Squash time part 3: the devouring (a/k/a what to do with pureed pumpkin and winter squash)

Pumpkin pancakes, photo credit Flickr user Rice and D, CC licensed

In our last episode of our little squash horror story, we butchered, cooked, and pureed our winter squash/pumpkins.  Now that we all have a freezer full of squash puree, let's talk about what to do with it.  First I'll share some recipes, then I'll talk about pumpkin or squash as pet food.

Squash for humans
The easiest thing to do is to Google your favorite pumpkin recipe.  You can substitute squash puree for pumpkin in any recipe.  Most recipes will call for canned pumpkin, which is usually a little thicker than homemade, frozen puree, so you may want to cut down the amount of water or other liquid you use in the recipe or let your puree drain a bit before using it.  Just experiment to see what works for you.

If you need some ideas for recipes, here are a few of my favorites:

• Pumpkin pancakes and pumpkin waffles - my husband and son both love these
• Pumpkin bread - Google around for a recipe that looks good to you
• Pumpkin cookies
• Pumpkin pie - of course.  Again, Google around for a recipe that looks good to you.  
• Pumpkin gnocchi.  I've only made this once, and I think I added too much flour, but they were still yummy with browned butter and crispy sage.
• Pumpkin cheesecake - I've had it in restaurants but never made it.  Maybe I'll try it this year. 

My friends rave about pumpkin soup, so you could try that too. 

Squash for dogs and cats

Pumpkin or other winter squash can make a great addition to your dog's or cat's diet.  Note: I am not a veterinarian!  I will share my experiences with squash as pet food, but please check with your vet about your pet's specific needs before adding anything to his/her diet. 

First, the felines: We used to have a very fat cat named Ted who would eat everything and was beginning to resemble a furry beach ball.  Our vet advised us to replace some of his cat food with pumpkin, because it's low in calories, and some cats love it.  Unfortunately, our otherwise gluttonous feline didn't like it, but if yours does, go for it. 

Now, the canines: We have two retired racing greyhounds, Fritz and Fergi.  Fritz has colitis, which means that he gets bloody diarrhea periodically along with the smelliest farts on the face of the earth.  The head of our local rescue group recommended pumpkin as a good source of fiber, which might help alleviate these attacks.  We add a couple of dollops of pumpkin puree to his food, and it really does help.  Some dogs love pumpkin and will eat it by itself, but Fritz will only eat it if we stir it into his food.  

On a side note, when we ran out of pumpkin this spring, we tried shredded zucchini, since it has nearly as much fiber.  It seems to work even better.  So if you have a dog with gastrointestinal issues, you can try shredded zucchini in the summer (when it's fresh from the garden) and pureed pumpkin from your freezer the rest of the year. 

Squash time part 2: the butchering (a/k/a How to cook and puree winter squash the mostly easy way)

In a post last week, we talked about winter squash (including pumpkins)--weird, warty, wonderful winter squash (including pumpkins).  Hopefully by now you've all come to share my obsession and have acquired a storage shed full of squash.  So go get a few; it's time to butcher 'em, cook 'em, and puree 'em.

Why, you ask, are we murdering innocent squash?  Simple--because they're delicious!  Our goal will be pureed squash, which can be used in lots of ways, which we'll explore in our next post.

Let's get started!  You will need:

• A pumpkin or other winter squash (or 2 or 10 depending on the size of your oven and your squash).  Note: you can use pumpkins and winter squash interchangeably in recipes, but you'll get the best results with winter squash or cooking/pie pumpkins.  The big jack o'lantern pumpkins can be a bit stringy or watery, and they don't always have the nice orange color we expect from cooked pumpkins.  But you can use them if you want.
• An oven
• A big ol' Norman Bates Psycho knife (any large, sharp kitchen knife will do)
• A smaller, sharp paring knife
• A baking sheet
• Some foil
• A fork
• A blender or food processor
• Freezer containers or bags

First, wash your squash (hey, that has a nice rhythm to it...).  You want to remove any dirt or other gunk, so you don't get your baking sheet all dirty.  Then line your baking sheet with foil to make cleanup easier.

Now, put your first victim...er, I mean squash, on a solid surface like a kitchen counter or cutting board, and cut it into pieces.  The smaller the pieces, the faster they'll cook, but cutting squash is hard work, so bigger pieces are easier.  Here's what mine usually look like: 

Put the pulp and seeds in a big bowl.  We'll come back to that. 

Put the pieces cut side down on the foil-lined baking sheet.  Why cut side down?  Because if you put them cut side up, they'll develop a leathery coating on the outside that won't make a nice, smooth puree. 

Cut as many squash as your baking sheets and oven will hold.  I cook two baking sheets at a time, because I have two oven racks.  

Set your oven for 350F and bake the squash for about 90 minutes, then check to see if it's done.  How do you check to see if it's done?  You stab it with a big fork!  (C'mon... What did you expect?  A gentle stroking?  This is my blog after all.)  If it's done, it will be very tender.  If it isn't very tender, cook it awhile longer, stabbing it every 20 minutes or so till it's done. 

When the squash is done, take it out of the oven and let it sit till it's cool enough for you to touch.  You can leave it out overnight if you want; just cover it with a towel so no dust or gnats get on it.  

Once it has cooled, grab your paring knife, peel the squash, and cut it into small chunks.  Throw the chunks into a blender or food processor and puree till smooth.  

Package the puree for freezing and (of course) freeze it.  I usually use canning jars for freezing, but you can use freezer containers or freezer bags.  I usually package my squash puree in pints, because most recipes only call for a cup or two of pumpkin/squash.  If you want to freeze your puree in recipe-sized amounts, you can put a cup of puree in a sandwich bag, then put the sandwich bags in a gallon freezer bag.  But that uses lots of plastic, which is a bit wasteful unless you wash and reuse your bags.  

That's it!  

But wait!  What about the seeds?  Squash seeds can be cooked just like pumpkin seeds, and they're just as yummy.  Everyone seems to have their own favorite method for roasting pumpkin seeds; just search online if you need ideas. 

Squash time!

Marina di Chioggia (front) and Galeux d'Eysines heirloom winter squash

Ah, fall: time for the leaves to turn color (but not here in SoCal), the temperatures to drop (but not here in SoCal), and your Rainy Day Gardener to become obsessed with... winter squash!  We love pumpkins and other winter squashes here at RDG headquarters, and we use them for all sorts of things: fall decor, demented-looking jack o'lanterns, baking, and even dog food (yes, really).  Let's take a look at the many pumpkin possibilities.

Growing them
It's a bit late to plant pumpkins, unless you live in Australia.  But you can start planning for next year.  Anyone can grow a plain o'l orange pumpkin, but we like to be creative.  I first got inspired to grow weird squashes (remember: a pumpkin is just a big winter squash) by Amy Goldman's beautiful book, The Compleat Squash, which I reviewed several years ago:


Now I grow all kinds of funky things, as you can see from the picture at the beginning of this post.  For some reason, I love funny-looking, warty squashes.  If you'd like to grow something besides a plain orange pumpkin, try one of the many heirloom seed vendors, like Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds.  Just take a look at their winter squash selection: lots of warty, funky goodness!

My husband's giant pumpkins.  For him, bigger is always better.

My husband also grows giant pumpkins, which look cool but are a pain to move without a forklift.  We don't do anything special to make them really huge, so ours won't win any prizes.  But if you want to grow the biggest pumpkins in town, check out BigPumpkins.com.

If you didn't grow any pumpkins or winter squash this year, don't despair: 'tis the season when pumpkin patches, vegetable stands, and even supermarkets begin stocking various winter squashes, including some weird (and even warty) ones for fall decor.  Some pumpkin patches even sell giant pumpkins, in case you want to impress your neighbors without breaking your back.

The great thing about pumpkins and other winter squash is that they do double duty: they look great on your porch in the fall, and they taste great on your table afterward.  If you have some now, you'll want to keep them someplace fairly cool, so they don't rot too soon.  If you live in the northern part of the country, you can probably leave them outside, as temperatures should be starting to drop (right?).  Just bring them in if there will be a hard freeze.  If you live down here in Hell's Half Acre... er, I mean Southern California, you may want to keep them in your air-conditioned house for a few more weeks.  Did I mention it was 104F last weekend?  Ugh.

One more tip: if you don't mind plain pumpkins, you can often get them free after Halloween, either from pumpkin patches or grocery stores or from your neighbors who didn't carve theirs.  Most jack o' lantern pumpkins aren't as good for eating (they don't all have that rich orange flesh, and some can be a little stringy), but you can eat them, or you can use them for dog food like we do. 

In a follow-up post, we'll talk about what to do with your weird, warty wonders after Halloween/Thanksgiving/whenever you're tired of looking at them.  We'll butcher 'em, cook 'em, puree 'em, and eat 'em or put 'em in the freezer. It'll be like a squash slasher flick!

Salad days

Photo courtesy of Flickr user randomduck via CC license

One of my co-workers recently asked me about growing salad greens, because her daughter loves interesting salads and wants to start growing her own food (yay!).  So I started thinking about tips for novice lettuce growers and decided to summarize my advice here.  

Salad greens are a great crop for beginning gardeners, because good salad greens are expensive to buy but easy to grow.  All you need is a little space (even a wide pot or two) and a somewhat sunny spot.  Most US gardeners should start planting lettuce in late winter or early spring (depending on your climate), but here in SoCal (and other warm/mild climates), you can start lettuce seed now for a fall and winter crop.  For those of you who don't live here in the land of movie stars and swimming pools, keep in mind that most lettuce can take a light frost, but a hard freeze will be the end of your crop. 

OK, enough preamble--let's get this salad started!  You can start lettuce from seed or buy plants at the nursery, but starting from seed is cheaper and will give you more variety, especially if you buy a packet of mixed seed, usually called mesclun.

Note for newbies: What the heck is mesclun?  Glad you asked!  According to that great gardening oracle, Wikipedia, mesclun "is a salad mix of assorted small, young salad leaves which originated in Provence, France."  Hmph.  That's what Wikipedia thinks. My mesclun originated in my backyard. 

Anyway, mesclun mix is a great choice for beginning salad gardeners.  One packet of seed will give you  a bunch of different kinds of greens (and reds and purples), and you can grow it in very little space--even in containers.  You can pick up packs of mesclun seed at most garden centers, or you can order from Amazon: 

Just plant according to the directions on the seed packet, water well, and keep the ground evenly moist while your crop grows.  

Here are a few tips for growing mesclun--or any other salad greens: 

• Plant a small patch of salad greens about every two weeks during the planting season rather than a whole bunch at once.  Otherwise, you'll have about three weeks of Paul-Bunyan-sized salads, after which you'll be stuck with your usual diet of beer and Cheetos.  
• Use some fertilizer. You can use just about any balanced fertilizer (ask for advice at your local garden center), or you can use manure.  Safety tip: Follow directions on the fertilizer package for use with edible crops.  You don't peel or cook lettuce--only rinse it--so you want to be sure that whatever you use is safe.  
• Protect your salad patch from marauding animals.  You don't want cat or dog poop in your salad!.  And if you have dogs who like to dig holes to China (I'm looking at you, Fritz and Fergi), be sure to put some barriers up to discourage their excavation.  I'm still finding lettuce seedlings in odd places, thanks to my darling greyhounds (the aforementioned Fritz and Fergi), who dug a huge hole in my salad patch the day after I planted the seeds.  *sigh*
• Use some kind of snail and slug killer.  Our dear terrestrial mollusks love salad. Be sure to choose the kind that's safe for kids and pets if you have any two- or four-legged critters in your family. 
• Dealing with insects: Some insects love salad too.  I don't use pesticides on my lettuce, so I occasionally find critters when I harvest.  See the paragraph on harvesting, below, for tips on debugging your lettuce.
• Weed regularly.  You don't want to harvest weeds accidentally with your salad, especially since some weeds are poisonous. 

Once your plants are a few inches high, you can start harvesting.  Snip some leaves with scissors, leaving at least a couple on each plant, so the plant will keep growing.  Once your plants are growing well, you should be able to harvest weekly. Try to harvest in the morning or evening or get them inside quickly, so they don't wilt in the heat.

The next step is to wash the harvested leaves.  As I mentioned above, you may find insects on the leaves.  To make sure you don't accidentally feed your family bugs (and thereby guarantee they'll never eat homegrown salad again), try immersing freshly-harvested leaves in a bowl of cold water.  Swish them around gently, then pour off the water.  Repeat a few times, till the water is clean, and you don't see any creepy crawlies in the water.  Drain, tear into salad-sized pieces, and either dry (gently) between towels or spin in a salad spinner.  Also, please keep in mind that homegrown produce--especially if it's grown without pesticides--won't look as perfect as the stuff you buy in the supermarket.  Your lettuce leaves may have a few holes, and you may have to wash off some bugs and dirt.  But at least you won't have to wonder what kind of chemicals are lurking in your salad. 

Now all you need is a good dressing, and you'll be ready to serve your salad.  You can buy bottled dressing, but why smother your beautiful homegrown greens in preservatives and artificial colors?  Instead, try making your own dressing.  You can find recipes for almost any kind of dressing online.  Here are a couple of my favorites: 

• Catalina-style French dressing from the Tightwad Gazette (buy The Complete Tightwad  Gazette on Amazon).  The French dressing recipe is also reprinted here, along with some other dressing recipes I haven't tried.
• Emeril's balsamic vinaigrette - simple and good

As the weather warms, your lettuce will start sending up seed stalks, a process called bolting--which always makes me picture my lettuce running for its life, while I chase it through the yard, wielding kitchen shears and cackling maniacally.  Yes, I did watch too many slasher flicks in the 80s.  Anyway, once your lettuce starts to bolt, it will start to taste bitter.  At this point, you have two options: pull up the plant and compost it, or leave it and let it go to seed.  If you let it go to seed, wait till all the seeds have ripened and fallen before pulling the plants up.  Wait till the summer heat passes, then start watering your salad patch, and the seeds should germinate, starting the process over.  Note: reseeding may or may not work for you, depending on your climate.  But it can be fun to try, and it will give you a good excuse to leave the plants alone till the end of the summer rather than going to the effort of pulling them up.  You aren't lazy--you're thrifty!

Today's garden recipe: bruschetta with homegrown tomatoes and basil

Breaking news: we have ripe tomatoes!  We've had cherry tomatoes for a couple of weeks now, but we didn't get our first full-sized tomato till a couple of days ago.  Now we can have fresh tomato sauce, thick slices of tomato on burgers, margherita pizza, and today's afternoon treat: bruschetta.  A couple of weeks ago, I had a wonderful heirloom tomato bruschetta at Pop Champagne Bar in Pasadena and decided I'd make it at home as soon as I had ripe tomatoes.  I didn't exactly duplicate Pop's recipe, but it was still pretty good.  Here's what I did; feel free to adapt to your own tastes.  Garlic lovers may want to add some fresh minced garlic to the tomato mixture.

Janet's fresh tomato bruschetta

• Fresh tomatoes, seeded and chopped (I used 2 large red ones and 3 medium green zebras; just use whatever you have)
• Olive oil to taste (I used only a tablespoon or so, because I'm not a big fan)
• Balsamic vinegar to taste (I used about 3 tablespoons)
• Sliced fresh basil (I used about 7 big leaves, rolled up and cut into strips with kitchen shears)
• Salt and pepper to taste
• Baguette slices (I used whole grain, presliced and bought for $.99 from the reduced for quick sale rack at Ralph's)
• Butter or olive oil

Mix the tomatoes, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, basil, salt, and pepper and set aside.  Brush the baguette slices with olive oil or melted butter and toast under the broiler.  Turn when brown on one side.  Caution: mine started to burn in less than a minute, so stay close to the stove and check them every little bit. 

Serve the toasted baguette slices and tomato mixture.  People can spoon tomato mixture on a baguette slice just before eating.  That way the bread doesn't get soggy.  

This week's garden recipes: fennel slaw and peach sorbet

One of the best things about growing edible things is, well, eating them.  Since I'm a glutton, I really get into the eating part of edible gardening (maybe I should rename this blog Gluttonous Gardening).  Our summer harvest season is just getting started here in SoCal, and we're already feasting.  Here are my two favorite recipes from the past week of harvesting and cooking (to respect copyright, I'm including links rather than the whole recipe):

• Fennel Slaw with Mint Vinaigrette: I'm growing fennel for the first time ever this year, so when I realized the bulbs were fat and ready, I had no idea what to do with them. A little Googling turned up this recipe, which turned out wonderful!  Even my "it's only worth eating if it comes from the drive-thru" husband and my "it's only worth eating if it has enough sugar to make an elephant diabetic" son liked it.  Yes, for real: my 13-year-old liked a fennel salad.  It really was delicious, especially after it had sat in the fridge for about a day.  The extra time mellowed the flavors a bit.
• Peach sorbet: Our peach tree is loaded this year, so I'll be having fun finding stuff to do with peaches (it's a tough job, but someone has to do it).  We bought an old ice cream freezer at a yard sale a few years ago and (finally) tried it out.  Neither of us has ever made ice cream before, but with a little pampering of the ancient ice cream maker, we succeeded in making the most wonderful sorbet I've ever eaten.  This is a very simple recipe from the Food Network - basically peaches and sugar.  The result tasted like a creamy, frozen version of a fresh peach.  Absolutely divine. 

Lest anyone out there think I'm a health nut, I've also had fun cooking up green beans with lots of bacon.  Once I've perfected my beans-to-grease ratio, I'll post a recipe here.  

How to plant tomatoes (or, Fish heads, fish heads, roly poly fish heads...)

 Love Apple Farms has some interesting, detailed instructions for planting tomatoes. Their most notable secret ingredient: fish heads!  All together now:

Fish heads, fish heads
Roly poly fish heads
Fish heads, fish heads
Eat them up, yum!

Or maybe that last line should read, Plant them up, yum!

For those of you who think I've lost my mind, you are correct, but not because of the fish head song.  The credit/blame for that one lies with Barnes & Barnes, whose novelty song was a staple on the Dr. Demento Show back when your Rainy Day Gardener was just a seedling.  If you're just dying to sing it to your kids/pets/plants, you can find lyrics, a Wikipedia entry, and a YouTube video online.

OK, enough with the fish heads.  Back to tomatoes.  I'll have to try the Love Apple Farms method next year, since I planted my tomatoes last weekend.  I didn't use any fish heads or other unusual ingredients, just some horse manure from my local landscape supply place (which, thankfully, does not feature piles of fish heads.  Can you imagine the stench?  The manure is bad enough.)  When I lived in Portland, I put crushed egg shells around the base of the transplants to help prevent blossom end rot and fend off slugs.  I like Love Apple Farms' idea of putting the egg shells in the planting hole (with the fish head), as it seems like the plant would get more calcium that way.

Do you have any special tips for planting tomatoes?  Or creative uses for fish heads?  If so, please share them in the comments.

I wonder if I can find a way to work one more instance of "fish heads" into this post.  Nah...

Spring fever for gardeners - plant lust!

I'm semi-sane most of the year (though my husband and son might argue that point), but every January or February I begin to feel the faint stirrings of my more primitive, earthy instincts.  A shy glance as I pass the garden department turns into a long, loaded look, followed by a lustful leer.  Pretty soon I'm in the throes of unbridled plant lust.  Such is the power of these urges, that even a soggy, stormy weekend can't dampen my desire.  So, last weekend I found myself donning my rain jacket and slogging through the lake in my front yard to go plant shopping.  Hubby and I were the only customers at one nursery (did I mention Southern Californians are weather wimps?), so it was a good opportunity for some leisurely--if soggy--browsing.  I ended up with an almond tree, a dragon fruit cactus, a mandarinquat (no, that isn't a disease or a pesticide), and some seeds.

I'm taking a mini-vacation this weekend, with Friday and Monday off.  Friday and yesterday were picture-perfect sunny days, so I had time to get most of this stuff in the ground before today's rainstorm (Hey, Portland, would you please take your weather back?  I moved down here to get away from rain.).  I also ran out this morning before the rain started to take some pictures, since a few things have changed since I posted the last batch.  Here's a quick photo tour:

Front yard - still a work in progress but getting there

All in One almond


Meyer Improved lemon


Double Delight rose - gorgeous hybrid tea with a heavenly scent


Dwarf Mexican lime


Ketchup and Mustard floribunda rose - new in 2012. I love the vivid red and yellow blooms, but unfortunately they have no scent.


Southeast corner as viewed from the sidewalk - still kinda scruffy looking, but we're working on it


Sweet pea blossoms peeking through the picket fence


Looking down the sidewalk - those are snapdragons in the narrow part of the bed. I planted some zinnia seeds between the snapdragons so we'll have some color during the hot season too.


Pink snapdragon


Yellow snapdragon

Back yard - fruit trees and vegetable garden

Garlic and shallots planted in January and thriving


Blossom on Dorset Golden apple


Little apriums!


Pluot blossoms


Little peaches!


Indio mandarinquat (cross between a kumquat and a mandarin). BTW, that ugly green net fencing is there to keep my two greyhounds from digging up and/or trampling my vegetable beds.


As you can tell, we're big on fruit trees around here.  Though I started this post talking about (plant) lust, my other favorite of the seven deadly sins is gluttony, and as a gardener I get to indulge that one too.  Perhaps I should rename this blog The Sinful Gardener!

Some progress in the new garden

The blank slate backyard is a little less blank now, thanks mostly to hubby.  He widened a path and built four 16x4' raised beds (yay hubby!), and we filled two of the beds with soil this weekend.  Here's the latest pic:


I've also planted a few cool-season veggies elsewhere in the yard--some lettuce, chard, and garlic in a small bed near the house, and some "Melting Sugar" snow peas along a trellis/fence by Mom's cottage.  I planted the peas in late October, and they're coming along nicely:


It's wonderful to be able to garden this late in the year!  

How to Ripen Green Tomatoes

I dread the end of the growing season for many reasons, but near the top of the list is that it's the end of fresh tomato season. Unless you've a) had frost already, or b) are sufficiently ahead of the game that you have already removed your tomato plants and cleaned up your tomato garden (and if you have: stop it! - you're making the rest of us look bad), there's still hope for at least some of your remaining tomatoes. This is the time of year when people post lots of green tomato recipes--chow chow, fried green tomatoes (at the Whistlestop Cafe even), green tomato pie, green tomato ketchup, and heaven only knows what else. But I'll share a dirty little culinary secret with you: green tomatoes don't taste very good. Instead of disguising them in pies or breading and attempting to sneak them down the throats of your unsuspecting family members, I suggest you ripen your green tomatoes indoors. They won't taste as good as vine-ripened tomatoes, but they'll taste better than those mushy red abominations you find in the grocery store.

Here's what to do:

1. Pick all your green tomatoes that look remotely mature and are in good shape. They should have something close to their mature shape, be somewhat close to their mature size, and not have bruises, soft spots, insect damage, or other major yucky spots.

2. Rinse or wipe them off.

3. Put them in in a single layer in some kind of container and cover them to keep out fruit flies and other pests. I use paper shopping bags. I put a layer of tomatoes in the bottom, fold the tops down to keep out pests, and put the bags in plastic trays to keep any tomato guts from dripping onto the carpet.

4. Store them somewhere dry and warm (warm as in room temperature, not warm as in Mojave Desert in August). According to a Wikipedia article, tomatoes stop ripening when the temperature drops below 54.5 °F (12.5 °C).

5. Check them regularly, removing any that are a) ripe or b) nasty. I check mine each week.

This method has worked well for me for years. Sometimes I still have fresh tomatoes at Thanksgiving, and I don't have to coerce my defenseless family into eating green tomatoes. What's not to love?

Tomatoes: sex, death, and cigarettes

NPR has a wonderful short piece on tomatoes at http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=106932330&sc=fb&cc=fp. My favorite quote:

The enigmatic tomato belongs to the same family as tobacco and the toxic, deadly nightshade, but that just adds to its glamour. Sex, death and cigarettes: Eden's forbidden fruit should have been a tomato.

And they mention a tomato-wrestling contest. Fabulous!

Using up those parsnips

I still have a bunch of parsnips in the garden from last season. It was the first time I'd planted them, and I had no idea how many we would eat. Apparently not as many as I planted. So I'm looking for some good recipes so I can use them up before it's time to plant this year's crop. Oh, wait... it's already time to plant this year's crop. Ah, well, I'm behind schedule as usual.

Anyway... Last night I made the best mashed potatoes I've ever made--and they weren't just mashed potatoes. They were mashed potatoes and parsnips, loaded with a bunch of unhealthy stuff like bacon and cheese. YUM. You can find the recipe for loaded mashed potatoes and parsnips at http://homecooking.about.com/od/vegetablerecipes/r/blv329.htm. I substituted chicken broth for the milk, since I don't like milk much, and they were still wonderful.

While I was searching for parsnip recipes, I found a few more that sounded good, but I haven't tried them yet.

• Sweet and Gooey Parsnips
  
• Candied Parsnips
  
• Honey, It's Parsnips
  
• Oven Roasted Parsnips
  
• Baked Parsnips
  

Happy parsnip cooking!

What to do with a load of tomatoes, Part 2: Fresh tomato soup

I wrote this post a couple months ago but just realized I never posted it. If you took my advice and froze some tomatoes, you can use those to make this soup, which should warm you up nicely on these cold winter days. Here's the original post:

Ok, so you've made spaghetti sauce by the vat, and you're still overrun with tomatoes? Well, go get your stockpot, because today we're making soup! I found a great recipe for tomato soup: It's super-easy, very tasty, and gluten-free. If you substitute vegetable broth for the chicken broth, it would even be vegan. I'm not going to post the actual recipe here, because it's on the Boston Globe site, and I try not to violate copyright because I prefer not to be sued. So, cruise over to http://www.boston.com/lifestyle/food/articles/2008/08/06/fresh_tomato_soup/ and check it out. The best part? You don't even have to peel the tomatoes! Just throw everything in a big pot, then process it through a food mill when you're done. It's a great way to use up late-season tomatoes that often have soft spots or blemishes. Just cut away the icky part and throw the rest in the pot.

What to do with a Load of Tomatoes, Part 1: Spaghetti Sauce

The tomato harvest was late here in the Northwest, but when it came, it really came! As I mentioned in my last couple of posts, I'm inundated with tomatoes. So, let's take a look at things you can do with too many tomatoes, besides throw them at people you don't like.

Last weekend's project here at Camp Crum was spaghetti sauce--a big vat of it. I use my mother's recipe, or the closest approximation I can find. My mother, like so many old-time cooks, didn't really follow recipes for things she made frequently, and the dishes evolved as she experimented. A few years ago, after she gave up cooking from scratch, I asked her to write the recipe down so I could carry on the family tradition. Here's what she gave me:

1 cup chopped onion
1 medium bell pepper, chopped
2 large cloves garlic, finely chopped
32 oz. tomatoes, fresh or canned. If using fresh, peel them according to the instructions in my previous post. No need to chop them - just drop 'em in whole.
16 oz. tomato sauce
8 oz. tomato paste
2 tbsp fresh basil (snipped) or 2 tsp dried basil
1 tbsp fresh oregano (snipped) or 1 tsp dried oregano
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp pepper
12 oz. sliced fresh mushrooms
1 lb. ground beef

Brown the ground beef, then add all ingredients to a big stock pot and simmer for at least a couple of hours.

I usually triple the recipe (which makes about 8 quarts), then can or freeze the extra. Even though it's more work, I prefer to can, because then I can make dinner super-quickly. It takes quite awhile to thaw a quart of frozen spaghetti sauce, even in a microwave.

How to Peel Fresh Tomatoes for Cooking

Keeping with the tomato theme, since I still have tons of the silly things, let's talk about how to prepare fresh tomatoes for use in recipes. First, put a large pot of water on to boil. While the water is heating, rinse your tomatoes and remove the stems. If you're going to use your tomatoes in something that will be cooked for awhile, that's all you need to do till the water is ready. If you're going to use them in a fresh sauce (i.e. you don't want them to taste cooked), cut an "X" on the bottom of each one. Cutting the "X" will make the skins separate with about 15 seconds of blanching rather than 30 or more.

Once the water is boiling, drop the tomatoes in, a few at a time. Blanch them till the skins start to separate, then fish them out with a slotted spoon and set them aside to cool. Once all tomatoes are blanched and cool enough to handle, slip off the skins and use them according to your recipe's instructions.

Attack of the Killer Tomatoes

No, I'm not dead. I've just been a lazy slob all summer and dealing with some family issues that drew my attention away from both gardening and this blog. But I'm getting back into the swing of things, just in time for the end of the tomato harvest.

Even if I lived in a tiny apartment with nothing but a balcony for gardening, I'd grow tomatoes. Those perfectly round, red impostors in the supermarket are unworthy to be called tomatoes--picked green, gassed with ethylene, and shipped in cold storage. Yuck. Why bother? I tend to go overboard with the tomatoes (I have about 25 plants this year), so by this time of year my kitchen resembles a scene from Attack of the Killer Tomatoes. I swear they multiply and are plotting the overthrow of the neighborhood. In future posts I'll talk about what to do with mass quantities of tomatoes, but tonight I'll give you a quick rundown on how some varieties performed in my garden.

It was a weird year here on the rainy side of the Pacific Northwest. We didn't really get warm weather till late summer, and it didn't last long. I usually have ripe tomatoes by early August, but I didn't get my first ones this year till almost September. I don't know how these varieties would have performed in a more normal summer, so don't read too much into this report. I grew about 10 or 12 different varieties of tomatoes, but some of the labels faded, so I can't identify all of them. Here's the scoop on the ones I can identify. Note: All links go to either Territorial Seed or Totally Tomatoes unless otherwise noted. With the exception of the Brandywine, I don't say much about taste, because to me all home-grown tomatoes taste great.

Willamette: Determinate variety bred for early ripening in the Northwest. For me, it produced a modest amount of medium-sized tomatoes, some of which split in the rain. They didn't last long on the vine, rotting quickly if not picked, and some had odd blemishes. Even though Willamette is a determinate variety, the vines were too heavy for standard tomato cages.

Roma: Determinate, great tomato for sauces. My Romas did really well this year! They were my heaviest producers, the fruits last well on the vine, and I had almost no trouble with blossom end rot.

Oregon Spring: Another determinate variety bred for early ripening in the Northwest. Mine produced moderately, kept well on the vine, and produced nice medium-sized fruits with good shape and color and few blemishes.

Early Girl: Well-known indeterminate hybrid. Mine produced modestly, kept well on the vine, with good shape and color and few blemishes.

Black Plum: Indeterminate. Mine produced fairly well and kept fairly well on the vine, though some had blemishes.

Brandywine: An heirloom variety famous for its taste, Brandywines are a staple of my tomato garden every year. They're huge, heavy, take forever to ripen, rot quickly, bruise easily... and are still well worth the effort for their flavor. Mine did fairly well this year considering our cool summer, but they've done much better in past years.

Taxi: Yellow determinate salad tomato. Mine produced poorly this year, but I'm not sure if the problem was the weather or the soil. Mine was planted in an area where other things didn't do well either, so I think I need to amend the soil and try again.

Juliet: Hybrid grape tomato (well... really it's bigger than a grape tomato, shaped like a Roma but smaller) on indeterminate vine. Mine produced prolifically despite minimal care, with no blossom end rot, no cracking, and no blemishes. They also kept well on the vine.

So... How did your tomatoes do?

Garden update

I can't believe I haven't posted since April! I've been so busy gardening, I've had little time to write about it. Since it's been so long, an update is in order.

It finally feels like spring here in Portland, now that it's almost summer. Once the cold weather finally ended, my garden exploded--mostly with weeds, but there are a few nice plants in the overgrown mess too. Highlights now include:

Roses, including the red climbing rose on an arbor leading into the veggie garden:



That bare spot behind the arbor is my tomato patch. The tomatoes are just starting to take off.

Calendulas

I planted a few calendulas last year at the corners of my raised veggie beds, so I'd have a little color amid the veggies. Most of them wintered over, and they also seeded a bit. So now I have huge calendulas from last year, all in full bloom, plus some little ones that should be blooming soon. They're so bright and cheery! I highly recommend including flowers in the vegetable garden. They add beauty and attract bees. What's not to love?

Lettuce



I don't know what I was thinking, planting so much lettuce. We eat salad almost every night, but we aren't even making a dent in it. It's great to be able to wander outside and pick a salad, and I love all the different colors. We may be overrun with it now, but I'll really miss the lettuce when the summer heat makes it bolt.

Rhodies

I've never been a big fan of rhododendrons, but they are gorgeous when they bloom.

I should also mention the newest additions to our family, our chickens. We have five pullets, about 7 weeks old. Hubby is frantically trying to finish their coop before they outgrow the plastic tub they currently call home. Here's the coop as of about a week ago:


We let them out to wander around the yard for the first time last weekend. I hope to post some pictures of them foraging in the garden, probably in the next few days. We're really looking forward to a steady supply of fresh eggs and fertilizer--not to mention cheap entertainment. Chickens are hilarious.

I hope it won't take me a month to post again. There's lots happening in the garden these days, but it keeps me too busy and tired to have much left for writing. What's new in your neck of the woods?

Strawberry rhubarb cobbler - yum

We had snow and hail here in Portland today! Ugh. Last night I moved 8 flats of tomato and pepper seedlings from my unheated greenhouse to my dining room to protect them from the hard freeze forecast for this weekend. On my way back from the greenhouse, I noticed the rhubarb, along with a few spears of asparagus. Desperate for something to harvest, I quickly returned with my kitchen shears. The asparagus I gave to my mother, because I can't stand the stuff. The rhubarb, on the other hand, went into the strawberry rhubarb cobbler I made using the excellent recipe posted at Simply Recipes. Try it with some vanilla ice cream -- it's enough to brighten even the coldest winter spring day.

Seed Shopping!

Based on Janet's recent advice on online seed and plant vendors she likes, I finally sat down last weekend to do a little armchair gardening of my own, ordering seeds from the web for the first time ever (from Territorial Seed). Yay for me! And, while I'm at it, yay for Territorial Seed too -- I placed my order Sunday afternoon and my package arrived Wednesday morning. Wow, they're fast!

I'm joining Janet to take the "Growing Challenge" this season, and have decided to give mesclun salad mix a try. Last year was the first time I'd ever tried growing lettuce, and I had gone with a butter lettuce of some sort (I forget what it was now) and had no success with it at all. The plants grew pretty well, but the lettuce itself was inedibly bitter.

We tried eating the leaves when they were younger, and then when they were older. We tried harvesting the leaves more often so it would put out more of them. We tried watering more, then watering less. We tried singing Beatles songs, then punk rock songs (I swear, those leaves perked up when I was humming The Ramones, but they still didn't taste any better).

Eventually, I dug the plants up and chucked them in the yard waste bin, because I resented keeping them alive any longer if they weren't going to do anything for ME in return. Whatever, butter lettuce. You're on your own.

I've since read that getting too hot can make lettuce bitter, and am wondering now if maybe I planted it too late in the season, or if full sun wasn't the best spot for it after all. This year, I'll do some reading on the optimal conditions for that mesclun salad mix before I put it in the ground and see if I can't do a better job of it. I'll be keeping you posted! I can't promise I can actually post weekly, as the Challenge dictates, but I will certainly try my best.

While I was picking out those seeds, incidentally, I also threw in some for Cosmos, my favorite flower. Chocolate-colored Cosmos (which I have never seen for sale anywhere, alas) was my wedding flower, and I just love everything about those plants. They have gorgeous flowers that last almost all summer long, it seems, and even their foliage is pretty -- soft and fluffy-looking.

My Mom plants a lot of Cosmos in her yard every year and hers typically do extremely well -- they get really tall and look absolutely stunning (the photo at the top of this post is of my twin sister and her adorable son in front of my Mom's Cosmos, by the way -- see what I mean by stunning? And thanks for letting me include this photo here, sis!). I'm not having that same kind of luck, though, and in trying to figure out why this winter, I learned that Cosmos like to be both hot and dry. It IS both hotter and dryer at Mom's house in Salem, Oregon, and maybe that's why hers thrive and mine struggle? But I also know I'm extremely guilty about overwatering everything (being thirsty gives me a headache, and I definitely project that onto my plants) so that may be another reason why my Cosmos don't seem to do all that well.

This year, I may try them in big black pots, so I can move them around and find the optimal spot for them, as well as get them up closer to the house where they'll stay warmer. They want hot and dry? I can give them hot and dry. Or, at least, I can give them "somewhat hotter and possibly a bit on the drier side." I'll let you know if that seems to work (it sure worked last year for our tomatoes!).

This weekend, assuming I feel up to it and it's not pouring down rain (I've been down with a cold or sinus thing most of this week), I'm hoping to get both my mesclun mix AND some sugar snap peas into the ground. I can't believe it's just a few days away from March already! I'm very excited for spring gardening, and looking forward to seeing how this whole Growing Challenge thing works out. Cross your fingers for my lettuce mix! And if you have any pointers on how to make Cosmos OR mesclun grow well in Seattle, I'm all ears!

Take the Growing Challenge!

I'm taking the plunge and taking the Growing Challenge! Follow the link for details, but the gist is that you grow some new edible item from seed and agree to post at least once a week about gardening. The new items shouldn't be a problem; I'm trying celeriac and parsnips for the first time this year, as well as a couple new things not from seed (Jerusalem artichokes and a plum tree). The challenge will be to post weekly, especially as the gardening season gets underway in earnest. Already I've started spending lots of weekend hours in the garden, leaving minimal time for research and writing.

So why would I want to participate in something like this? I suppose because growing edibles is a cause near and dear to my heart. I got my start as a gardener when I was about four, helping my mother plant squash and tend our veggie garden. As a result, I always knew where food came from (including meat, since we raised cattle, chickens, ducks, and even a turkey once. Trust me, there's something to be said for ignorance in this case.) I also knew what vegetables were supposed to taste like; hence I've never been able to endure a store-bought tomato. Now that I'm older and no longer a starving student, I've started buying organic produce, because I hate the thought of exposing my family to a bunch of toxins. Having grown up in an agricultural area, with crop dusters dropping who-knows-what near my neighborhood, I also hate the thought of farm workers being exposed to so much poison. So I'll do what I can, and gardening is a part of that effort. If I grow it, I know what's (not) in it, I can grow varieties that aren't found in the grocery store... and I can save a ton of money. Organic produce is *expensive*, and so are weird veggies like leeks and parsnips that I like to eat but don't like to pay for.

So there you are--a rambling dissertation on why I grow edible stuff. Care to join me? You don't need a big yard. There's lots of great information on growing veggies in small spaces. Maybe I'll work up a post on that topic. In the meantime, do a little Googling and give it a try!