Working Weekend Garden Plans

Last night in the dark I made one final, final harvest from the garden. It was 28 degrees this morning 6:30 a.m.—a pretty hard frost. So everything should either be dead or cease to produce at this point, which is right on schedule for this part of the world.

I went a little crazy planting the night shade varieties.

My peppers have flourished in these warm days/cool nights. This stuff is lucky to be alive considering the hot, dry summer we had. I have water bills to prove how precious this produce is!

This is what my garden looks like right now.

Sad garden.
Dead, dried leaves soon will be fodder for the compost bin.

Everywhere I look there are leaves… so this weekend will be all about clearing the refuse for the compost bin and pulling up all the remnants of night shade varieties hanging on.

After all I have pansies, lettuce and broccoli to plant! This will be the first venture for me to try to grow cole crops (and cold crops) over the winter. (Want to know the difference between cole and cold? Read more …)

I’ll be back tomorrow with something more.

Falling in Love with the Fall Garden Center

I had to be in Wichita Falls today for an appointment. So before coming home, I made a stop at Smith Gardentown. What a treat! I love to visit garden centers, farms and nurseries at all times of the year. This time I was just looking and trying to get ideas for Christmas for the various horticulturalists and ornithologists in my life.

I drove up and instantly loved the place because there were ducks on the pond, Canada geese grazing and little garden statues of pigs.

Canada geese!
A little concrete piggy for the Kentucky Pig!

I love to visit farms and nurseries in the fall because it shows me what plants look like in the fall – whether the foliage is colorful, evergreen or if a deciduous plant has pretty bark.

Little Henry will be a definite addition to my garden. Beautiful spring blooms, beautiful fall foliage!
Opuntia Prickly Pear-- Thornless!

In the hustle bustle of the spring some plants get overlooked, like this really cool cacti! A prickly pear without the prickles.

Then there are the perennial favorites … a Shumard Oak. I have one just like this in my front yard and this photo reminds me why … It’s beautiful and well adapted for our area.

Shumard oak tree -- excellent tree for North Texas.

A place with a friendly cat that comes meowing for affection is always a good sign. Two cats who are friendly and want attention and are neutered means that the people here care for lots of living things – not just plants.

This cat chased me down so that I could pet it.
Kitty #2 sleuthed across the patio to get a scratch.
Swiss Chard-- excellent for the fall kitchen garden. I think this is the "neon lights" seed mix.
Mixed pansies ... happy pansy faces.
Some of the greatest rose gifts are the blooms in the fall.

The garden center is always a good place to get gift ideas for the gardener. Look at these beautiful garden globes. We can just file that under the “pretty-stuff-momma-can-never-have-because-she-has-a-boy-and-a-dog-that-is-OCD-with-spheres.”

I can never have pretties like this ...
Cloche terrarium ... nice coffee table gift for the gardener.
A flag for everyone (at least in my divided house).
Bird feeders and houses for all the little finches in your life.
Happy pansy face, y'all!

Buttermilk Pie

Buttermilk pie is a real winner at any function. It’s old-fashioned goodness. And it’s so easy and non-fussy, I’m almost ashamed to share the recipe, (almost, but not quite). This is easy to double too, then you can take two yummy pies to grandma’s for Thanksgiving. This is another recipe that is hard to mess up and very novice-baker friendly.

A buttermilk pie in all its glory!

Ingredients:

2 C. Sugar

½ C. Butter (one stick)

2 tbs Flour

1 C. Buttermilk

3 Eggs, beaten

1 tsp Vanilla

(One pie crust in a 9 inch pie pan/plate.)

Mix sugar and flour then beat in the butter.

Add the buttermilk …

then the eggs and vanilla and stir it all together.

Get out your wonderfully prepared pie crust (see Never Fail Pie Crust). If you’re in a bind, the refrigerated pie dough will work fine. Pillsbury is my favorite brand. Pour the sugary goodness in.

Bake at 350 degrees for about 1 hour or until your pie is GBD (Golden Brown Delicious).

This is actually a pumpkin pie, but the image makes me laugh with Elvis Parsley and Days of our Chives standing guard over the baking pie.

Never Fail Pie Crust

Literally a page from my grandmother's cookbook.

In 1975 my grandmother published a cookbook titled Food for Body and Soul. In it are some wonderful recipes that are passed down for generations. (more about my grandmother’s cookbook in another post).

The Never Fail Pie Crust is one of those great recipes. This crust is easy to handle and doesn’t require a lot of precision, like most baking does. It’s always soft, yet flaky. Because this recipe uses shortening instead of butter, it comes together very easily. It’s Never Fail, because anyone can pull this off, regardless if you’ve developed a “feel” for the dough.

Pretty standard pantry ingredients for a pie crust.

Ingredients:

3 C. All-purpose flour

1 tsp salt (use table salt)

1 ¼ C. shortening

1 egg, well beaten

1 tbs vinegar

5 tbs water

All in.

Put them all into the food processor, and let it rip.

[If you don’t have a food processor, cut in the flour and shortening. Then add the wet ingredients.]

When it comes together in clumps, it’s ready.

Pretty much flour and lard.

Pull the dough out and shape into a ball. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate while you make your pie filling. This dough doesn’t need to be chilled necessarily, but it is easier to work with when it’s cold/cool.

Hanging out in the fridge, waiting its turn.

When you are ready for it, roll out dough on a lightly floured surface. This recipe makes enough for a double-crust, deep-dish pie or two single-crust pies. This can be rerolled without toughing and it keeps in the refrigerator for up to two weeks.

A beautiful pie crust.

Happy Pies, Y’all.

 

(buttermilk pie recipe coming next.)

Photographer in the Making

I came home tonight ready to write my blog post about pies and church suppers and small-town goodness. But when I opened up my camera’s files to see what photographs I had to work with, I got a surprise. (or maybe I should say gift.)

Apparently my son has been playing with momma’s camera.

Jdub’s babysitter, Flor, going down the stairs with coat hangers in hand. (Note blank wall where aquarium used to be).

Flor with coat hangers.

A picture of Jdub’s foot stepping down on the stairs. (This is a little unnerving for me, but I think it’s very metaphorical at the same time).

A blurry right foot. Better than a left foot, I guess.

A blurry photo of Flor putting something in the closet.

Action shot of Flor. I don't think she was expecting it.

Photo of wall and play closet. The walls are very blue – Jdub picked out the color himself.

Toys and stuff.

Photo of floor/rug in Jdub’s room, and the letters O, P and Q.

Hey man, nice rug.

He figured out how to flip open the flash … another photo of a right foot, and some trash. At least it’s in focus– progress.

More toes.

A picture of a partially eaten apple. There are about six just like this one—I think someone pressed the button over and over. We’ve made headway though—we are starting to experiment with composition.

Hopefully this wasn't meant for Snow White.

More experimentation with lighting and effects.

A study of light and shadow.

We’re taking risks here – experimenting with composition and perspective.

Apple in a different light.

An artist in the making …

Momma loves you, Jdub!

Aquarium Gone. Now What?

Aquarium, part deaux.

The aquarium in its glory days:

And the photo doesn't do it justice.

Over the weekend my husband started the process of taking down our 120 gallon saltwater aquarium. Three days later, and a whole lot of elbow grease, the tank and contents have been broken down and moved into the garage. The garage smells like Galveston, Texas. Amazing how smelly saltwater can get when it’s not moving.

It’s also quiet in the house – really quiet. There is no more pitter-pat of running water. No more whirl and hum of filters and pumps. No more fizzy bubble sounds.

Saltwater is seriously corrosive. It peeled the paint off the baseboard and discolored the the wall. We’ll be going to get a gallon of primer and matching paint so we can touch up [repaint] the wall. No wonder classic car enthusiasts don’t want cars from the coast or northern states where they use salt on the roads.

But now we have this huge, blank space in our main living room – a little more than 8 ft. of wall space. Everything is off balance. Before we had this nice balance – the fireplace on one end and aquarium on the opposite end.

Before/After

The initial set up
After the aquarium ... (the photo isn't great, but you can see the space).

I have a some ideas …

  1. Bookcases, you can never have enough
IKEA totally Rocks!

2. Kid space, with toys and games and stuff (all organized)

Yeah, right. Our crap never gets put back up and our kid is spoiled.

 

3. Art! (I’m not an art-y person but can appreciate a nice original, professional or amateur.)

Starry Night, Y'all.

 

4. A collage photo gallery — I take lots of photos of flowers. Maybe a good place for a collection of framed originals.

Zinnia blossom a few days before the "killer" frost.
Passion vine. Hearty vine that even the grasshoppers don't bother.
A Taos Mountain flower with a moth. Maybe a entomogy major can identify it.

 

5.  A wine rack (with wine, of course)

Williams Sonoma Rocks!

 

 

Nanny …  all I want for Christmas is a gift card to IKEA!

French Onion Soup

I remember the first time I had French Onion Soup. Actually, I don’t, but if you allow me to totally make up a story, it goes like this: I was hitchhiking across provincial France one summer when I was in college. After stopping in a small town for some bread and cheese, I noticed a wafting smell emanating from a cottage close to the marketplace area of the town. It was heavenly. It smelled like perfume…the perfect blend of peasantry and precision in food that carried me through the air like a Bugs Bunny cartoon where he gets the perfumed inner thigh smell of a carrot in his nostrils, which renders him helpless and catatonic as he slowly drifts thru the air towards the source of the smell.

I approached the cottage, knocked on the door, and was greeted by the most beautiful French woman you could imagine. She was fetching in the most humble ways…naturally beautiful, however she was reticent in seeing a stranger at her door who was sniffing the air like a bloodhound. In my broken French asked, “Qu’est-ce que c’est?”

Looking perplexed and glancing down at her feet, she said, “Ils sont mes chaussures.”

Actually, I think the first time I had French Onion Soup was at a Jason’s Deli or a La Madeleine or something like that. Either way, it left an impression on me.

Since I can’t recreate pastoral France nor is there a deli anywhere around me, I have to create my own FOS if I want some. Fortunately for me, my FOS is world’s beyond what you can normally find in a chain restaurant. Every young onion dreams of someday being the main ingredient in this powerhouse soup. So, without further adieu…he we goes.

Mise en place:

-two large yellow onion

-one large red onion

-one large white onion

-3/4c of cabernet sauvignon

-1/4c of port

-6 strips of bacon

-4-5 cloves of garlic

-carton of beef broth

-carton of beef stock

-provolone cheese

-a nice french loaf

Boil some water in a large pot and add a bit of salt to soften the water.

Add the onions:

Blanche them for 2-3 minutes.

Then dump into an ice bath to stop the cooking.

This will make the skins easier to remove. You want to remove the outside layers that are papery. They’ll be quite toothsome in the soup, and you don’t want that.

While they are cooling off, get your big stock pot out and render 6 strips of good bacon. Don’t cook on high…you need to be able to crisp the bacon up but not burn.

Remove the skins of the cooled onions.

Half the onions, then julienne into strips. You want nice bite-sized strips. If you cut them too thin, they’ll disappear in the cooking. Make them too big, and they aren’t very fun to eat.

Do this will all the onions.

The red onions make a beautiful addition to the soup. They’ll leach that red color out into the soup.

Once the bacon is crispy and the fat is all cooked out, remove the bacon. Save it for a BLT or something. Don’t throw away good bacon.

Add all of the onion to the bacon fat.

Stir them so they are good and coated with the fat. Add some salt to make them start to cook down to translucent.

Five cloves of garlic, smashed and diced. I like to leave the garlic in small chunks so it has some texture to it in the soup.

Curl your fingers in and let the blade of the knife hit your knuckles. That way, you don’t get cut.

Add the garlic. More salt if you need.

Fresh ground pepper.

While the onions and garlic are cooking, measure out ¾c of red wine. I like using a tasty table wine that is good enough to drink along with the meal. The combo of the wine plus the soup is a great complement.

Plus 1/4c of your favorite port. I had an open bottle of vintage in my bar and needed to use it.

After a few minutes, the onion will start to become translucent so that you can see thru the edges.

Gorgeous.

Add the wines to the onions. The wine will immediately lose its deep ruby color and turn kinda brown. We need it to mellow a bit before we add the stock/broth.

And a bit more salt. Taste this along the way. The salt helps drive the moisture out of the onion and make them soft.

After a bit, the wine will mix with the moisture rendered from the onion and turn all of the onion a nice pink color.

Now, since we are going to be serving red wine with this meal, I like to mix in beef stock and beef broth. Beef stock will have fat where the broth should be just about fat free. When you drink a red wine with big tannins, serve it with a fatty dish. The fat will coat the mouth and calm the tannins so that you can experience the fruit w/o drawing your mouth up.

Stock. In.

Broth. In.

Bring it up to a simmer, then cover and reduce the heat to a low simmer.

That needs to simmer on low for an hour and a half. At this point, salt and pepper to taste, but be careful. Over the next hour, the flavor is going to change drastically as all the flavors meld together. Now, notice that all we’ve added so far is salt and pepper for flavor. No herbs, no spices. That’s by design. The beef stock should be prepared with a bouquet garni for flavor. The natural flavor of the wine, the bacon, and the onion/garlic is going to be complex enough for us.

Taste it along the way. You’ll use more salt than you’d think, but be careful not to oversalt it. It’s best to get it to the point where you think it still needs just a bit more, then after the rest you’ll find that it’s perfect.

After an hour (notice the fat glistening on top):

After the hour and a half long simmer, turn off the heat and let it rest uncovered. While it’s resting, cut a french loaf into 1″ slices.

Olive oil.

Brush the olive oil onto both sides of each slice of bread, then salt and pepper for each side.

Into a 425deg oven until nice and brown.

The crispy bread is integral to a FOS.

When the soup is finished, ladle portions into a high-sided bowl or a crock.

Put a crouton right in the middle of the bowl just on top of the soup. Don’t push it down…just float it right on top.

Take a slice or two of provolone cheese and lay it over the crouton.

Now, some people like to turn their broiler on, slide the crock into the oven, and melt the cheese under the searing heat of the broiler. That’s a great way to do it. However, I like to use my kitchen torch to do it. I can be a bit more precise and get the cheese cooked to the perfect sear up close.

Seared:

Served with a bit of that tasty wine, and you’ve got yourself a delicious meal.

Here it is in its full glory. Bust thru the crouton that’s been soaking up that soup and spoon up the cheese with those onions.

And there you have it. French Onion Soup that will change your life.

When Frost Happens

One and a half days ago the weather really changed when a powerful cold front move through. The temps dropped considerably in an 18 hour span. It went from being summer to fall in a few hours. There was nothing gradual about it. But then again this year has been anything but typical … 10 degrees in February then 100 degrees in April. Really!? Seriously!?

Yesterday… (OK, 1.5 days ago)

Today …

The first hard, killing frost happened close to dawn today – it was 25 degrees at 8:15 this morning. The frost twinkled brightly all over creation this morning.

At the stop sign near my kid’s school …

Sun on the left, frost on the right. Awesome display of the warmth of the sun.

I attempted to cover my garden and a nice stand of Siam basil in my front flower bed. I had beautiful zinnias in orange and pink. Zinnias are a favorite of mine because they bloom constantly and do well in the hateful August sun plus they are drought tolerant. And we had a hell of a hot, dry summer this year.

When Frost Happens, Things Die.

Yesterday …

Today ….


The frost happened, and made this a very sad flower (and a dead flower.)

Frost killed this future eggplant.

Dead basil.

Although, the frost can bring about beauty of its own.

(How great is it to have a handy iPhone when you are driving down the alley and see something pretty?)

Welcome to the weekend, y’all!

Killing Frost and Terrorist Black Flies

The first day of November was glorious—a bright blue sky, upper 70s, no wind, overnight low in the upper 50s. Totally kick-ass weather for growing a fall crop of tomatoes, eggplants and chili peppers.

This is North Texas …It can be 90 degrees one day and 30 the next; we can have 100-degree temperature swings within the same year.


(February 2011. It was 10 degrees. 113 degrees August 5, 2011 after 10 p.m. )

I knew something was up because the last two days have been filled with black flies acting crazy, terrorizing me – at home, the office, the coffee shop, everywhere.

Black flies are one of the most annoying critters on Plant Earth. I grew up on a ranch with lots of animals pooping nearby, let’s just say you can never have enough fly swats, fly paper or bug zappers. But when the flies swarm and act crazier than usual, you know the weather is about to change. After a sudden killing frost you can walk around and see thousands of fly exoskeletons on the ground.

As a gardener, I know the end is near for my tender annual vegetables—it’s November. I’m in USDA zone 7B with an average first frost date of November 14. But, I’m clinging to the hope that I can nurse my plants along, especially since they just started producing fruit after surviving a wretchedly hot, bone-dry summer. (No exaggeration, it’s on record as the driest, hottest summer since 1950).

So I pulled up my trusty weather app on my iPhone and sure enough … big cold front moving in—decidedly not good for the garden.

I put in an emergency call to handyman husband to get supplies at the hardware store and I made a mad 5 p.m. dash to the feed store to get plastic sheeting. An hour and a half later we have the garden covered. (I am not going back out there to take a picture, Ok I took a picture this morning.)

The temps went from 70 degrees to 45 in about two hours with winds gusting up to 40 mph. I made one last harvest, just in case.

Jalapenos are beautiful, fruity and spicy-delicious right out of the garden.

Serrano peppers just off the vine.

Thanks for the help, sweet husband. Eggplant parmesan is in your future.

Hometown Halloween

Halloween is one of those holidays that, as a kid, you look forward to all year long. I remember moving to a neighborhood after college and looking forward to greeting trick-or-treaters, only to find that there weren’t many kids around. And they didn’t go to a stranger’s house, even if it was next door.

Halloween moved into the category of a reason “to party” as an adult. Then I left the big city and traded my zero-lot line home for a traditional neighborhood in a small town. Now married with a kid, I live on a street where I know everyone’s name, and their dogs’ names too.

Halloween has once again become something magical and full of whimsy. All the things I remember as a child growing up in a small town. My son, John, was adamant about being Mario this year. (I’m glad we had Fox News on … that always indicates that my dad is at my house.)

Here in my little town they do it up right. There are car loads and trucks pulling trailers full of kids, decorations and an abundance of children weaving through streets and yards.

My son is trick-or-treating at the across-the-street neighbor’s house – he got homemade sugar cookies. That doesn’t happen in the city. People will think you are trying to poison their kids, even if they live across the street. These neighbors are also retired teachers that taught science and algebra to me.

And it’s on! We trick-or-treat on something I call the “miracle mile” also known as Rodgers Drive. We can walk up our alley, cut through a neighbor’s yard and walk a one-mile loop and get all the good loot.

It’s a gaggle of girls plotting their next Halloween maneuver.  How much you want to bet that this basic scene will occur many times in the years to come? I’m glad I have a boy.

There are multiple generations waiting on the door step to give out candy because there are so many kids …

Not the greatest photo, but you get the idea… there are quite literally thousands of kids that stream through this cool  neighborhood. (We actually don’t live in this neighborhood, but we’re in walking distance!)

The intersection at Randy and Rodgers Drive … I wasn’t kidding when I said cars, trucks and trailers full of kids.

After our loop we end up back at our house and answer our own front door for the second wave of kids. Halloween is something of a marvel in our town. It really is something that looks like it was staged for a movie. By the way, we live in a place where we leave our kids outside to play in the street, which seems crazy in any place other than Arcadia.