When I started gardening all those many year's ago, first in my parents backyard and then in Grandma Gerarda's backyard, across the walkway from her awesome garden, I thought you planted in May and maintained whatever you planted until the frost. When I moved to the country, the size of the space I've been gardening for the last 22 years necessitated prolonging the planting season, but that's different than succession planting. It just took a month or more to get everything in. Over the years, I started practicing succession planting, but it was more about planting a couple crops of lettuce because that spring lettuce bolts and unless you have more coming, you are without garden lettuce after about July 1. That's just wrong. My successions have extended over the years. With the addition of the greenhouse, I can pick lettuce from about March 15 to the first of the year. The garlic came out around the 4th of July to be replaced by fall brassicas: cabbage, cauliflower and kohlrabi. It takes planning for brassicas, but there are plenty of veggies that just need a packet of seeds and a spot in your garden.
And it is that time: to think about planting veggies to take you into the frost. What a weird thing to think about on July 22, when the green beans are flowing, the tomatoes are turning and you're getting the wagon dusted off so your kids can walk door to door hawking all that extra zucchini (true story: my sister and I shlepped zucchinis the size of baseball bats up and down our suburban neighborhood, selling them for 50¢. More often than not, the wagon was still heavy with green clubs on the return loop and my family overdosed on ratatouille).
Despite today's bounty, this is your window. Your window into fall greens. You can plant lettuce, arugula, spinach, bok choi, kale, even beets from now until the first week of August. With the earlier nights, nights that are getting cooler, it is the perfect time for these cool weather veggies.
Don't worry if you don't have seeds. You have plenty of time to order, if you get on it!! The most important thing to remember with seeds is that they are certified nonGMO. (All organic seed is nonGMO.) As we're learning, this is not only important for the environment, for the integrity of our food supply, to maintain the viability of small farms, but it is increasingly important for our health. If you haven't seen Genetic Roulette or any of the other documentaries that are exploring the effects of genetically-altered food, they are real eye openers. Here's a link to some nonGMO seed companies if you need to order: https://www.facebook.com/notes/saving-us-all/a-list-of-gmo-and-non-gmo-seed-companies/334086699976625
For local folks, Roots has organic, nonGMO seeds on sale.
In case you aren't motivated, today's recipe, once you try it, will find you pulling up the flowers to make room for more bok choi in your garden. You could say I'm a bit obsessed. The only thing keeping me from making it twice a week is that my son doesn't like coconut, so he eats a soy dog when we have coconut soup and I can't justify him eating soy dogs more than once a week. Sacrifice. Parenthood is all about sacrifice.
Japanese Coconut Soup
For the Broth:
2 TBS. Miso (I like white, but any kind is fine)
4 cups water
1 tsp, crushed garlic or 2 cloves minced
1 tsp. minced ginger
1 TBS. sesame oil
1 TBS. lime juice
1 TBS. maple syrup or agave or sugar, whatever you have on hand
1 TBS. tamari, shoyu or soy sauce
1 can coconut milk
Salt and pepper
peanut oil for sauteeing (you can use olive oil as well)
1/2 cup chopped carrots
1/2 cup chopped onions
1/2 cup shitake mushrooms sliced
1 package extra firm tofu, cut into 1/4 inch cubes
1 cup roughly chopped bok choi, tatsoi or if you do not have Asian greens, you can substitute spinach or chard or kale
Rice noodles (optional)
Add miso to a large bowl. Boil the water and add to the miso, stirring a couple times to help the miso dissolve. While it is dissolving, heat some oil in a pot and add carrots. A couple minutes later, add mushrooms and onions. Sautee for 3 to 5 minutes. Meanwhile, add all the other ingredients for the broth to the bowl. Stir and taste, adjust seasoning, then add the broth to the pot. Add the tofu and bring to a boil, then turn down to a simmer. If you are adding noodles, put the noodles in the bowl you used to make the broth, boil water and pour over the noodles. Let stand for 4 minutes, then drain.
Just before serving, add the bok choi to the soup. Put the noodles in the bottom of the bowl. Ladle the soup over noodles and voila. Perfection!
Monday, July 22, 2013
Monday, October 8, 2012
Putting the Garden to bed and Veggie Pot Pies
I've decided that the startling beauty of a New England fall's chief
purpose is to mitigate the melancholy of summer's gone and the dread of a
long long winter ahead. Were it not for that neon pink shining
alongside salmony red sliding into orangey yellow rubbing up against
yellowy green, I may sink into the presnow blues that ain't gettin' no
better as the trees get bare.
You see, I love closure!
All summer long, we make daily pilgrimages to our beloved lake club only to realize that the season is over one blustery day in September when we haven't been there for a week and even if the weather turns back to toasty, the water will be too cold to go in. No closure.
I've been working on putting my garden to sleep for the last month, but as the frost date quickly and steathily approaches, I realize just how much still needs to be done. Lettuce and chard transplanted to the greenhouse; tomatillos, leeks, lettuce, arugula, broccoli, bok choi, carrots and fall brassicas harvested; potato area raked out (this will never get done); rest of the tomatoes pulled and stakes stored. The list goes on. I'll keep working on it, but there will come an icy morning when whatever I haven't done (raking the potatoes) is going to be past doing. The garden will be abed. Most likely, no closure.
But there is also something cozy and timely about this time of year. A time to come inside, both physically and psychically. For me, this means tackling the nether reaches of the house, spending time on the floor playing board games and puzzles, luxuriating in the tub, dusting off the sewing machine and the treadmill. It's also a time when we never let a warm and sunny day get squandered. It is a time of shared chores. Just take a drive on a crisp Sunday afternoon and see all your neighbors out raking, organizing, putting summer away, just like you'll do when you get home. It is a time of fairs and festivals, sharing community one more time in case next week's event is canceled due to poor weather. In case the bad weather hits and there is no closure to that fall feeling.
My sister died 15 years ago, not quite 35 years old. In the months after the accident, what I could not reconcile was that there would be no closure to our issues. We'd never sit around the table holding our coffee cups with both hands and put all our childhood, childish drama aside. Fifteen years later, what I've learned is that, despite my yearning for this kind of neat little box, tied with a neat little bow, there never would have been the kind of closure I imagined, probably no closure at all. Had she died at 85, me an old lady right behind her, I'd be left with open questions, unresolved feelings and the same loss.
For me, therein lies the lesson. I mean THE lesson. This need to have closure, to wrap things up neatly to avoid all these mixed emotions is merely evading the present. The reality that things never wrap up easily, that mixed emotions just means I'm engaged in this part of life. If I stay mindful and in the present, I'll let go of yesterday's easy routine of garden, kids, lake, garden and find the next easy routine that I need to make my life NOW make sense.
I love Buddhism because its first tenet is that everything changes. I hate Buddhism because its first tenet is that everything changes. But because I also love true, I love it more than I hate it, because I know that in the acceptance that closure is meaningless in the present, I'll find true contentment and I'll make room for much more. Eckhart Tolle explains that regret and nostalgia are merely reflections of a mind fixated on the past; worry and fear reflections of a mind fixated on the future. It is only in the present that true happiness can thrive.
But still, they are calling for a frost on Friday night, so you know where I'll be tomorrow. Out there in the garden, trying to get closure.
Nothing more humble and satisfying on a cold night than a pot pie. These are super versatile and delicious. Feel free to exchange the veggies I list with absolutely anything. Sometimes I replace the tofu with grilled soy sausage and pair it with peppers, shitake mushrooms and loads of greens. The recipe below is for the traditional carrots, peas, potatoes that especially appeal to my little people.
Veggie Pot Pies
Make six individual or one large
For the Dough:
1 1/2 cups flour
1/2 tsp. salt
1 stick butter
4 oz. cream cheese
For the filling:
3 or 4 large cloves garlic
1 medium onion
1/2 cup carrots
1/2 cup cauliflower
1/2 cup corn
1/2 cup peas
2 to 3 medium potatoes
One brick of extra firm tofu cubed
For the sauce:
2 Tbs. butter
2 Tbs. flour
1 cup milk
1 cup veggie broth
salt and pepper
1 egg, beaten
Make the dough: In the food processor, fitted with the steel blade, pulse flour and salt 2 or 3 times to combine, add butter, pulse 10 times until it looks like cornmeal, add cream cheese, pulse until the dough comes together. Turn out on floured surface. Knead to form into a log with blunt edges. Wrap in plastic and chill for at least an hour.
Make the filling: Chop the veggies that need to be chopped and sautee starting with carrots and cauliflower, a minute or two later add onions and potatoes, then corn and garlic and last the peas. Season with salt and pepper. Reserve the tofu. When veggies are fork tender remove from heat.
Make the Sauce: Melt butter in a sauce pan over medium heat, whisk in flour and cook for a minute or two. Slowly add milk while whisking to keep the sauce smooth. Let cook for a couple minutes until starting to thicken, then whisk in broth slowly. Cook over medium heat until sauce is thickening, about 5 minutes, whisking occasionally, then remove from heat. Stir in veggies and tofu.
Putting it all together: Preheat oven to 350 degrees. I use those ramekins with the handles for my pot pies. If you don't have large ramekins on hand, you can make it as one giant pot pie in a deep pie plate. If you are making them individually, cut your dough into 12 circles (otherwise, cut it into 2 and roll one for the top and one for the bottom). Flour your work surface and roll each circle out, reserving the larger ones for the bottom of the ramekins. Fit six of the circles into the bottom of the ramekins. They don't have to come all the way to the top perfectly, but should come most of the way up all around. Spoon the filling into the ramekins evenly. Lay the remaining circles of dough on the top of the ramekins tucking the edges of the dough into the edges of the ramekins. Beat an egg throughly. Then paint the egg on top of each pot pie. With a sharp knife, cut three slashes into the top of the pies to let steam escape. Put the pies on a cookie sheet or jellyroll pan, and slide the cookie sheet into oven. Bake for 20 minutes or until the pies are golden brown on the top. Remove and serve! And enjoy!!
You see, I love closure!
All summer long, we make daily pilgrimages to our beloved lake club only to realize that the season is over one blustery day in September when we haven't been there for a week and even if the weather turns back to toasty, the water will be too cold to go in. No closure.
I've been working on putting my garden to sleep for the last month, but as the frost date quickly and steathily approaches, I realize just how much still needs to be done. Lettuce and chard transplanted to the greenhouse; tomatillos, leeks, lettuce, arugula, broccoli, bok choi, carrots and fall brassicas harvested; potato area raked out (this will never get done); rest of the tomatoes pulled and stakes stored. The list goes on. I'll keep working on it, but there will come an icy morning when whatever I haven't done (raking the potatoes) is going to be past doing. The garden will be abed. Most likely, no closure.
But there is also something cozy and timely about this time of year. A time to come inside, both physically and psychically. For me, this means tackling the nether reaches of the house, spending time on the floor playing board games and puzzles, luxuriating in the tub, dusting off the sewing machine and the treadmill. It's also a time when we never let a warm and sunny day get squandered. It is a time of shared chores. Just take a drive on a crisp Sunday afternoon and see all your neighbors out raking, organizing, putting summer away, just like you'll do when you get home. It is a time of fairs and festivals, sharing community one more time in case next week's event is canceled due to poor weather. In case the bad weather hits and there is no closure to that fall feeling.
My sister died 15 years ago, not quite 35 years old. In the months after the accident, what I could not reconcile was that there would be no closure to our issues. We'd never sit around the table holding our coffee cups with both hands and put all our childhood, childish drama aside. Fifteen years later, what I've learned is that, despite my yearning for this kind of neat little box, tied with a neat little bow, there never would have been the kind of closure I imagined, probably no closure at all. Had she died at 85, me an old lady right behind her, I'd be left with open questions, unresolved feelings and the same loss.
For me, therein lies the lesson. I mean THE lesson. This need to have closure, to wrap things up neatly to avoid all these mixed emotions is merely evading the present. The reality that things never wrap up easily, that mixed emotions just means I'm engaged in this part of life. If I stay mindful and in the present, I'll let go of yesterday's easy routine of garden, kids, lake, garden and find the next easy routine that I need to make my life NOW make sense.
I love Buddhism because its first tenet is that everything changes. I hate Buddhism because its first tenet is that everything changes. But because I also love true, I love it more than I hate it, because I know that in the acceptance that closure is meaningless in the present, I'll find true contentment and I'll make room for much more. Eckhart Tolle explains that regret and nostalgia are merely reflections of a mind fixated on the past; worry and fear reflections of a mind fixated on the future. It is only in the present that true happiness can thrive.
But still, they are calling for a frost on Friday night, so you know where I'll be tomorrow. Out there in the garden, trying to get closure.
Nothing more humble and satisfying on a cold night than a pot pie. These are super versatile and delicious. Feel free to exchange the veggies I list with absolutely anything. Sometimes I replace the tofu with grilled soy sausage and pair it with peppers, shitake mushrooms and loads of greens. The recipe below is for the traditional carrots, peas, potatoes that especially appeal to my little people.
Veggie Pot Pies
Make six individual or one large
For the Dough:
1 1/2 cups flour
1/2 tsp. salt
1 stick butter
4 oz. cream cheese
For the filling:
3 or 4 large cloves garlic
1 medium onion
1/2 cup carrots
1/2 cup cauliflower
1/2 cup corn
1/2 cup peas
2 to 3 medium potatoes
One brick of extra firm tofu cubed
For the sauce:
2 Tbs. butter
2 Tbs. flour
1 cup milk
1 cup veggie broth
salt and pepper
1 egg, beaten
Make the dough: In the food processor, fitted with the steel blade, pulse flour and salt 2 or 3 times to combine, add butter, pulse 10 times until it looks like cornmeal, add cream cheese, pulse until the dough comes together. Turn out on floured surface. Knead to form into a log with blunt edges. Wrap in plastic and chill for at least an hour.
Make the filling: Chop the veggies that need to be chopped and sautee starting with carrots and cauliflower, a minute or two later add onions and potatoes, then corn and garlic and last the peas. Season with salt and pepper. Reserve the tofu. When veggies are fork tender remove from heat.
Make the Sauce: Melt butter in a sauce pan over medium heat, whisk in flour and cook for a minute or two. Slowly add milk while whisking to keep the sauce smooth. Let cook for a couple minutes until starting to thicken, then whisk in broth slowly. Cook over medium heat until sauce is thickening, about 5 minutes, whisking occasionally, then remove from heat. Stir in veggies and tofu.
Putting it all together: Preheat oven to 350 degrees. I use those ramekins with the handles for my pot pies. If you don't have large ramekins on hand, you can make it as one giant pot pie in a deep pie plate. If you are making them individually, cut your dough into 12 circles (otherwise, cut it into 2 and roll one for the top and one for the bottom). Flour your work surface and roll each circle out, reserving the larger ones for the bottom of the ramekins. Fit six of the circles into the bottom of the ramekins. They don't have to come all the way to the top perfectly, but should come most of the way up all around. Spoon the filling into the ramekins evenly. Lay the remaining circles of dough on the top of the ramekins tucking the edges of the dough into the edges of the ramekins. Beat an egg throughly. Then paint the egg on top of each pot pie. With a sharp knife, cut three slashes into the top of the pies to let steam escape. Put the pies on a cookie sheet or jellyroll pan, and slide the cookie sheet into oven. Bake for 20 minutes or until the pies are golden brown on the top. Remove and serve! And enjoy!!
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Garden as Metaphor for Life and Sicilian Style Cauliflower
There are any number of reasons why I love gardening, but the one I want to talk about here is that gardening is a great metaphor for life. Just as each person is on their own unique path, each person gardens in their own unique way. No two gardens are exactly alike. Gardens reflect the unique sensibility of the grower. In fact, gardens are a reflection of the personality of the gardner. I know mine is.
In my veggie garden, volunteers are often welcome to stay when they are gloriosa daisies or johnny jumpups or cosmos (or anything else that is pretty and not too invasive), so the effect is loads of color among the veggies and sometimes difficult paths to get to where you are going. The one so justifies the other. Perennials are left wherever they have blown off course until such time as I can scoop them up and put them back into their own habitat with other perennials; except that lovely lavendar malva that I let stay wherever it wants, often planting veggies right around it. It is one of the loveliest cuts (twice if you deadhead it), does not transplant well and doesn't sprawl too much. This particular malva is a finicky self seeder, so I just let it go wherever it will and that is why I've had it for the last dozen or more years; sometimes bisecting a row of carrots, sometimes in the middle of an aisle, sometimes behaving itself on the edge of a bed.
My rows are never straight. The whole effect is somewhat disheveled, but beautiful. Just like me. A little haphazard, but productive. Just like me. It has its over the top successes and its dismal failures. Just like me.
But it's not just on the surface that gardens mirror life. It was this August when I was picking snap peas that I started thinking about it. Yes, you didn't read wrong. August, snap peas. Same sentence. And no, I didn't get my peas in late. They just lasted and lasted and lasted. I had six weeks of peas. And don't ask me why. It was hot and dry in July. Neither condition would I say is conducive to long standing peas. But there ya go. Just when you plan to rip out the peas to make room for the cucumbers you planted along the edge, they just keep on giving. It was a great plan to put those cukes there. It made total sense. The timing was perfect. Except it didn't work. This year. And something so ephemeral as peas, that is what got me thinking. The thing about gardening is that no matter how much experience I may have; no matter how many lessons I've learned and put into practice in subsequent years; no matter how prepared I think I am, every year throws another learning curve. Just like life. Unexpected gifts (like the peas) stand right next to huge disappointments (this year the green beans top the list).
Here I am going along thinking I've got it going on and that I've learned all these lessons, grown, put ego aside, put mindfulness into practice, and then whammy, life hits. Conditions in the garden are unique from year to year and the challenge is not to get discouraged with the failures. People change too, my kids make developmental leaps that challenge me to my very core, not to mention midlife crises coming from left field. But the thing is, it's pointless to say, I'm giving up (I did throw my hands up with the chard when some critter nearly ate my giant patch to the ground in June, only to have the critter go away and the chard come back with a vengeance late in the season when I want to be eating chard). It's fruitless (literally) to say I'm not growing green beans again because I have these awful soft bodied beetles eating the plants and this year they got the better of me and my beans. No, I say, I need to get out there with the red pepper wax daily next year and get on top of the (expletive deleted) critters. And I also point to the long standing peas, the amazing corn, the carrots, yellow, gold, orange and purple that we've been eating since June and will probably enjoy into February.
I hope I have the same philosophy with life. I can get up from a sucker punch and keep moving forward; with joy and enthusiasm to boot. But lest I get complacent, I need only think about the dismal green beans and eggplant that flowered but didn't fruit to know that there are challenges ahead. And with that, I'm saving my seeds, preserving the harvest and jotting down all my little wisdoms in my garden notebook. As if they will be relevant next year.
And since I'm writing this as my fall crop of cauliflower is coming in ever so close to the frost date, here's an old, but consistent favorite.
Sicilian Cauliflower
One head cauliflower
One head garlic
2 TBS. grating cheese (romano or parmesan)
3 TBS. bread crumbs
Red pepper flakes (optional)
Olive Oil
Salt and Pepper
Bring a pot of water to boil. Cut the cauliflower into large(ish) flowerets. Blanch cauliflower in fully boiling water for 2 to 3 minutes. While cauliflower is in the boiling water, put ice and cold water into a bowl. Drain cauliflower and submerge in the ice water. Peel and chop garlic. Drain cauliflower from the ice bath. Heat olive oil in a skillet, add cauliflower, garlic, salt, pepper and red pepper flakes to taste if you are using. Sautee until cauliflower is browning, shaking or stirring the pan every minute or so. Once cauliflower is somewhat brown, take off the heat and let rest for 5 or 10 minutes. Turn oven on to broil. Transfer cauliflower to a pie plate, making sure you get all the garlic from the bottom of the pan. Sprinkle cheese and breadcrumbs on top. Put under the broiler for about 5 minutes until the cauliflower really colors on top. Serve hot. I like to serve with baked potatoes because the garlic, cheese and breadcrumbs make really yummy crunchies that you can put on top of the potatoes. Enjoy!!
In my veggie garden, volunteers are often welcome to stay when they are gloriosa daisies or johnny jumpups or cosmos (or anything else that is pretty and not too invasive), so the effect is loads of color among the veggies and sometimes difficult paths to get to where you are going. The one so justifies the other. Perennials are left wherever they have blown off course until such time as I can scoop them up and put them back into their own habitat with other perennials; except that lovely lavendar malva that I let stay wherever it wants, often planting veggies right around it. It is one of the loveliest cuts (twice if you deadhead it), does not transplant well and doesn't sprawl too much. This particular malva is a finicky self seeder, so I just let it go wherever it will and that is why I've had it for the last dozen or more years; sometimes bisecting a row of carrots, sometimes in the middle of an aisle, sometimes behaving itself on the edge of a bed.
My rows are never straight. The whole effect is somewhat disheveled, but beautiful. Just like me. A little haphazard, but productive. Just like me. It has its over the top successes and its dismal failures. Just like me.
But it's not just on the surface that gardens mirror life. It was this August when I was picking snap peas that I started thinking about it. Yes, you didn't read wrong. August, snap peas. Same sentence. And no, I didn't get my peas in late. They just lasted and lasted and lasted. I had six weeks of peas. And don't ask me why. It was hot and dry in July. Neither condition would I say is conducive to long standing peas. But there ya go. Just when you plan to rip out the peas to make room for the cucumbers you planted along the edge, they just keep on giving. It was a great plan to put those cukes there. It made total sense. The timing was perfect. Except it didn't work. This year. And something so ephemeral as peas, that is what got me thinking. The thing about gardening is that no matter how much experience I may have; no matter how many lessons I've learned and put into practice in subsequent years; no matter how prepared I think I am, every year throws another learning curve. Just like life. Unexpected gifts (like the peas) stand right next to huge disappointments (this year the green beans top the list).
Here I am going along thinking I've got it going on and that I've learned all these lessons, grown, put ego aside, put mindfulness into practice, and then whammy, life hits. Conditions in the garden are unique from year to year and the challenge is not to get discouraged with the failures. People change too, my kids make developmental leaps that challenge me to my very core, not to mention midlife crises coming from left field. But the thing is, it's pointless to say, I'm giving up (I did throw my hands up with the chard when some critter nearly ate my giant patch to the ground in June, only to have the critter go away and the chard come back with a vengeance late in the season when I want to be eating chard). It's fruitless (literally) to say I'm not growing green beans again because I have these awful soft bodied beetles eating the plants and this year they got the better of me and my beans. No, I say, I need to get out there with the red pepper wax daily next year and get on top of the (expletive deleted) critters. And I also point to the long standing peas, the amazing corn, the carrots, yellow, gold, orange and purple that we've been eating since June and will probably enjoy into February.
I hope I have the same philosophy with life. I can get up from a sucker punch and keep moving forward; with joy and enthusiasm to boot. But lest I get complacent, I need only think about the dismal green beans and eggplant that flowered but didn't fruit to know that there are challenges ahead. And with that, I'm saving my seeds, preserving the harvest and jotting down all my little wisdoms in my garden notebook. As if they will be relevant next year.
And since I'm writing this as my fall crop of cauliflower is coming in ever so close to the frost date, here's an old, but consistent favorite.
Sicilian Cauliflower
One head cauliflower
One head garlic
2 TBS. grating cheese (romano or parmesan)
3 TBS. bread crumbs
Red pepper flakes (optional)
Olive Oil
Salt and Pepper
Bring a pot of water to boil. Cut the cauliflower into large(ish) flowerets. Blanch cauliflower in fully boiling water for 2 to 3 minutes. While cauliflower is in the boiling water, put ice and cold water into a bowl. Drain cauliflower and submerge in the ice water. Peel and chop garlic. Drain cauliflower from the ice bath. Heat olive oil in a skillet, add cauliflower, garlic, salt, pepper and red pepper flakes to taste if you are using. Sautee until cauliflower is browning, shaking or stirring the pan every minute or so. Once cauliflower is somewhat brown, take off the heat and let rest for 5 or 10 minutes. Turn oven on to broil. Transfer cauliflower to a pie plate, making sure you get all the garlic from the bottom of the pan. Sprinkle cheese and breadcrumbs on top. Put under the broiler for about 5 minutes until the cauliflower really colors on top. Serve hot. I like to serve with baked potatoes because the garlic, cheese and breadcrumbs make really yummy crunchies that you can put on top of the potatoes. Enjoy!!
Saturday, March 31, 2012
The Best of 2011 and Sqash Pasta (or fancy Mac & Cheese)
The 2012 gardening season is upon us. Half a week at 80 degrees (in March) was only the exclamation point on the most mild and dry winter I can remember in New England and I've been here since 1983. Without feet of snow, there promises no mud season. With warm temperatures so early, the promise of early peas, lettuce, spinach acts as the great motivator to get outside and get digging. The sunroom is full of starts: tomatoes, peppers, eggplant, broccoli and all its brassica relatives, storage onions, leeks and shallots. You can hear my little squeals all over the house as I find the first true leaves on the tomatoes and peppers. These are exciting times.
The report from the greenhouse is no less squeal inspiring (yes, I know I should have had a hyphen there, but after the boy took an enormous leap from table to couch where the computer was precariously resting and itself took a leap onto the floor, we're feeling lucky that it is only a cracked screen and a missing hyphen.) Alas, I digress. Where was I? The greenhouse. Awe inspiring. Yes. We've been harvesting spinach for a month. We ate winter carrots for in January and February that were out of this world. Lettuce is just around the corner. And we've had fresh chard all winter after I, last minute before the frost, transferred five or six plants into this warmer climate. Ahhhh!
All this looking ahead and making plans reminded me to reflect on what was successful last year and I wanted to share a few of these with you as you look to your gardens or plan your trips to farmers markets in thoughts of (sorry for bursting your bubble) next winter which may not be so forgiving. And what better way to share? A top ten list. . .
Heidi's 2011 Top Ten Super Easy Ways to Preserve the Harvest for Winter, Eat More Sustainably, More Deliciously and More Cheaply!!
10. Jam. Strawberries, Raspberries, Blueberries, Peaches, Gooseberries, sugar and some pectin and you have a winter's worth of PB&Js, thumbprint cookies, fruit bars, you name it. I used half a jar of raspberry jelly and frozen peaches (see #5) to make killer filling for turnovers a few weeks ago. Commercial jam has more sugar than fruit and is super expensive. You can make your own with much less sugar, especially if you use Universal Pectin instead of Surejell.
9. Zucchini Muffins. That's double chocolate zucchini muffins. The recipe is on this very blog back in 2009. But come on, if you garden and you grow zucchini, there is a point when you are inundated. If you don't grow your own, you can get them from farmers who are themselves inundated for next to nothing from mid July on to the end of the summer. I make double batches of muffins every two or three weeks until the zucchinis are gone (sometimes that's when the snow if falling). There's nothing like a muffin and a cup of tea on a snowy day. I can offer the kids these nutritious goodies all winter long. I also make blueberry crumb cake, apple cake and pumpkin muffins for the freezer stacked next to the zucchini muffins. A little variety.
8. Greens. For us that means chard and spinach, but for you that might mean kale, collards. It all works the same. I chop it and saute it in olive oil and then put it in baggies in the freezer. It comes out tasting just like it did when it went in! We use it in all kinds of soups (white bean and chard is a favorite!!), in enchiladas, quiche or frittata. Well worth the effort.
7. Pickles. Not just cucumbers either. Mixed veggie pickles are our favorite, with cauliflower, carrots, beans, peppers, onions and yes, cukes too. I put it in a sweet tumeric brine and it is incredible. The veggies are crunchy and tangy and sweet. Did I already say there're incredible? We also pickle beets and corn (corn relish with peppers and onions). We eat all of these all winter on salads, as a snack, as a side dish. And pickling is not as hard as you think. Just google some recipes and go to town.
6. Canning Blueberry Pie Filling. What is better than a blueberry pie in July? A "fresh" blueberry pie in February!!! We pick loads of blueberries at the height of the season. Most of them get frozen or eaten fresh. But I make sure to make one pick a pie pick. I make a huge batch of pie filling (where you sweeten it, add lemon zest and thicken it) and after making a fresh pie, I can 4 quarts and 4 pints. That's 4 pies worth for the winter. Just make a crust, fill it with a jar or two of filling and you're all set. I also just used one of the pints for turnovers and they were out of this world. You can do the same thing with peach pie filling or apple pie filling too.
5. Freezing peaches, strawberries. In years past I bought a ton of frozen fruit for the winter. But why? It never tastes that great. Not like local fruit you've picked at the height of the season and frozen. Not like the peaches that drip juices all over your arms and onto the floor. It is worth the mopping for these tasty treats all winter. And SOOOOOOO much cheaper than buying organic fruit from far away, fresh or frozen. And so easy. Strawberries, you just cut off the "greenies" as we call them and pop them in a bag. Peaches (or nectarines) you peal, slice. I put them in a huge bowl and fill the bags once the bowl is full of fruit. It cuts down on the mess of filling the bags when your hands are so juicy and you don't get as much juice in with the fruit. The juice in the bottom of the bowl, we drink or use in a smoothie afterwards. And speaking of smoothies, I make them all winter long with these delicious treats, a little apple juice and my new find, Chia Seeds! If you want to read about Chia Seeds, treat yourself to Christopher McDougall's Born to Run, a fascinating and fun read. I get the peaches by the bushel at the orchard. I tell them I want jam peaches and they sell them for next to nothing. They are usually super ripe (which is why they are in the jam box), but besides that, they are perfect. I cull through the bushels and put the perfect and not as ripe ones in the fridge for eating, then process the rest.
4. Freezing blueberries. You may be asking why I made this a separate category from #5. It is because frozen blueberries are that important. If you can't get to the strawberries and the peaches, okay. But by all means, get to the blueberries. You won't regret it. Not only are they great in smoothies and on yogurt, but you can just eat them. Completely frozen, mostly frozen, a little frozen or thawed. We have fruity dessert after dinner and my kids eat bowls of these things. I do too. When we have game night, I put out a big bowl of blueberries and a big bowl of popcorn. Around here there are lots of high bush farms where the berries are easy to pick and the season is long. We are nowhere near as fanatical as a lot of people I know around here, but we probably pick about 60 pounds for the freezer, the jar and for fresh eating (and that's in addition to the 20 high bush plants we have in our own garden.)
3. Eggplant. I just cannot bring myself to buy eggplant from far away. That used to be a problem because in this house of Italian folk, eggplant parmesan is a bigtime favorite. For the last five years or more, though, I've been freezing either the parmesan completely made or the eggplant that has been breaded and, here's the most awesome part, BAKED! A friend turned me on to baking the eggplant instead of frying it and it is way way way better. You use a fraction of the oil, it is not greasy and when you freeze it, the pieces do not stick together, so that when they are thawed, all the breading gets all over the place. These pieces stay in tact through the whole process. My new favorite is to make rollatini with the frozen eggplant. Same as parmesan only you roll a bit of filling in each piece and then put sauce on top. One layer in the pan. Quicker to make, quicker to bake. Do this. You will not be sorry. And eggplant is plentiful and delicious at farmers markets in August and September.
2. Freezing corn. If you do nothing else, I'd recommend freezing corn. It can't be easier. You just shuck the corn, cut it off the cob into a big bowl and then put however much you'd like in bags and freeze. No blanching, nothing. I keep talking about versatility, but corn is even more versatile than most anything else. We eat it half thawed and raw as a snack. I put it in soups, in Mexican dishes, in chili. I make a mean corn chowder with it. It goes in pot pies and on the plate as a veggie. I freeze five dozen ears and we still have about six gallon bags as of this writing on the eve of April. We'll get nearly to corn season with this amount. If you are one of those doubting Thomas types (as I certainly have been known to be), try a dozen or two dozen ears and I'll bet you increase your order the following year. Well, when I said it can't be easier I sort of forgot the taste testing of many ears until we eat the absolute sweetest, most amazing corn of the season. Then I run back to whichever farm or farmer I got that corn from and bargain for a deal on a lot of corn. They are always happy to give a break and I've got the best corn going. You CANNOT buy this stuff in a bag from a store!!!!!
1. Canning Tomatoes. This was the first and most important thing I learned to can 25 years ago (I'm leaning on my cane as I write). Frank's grandmother taught me and his mother tweaked my process by sharing her own. Today I don't do it quite like either of them, but I do the quantity they did, about 150 quarts per year. Why so much? For starters I am a total tomato snob. Admitted. I will not buy a can of tomatoes (let alone an already made sauce!!!) I haven't in more than 20 years and I'm not starting now. But also because we do love Italian food. I almost always have a sauce in the fridge and we eat pizza one night a week, not to mention all the soups and stews and other yummies that need tomatoes. Cans of stewed tomatoes, it has come to light, are lined with scary chemicals. Even organic tomatoes in cans have traces of chemicals you do not want to eat. And once you've canned your own from local, fresh tomatoes, you'll know that the taste of your own compared to that of the can is like comparing apples to rocks. There is no comparison. Many farmers give great deals on canning tomatoes bought by the bushel. The year we had blight and lost our tomato crop, we went to a farm stand in Milford, NH. They had a call list. When they had bushels of canning tomatoes, they'd call. You had 24 hours to call back and reserve and another 3 or 4 days to get up there and pick them up. Their canning tomatoes had hardly a blemish. Well worth the drive. Again, I've already blogged about canning tomatoes, so you can refer to my previous entry for a step by step. It is not hard and well worth the effort.
So there ya go. A top ten of preserving. I mentioned nothing about all the veggies we store without preserving: garlic, onions, potatoes and squash. Even if you don't grow any of these, with the exception of garlic, which is super expensive at farmers markets for some unknown reason, you can stock up on the rest at farm stands in September and they can last the better part of the winter just on the shelf. My recipe today (and I'm a little surprised I didn't write about this early on) is a favorite in my family. My kids call it fancy Mac & Cheese. Hope you love it as much as we do.
Pasta with Squash and Marscapone Sauce
One Large Butternut or Acorn or Delicata Squash (or 2 small to medium)
3 or 4 large garlic cloves
1 Large shallot
Olive Oil for sauteeing
Salt, pepper, nutmeg
1 to 2 cups veggie broth
One tub marscapone
1/4 cup romano cheese, finely grated (more for sprinkling at the table)
1 pound orreciette pasta
Put your pasta water on to boil when you start the process.
Peel and seed the squash and cut it into 1/2 inch cubes. Mince garlic cloves and shallot.
Heat oil in a skillet, then add squash, garlic and shallot, salt, pepper and a pinch of nutmeg. Saute for 2 to 3 minutes, then add just enough broth to cover the bottom of the pan. Cover and continue cooking on medium. Stir every few minutes, adding more broth as needed to keep things going. (You can add the pasta at any time.) After 10 minutes or so, test if the squash is soft with a potato masher. If it is, mash the squash. You aren't trying to get a fine puree, a little texture is fine. Then stir in the marscapone and the romano. Test the seasonings. Add salt or pepper if needed. Cook for another 2 or 3 minutes, then turn off the heat.
Once the pasta is ready, drain and combine with the sauce. Sprinkle extra romano on top to taste. Voila!!
The report from the greenhouse is no less squeal inspiring (yes, I know I should have had a hyphen there, but after the boy took an enormous leap from table to couch where the computer was precariously resting and itself took a leap onto the floor, we're feeling lucky that it is only a cracked screen and a missing hyphen.) Alas, I digress. Where was I? The greenhouse. Awe inspiring. Yes. We've been harvesting spinach for a month. We ate winter carrots for in January and February that were out of this world. Lettuce is just around the corner. And we've had fresh chard all winter after I, last minute before the frost, transferred five or six plants into this warmer climate. Ahhhh!
All this looking ahead and making plans reminded me to reflect on what was successful last year and I wanted to share a few of these with you as you look to your gardens or plan your trips to farmers markets in thoughts of (sorry for bursting your bubble) next winter which may not be so forgiving. And what better way to share? A top ten list. . .
Heidi's 2011 Top Ten Super Easy Ways to Preserve the Harvest for Winter, Eat More Sustainably, More Deliciously and More Cheaply!!
10. Jam. Strawberries, Raspberries, Blueberries, Peaches, Gooseberries, sugar and some pectin and you have a winter's worth of PB&Js, thumbprint cookies, fruit bars, you name it. I used half a jar of raspberry jelly and frozen peaches (see #5) to make killer filling for turnovers a few weeks ago. Commercial jam has more sugar than fruit and is super expensive. You can make your own with much less sugar, especially if you use Universal Pectin instead of Surejell.
9. Zucchini Muffins. That's double chocolate zucchini muffins. The recipe is on this very blog back in 2009. But come on, if you garden and you grow zucchini, there is a point when you are inundated. If you don't grow your own, you can get them from farmers who are themselves inundated for next to nothing from mid July on to the end of the summer. I make double batches of muffins every two or three weeks until the zucchinis are gone (sometimes that's when the snow if falling). There's nothing like a muffin and a cup of tea on a snowy day. I can offer the kids these nutritious goodies all winter long. I also make blueberry crumb cake, apple cake and pumpkin muffins for the freezer stacked next to the zucchini muffins. A little variety.
8. Greens. For us that means chard and spinach, but for you that might mean kale, collards. It all works the same. I chop it and saute it in olive oil and then put it in baggies in the freezer. It comes out tasting just like it did when it went in! We use it in all kinds of soups (white bean and chard is a favorite!!), in enchiladas, quiche or frittata. Well worth the effort.
7. Pickles. Not just cucumbers either. Mixed veggie pickles are our favorite, with cauliflower, carrots, beans, peppers, onions and yes, cukes too. I put it in a sweet tumeric brine and it is incredible. The veggies are crunchy and tangy and sweet. Did I already say there're incredible? We also pickle beets and corn (corn relish with peppers and onions). We eat all of these all winter on salads, as a snack, as a side dish. And pickling is not as hard as you think. Just google some recipes and go to town.
6. Canning Blueberry Pie Filling. What is better than a blueberry pie in July? A "fresh" blueberry pie in February!!! We pick loads of blueberries at the height of the season. Most of them get frozen or eaten fresh. But I make sure to make one pick a pie pick. I make a huge batch of pie filling (where you sweeten it, add lemon zest and thicken it) and after making a fresh pie, I can 4 quarts and 4 pints. That's 4 pies worth for the winter. Just make a crust, fill it with a jar or two of filling and you're all set. I also just used one of the pints for turnovers and they were out of this world. You can do the same thing with peach pie filling or apple pie filling too.
5. Freezing peaches, strawberries. In years past I bought a ton of frozen fruit for the winter. But why? It never tastes that great. Not like local fruit you've picked at the height of the season and frozen. Not like the peaches that drip juices all over your arms and onto the floor. It is worth the mopping for these tasty treats all winter. And SOOOOOOO much cheaper than buying organic fruit from far away, fresh or frozen. And so easy. Strawberries, you just cut off the "greenies" as we call them and pop them in a bag. Peaches (or nectarines) you peal, slice. I put them in a huge bowl and fill the bags once the bowl is full of fruit. It cuts down on the mess of filling the bags when your hands are so juicy and you don't get as much juice in with the fruit. The juice in the bottom of the bowl, we drink or use in a smoothie afterwards. And speaking of smoothies, I make them all winter long with these delicious treats, a little apple juice and my new find, Chia Seeds! If you want to read about Chia Seeds, treat yourself to Christopher McDougall's Born to Run, a fascinating and fun read. I get the peaches by the bushel at the orchard. I tell them I want jam peaches and they sell them for next to nothing. They are usually super ripe (which is why they are in the jam box), but besides that, they are perfect. I cull through the bushels and put the perfect and not as ripe ones in the fridge for eating, then process the rest.
4. Freezing blueberries. You may be asking why I made this a separate category from #5. It is because frozen blueberries are that important. If you can't get to the strawberries and the peaches, okay. But by all means, get to the blueberries. You won't regret it. Not only are they great in smoothies and on yogurt, but you can just eat them. Completely frozen, mostly frozen, a little frozen or thawed. We have fruity dessert after dinner and my kids eat bowls of these things. I do too. When we have game night, I put out a big bowl of blueberries and a big bowl of popcorn. Around here there are lots of high bush farms where the berries are easy to pick and the season is long. We are nowhere near as fanatical as a lot of people I know around here, but we probably pick about 60 pounds for the freezer, the jar and for fresh eating (and that's in addition to the 20 high bush plants we have in our own garden.)
3. Eggplant. I just cannot bring myself to buy eggplant from far away. That used to be a problem because in this house of Italian folk, eggplant parmesan is a bigtime favorite. For the last five years or more, though, I've been freezing either the parmesan completely made or the eggplant that has been breaded and, here's the most awesome part, BAKED! A friend turned me on to baking the eggplant instead of frying it and it is way way way better. You use a fraction of the oil, it is not greasy and when you freeze it, the pieces do not stick together, so that when they are thawed, all the breading gets all over the place. These pieces stay in tact through the whole process. My new favorite is to make rollatini with the frozen eggplant. Same as parmesan only you roll a bit of filling in each piece and then put sauce on top. One layer in the pan. Quicker to make, quicker to bake. Do this. You will not be sorry. And eggplant is plentiful and delicious at farmers markets in August and September.
2. Freezing corn. If you do nothing else, I'd recommend freezing corn. It can't be easier. You just shuck the corn, cut it off the cob into a big bowl and then put however much you'd like in bags and freeze. No blanching, nothing. I keep talking about versatility, but corn is even more versatile than most anything else. We eat it half thawed and raw as a snack. I put it in soups, in Mexican dishes, in chili. I make a mean corn chowder with it. It goes in pot pies and on the plate as a veggie. I freeze five dozen ears and we still have about six gallon bags as of this writing on the eve of April. We'll get nearly to corn season with this amount. If you are one of those doubting Thomas types (as I certainly have been known to be), try a dozen or two dozen ears and I'll bet you increase your order the following year. Well, when I said it can't be easier I sort of forgot the taste testing of many ears until we eat the absolute sweetest, most amazing corn of the season. Then I run back to whichever farm or farmer I got that corn from and bargain for a deal on a lot of corn. They are always happy to give a break and I've got the best corn going. You CANNOT buy this stuff in a bag from a store!!!!!
1. Canning Tomatoes. This was the first and most important thing I learned to can 25 years ago (I'm leaning on my cane as I write). Frank's grandmother taught me and his mother tweaked my process by sharing her own. Today I don't do it quite like either of them, but I do the quantity they did, about 150 quarts per year. Why so much? For starters I am a total tomato snob. Admitted. I will not buy a can of tomatoes (let alone an already made sauce!!!) I haven't in more than 20 years and I'm not starting now. But also because we do love Italian food. I almost always have a sauce in the fridge and we eat pizza one night a week, not to mention all the soups and stews and other yummies that need tomatoes. Cans of stewed tomatoes, it has come to light, are lined with scary chemicals. Even organic tomatoes in cans have traces of chemicals you do not want to eat. And once you've canned your own from local, fresh tomatoes, you'll know that the taste of your own compared to that of the can is like comparing apples to rocks. There is no comparison. Many farmers give great deals on canning tomatoes bought by the bushel. The year we had blight and lost our tomato crop, we went to a farm stand in Milford, NH. They had a call list. When they had bushels of canning tomatoes, they'd call. You had 24 hours to call back and reserve and another 3 or 4 days to get up there and pick them up. Their canning tomatoes had hardly a blemish. Well worth the drive. Again, I've already blogged about canning tomatoes, so you can refer to my previous entry for a step by step. It is not hard and well worth the effort.
So there ya go. A top ten of preserving. I mentioned nothing about all the veggies we store without preserving: garlic, onions, potatoes and squash. Even if you don't grow any of these, with the exception of garlic, which is super expensive at farmers markets for some unknown reason, you can stock up on the rest at farm stands in September and they can last the better part of the winter just on the shelf. My recipe today (and I'm a little surprised I didn't write about this early on) is a favorite in my family. My kids call it fancy Mac & Cheese. Hope you love it as much as we do.
Pasta with Squash and Marscapone Sauce
One Large Butternut or Acorn or Delicata Squash (or 2 small to medium)
3 or 4 large garlic cloves
1 Large shallot
Olive Oil for sauteeing
Salt, pepper, nutmeg
1 to 2 cups veggie broth
One tub marscapone
1/4 cup romano cheese, finely grated (more for sprinkling at the table)
1 pound orreciette pasta
Put your pasta water on to boil when you start the process.
Peel and seed the squash and cut it into 1/2 inch cubes. Mince garlic cloves and shallot.
Heat oil in a skillet, then add squash, garlic and shallot, salt, pepper and a pinch of nutmeg. Saute for 2 to 3 minutes, then add just enough broth to cover the bottom of the pan. Cover and continue cooking on medium. Stir every few minutes, adding more broth as needed to keep things going. (You can add the pasta at any time.) After 10 minutes or so, test if the squash is soft with a potato masher. If it is, mash the squash. You aren't trying to get a fine puree, a little texture is fine. Then stir in the marscapone and the romano. Test the seasonings. Add salt or pepper if needed. Cook for another 2 or 3 minutes, then turn off the heat.
Once the pasta is ready, drain and combine with the sauce. Sprinkle extra romano on top to taste. Voila!!
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Planning for Local - Quinoa with Grilled Vegetables, Tofu and Tempeh
Last week I caught a show on NPR with celebrated chef Dan Barber talking about eating local. He said that for him it has nothing to do with ethics. It is just about taste. Fresh food tastes better. True enough. But there is a bigger picture that cannot have escaped Dan Barber.
Whether he is weighing ethics into his choices or not, a complete disregard for where our food comes from is not sustainable. Eating food grown locally has many benefits. It uses much less energy to get to us if not to produce, it supports local economies AND the food tastes better and lasts longer. It turns out that fresher food is more nutritious as well. And what I liked the most about what he said is the idea that we can still have our bananas and Italian cheese, but we treat these far away items as a luxury and hence eat them in the proportions fitting a luxury, not everyday, all year long Basically, he's just putting it back into perspective. This is how our grandmothers regarded food. Remember the days that kids got an orange in their Christmas stockings. Oranges were a huge treat. Imagine getting back to a point where you could put a piece of fruit in your kids' stockings that they considered a special treat.
Now we just have to translate that into our own sensibility. For my family, we absolutely do not need plums in March flown on a jet plane from Chile (when they taste awful too). We can wait until we have local plums that taste delicious in July and August. If you absolutely cannot live without plums until they are in season (or any other fruit for that matter), consider getting a bushel at the height of freshness and preserving them.
On the other hand, we'll never have bananas grown within 100 miles, or 200 miles of New England. Therefore, when we want to have bananas, I bring my consiousness to the idea that this is a luxury that comes from far away. In our house, it is mangoes and avocados that are our biggest winter luxury food items. I stop buying them in the summer when there are so many other choices. When the salad choices start dwindling in October and the local apples and pears have all but disappeared in November, I put avocados and mangoes back on the grocery list. But we eat them in moderation interspersed with the applesauce I preserved and the berries I froze.
Now, if I could only apply this principle to chocolate . . .
This may seem like a conversation that is better suited to the fall, but to have preserved food available in the winter takes planning, beginning right now. Do you plant a garden? Think about what you may want to preserve and plant extra. You may be surprised by all that you can preserve. (I sauteed chard and beet greens with garlic last year and froze it in little baggies that I added to soups and stews all winter long. Delicious!!) Strawberries will be in season in just a few weeks. Simply cut off the greenies (as they are referred to in our house) and freeze in little ziplock bags. Some people like to par-freeze on cookie sheets and then put them in the baggies. This ensures that they won't stick together in the bag. The key to this is to pick clean berries. I don't pick right after a rain for two reasons: 1) the berries tend to be waterlogged and less tasty; and 2) the berries tend to be dirty. I don't like to wash berries that I'm going to freeze because they develop ice crystals. On a sunny morning, the berries are clean and tasty. Make friends with the farmers at farmers market and ask them about getting boxes of tomatoes, or a deal on several dozen corn. Whatever you can't live without all winter long, there is probably a way to preserve it.
The possibilities are endless. If you don't have a lot of freezer space, you may want to think about making an investment in a big freezer in the basement or barn. This was one of the best investments we ever made. Right now the freezer bounty is pretty sparse, as it should be in May. I'm trying to use those last bags of grated zucchini, corn cut off the cob and grilled veggies.
Which leads me to the very delicious meal I made last night. Quinoa salad with grilled vegetables with tofu and tempeh. We grill lots of veggies in the summer. Zucchini, summer squash, peppers, onions, fennel, eggplant. Whatever we don't finish, I pop into a ziplock and voila, February here we come. Or May as the case was last night. This is also my preferred way to cook tofu and tempeh which I am often asked about. So here it is.
Quinoa Salad with Grilled Vegetables, Tofu and Tempeh
For the Vegetables: Make your favorite marinade (one of mine follows). Summer choices include zucchini, summer squah, peppers, onions, whatever is ripe in the garden. Right now you could make this with asparagus, spring onions and shitake mushrooms, all available at farmers markets. Slice the vegetables and layer them in a long pyrex pan. Pour the marinade on top and cover with plastic. Once in a while, shake it, stir it, whatever you prefer to move the marinade around. Set the oven to 350. 20 minutes before you are ready to grill, put the veggies in the oven (take off the plastic). This gets them going and they don't need to spend as much time on the grill. Then grill until fork tender and each has a good char. Set aside.
For the Tofu and Tempeh:
Slice the tofu into 1/4 inch slices then cut in half to make squares. Slice the tempeh into 1/8 inch slices. Layout in one layer (as much as you can) in a pyrex dish.
Make your marinade: (this is one of my favorites, but is open to lots of interpretation)
1/4 maple syrup
1/2 teaspoon minced ginger
1 teaspoon minced garlic
1 Tablespoon lemon juice
1 Tablespooon lime juice
1/2 cup vinegar (half balsamic, half red wine or any combination that you like)
1 Tablespoon tamari (soy sauce or shoyu are fine)
1 Tablespoon sesame oil
1/4 cup water
Whisk it all together. Pour over the tofu, tempeh reserving 1/2 cup.
Put tofu, tempeh in the oven at 350, uncovered for 30 minutes. Shake the dish a couple times to coat the tops of the tofu and tempeh. Sautee in olive oil on medium high until each piece has a bit of a char on both sides (this only takes a minute or two for the tempeh and a minute or two longer with the tofu). You can also grill them but you may want to leave the tofu larger.
For the Quinoa:
Combine the reserved marinade and 1 1/2 cups water in a pot. Bring to a boil. Add one cup quinoa and reduce to low. Cover and simmer until all the liquid has been absorbed. About 20 minutes. Turn the heat off and let rest for 5-10 minutes.
At this point you can serve the components separately or you can cut up the veggies, the tofu and tempeh and mix into the quinoa and serve as a one bowl "salad" of sorts. I do it both ways, but find that I get more veggies into the kids if I combine the veggies and the quinoa.
Enjoy!
Whether he is weighing ethics into his choices or not, a complete disregard for where our food comes from is not sustainable. Eating food grown locally has many benefits. It uses much less energy to get to us if not to produce, it supports local economies AND the food tastes better and lasts longer. It turns out that fresher food is more nutritious as well. And what I liked the most about what he said is the idea that we can still have our bananas and Italian cheese, but we treat these far away items as a luxury and hence eat them in the proportions fitting a luxury, not everyday, all year long Basically, he's just putting it back into perspective. This is how our grandmothers regarded food. Remember the days that kids got an orange in their Christmas stockings. Oranges were a huge treat. Imagine getting back to a point where you could put a piece of fruit in your kids' stockings that they considered a special treat.
Now we just have to translate that into our own sensibility. For my family, we absolutely do not need plums in March flown on a jet plane from Chile (when they taste awful too). We can wait until we have local plums that taste delicious in July and August. If you absolutely cannot live without plums until they are in season (or any other fruit for that matter), consider getting a bushel at the height of freshness and preserving them.
On the other hand, we'll never have bananas grown within 100 miles, or 200 miles of New England. Therefore, when we want to have bananas, I bring my consiousness to the idea that this is a luxury that comes from far away. In our house, it is mangoes and avocados that are our biggest winter luxury food items. I stop buying them in the summer when there are so many other choices. When the salad choices start dwindling in October and the local apples and pears have all but disappeared in November, I put avocados and mangoes back on the grocery list. But we eat them in moderation interspersed with the applesauce I preserved and the berries I froze.
Now, if I could only apply this principle to chocolate . . .
This may seem like a conversation that is better suited to the fall, but to have preserved food available in the winter takes planning, beginning right now. Do you plant a garden? Think about what you may want to preserve and plant extra. You may be surprised by all that you can preserve. (I sauteed chard and beet greens with garlic last year and froze it in little baggies that I added to soups and stews all winter long. Delicious!!) Strawberries will be in season in just a few weeks. Simply cut off the greenies (as they are referred to in our house) and freeze in little ziplock bags. Some people like to par-freeze on cookie sheets and then put them in the baggies. This ensures that they won't stick together in the bag. The key to this is to pick clean berries. I don't pick right after a rain for two reasons: 1) the berries tend to be waterlogged and less tasty; and 2) the berries tend to be dirty. I don't like to wash berries that I'm going to freeze because they develop ice crystals. On a sunny morning, the berries are clean and tasty. Make friends with the farmers at farmers market and ask them about getting boxes of tomatoes, or a deal on several dozen corn. Whatever you can't live without all winter long, there is probably a way to preserve it.
The possibilities are endless. If you don't have a lot of freezer space, you may want to think about making an investment in a big freezer in the basement or barn. This was one of the best investments we ever made. Right now the freezer bounty is pretty sparse, as it should be in May. I'm trying to use those last bags of grated zucchini, corn cut off the cob and grilled veggies.
Which leads me to the very delicious meal I made last night. Quinoa salad with grilled vegetables with tofu and tempeh. We grill lots of veggies in the summer. Zucchini, summer squash, peppers, onions, fennel, eggplant. Whatever we don't finish, I pop into a ziplock and voila, February here we come. Or May as the case was last night. This is also my preferred way to cook tofu and tempeh which I am often asked about. So here it is.
Quinoa Salad with Grilled Vegetables, Tofu and Tempeh
For the Vegetables: Make your favorite marinade (one of mine follows). Summer choices include zucchini, summer squah, peppers, onions, whatever is ripe in the garden. Right now you could make this with asparagus, spring onions and shitake mushrooms, all available at farmers markets. Slice the vegetables and layer them in a long pyrex pan. Pour the marinade on top and cover with plastic. Once in a while, shake it, stir it, whatever you prefer to move the marinade around. Set the oven to 350. 20 minutes before you are ready to grill, put the veggies in the oven (take off the plastic). This gets them going and they don't need to spend as much time on the grill. Then grill until fork tender and each has a good char. Set aside.
For the Tofu and Tempeh:
Slice the tofu into 1/4 inch slices then cut in half to make squares. Slice the tempeh into 1/8 inch slices. Layout in one layer (as much as you can) in a pyrex dish.
Make your marinade: (this is one of my favorites, but is open to lots of interpretation)
1/4 maple syrup
1/2 teaspoon minced ginger
1 teaspoon minced garlic
1 Tablespoon lemon juice
1 Tablespooon lime juice
1/2 cup vinegar (half balsamic, half red wine or any combination that you like)
1 Tablespoon tamari (soy sauce or shoyu are fine)
1 Tablespoon sesame oil
1/4 cup water
Whisk it all together. Pour over the tofu, tempeh reserving 1/2 cup.
Put tofu, tempeh in the oven at 350, uncovered for 30 minutes. Shake the dish a couple times to coat the tops of the tofu and tempeh. Sautee in olive oil on medium high until each piece has a bit of a char on both sides (this only takes a minute or two for the tempeh and a minute or two longer with the tofu). You can also grill them but you may want to leave the tofu larger.
For the Quinoa:
Combine the reserved marinade and 1 1/2 cups water in a pot. Bring to a boil. Add one cup quinoa and reduce to low. Cover and simmer until all the liquid has been absorbed. About 20 minutes. Turn the heat off and let rest for 5-10 minutes.
At this point you can serve the components separately or you can cut up the veggies, the tofu and tempeh and mix into the quinoa and serve as a one bowl "salad" of sorts. I do it both ways, but find that I get more veggies into the kids if I combine the veggies and the quinoa.
Enjoy!
Best Laid Plans and Stuffed Artichokes
This is the tale of best-laid plans. Once upon a time I had no kids and a huge vegetable garden. Then I had babies and thought about simplifying my life. I decided to plant the back half of the garden with perennials and grow less food. These were the days of stealing 10 minutes here, twenty minutes there; parking babies in the shade or wearing them on my back while I shoveled and giving them shovels and pails and setting them the task of finding worms, many worms. I was proud of the accomplishment of growing anything at that point, but it wasn't easy to negotiate what was needed to tend to the garden properly. Weeds were rampant, lettuce was bolting and tomatoes were flopping before I could get out there tie them up. It made perfect sense. Much of the back half was fallow anyway because it had been impossible to keep up, so this would solve all problems.
I started with about a fourth of the space the first year of the plan, thinking I would mosey along the next few years until the food part was manageable. I put in a lovely little square with a sand cherry and giant patch of yarrow. A beautiful yellow rose commemorating our Yarrow Rose's weaning and loads of plants gathered from my garden club's annual plant swap. Lovely.
Then everything changed.
Before the snow melted on year two, I had read Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma and Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle and would never eat the same way again. Or garden the same way again either. If you haven't read either of these missives, I highly recommend them. For me they were eye-openers and inspiration.
Now that square of flowers stands as an island sandwiched between the Bay of Tomatoes and the Strait of Peas and Zucchini with a shoreline of spinach and storage onions. I'm not fretting because flowers bring bees and butterflies and other pollinators (and are pretty), although I do have fantasies about digging it all up and making room for more food. I could have a rockin' corn crop over there. Or edamame. I love edamame. Or move the artichokes out of the greenhouse and into the field like my gardening hero Elliot Coleman up in Maine. He does that.
I am hugely fortunate that after having such an epiphany about the links between climate change and the food industry that I live in such a place and have the life where I can actually take action. And that I can do it by combining two things that I love - activism and gardening? So super cool.
I walk around blissed out these days of spring. My hands are in the dirt. When I'm seeking inspiration at dinnertime, I can take a walk out the door. Last night I combined our own carrots, spinach, leeks and asparagus with locally grown shitake mushrooms and some Vermont-made creme fraiche stirred into risotto. It was wonderful. But that's not the subject today. It's spring and in our house, that mean stuffed artichokes once a week until they aren't feeling totally special anymore, at which time, we bid them farewell until next spring. Except this year we're growing artichokes in the greenhouse so we should get an encore season in August or September, we hope. For everyone else who doesn't get the encore, hurry and make this fantastic recipe that I've adapted from Grandma Gerarda, Frank's paternal grandmother who let us garden the other half of her yard when we lived in the city. She died in 1994, but not before teaching me an awful lot about Italian cooking, gardening and sharing what you know!
Stuffed Artichokes
For the Artichokes:
Choose 4 Large Artichokes that are as free of dark spots as you can. Cut off stems, with a large knife or kitchen scissor, trim the tops of the leaves so you don't have the pointy parts and it is easier to stuff. Parboil in a big pot of water until you can pull a leaf out without great resistance, about 20-30 minutes. Remove from water and place in bowl to cool. Reserve water.
For the Filling:
4 large cloves garlic
1 large onion
6-8 button or crimini mushrooms
3/4 cup breadcrumbs
1/4 cup pecorino romano cheese, grated fine (or parmesan if you prefer)
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
Place garlic and onion in food processor and pulse 3-4 times, then add mushrooms and process until the veggies are minced. Heat oil in a frying pan and add minced veggies. Season with salt and pepper (not too much salt because the cheese is salty.) Saute on low until the mixture is very aromatic and soft. Turn the heat off and let cool. Once cool, preheat the oven to 350. Add breadcrumbs and cheese and mix thoroughly. One at a time, take each artichoke and put some filling into the spaces between the leaves. I generally stuff the bottom five or six rows, gently pulling each leaf away, dropping a generous pinch of filling in. Press the filling down into the leaves. Continue this process until you have used all your filling and the artichokes have become very fat. Place (squeeze) them in a pie plate or other pyrex baking dish. Ladle a couple scoops of the reserved water into the bottom of the baking dish. Cover with foil and bake for 30 minutes. Uncover and bake for 10 more minutes. Remove from the oven and let cool for a few minutes before serving.
You can melt some butter for dipping. And voila. Put a giant bowl for the discarded leaves in the middle of the table. If you've never eaten artichokes before, simply eat the filling off the leaf, the turn it upside down and scrape the fleshy part off with your teeth. For the leaves that don't have the filling, just the scraping will do. When you get down to the choke, take a knife and scrape away the hairs to reveal the best part: the heart. Dip that in butter and enjoy!!
I started with about a fourth of the space the first year of the plan, thinking I would mosey along the next few years until the food part was manageable. I put in a lovely little square with a sand cherry and giant patch of yarrow. A beautiful yellow rose commemorating our Yarrow Rose's weaning and loads of plants gathered from my garden club's annual plant swap. Lovely.
Then everything changed.
Before the snow melted on year two, I had read Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma and Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle and would never eat the same way again. Or garden the same way again either. If you haven't read either of these missives, I highly recommend them. For me they were eye-openers and inspiration.
Now that square of flowers stands as an island sandwiched between the Bay of Tomatoes and the Strait of Peas and Zucchini with a shoreline of spinach and storage onions. I'm not fretting because flowers bring bees and butterflies and other pollinators (and are pretty), although I do have fantasies about digging it all up and making room for more food. I could have a rockin' corn crop over there. Or edamame. I love edamame. Or move the artichokes out of the greenhouse and into the field like my gardening hero Elliot Coleman up in Maine. He does that.
I am hugely fortunate that after having such an epiphany about the links between climate change and the food industry that I live in such a place and have the life where I can actually take action. And that I can do it by combining two things that I love - activism and gardening? So super cool.
I walk around blissed out these days of spring. My hands are in the dirt. When I'm seeking inspiration at dinnertime, I can take a walk out the door. Last night I combined our own carrots, spinach, leeks and asparagus with locally grown shitake mushrooms and some Vermont-made creme fraiche stirred into risotto. It was wonderful. But that's not the subject today. It's spring and in our house, that mean stuffed artichokes once a week until they aren't feeling totally special anymore, at which time, we bid them farewell until next spring. Except this year we're growing artichokes in the greenhouse so we should get an encore season in August or September, we hope. For everyone else who doesn't get the encore, hurry and make this fantastic recipe that I've adapted from Grandma Gerarda, Frank's paternal grandmother who let us garden the other half of her yard when we lived in the city. She died in 1994, but not before teaching me an awful lot about Italian cooking, gardening and sharing what you know!
Stuffed Artichokes
For the Artichokes:
Choose 4 Large Artichokes that are as free of dark spots as you can. Cut off stems, with a large knife or kitchen scissor, trim the tops of the leaves so you don't have the pointy parts and it is easier to stuff. Parboil in a big pot of water until you can pull a leaf out without great resistance, about 20-30 minutes. Remove from water and place in bowl to cool. Reserve water.
For the Filling:
4 large cloves garlic
1 large onion
6-8 button or crimini mushrooms
3/4 cup breadcrumbs
1/4 cup pecorino romano cheese, grated fine (or parmesan if you prefer)
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
Place garlic and onion in food processor and pulse 3-4 times, then add mushrooms and process until the veggies are minced. Heat oil in a frying pan and add minced veggies. Season with salt and pepper (not too much salt because the cheese is salty.) Saute on low until the mixture is very aromatic and soft. Turn the heat off and let cool. Once cool, preheat the oven to 350. Add breadcrumbs and cheese and mix thoroughly. One at a time, take each artichoke and put some filling into the spaces between the leaves. I generally stuff the bottom five or six rows, gently pulling each leaf away, dropping a generous pinch of filling in. Press the filling down into the leaves. Continue this process until you have used all your filling and the artichokes have become very fat. Place (squeeze) them in a pie plate or other pyrex baking dish. Ladle a couple scoops of the reserved water into the bottom of the baking dish. Cover with foil and bake for 30 minutes. Uncover and bake for 10 more minutes. Remove from the oven and let cool for a few minutes before serving.
You can melt some butter for dipping. And voila. Put a giant bowl for the discarded leaves in the middle of the table. If you've never eaten artichokes before, simply eat the filling off the leaf, the turn it upside down and scrape the fleshy part off with your teeth. For the leaves that don't have the filling, just the scraping will do. When you get down to the choke, take a knife and scrape away the hairs to reveal the best part: the heart. Dip that in butter and enjoy!!
Sunday, April 24, 2011
I'm Back
I can't tell you how many times I've composed a post in my head and not made it to the computer because I felt like I needed to post some explanation of my absence before posting anything else. That idea posed enough of a roadblock that another insightful thought, delicious recipe, or long-winded rant fell by the wayside. And this has been going on for better than a year. Ugh, wasted time. Well, enough of that.
A year and better later and all I can say by way of explanation is that life happens. My son's lack of nap coupled with homeschooling my daughter after said son was in bed at night and a general lack of time, energy and organization and there ya go.
But I've missed posting and sharing our adventures in growing, preserving and eating. And for the same reason that I started this silly thing - that I've been asked a multitude of times for recipes and owe loads of people one thing or another - I'm in the same position again. Today it is my eggplant rollatini that I brought to Easter today at my sister-in-law's and brother-in-law's house. Too many steps for anyone to remember it all verbally and since I said I'd email, what a better excuse to get going again.
Before launching in, a few words about what's been happening around here. Since I didn't post last year, it is worth mentioning that our property, our gardening and the resultant preserving were WAY different last year after we built a 20' x 14' x 9' high stand-alone greenhouse. That would be the proverbial WE. Frank actually built it and did a superlative job. I supervised and did a lot of jumping for joy. I can remember the first day we came to look at the property in 1991. As we were fantasizing about what we could do with such a big and lovely piece of property, building a greenhouse was right up there on the list. It was in our 20th year that it became a reality, certainly testing the adage about patient waiters, or good things come to those who wait or whatever the sayings are.
So I couldn't be talking today about eggplant without the greenhouse. I doggedly tried growing this heat-seeker for the last 20 years with a modicum (and not much more) of success, but in the greenhouse it was like a different species. The plants were five feet tall and two feet in diameter with up to 10 fruits on a plant. And it was the same story for peppers and tomatoes. Being the scientific types that we are (NOT), we did a control study to make sure it wasn't just a great year for these crops and tried growing them outside. The tomatoes did great outside last year, but the eggplants and peppers produced almost nothing and certainly not prolific fire engine red peppers in early July.
The greenhouse wasn't finished until June 1 last year so what we didn't get was the advantage of a warm growing environment inside before it was available outside. We did extend our season last fall (picking the last peppers and tomatoes in December with the aid of a propane heater), but that's a whole other post. Let me focus on what is happening right now.
As of yesterday, April 23, we have 32 tomatoes, 4 cucumbers, 2 peppers and 11 artichokes planted in the greenhouse. That's just about a month before we'd be able to plant them in the garden. And those plants are all huge. Half again as big as anything you could buy in a nursery in May. I'll keep you posted on yields. The rest of the greenhouse has early spinach, chard and lettuce that I'll be transplanting outside as it gets too hot inside the greenhouse for these cool weather crops. The aisles are taken up by tray after tray after tray of potted plants we've grown from seed. Broccoli and its cousins, pumpkins and their cousins, tomatoes and their cousins, onions and their cousins. Family after family of veggies all just waiting for their turn to go into the garden.
For now, lets get back to the eggplants. So I started 24 plants last year thinking that we'd get 75% germination and then 75% of the plants would make it (any math whizzes out there to figure that out?) Okay, I'll do it. That would mean about 14 plants would be viable. Well, that's not exactly what happened. All 24 plants came through and we found room to plant them all. So I had about 20 of them in the greenhouse. You can imagine the bounty. We gave a good many to friends. But mostly, I got cooking. Mostly what I did was bread and BAKE slices (thanks to my friend Catherine for casually mentioning how much tastier her baked eggplant was early on) and then freeze them in giant ziplocks. The last two of these bags I used today, some seven months after picking and preserving them fresh. Let me tell you, they were still mighty tasty. The baked eggplant is so much lighter than fried. And you use a FRACTION of the oil. Not a bad thing for the pocketbook, the hips or the digestive system.
Here's the skinny:
For the Eggplant:
Eggplant
Eggs
Breadcrumbs
Olive Oil
I have not put amounts because it will be different depending on how much eggplant you are working with. (Just crack a couple of eggs and put a cup of breadcrumbs and keep adding as you need.) Preheat the oven to 350. Slice the eggplants long-ways, about 1/8 inch thick. I do not salt them or any of that nonsense. Wisk the eggs in a bowl. Put the breadcrumbs on a plate. Using a pastry brush, brush a light coating of olive oil on jelly roll pans (you know the cookie sheets with the lip). Now take your left hand and dip the eggplant into the eggs. Drop it onto the breadcrumbs, still using your left hand (but don't touch the crumbs). Now with your right hand, dredge the eggplant in the crumbs until covered. Then with your right hand, place it on pan. Repeat until all your eggplant has been breaded or all your pans are full whichever comes first. Bake for approximately 10 minutes per side (less or more to your taste and oven), adding a little more olive oil as needed either when you turn them over or with the next batch. Take them out and pile them on a plate. You don't need to drain them on paper towels since there is little oil involved. At this point, you can freeze them or go on to the rollatini phase.
For the Rollatini:
Marinara sauce (see my previous post on tomato sauce if making your own)
Fresh ricotta
mozzarella (fresh or packaged) grated
romano (or parmesan) cheese grated fine
pinch of nutmeg
sauteed chopped spinach (optional)
(For one small tub of ricotta, I use 1/2 cup grated mozzarella and 1/4 grated romano.) Combine all cheeses, nutmeg and spinach if you're using in a bowl. Mix well. In a large pyrex baking dish, spoon marinara sauce to cover the bottom of the dish. Layout several pieces of eggplant in a row on the counter. Spoon approximately 1Tbs of filling onto the wide end of the eggplant pieces. Then roll them and place them opening side down in dish. Repeat until all the eggplant has been filled. Spoon sauce over the top so the rollatini are covered. Cover with foil. Bake at 350 for 1 hour.
A year and better later and all I can say by way of explanation is that life happens. My son's lack of nap coupled with homeschooling my daughter after said son was in bed at night and a general lack of time, energy and organization and there ya go.
But I've missed posting and sharing our adventures in growing, preserving and eating. And for the same reason that I started this silly thing - that I've been asked a multitude of times for recipes and owe loads of people one thing or another - I'm in the same position again. Today it is my eggplant rollatini that I brought to Easter today at my sister-in-law's and brother-in-law's house. Too many steps for anyone to remember it all verbally and since I said I'd email, what a better excuse to get going again.
Before launching in, a few words about what's been happening around here. Since I didn't post last year, it is worth mentioning that our property, our gardening and the resultant preserving were WAY different last year after we built a 20' x 14' x 9' high stand-alone greenhouse. That would be the proverbial WE. Frank actually built it and did a superlative job. I supervised and did a lot of jumping for joy. I can remember the first day we came to look at the property in 1991. As we were fantasizing about what we could do with such a big and lovely piece of property, building a greenhouse was right up there on the list. It was in our 20th year that it became a reality, certainly testing the adage about patient waiters, or good things come to those who wait or whatever the sayings are.
So I couldn't be talking today about eggplant without the greenhouse. I doggedly tried growing this heat-seeker for the last 20 years with a modicum (and not much more) of success, but in the greenhouse it was like a different species. The plants were five feet tall and two feet in diameter with up to 10 fruits on a plant. And it was the same story for peppers and tomatoes. Being the scientific types that we are (NOT), we did a control study to make sure it wasn't just a great year for these crops and tried growing them outside. The tomatoes did great outside last year, but the eggplants and peppers produced almost nothing and certainly not prolific fire engine red peppers in early July.
The greenhouse wasn't finished until June 1 last year so what we didn't get was the advantage of a warm growing environment inside before it was available outside. We did extend our season last fall (picking the last peppers and tomatoes in December with the aid of a propane heater), but that's a whole other post. Let me focus on what is happening right now.
As of yesterday, April 23, we have 32 tomatoes, 4 cucumbers, 2 peppers and 11 artichokes planted in the greenhouse. That's just about a month before we'd be able to plant them in the garden. And those plants are all huge. Half again as big as anything you could buy in a nursery in May. I'll keep you posted on yields. The rest of the greenhouse has early spinach, chard and lettuce that I'll be transplanting outside as it gets too hot inside the greenhouse for these cool weather crops. The aisles are taken up by tray after tray after tray of potted plants we've grown from seed. Broccoli and its cousins, pumpkins and their cousins, tomatoes and their cousins, onions and their cousins. Family after family of veggies all just waiting for their turn to go into the garden.
For now, lets get back to the eggplants. So I started 24 plants last year thinking that we'd get 75% germination and then 75% of the plants would make it (any math whizzes out there to figure that out?) Okay, I'll do it. That would mean about 14 plants would be viable. Well, that's not exactly what happened. All 24 plants came through and we found room to plant them all. So I had about 20 of them in the greenhouse. You can imagine the bounty. We gave a good many to friends. But mostly, I got cooking. Mostly what I did was bread and BAKE slices (thanks to my friend Catherine for casually mentioning how much tastier her baked eggplant was early on) and then freeze them in giant ziplocks. The last two of these bags I used today, some seven months after picking and preserving them fresh. Let me tell you, they were still mighty tasty. The baked eggplant is so much lighter than fried. And you use a FRACTION of the oil. Not a bad thing for the pocketbook, the hips or the digestive system.
Here's the skinny:
For the Eggplant:
Eggplant
Eggs
Breadcrumbs
Olive Oil
I have not put amounts because it will be different depending on how much eggplant you are working with. (Just crack a couple of eggs and put a cup of breadcrumbs and keep adding as you need.) Preheat the oven to 350. Slice the eggplants long-ways, about 1/8 inch thick. I do not salt them or any of that nonsense. Wisk the eggs in a bowl. Put the breadcrumbs on a plate. Using a pastry brush, brush a light coating of olive oil on jelly roll pans (you know the cookie sheets with the lip). Now take your left hand and dip the eggplant into the eggs. Drop it onto the breadcrumbs, still using your left hand (but don't touch the crumbs). Now with your right hand, dredge the eggplant in the crumbs until covered. Then with your right hand, place it on pan. Repeat until all your eggplant has been breaded or all your pans are full whichever comes first. Bake for approximately 10 minutes per side (less or more to your taste and oven), adding a little more olive oil as needed either when you turn them over or with the next batch. Take them out and pile them on a plate. You don't need to drain them on paper towels since there is little oil involved. At this point, you can freeze them or go on to the rollatini phase.
For the Rollatini:
Marinara sauce (see my previous post on tomato sauce if making your own)
Fresh ricotta
mozzarella (fresh or packaged) grated
romano (or parmesan) cheese grated fine
pinch of nutmeg
sauteed chopped spinach (optional)
(For one small tub of ricotta, I use 1/2 cup grated mozzarella and 1/4 grated romano.) Combine all cheeses, nutmeg and spinach if you're using in a bowl. Mix well. In a large pyrex baking dish, spoon marinara sauce to cover the bottom of the dish. Layout several pieces of eggplant in a row on the counter. Spoon approximately 1Tbs of filling onto the wide end of the eggplant pieces. Then roll them and place them opening side down in dish. Repeat until all the eggplant has been filled. Spoon sauce over the top so the rollatini are covered. Cover with foil. Bake at 350 for 1 hour.
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