myself it would be fine.

This recipe, though, doesn't call for Muscats or Sultanas. This recipe calls for Concords, which little did I know at the time...

are the inspiration for artificial grape flavor.

Unfortunately, Concord grapes still taste like that childhood grape flavored medication, so I didn't love this, but people at work called it wine bread, so I suppose in the right hands this recipe could be amazing. Head on over to Food52 and check it out.

Preserving the Bounty: Sauerkraut!!!

I've been meaning to try this project for awhile now, but I admit I have always found it terribly intimidating. Sauerkraut, like spaghetti sauce, has deep roots in my family. I can remember many a childhood day that contained it. Also spaghetti sauce, though, I never ate the stuff in childhood. I referred to it as Sour Crap.

Eventually, I saw the light.

And it's a good thing I did too. Cabbage is crazy good for you. Fermented cabbage? Well, that goes and doubles things, now doesn't it?

So...with extra cabbage in hand, I turned to the source:

Now, you'll notice a few things about this recipe that differ from other instructions. Number one of which is the addition of sugar and vinegar. I have heard that naturally fermented sauerkraut (aka the super healthy stuff) contains neither of these things, only salt. This being my first time making it, using my nonna's recipe was important to me, so I opted to use these ingredients. I may change that in the future depending on my research.

Also my cabbage is weird because it's purple, but this is what we grew in the garden this year. It actually turns out rather nicely, just make sure you have some lemon juice on hand in case your hands or counters get stained.

Sauerkraut is actually easier to make than you think. My mental image of giant tubs of foul smelly cabbage notwithstanding. All you need is a 2 lb cabbage, some salt, and a mason jar.

First, roughly chop the cabbage and sprinkle with salt (and whatever else your person recipe calls for. Some I found use caraway seeds). You won't think it's enough salt, but trust me. Massage the cabbage, working the salt in until it starts to break down.

Continue for another two minutes or so, then firmly pack the cabbage into the mason jar (mine made enough for a quart), pouring any leftover liquid over top. For the next 24 hours, pack down the cabbage (I used a half-pint jar as it fit exactly) and keep in a cool, dry place.

Preserving the Bounty: Sweet Sauce [The Cookbook]

A week ago, Madre came to visit and we canned several quarts of sweet sauce (we also did salsa and pickled peppers as well, because we had an absolutely absurd amount of tomatoes from our garden). Sauce has been on my cooking bucket list since, well, pretty much forever. It's...got a legacy in my family. Nonno was well known for his spaghetti sauce (even though I refused to eat it until I was well into my teens - it's a long and terribly odd story that I'll save as fodder for the memoir), and Bisnonna's sweet sauce is a starting point for the majority of her main dishes.

As I am not feeling well; however, I will let the pictures and madre do the talking on this one:

Sweet Sauce: [madre writes] Brown a couple onions in a little oil. Blend your tomatoes in the food processor. This will blend everything. Grandma used to put her tomatoes in really hot water, then peel the skins off and squeeze the juice and seeds out of the tomato. You do whatever method is best for you. Add a pinch of salt, sweet basil, oregano and pepper. Let it cook for a little while. Then add a can or two of paste. Add some sugar to taste. Let this cook a good while so that it thickens up. All the amounts of the ingredients depends on how many tomatoes you are using. Use your own judgment. I like to can mine. Grandma would put hers in the freezer. Here again, do what is best for you. This sauce can be used as a base for vegetable soup, spaghetti sauce, and chili. Have some fun with it.

Pasta and Broccoli [The Cookbook]

I had fun with this one for a variety of reasons.

Number one of which is, I love broccoli. Always have. Probably always will. I was a weird kid in my youth. Any stereotypical vegetable that your average American kid isn't supposed to like, I gobbled down with  joy. My other favorite green vegetable is brussel sprouts. Quite frankly, I can't get enough of either and this year, we tried to grow both in our garden.

Growing broccoli is a bit of a fraught experience though. It has to be picked at exactly the right time or it goes to flower and then is no longer quite as tasty. Then, it has to be eaten fairly soon as the amazing antioxidant qualities that broccoli has degrade quickly after the head has been picked. No fun. No fair.

Luckily, Bisnonna was on hand with a fun recipe to use up the surplus broccoli that we managed to collect. I have no memory of this recipe, but it is simply delicious, and clearly someone does because it managed to gain inclusion in the cookbook. Take my word for it.

Pasta and Broccoli

Via The Cookbook (as told by Zia Sandy)

Bisnonna Writes: Fry an onion and garlic in oil. Chop up your broccoli in small pieces, put it with your onion mixture and 1 c. water and let it cook down until tender. Take 1lb pasta broken in 3 inch pieces, cook in a separate pan, drain and put with the other mixture. Add 1/2 c. spaghetti sauce. Let it cook a little so that the flavors mingle.

Amy adds: Throw in a few dollops of ricotta cheese and mix well. It really adds a nice creamy element.

Tabbouleh: Sicilian Style

There is a fair bit of Middle Eastern influence in Sicilian cuisine. It's most obvious in classics such as cassata, the use of couscous, and a fondness for apricots. This dish, which started as a way to use up an absurd amount of parsley from our garden, plays off those influences.

Sicilian Tabbouleh

inspired by Ina Garten with a lot of random additions by yours truly

[What You Need]

1 cup toasted wheat berries

3 cups water

2 tomatoes

1 cup roughly chopped parsley

1/2 cup roughly chopped mint

1/2 red onion, chopped

1/4 cup crushed pistachio

3 T. olive oil

3 T lemon juice

[What To Do]

1. Boil wheat berries in 3 cups boiling water for ~1 hour. They should soak up all the water much like rice.
2. Throw the pistachios in the blender if they're not yet crushed.
3. Toss all ingredients together in a large bowl.

It's that simple and it's a great dish for summer potlucks!