Summer Hiatus


As I sit at the kitchen table typing this, a cool late spring breeze pours in from the window. Outside, in my sight line, the bright blue and white kiddie pool sits, surrounded by wayward buckets and toys. The drone of large rider mowers from next door’s landscaping crew joins in the more distant hum from the neighborhood at large. Inside, the pressure cooker starts to hiss on the stovetop, a large batch of white beans in the making. As I eat a thick slice of whole wheat sourdough slathered with butter, honey and smoked salt, I am thinking of how school is almost over, and that we will soon drop into the wavy thickness of summer. Writing time gets more difficult to wrangle, so the blog will suffer as I spend any precious time I get to work on other writing projects.

In the meantime, I wanted to check in once more, before I sink under the waves of summer. You can always see what I’m up to on Instagram–lately it’s been all about the strawberries in my garden, which are slowly giving up one or two last berries. I’m not too sad, because I’ll try to get at least one visit in to Thompson-Finch Farm, as they just opened for picking. A bag or two of strawberries in the freezer is my goal. The ones I grow I just eat obsessively, the only preserving was three jars of syrupy strawberry sauce for golden cakes and vanilla ice cream.


I’m trying not to post too many photos of the snow peas, the seeds of which I generously received from John Scheepers Kitchen Garden Seeds. They are as tall as me, which I guess isn’t saying much, and they are producing abundantly. I have given pounds of them away to friends, brought several pounds to a garden day at my son’s school where kids grabbed handfuls and stuffed them in their mouths to my amazement, and I’ve eaten my fair share as well.

They are best dropped into boiling water, making sure they are all submerged, and turn off the heat. Let them sit, covered, for one, or tops, two minutes. Then drain them and give them a quick cold rinse. I’ve been eating them with a splash of tamari over white rice, and it’s quite the opposite of the meal it sounds like. It sounds like diet food, or a Tibetan monk’s meal, but really it’s rich and delicious, filled with sweet crunch, salty backlash and chewy resistance. The snow peas are incredibly delicious, and I can (for the moment) eat them every day and still love them.


Before I go, I wanted to mention the new book from Marisa McClellan, Naturally Sweet Food in Jars, that publisher Running Press kindly sent me. This is the third book by McClellan, and I really feel it’s my favorite. There are too many great ideas in here to list, but rhubarb-parsley syrup is one of them. So is date pancake syrup, which I have made and already finished entirely it is that good. Marisa is so creative, and I always look forward to the new ideas she generously gives to her readers. I only hope that her next one is about cooking in general, because I know her creativity, knowledge and excellence as a cook is massive, and I think we have only gotten a peek at what she is capable of. This June McClellan is teaching a class called Preserving Our Edible Bounty at the nearby Hudson Valley gem Omega Institute. Sign up for what looks to be a delicious weekend filled with beautiful scenery.

So cheers, everyone! I hope you have a great summer. Don’t forget to make some watermelon aqua fresca, which I drank a ton of over the Memorial Day Weekend when I bought a huge thirty pound water melon and took a knife to it. Once the flesh is in chunks, blend it with water (about 6 cups watermelon to 2 cups water) and then pour it through a sieve. To the resulting juice add some lime and a bit of simple syrup to sweeten a touch, though you might like it unsweetened. Watermelon juice is always welcome on a hot day, it’s cucumber-y crispness is what I love.

From my cutting board,


Grain Cake


It’s not a very tantalizing name for a cake, is it? This cake is a riff on that Italian Easter time  dessert, Pastiera Napoletana di Grano, a dessert made with whole cooked wheat grains and ricotta. It wasn’t a big thing in my house growing up, but we did have it every once in a while. It’s delicious in a very comforting way, slightly chewy, slightly custardy and not too sweet. I used cooked barley in it, as opposed to wheat, and impastata ricotta, which is a richer, smoother ricotta used for cannoli filling. I’m pretty sure regular ricotta will work just fine. And other cooked grains? Why not give it a try? Cooked grains add a great texture to cake, and the grains in it feel virtuous. I’m a proponent of anything that makes daily portions of cake a “healthy” option.

Last week, I started finishing up the items in the pantry that are more wintry, like pearled barley. I had a small amount left and got the idea to make a sweet dish, something like a rice pudding. I pressure cooked the small white grains (1.5 cups) in half coconut milk and water (equaling 3 cups) and a pinch of salt. Almost half way done, the liquids started coming out of the pressure cooker and it was a bit of a disaster, burnt coconut milk all over the stove. I went ahead and cooked it until tender with the lid off despite the mishap. (Not sure why it happened? My cooker is fine, as I cooked rice in it afterwards and it came out perfectly, no mishaps. It wasn’t overfilled. Maybe it was the fatty nature of the coconut milk? I’m noting it here, so that you may be warned.) I ate that coconut barley (which is what is was, a cooked grain, instead of a pudding, but whatever) for breakfast a few days in a row, adding cinnamon and maple syrup. It was tasty, with that slightly unyielding chewiness that barley offers. But I was over it after a few days, and there was still a bit left.

What else to do with it? I thought baked in a cake of some sort was the answer. But what kind of cake is that? And the idea of the grain pie came to me. I liked it because the grain pie is sort of involved, and I liked the idea of the filling but not bothering with the pie shell. The grain pie will often have candied citrus in it, but I wanted to use up some pear jam, so the fruitiness of this cake come from that. The jam also gives it moisture and cohesion, so I’ll bet you could swap it with applesauce and then add about a third of a cup of chopped candied citrus, if you prefer. This cake stayed moist for a good five days sitting out. It was quick to put together and a good easy breakfast. Who doesn’t want cake for breakfast?

Grain Cake

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 10-inch springform pan.

1 cup cooked barley

1/2 cup impastata ricotta

3/4 cup sugar

1/2 cup pear jam

2 eggs

1 cup all purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 baking soda

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon almond extract

Add the ingredients in the order they are listed here, but mix the flour, powder, soda, and salt together before adding it to the rest of the ingredients. Poured and smoothed into the pan, it was baked for about 25 minutes. Let cool.

Cultivating Mushrooms


I am a person filled with obsessions. Are you this kind of person? I’m not always swayed by things, but when they grab me I go along for the ride, hook, line and sinker. A few weeks ago I saw a post on a Facebook group I’m in regarding free shiitake mushroom plugs. I am always alert to the word “free” so of course before I thought about it, I said, “Yes, please!” And thus, my foray into cultivating mushrooms was started. I do love foraging for mushrooms, but wouldn’t it be nice if I could encourage them to grow right in my backyard?

I was talking to a friend the other day who shares this mentality: if I can grow it and I like to eat it, then why not try and grow it in my yard? Some friends enjoy growing only flowers, and I love them for it. Their devotion to visual beauty is laudable. My devotion is primarily culinary, although I do appreciate the beauty in all living things, even poison ivy, so why not have your yard do double duty? Perennial food crops are one of my favorite things: the rhubarb, strawberries and asparagus give me incredible joy. Also, the trees and the herbs that persist regardless of snow, or lack thereof, drought, rust, and disease. They are so incredibly strong. And so delicious!

When I received the mushroom plugs (small wooden plugs filled with a thread of shiitake mycelium) I realized that I might have said yes too quickly. First, I needed to find a recently downed oak log. Have you ever gone around asking your friends and neighbors for a recently downed oak log about 3 or 4 feet long, and 3 to 6 inches in diameter? People kind of look at you funny, even if they are like minded souls. It ends up, no one had a spare log lying around, so my dear and patient husband, who doesn’t share my obsessions, helped me by cutting down a limb off a young red oak that is squeezed on the edge of our road. The limb would probably be cut by the town or utility company soon enough, as it hung over the road, so I felt it was a responsible sacrifice. I duly thanked the tree.

After waiting a few days, while the plugs sat in the fridge, we drilled several million small holes into this limb using a specific drill bit. Then we hammered the plugs into the holes and sealed them with bees wax. What happens now? asked my husband. Oh, we wait for about six months and hope that conditions are right for the mycelium to fruit. He looked at me a little funny. I tried to tell him how it was worth it, that the shiitake mushrooms I buy from the store are $10 a pound! He nodded, knowing my ways.

So, now the log sits in a shady but damp spot, and we’ll see in September or October what happens! If you are interested in the details of growing shiitakes, here are some links to articles I was using as a guideline:

Fungi Perfecti

Mushroom people

There are a ton of great resources out there. You can also join your local mycological group, like the Mid-Hudson Myco Group.

Field Notes: A Cold Spring


What a whirlwind of a spring! In the beginning it was warm and beckoning, and it seemed as if every living thing was responding exuberantly, in denial of the possible brutality that springtime can sometimes offer. After a Friday with a high of eighty, when the magnolias were resplendently unfurling their dusky pink blossoms, the sabotage relentlessly began, first with dipping temperatures, then with a sprinkle of cold early morning snow. Then came the flagrant insult of six inches of deep wet snow, more than we had gotten all winter long combined. It melted off quickly enough, but the damage to early blossoms was done.

Then there was the cold—temperatures down to 17 degrees! Two nights in a row! After all that brutality, the cold continued to linger, up until even today. Last night hovered around freezing. I’m still covering my seedlings every night. Last year I complained that we never get a long spring, but be careful what you wish for, as they say. This cold spring is hanging around like a rude guest, and has everything in its thrall. Growth has been held in limbo, the leaves on all the trees just hovering before bud break. Fat cottonwood catkins tightly shut, red and green maple buds tentatively stretching, the light chartreuse of the willow leaves just pushing out.

In the face of this, it’s amazing how much survives. Gladly, even! The invasive garlic mustard, of course, not one to cower in the face of freezing temperatures. I have seen this new green growth freeze and thaw several times, and they seem happy as clams, lining the sides of the road, the edges of the forest and swamps, ready to handle anything the weather dishes it. The spicebushes are putting out their tiny pom pom flowers out, the skunk cabbage has been flourishing since February, and ramps, when you find them, elusively flutter their lovely fluid leaves. Bittercress, purple dead nettle, and dandelions proliferate. The wild places understand how spring works, even if we can’t grasp it.

In the yard, the grape hyacinths dot the lawn, staying longer than I have ever seen them in bloom, preserved by the cold. The snow peas I sowed on March 12 are still two or three inches high, weathering it all without ever being covered at night. The rhubarb is strong and crenellated on its sunny hill, so sturdy as it pushes up through the dirt. The strawberries right next door are leafing out, and there are already flowers! All of the seedlings seem to be thriving despite the cold, second leaves showing already on the radishes and spinach. It’s always amazing to see how well living things can do in the face of adversity, never worrying about the past, always present for the moment.





Buckwheat Walnut Cookies


We are experiencing a truly long and lovely spring here in the Hudson Valley of New York. In fact, I wonder if we even had a winter at all. After the last two years of brutal cold and snow, this extremely mild winter has us all feeling strangely disconnected, even vaguely apocalyptic. Nonetheless, I am still glad to see the magnolia buds opening, even if this weekend’s predicted cold snap will kill them all. Today will be almost seventy degrees, and the may flies swarming around my head this morning at forty degrees is surely a signal of that. Thankfully, they will all die in the cold snap too. A few years back we had a spring with a mean streak, and as you drove around the magnolia trees were hard to look at with their brown blossoms dead like fall leaves. This is also a tenuous time for fruit trees, for if we lose their blossoms, we lose the fruit too.

Regardless of the looming danger, the garden is alive with new details every day. The strawberries are greening up, the rhubarb is poking through the dirt, and the jostaberries are exuberantly leafing out. The seeds given to me from John Scheepers Kitchen Garden are all popping: snow peas, spinach, carrots, kale, radishes, and lettuces. I direct sowed them all in the second week of March. Spring is such an exhilarating time of year. To have that new and local green creeping back into our diets makes heavier winter fare and baked goods no longer so enticing. I’ve been especially trying not to bake too much, but I have a cookie-and-cake-craving sweet tooth that I can hold back on for only so long.

These cookies helped out by seeming to be virtuous, though I’m not sure it’s actually true. They are the type of cookie that you might take along on a long hike. They are quite hard, do not crumble at all, yet are so satisfying, both as sustenance and for that insatiable sweet tooth. I’ve only made them once, so if you try them out will you tell me what you thought? I added some dark chocolate to half the batch, and that was pretty tasty. Also, other sweet recommendations are welcome!

Buckwheat Walnut Cookies

2 cups buckwheat flour

1 cup walnuts

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/3 cup brown rice syrup

1/3 cup maple syrup

1/3 cup coconut oil

Mix the dry ingredients. Mix the wet ingredients–to do this you might want to heat them up so they are all liquid. I refrigerate my brown rice syrup, so it was super thick, and the coconut oil was solid, so this was necessary. Then mix the dry to the wet slowly so that it evenly distributes to a thick mixture. You may need to sprinkle a little warm water to make sure it all pulls together. Roll it all up into a log, seal with plastic wrap and let it sit in the fridge for a few hours. It will be quite hard when you remove it from the fridge. Have the oven preheated to 350. Slice discs (thinner will be harder, more cracker-ish, thicker will be still a hard cookie but more shortbread-ish) and put on a greased cookie tray or a tray with a baking liner. Bake for 15 minutes, or until just golden on the edges.


Review: Beyond Canning by Autumn Giles


The other day I received a copy of Beyond Canning by Autumn Giles, who writes about home cooking, gluten-free goodies and preserving (among other things) at the beautiful blog, Autumn Makes and Does. I am thrilled, as I’ve been following her for years, and it’s so nice to see all of her work in an amazing book. Said book has been joining me all over the place, as I like to have something to read wherever I go. Waiting to pick up my kid at school? You won’t find my nose in my phone, I like a book, thank you. And this companion was so chock full of information that I was entertained for hours, like a kid with a box of Legos. Fruits and vegetables, spices and herbs, sugar and vinegar, jars and bubbling ferments? I’m in!

The feel of a book is important to me, and I like the size and feel of this book–very much like a workbook, and I loved the very sturdy paperback construction of it. It travels well and can be trotted into the kitchen, perching neatly on your cookbook stand. (You don’t have one?) I’m a stickler for how cookbooks are organized, and if it isn’t intuitive, I get a little cranky. I love how balanced this book feels, with three main sections providing structure for the techniques explained within. These three sections are sweet preserves, pickling and fermentation, and each one has detailed instructions on how to navigate the various procedures necessary. The photography is beautiful, and the over all feeling of the design is bright and airy, like a sun-soaked kitchen.

You can tell that Giles has poured all the years she has spent fine tuning her obsession for local foods and preserving the bounty into this book. One of the maybe not so obvious bonuses about this book is that a few years back  Giles moved from New York to Arizona, so that both coasts are represented, with a special shout to the southwest. She uses her journalistic chops to really explain all the processes, and I don’t think she has left anything out. For the beginning preserver this kind of obsessive attention to detail is paramount. Yet, the book remains relaxed and friendly in tone, and is never boring or stuffy.

I had a glut of cherries from last year sitting in my freezer, so I decided to make the hot and sour preserved cherries which sounded delicious. My cherries were frozen, hence they deflated a bit, so I turned the preserve into a jam pureeing it a bit, so that the texture was less stewed cherries and more of a spread. I am in love with adding a kick of cayenne to cherries. It’s my new spicy sweet spread, and was just perfect on buckwheat toast with Greek yogurt. I also see it as a spicy sandwich spread, maybe with sliced chicken and melted cheddar cheese.


There were many recipes that caught my eye, in particular, the radicchio and sunchoke kraut. As soon as I dig up my sunchokes, I will try this out. Who would have thought to marry radicchio and sun chokes? There’s so many surprising combinations, like celery and black pepper shrub, alongside more comfortable ones, like pear cardamom butter. Enough so that this book can keep you interested for a long time. There is also a lot to like about the small batches theory that Giles works with: to can or not to can is a decision totally left up to you.

I know I’ll be keeping this one in the kitchen for the whole summer, in preparation of all the fruits and vegetables that will soon be coming my way! This review is part of a virtual blog tour for Beyond Canning, so don’t just take my word for it. This list is the group of cooks and preservers who are also enjoying and discussing the book. There are also a few giveaways, so make sure you check them all out to see if you can snag a copy of the book, gratis! Otherwise, you can always buy a copy for your favorite preserver here.

3/7: Food in Jars
3/8: Punk Domestics
3/9: CakeWalk
3/10: Hip Girl’s Guide to Homemaking
3/11: Snowflake Kitchen
3/14: Good. Food. Stories.
3/15: Heartbeet Kitchen
3/16: Brooklyn Supper
3/17: The Briny
3/18: The Preserved Life
3/21: Hitchhiking to Heaven
3/22: Hola Jalapeno
3/23: Cook Like a Champion
3/24:  Local Kitchen

Disclosure: A copy of the book has been furnished for review by the publisher, Voyageur Press.

Kinda Bars


I’ll bet you like Kind bars, right? I do too. I’ve made them quite a few times, and not only are they easy, but delicious. I haven’t made them in a while, though. The other day I happened to buy a box of “granola” bars and although I knew what I was in for, I was so disappointed. So, out came the brown rice syrup, the nuts and dried fruits.

There are a ton of Kind bar copy cat recipes out there on the internet, so if you are looking for the real deal good recipes abound. These are a little easier or lazier, hence the name. They are close to a Kind bar, but not quite. They took a few minutes to make, no heating of syrups, and stayed in a bar form very nicely. No crumbling, no falling apart. They are a perfect sweet treat–satisfying and truly sweet with no sugar added.

Kinda Bars

Yields 9-12, bars depending on how you cut them

1 cup roasted almonds

½ cup golden raisins

½ cup dates

½ cup coconut

Put all ingredients in the food processor until chopped finely. With the processor still running add one tablespoon of good olive oil, and then two tablespoons of brown rice syrup. Smooth onto an oiled pan, cover it with oiled aluminum foil, then use a rolling pin to smooth it out flat. You can use a large cookie sheet or a small pan, if you want it a uniform shape. Let sit about an hour. Cut into small bars. Keeps very well in a air-tight container.

Staying Hungry

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