I'm a bit, well, smitten with Smitten Kitchen. Everything looks so darned delicious, and while some sites inspire me to keep a recipe for the future, Smitten inspires impatience that leads to me trying out the recipes as soon as humanly possible, especially the rainbow-hued panzanella.
As Deb says: "there's no better way to take in late-summer produce than with a panzanella." Now that I've actually had it, I can agree. While I've overdosed salads with croutons before, I have never explored the world of bread salads until last night. This is, by far, the perfect way to say goodbye to summer. While fresh vegetables can make great cooked dishes, only a nice salad or raw mixture like this can adequately offer the rich flavors of summer -- the sweet peppers balance the onion, while the delicious bite of the champagne vinegar is softened by the large chunks of bread.
It can easily be adapted -- I just loosely followed the ingredients list for the bowl I mixed up last night (seen above). However, I would strongly suggest not messing with the vinaigrette and trying it as-is. The mixture is excellent, and must, must, must have champagne vinegar.
Goodbye summer -- today is the first day of fall. The warm air is is being pushed out by harsher, cold winds, and fresh produce is starting to become a little harder to come by.
As wonderful as it would be to freeze our veggies and fruit in time and eat them at our leisure, the best we have is freezing and canning. Freezing isn't the most ideal option, so that leaves canning -- the way to store and preserve vegetables and fruits for those long, dark, and cold winter nights. The above video is part of a series that details the basics of home canning -- all you need to rush out to your local produce stand or farm and buy up the last tasty bushels of summer to preserve for the months ahead.
It's a really simple process, and once you do it, you'll wonder why you haven't before.
For those who live in areas where summer, fall, winter, and spring are more than just seasonal tags that tell you what month it is, September is both an exciting and sad time. As the warmth slowly fades away, it's time to revel in squash and all those warm, tasty dishes. But it also means an end to the overabundance of freshness, the time where each week can be an adventure into new produce. The vegetables in the grocery store aren't the same wonderful rainbow of colors. It becomes harder to find the same depth of flavor.
Me, I look at the heirloom caprese salad above, which I ate only a few weeks ago, and wish that the produce season could be just a little longer. I'll miss buying a large basket of tomatoes for only $6, and saturating myself in salsa, sauce, and fresh slices of tomato. I'll miss the large, affordable bunches of basil that work better than any air freshener.
I'm on vacation this week, traveling around Southern California visiting family (with a stop in Las Vegas over the weekend). When I was getting ready to leave, in addition to packing and cleaning the apartment a bit so that I didn't return to a total mess, I also had to make sure to use up any food that wasn't going to keep while we were away. I did a final, abbreviated grocery shop last Sunday and then set out to create meals that used only what I had (actually, not much of a challenge given the stocked state of my kitchen).
I made scrambled eggs and toast one night and another did hamburgers with a random veggie medley along side. I also roasted a huge sheet pan of tomatoes, as I had been given a bounty by a friend's mother. I used half of them in a baked pasta dish and then poured what remained into a quart-sized container for the freezer.
This time of year, with the tomatoes as gorgeous and abundant as they are, it's a wonderful thing to tuck some away for future use. The food blogs have been abuzz lately with news of people canning and preserving those tomatoes. If the idea of jars, large pots and hot water baths give you the shakes, just remember your freezer. My roasted tomatoes were simply tomato wedges spread out on a rimmed cookie sheet, drizzle with olive oil and seasoned with a bit of salt and pepper. Baked for 45 minutes at 375 degrees, they were wonderful with the pasta and sauteed veggies I tossed them with, and they'll be even better when I pull the rest of the freezer in a few months.
A few weeks ago, we learned about all the amazing varieties of tomato. Now, milk the last lovely harvests of tomatoes for all they're worth with these juicy recipes from the food blogs:
Grocery store bins are still overflowing with fresh sweet corn, its silky hair littering the tile floors like pine needles, so you might as well get as much as you can, while you can. The New York Times has a good story on stretching late summer corn, with an especially awesome-looking recipe for corn, basil and tomato chowder. This thick soup packs in the trifecta of summer flavors, made hearty with potatoes and a dollop of crème fraîche. And, best of all, soup's great for freezing, which means you can thaw a container-full any time during the winter for a burst of early September's golden goodness.
Red & White Clover are both edible raw in salads, as cooked greens, and more. The young and tender shoots and greens can be tasty, but older ones can get tough. Just stick to ones that look fresh and haven't gone grass-like and you should be fine. The flower heads are nutritious and full of protein but they should either be soaked in salty water for a few hours or briefly boiled or cooked before eating; so that they are easier to digest. Eating them raw is usually not as good an experience. I like them stir fried or sauteed until well done, or lightly battered and made into fritters or tempura. I find that the saltiness of the tempura dipping sauce works well with them. If the blossoms seem past their prime, or even going to seed, all the better. Because then you can dry them and grind them into a protein rich and nutritious flour. Just don't try to cook and eat them unless they are soft and fresh, or they will be quite unappetizing.
I was personally introduced to them when I was studying wilderness survival, and one day we had to prepare and eat them every way we could. It wasn't a high point of the week long course, but not the low point either.
One time when I was leading a three week trip in the wilderness and it was near the end of the course. Most of the food was gone and we had been living off the land for a few days. Most of spices were gone, as well as the staples, but we still had a liter bottle of soy sauce and of cooking oil, that had been hidden at the bottom of a food pack; and a few pounds of biscuit mix. I sent half the students off to pick berries. Raspberries, Blackberries, and June Berries; all of which were growing near our camping spot that night. The rest I split up and asked to go into the meadow and pick the biggest, fattest, best looking red clover blossoms they could find; as well as any wild onions. That night for dinner we had Red Clover fritters, some with wild onions, some plain; dipped in a sweetened and spiced soy sauce. For desert were fruit biscuits. Everyone ate until they were full, a hearty appetite the best sauce of all.
While many people enjoy noshing on fresh blackberries and raspberries that the pick along roadsides and on the edges of abandoned fields, not many know how good an herbal tea the leaves are. Mildly astringent, they are quite refreshing. A teaspoon of honey makes it more so.
Besides an interesting tisane, it has medicinal benefits. According to the Peterson Guide to Medicinal Plants, years ago it was commonly used for stomach pains, diarrhea and dysentery, to strengthen pregnant women, as an aid in childbirth, for menstrual problems, and as a wash for sores and infections. Talk about a cure-all.
I am always amazed at how the simplest things are usually the best. Take chocolate mousse for example: it's a very simple mixture of whipped cream, whipped egg yolks, and melted chocolate and yet it's a classic dessert loved all over the world. Chocolate mousse would make an easy and delicious summer dessert any night of the week. Adding fresh berries makes this an even more summery dish.
Classically, chocolate mousse does not include any cream. For a traditional version, there's actually a bit of work involved, but there are plenty of recipes out there that turn out a light and creamy dessert with very little effort like this one. You can even find egg-free versions.
The traditional recipe involves making a pate a bombe, which is created when you add a cooked sugar syrup to egg yolks while they're mixing, and a basic merengue, and adding them to melted chocolate. That amount of work for a good chocolate mousse is avoidable with the recipes provided above. You'll be out of the kitchen in no time, with brownie points to spare!
Quickly: when I say the word "wine," what do you think of? California, Virginia, or New York? Spain, Chile, or Australia? Chateaux or vineyards? Silver trays of champagne circling through a wedding reception? Winos swilling rotgut? Seventies swingers dipping bread cubes into fondue while pronouncing the Mateus "amusing?" Drunken college kids doing box-wine funnels? Or do you think of dessert?
All summer, my yearly seizure of frozen dessert making has been in full swing. You know the drill: as a season dawns, you feel besieged by the love of seasonal ingredients and compelled to express the love in your kitchen. In fall it's pumpkins and in spring it's the first vegetables (vegetable marrows, if you're a Christie fan). And, for me, in summer, it's ice cream. And sorbet. And lemon ices. And milkshakes (cabinets, if you're a Rhode Islander).
And ice cream sandwiches with a bit of that brown wafer still adhered to sticky wrapping paper. And digging through the arctic wonderland of the ice cream case to get to the shy banana popsicle that always hides among the more sociable grape and orange. And the homemade version you found in the freezer in ice cube trays with toothpicks standing at attention. And dashing into a convenience store off the interstate for a cherry slush. And walking through the county fair, trying to eat your snow cone before it melts and a sluice of sugary water runs out of the hole in the bottom of the conical paper cup and down your arm, screaming "buffet" to the mosquitoes who were killing time waiting for you to come along.
From the loading dock/back door of my brewery/distillery I look out past the parking lot to a sea of green, yellow, and purple as well. I love the color combination of bright golden yellow and green. This time of year that usually means Sweet Goldenrod.
Sweet Goldenrod leaves make a great herbal tea, also called a tisane. The leaves, when fresh picked have a delicate anise-like aroma, mixed with a bright green herbal hints as well. the leaves can be brewed into tea, whether fresh leaves, or dried. The fresh leaves make a delicate tea with more of the anise-like flavor, but I prefer the leaves dried. When slow-dried they have a light anise and bright green/gold flavor. If you dry them in a low oven with the door ajar, watching them carefully so they don't scorch, you get a more pronounced, warm , golden, deep, anise and hay complexity; with a touch of agreeable bitterness. A bare hint of sugar or honey round it out and make for an exceptional tisane.
Besides tasting great, Sweet Goldenrod tea has some medicinal benefits. According to Peterson Field Guide of Medicinal Plants, it has been used as a digestive stimulant, for stomach cramps, coughs, colds, and more. As with all wild edibles and medicinals, one should only try a small sample for the first time. You never know if you may have an allergy or reaction of some type and Sweet Goldenrod may cause minor allergies to some people. If after trying a small sample you feel fine, you can try larger amounts.
While in Maine, I had enough blueberry pies to blow me up and turn me violet like the character Violet Beauregarde in the film Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory. I've been told that Maine has over 60,000 acres of wild blueberries this time of the year. So, what better way to take in the agriculture of Maine than to savor a bite or two of blueberry pie.
I had one blueberry pie, in particular, that stood apart from all the rest. It was at Jordan's, a diner-like institution, in Bar Harbor, Maine. It was served with a large scoop of deliciously sweet and creamy vanilla ice cream. The crust at the top of the pie was slightly flaky. The bottom tasted like a soft chewy cookie. Ah, the tiny blueberries bursting with flavor in the inside!
Last summer, a reader took the opportunity to excoriate me for my perceived show-offery when a sorbet recipe I posted mentioned the use of an ice cream maker. Well, for one, a goodly percentage of ice cream, sherbet and sorbet recipes conclude with the mandate to "freeze according to ice cream maker's directions" and for another, it was a goshdarned wedding gift!
Perhaps some small accord could be struck, or perhaps even kicked with the use of the UCO Play & Freeze Ice Cream Maker. Ice and rock salt are added to one chamber and edible ingredients to another. The whole unit is then hand-tightened together and the merrymaking/ice cream churning commences. The ball can be tossed, shaken, passed and generally frolicked about with, then opened and stirred, resealed and agitated again until the mixture reaches a pleasing consistency, and co-churners have worn out all "Have a ball!" related puns.
Still, should the $16.50 expenditure (via Amazon) still seem a tad schmancy, I included a coffee can agitation method in a post on Soul-Saving Sweet Tea Sherbet a while back.
It's been 16 days since I suggested we declare August "Fruit Beer Month" and it finally looks like the print press is catching up with me. I recently saw on the wire that "Light, refreshing fruit-based beers are way hot for summer." Duh! That's what I've been trying to tell you.
But in her article, Lauren Chapin points out some interesting facts:
1) "In 2007, fruit beer sales grew a stunning 37 percent, making it the fastest-growing segment of the beer industry, according to Paul Gatza, director of the Brewers Association." This figure is in comparison to a 16% growth in craft beers sales overall for '07 (as also determined by the Brewers Association). Thus, it comes as no surprise why '08 has felt like the summer of fruit beers. If you don't like 'em, don't blame me, blame capitalism!
Find two more interesting aspects after the jump...