Posts Tagged ‘eating local’

Local Wheat Berry Salad

Posted on July 27th, 2011 by Tonia No Comments

Let me count the ways in which I love Maple Hill Farm. It’s right down the road from us, which makes shopping pretty easy. They do pigs, wheat/flour, veggies, soap, yarn, and more. They’re super friendly, happy to answer questions and spend time visiting whenever we drop in.

I brought home some of their wheat berries the other day and made this recipe with them. It was so fresh, summery, and filling {I wish I had doubled the batch because just the two of us gobbled it all down immediately.}

Ingredients:

1 cup uncooked farro or wheat berries
1 cup shelled green peas (about 3/4 pound unshelled)
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 cup cubed seeded watermelon
1 cup coarsely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
1/3 cup (1 1/2 ounces) shaved fresh pecorino Romano cheese

Steps:

1. Place wheat berries in a large saucepan, and cover with water to 2 inches above berries. Bring to a boil. Cover, reduce heat, and simmer for 23 minutes or until desired degree of doneness.
2. Add green peas to pan with wheat berries, and cook for 2 minutes or until crisp-tender. Drain and rinse berry mixture with cold water; drain.
3. Combine berry mixture, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon black pepper in a large bowl. Add the watermelon cubes and 1 cup chopped parsley, and toss gently to combine. Top with pecorino cheese.

Enjoy!

Adventures in Jam Making, part two

Posted on July 15th, 2011 by Tonia 7 Comments

The ingredients and steps for making jam are deceptively simple: Take fruit, lemon juice, and sugar. Mix them together and cook them until they thicken. Put the mixture in sterilized jars. Boil the jars for 10 minutes to process away any bacteria that might be lingering and to seal the jars. Done!

So easy, right? Morale was high as we embarked on our mission. We gathered the supplies, we washed and hulled all the berries, we whistled while we worked.

We boiled mason jars for five minutes in a large stock pot, and we poured boiling water over the lids in a large bowl. We mashed berries and mixed in the sugar and squeezed in lemon juice. We brought it to a boil and sighed with contentment as the whole house filled with the smell of warm strawberries.

And then the thermometer told us that the mixture had reached the magic number of 220 degrees Fahrenheit, meaning that jam was happening!

Chaos ensued. We started arguing over how to best get the jam into the jars {funny, we hadn’t thought this through ahead of time} and realized that the only funnel we had on hand was a plastic one that was not sterilized and might melt if we tried to sterilize it in the boiling water. Oops.

Meanwhile, the sterilized jars were out of their boil-bath and cooling down too quickly. And then there was the question of how to get all the hot jam-filled jars into the processing bath {there was only room for four at a time} before they all cooled down too much.

It was kind of the opposite of the lovely and romantic morning we had. My brain was exploding and my nerves a little wrecked after a very long berry-devoted day, but it all worked out and we’re now the proud owners of way too much strawberry and strawberry-rhubarb jam.

…Which we promptly ate atop banana pancakes this morning.

Along side thick-cut bacon from our friend Blaise’s farm down the road.

Ok, that was definitely worth the work.

We used this recipe for the strawberry jam, but we cut the sugar in half and then eventually cut it down to just one cup for the last batch because we thought that it was just way too sweet with all four cups of sugar in there.

For the strawberry-rhubarb jam, we used this recipe as a guideline but again we cut the sugar by half and were very happy with the taste/sweetness.

We love the texture of both jams…plenty of chunks of fruit but smooth and very spreadable, too.

Now that we’ve been initiated into the canning world, we’re excited to try making blueberry, cherry, and pear jam as well. I want to figure out how to make “preserves” or “compotes” too…I’d love to be able to heat up a jar and pour it over ice-cream in the middle of winter when you’re really craving fruit.

Adventures in Jam Making, part one

Posted on July 14th, 2011 by Tonia 8 Comments

Yesterday we got up bright and early and headed to Bayfield, a beautiful little town known for its plethora of apple and cherry orchards and berry patches.

Bayfield is situated just so on the peninsula that it’s basically incubated by Lake Superior and the growing season is a whole zone better than it is at our house, just 12 miles to the south. Hence, fruit-growers have flocked to the area and set up shop on every south-facing slope that could be found.

The whole town is full of picturesque orchards {most with ancient, twisted, gnarly rootstocks that have been re-grafted onto many times in their life.} It’s a pretty magical place. We’re lucky to live so near to it, yet far enough away that we’re not quite so bombarded with tourists all summer long.

Anyway, our mission in Bayfield was to pick strawberries, and we chose Northwind Farm because they grow organically and because the farm and homestead is 100% powered by the wind and sun. Even the car has a solar-panel.

The owner, Tom, showed us to a patch ripe for picking and set us loose.

It was pretty glorious out there in the early morning sun, the smell of strawberry hanging in the air, the chickens clucking away behind us, and the crickets singing.

In fact, it was down-right romantic! I love working quietly away at the same task with Mike. We’re both in our element when our hands and minds are busy yet we’re relaxed…not in a rush to be somewhere else or do something else; not thinking about the To Do list at home. Something about the smell of strawberries is romantic, too.

We picked almost 20 lbs. and then moseyed home to begin the jam making {oh, if only we had known at that point how incredibly unprepared we were for how much work jam making is!}

To be continued…

When Life Gives you Eggs, Make Crépes.

Posted on June 28th, 2011 by Tonia 18 Comments

When there are chickens around, eggs happen. And when eggs are happening, eating them needs to happen regularly, too, otherwise they stockpile in the ‘fridge. And then before you know it, you have more eggs than you know what to do with. This happened today.

Lucky for us the French invented crépes! Thin, slightly sweet, egg-loaded pancakes that can be topped with unending combination of delicious things: bananas and Greek yogurt, strawberries and whipped cream, peaches and cinnamon, maple syrup and peanut butter…

But we’re trying to use as many eggs as possible today, so we’re topping our crépes with slices of prosciutto, eggs, parmesan cheese, a sprinkle of sea salt, crushed pepper, and fresh thyme.

Ingredients

For the crépes:

1 cup flour
1 tablespoon sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups milk
4 large eggs
3 tablespoons melted butter

For the topping:

9 thin slices ham/prosciutto
9 eggs
Chopped fresh parsley or thyme to taste
Sea salt & pepper to taste
Freshly grated parmesan cheese to tatse

Steps

Combine flour, sugar, salt, milk, four eggs and the melted butter in a blender and blend on high for 30 seconds. Let rest for 15 minutes.

Heat a 12 inch non-stick skillet over medium heat and lightly coat with butter. Add 1/3 cup batter and swirl to completely cover skillet. Cook until underside of crepe is very lightly starting to brown, about 2 minutes.

Loosen edge of crepe with spatula and then either using large spatula or your fingers, lift it up and flip it over.

Cook another minute and then slide out of skillet onto wax paper. Repeat until batter is gone {it should make about nine}.


Preheat oven to 350. Place crepes on a rimmed baking sheet {3-4 per sheet}. Place prosciutto slice in center of crepe and carefully crack egg onto prosciutto.

Fold edges of crepe toward center, using the egg white as the glue to hold the edges down.

Season with salt and pepper and bake until egg white is set, about 10-12 minutes. Sprinkle with herbs and cheese and serve.

This post is dedicated to my friend Caitlyn, who went through a crépe faze when we were about ten years old. I would show up at her house and she would be in her usual position in front of the stove, spatula in hand, huge bowl of batter by her side. She’s the only ten-year-old I’ve ever known that asked for a crépe pan for Christmas.

“Want one?” She’d ask, and she knew the answer, so there would be a steaming, golden, buttery crépe sliding onto a plate in front of me before I could say anything.

We ate them with massive amounts of whipped cream.