Happiness is Sour Cherry Pie and a Big Blue Ribbon

When I started this blog , I was trying to write myself out of the blues. My landscape design business was really quiet (post economic meltdown) and I cooked to keep myself busy. Cooking my way to happiness.

This week, Thursday, the day the NPR story ran, more than 7,000 of you came by for a visit. It's more than overwhelming. And I'm more than grateful.  I'm doing what I love. Cooking, tinkering in the kitchen, putting up food, and writing about it. I'm feeling pretty lucky. I have a chance to set off on a new path, now - at age 53? Why ever not.

I was standing in line this morning, waiting to enter a Pie Contest sponsored by the Bethesda Central Farm Market. (A fundraiser for Manna Food Center.)  It was a great day, the first fall breezes blew through the market in the morning, the end of summer sun warmed everything by noon. There were nearly thirty pies entered.

There were beautiful heirloom tomato pies, pecan pies (one chocolate pecan that I would have eaten by myself), an apple pie that smelled deliciously of cinnamon and sugar. A grasshopper pie - haven't had one of those in years! And many a peach, nectarine, blueberry and mixed fruit. There were double crusts, single crusts, crumbles crusts, lattice crusts, and mine, a sour cherry pie, covered with stars. I used the filling I canned with the Food52'ers last month.

Bonnie Benwick from The Washington Post and Carole Sugarman from Bethesda Magazine were the judges and a crowd gathered to watch them sample. I stood with some friends, and some competitors and we watched. My friend's daughter Leah whispered sotto voce "They're trying your star pie, now!" and we all laughed. It was such a nice convivial group gathered waiting for the results.

And guess what? I won! The Grand Prize - a $100 gift certificate to one of our favorite Bethesda restaurants, Raku and a pretty blue ribbon. I'm a sucker for a blue ribbon.

Here's what I've learned in the last few months. It's never too late to do anything that brings joy to your life.

Start a blog, learn to use social media (Facebook and Twitter) which leads to meeting fantastic, warm, generous, people (we're all ageless on Twitter.) And even enter a pie contest. 

This couldn't have come on a better day. It's our 11th Wedding Anniversary.

Best Pie Crust 
(from my mother, Jan, and my grandmother, Bea, and very likely Madeline Kamman)

8 T unsalted butter, ice cold and cut in cubes
1-1/3 c flour
1/4 c ice water

In a food processor, pulse the butter and flour until it's sandy and in pea sized lumps.
Dump in all the cold water and run the processor until the crust comes together in a ball.
Form into a disk and chill for 4 hours, or overnight (better.)

No food processor? No problem. Blend the butter and flour with your fingertips (if your hands are naturally warm, cool them under the faucet before you start.) When the flour and butter are sandy and in pea sized lumps, add the ice water and blend with your fingers until it comes together.
Turn out on a countertop and press the ball out with the heel of your hand, pushing away from you. Gather the dough, push away again, gather and STOP FUSSING.
Form into a disk, even if you think it's not very homogenous. Chill for 4 hours or overnight.

I’m trying to blog my way to the AARP Orlando@50 conference. This blog post is an entry in their competition to find the official blogger to travel to and cover the event. Find out more about the conference here.

September? Already? NPR Morning Edition and Fig Lemon Thyme Confitures

Yesterday was an amazing day. NPR's Morning Edition ran the canning story at the end of the second hour. I sat in my kitchen, nervous as I've ever been, waiting to hear it.

I loved it. Linda Wertheimer took four hours of cooking and chatting and pulled together a cohesive, charming tale of canning. And I think it did a lot to dispel the notion that canning is onerous.

I'll admit that hearing my own voice on the radio was a bit of a shock. When did I start sounding so much like my mother? Or my brother?

But when I got over all the self-critical stuff, I was really happy.

I knew traffic would be up here on the blog, but never in a million years did I expect to be so overwhelmed so instantly. Every time I checked email, there were 75-100 new messages. And comments here. And on Facebook. And phone messages. Really amazing. I love you all. Thank you for sharing the day with me.

And thank you, Linda Wertheimer, Sasa Woodruff (the brilliant, wonderful producer I worked with) and Leah Scarpelli (the production assistant who recorded all the pings and plops and other sounds of the canning kitchen.) Everyone was so wonderful. All professional, smart, and interested - just as you might imagine from NPR.

There's only one more recipe from the Morning Edition show to share with you, and that's the French-style fig jam we made. This is a very sophisticated preserves, more confitures than jam. The thin slices of lemon are bitter in the same way marmalade has a sweet and sharp taste, and the figgy goodness and honey laced syrup balance beautifully. It's exquisite with cheese - anything from a soft fromage blanc to the more developed aged cheeses - my personal favorite is the Grayson Reserve produced by Meadow Creek Dairy (I find it at Stoneyman Gourmet Farmer, Bethesda Central Farm Mkt.) A sinful lunch? Grilled cheese sandwiches with fontina and this jam.

I've employed the maceration technique I learned from Christine Ferber in order to infuse the syrup with the thyme and give the lemons some time to soften. You can skip this step, but I hope you won't.

Fig, Lemon, Thyme Confitures
Makes 12-4 oz jars

4 lbs. fresh figs - Black Mission figs are gorgeous, Brown Turkey figs were equally lovely
3 organic lemons, sliced very thinly, seeds removed
1 c wildflower, acacia or clover honey
3 c sugar
1 large bunch thyme, tied together

Pour boiling water over the figs, allow to stand for 10 minutes and then drain. Quarter the figs, then place them in a large preserving or other non-reactive pan.

Wash the lemons well and slice very thin with a mandoline or a sharp knife. Remove the seeds. Add the lemons, honey, sugar and thyme to the figs.

Bring the jam to a simmer, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Pour into a ceramic or glass bowl, cover with parchment and refrigerate overnight to develop the flavors.

The next day, put the jam back into the preserving pan and bring up to a full rolling boil. Boil hard for five minutes. Remove the thyme.

I like this as a loose jam, but if you want it to be firmer, just add one packet of liquid pectin at this point and follow package directions.

Pour hot jam into hot sterilized jars and process for 10 minutes in a boiling water bath.

Have a wonderful Labor Day weekend. Around here, we'll be working on getting the house put together. I'm very close to showing you all what it looks like - we're just waiting for three more pieces of furniture to arrive and I want to get some art back up on the walls before the grand unveiling.

Cooking for a Crowd: Carnitas and Red Chile Sauce

We recently said adieu to some friends. It wasn't a terribly painful parting, as they're sure to be back in two years, after Corbin's assignment in New Jersey ends. But it was still bittersweet. Amy and I have not seen enough public gardens, yet.

There were about 15 of us who gathered for this shindig. The other two co-hosts, Adele and Lucia, made salads and desserts. Guest of Honor Amy made some seriously wonderful guacamole. I offered up Borrachos and Carnitas.

There were margaritas. Yes, there were.

I've never made carnitas, but I've eaten them many times, from Chipotle's simple fare to the exceptional street food in Mexico. When they're good, carnitas are silky, crispy, succulent. When bad? greasy, tasteless, stringy, dry.

I was determined to do it right. I read Diana Kennedy and Rick Bayless. I searched through the Gourmet Cookbook, How to Cook Everything, and a few other books on the shelf. I trolled the internet from David Lebovitz to WilliamSonoma. I put out the question to the Twitterverse.

And this is what I came to understand. Carnitas are twice cooked. First, slow roasted with herbs, spices and - always - oranges, cinnamon stick and onions. Some recipes called for oregano (Mexican) or thyme. Some recipes use chiles and rubs to create heat in the slow cooked portion.

Carnitas start out the same way as most confits. The meat is poached slowly in fat. The fat created by the pork shoulder is not sufficient to submerge the shoulder, either whole or cut into chunks, so it's necessary to supplement  with additional fat. Some recipes called for lard, others for olive oil. I went the traditional route and used lard - good lard, from Smith Market Farms. It smelled clean, slightly bacon-y.

But, using a technique learned in Charcuterie class, I also added quite a bit of water. By mixing the fat with water, the temperature will not rise above 212°, the boiling point of water, and the meat will not fry, but will slow-cook and poach.

Next, the meat is crisped - broiled.

Then, they are wrapped up in a tortilla with a sauce, and appropriate garnishes. It's a red chile sauce, as a matter of fact. I recieved this sauce info on very good authority from good friend Jen at Last Night's Dinner. And drew upon my experiences at our friends' home in Tepoztlan, Mexico, cooking with Tere, their fantastic cook.

Here is the recipe and the technique I culled from all those sources. It made a scrumptious, silky, crispy meat with an incendiary chile sauce on the side.

Maybe you're going to celebrate the end of summer and have some people over for Labor Day? Try this recipe. You'll impress yourself.

Pork Carnitas
Serves 8-12, depending on menu

3.5-5# pork shoulder or pork butt - I don't need to tell you to buy free ranging, foraging pork, do I?
1 T kosher salt
3 large yellow onions, quartered
3 garlic cloves, crushed
3 oranges, quartered
2 cinnamon sticks
3 bay leaves
1 large bunch of thyme
1 pt good quality lard or good olive oil

Two days before you're going to confit the pork, rub the salt all over the meat and refrigerate, covered.

One or two days later, whatever works with your schedule, cut up the pork into large chunks. Don't wash the salt off - it's all the salt you'll be using for the entire recipe. You can skip the salting and resting part, but I think it makes for better crispy parts.

Part one - Confit
In a large heavy pot - I used a 7 qt. Staub - layer the pork chunks, onions, garlic, oranges, cinnamon, bay leaves, thyme and lard. Start this all slowly on top of the stove while the oven preheats to 225°.

As the lard melts, stir things around. Once it's all melted, if the meat is not completely submerged, add water to raise the level. Bring all this to a slow simmer.

Put the uncovered pot in the oven to slowly cook for 4-6 hours. Check on it every 30 min. or so, stir gently and add more water if needed. It should be slowly simmering.

Once the meat is falling apart tender, remove from the oven. Part one is now done. You can either store the pork in the fat until you are ready to serve, or you can move directly on to part two.


Part two - Crispy Bits
Remove the meat from the fat. Some of the fat will be needed for the crisping, so don't be obsessive. Whether or not you save the fat, to cook your next batch of carnitas, is between you and your freezer.
Shred into large chunks and spread out on a parchment lined baking sheet.
Broil for 6-10 minutes, depending on your broiler - so watch - until the edges are nice and crispy.

You'll want to have a sauce for this pork. One that is laced with the heat and smoke and depth of great chiles. I love the chocolatey nature of the pasilla, and the heat of the guajillo and the bite of the arbol. I made the sauce one day in advance, to let the flavors develop.

Red Chile Sauce
can be made ahead
If you have a comal, blister the vegetables on that. I used my skillet.

12 plum tomatoes
4 yellow onions, quartered
4 garlic cloves, crushed
1 dried guajillo chile
1 dried pasilla chile
1 dried ancho chile
2-4 dried arbol chiles

Toast the chiles, then seed, stem and rough chop.
Blister the tomatoes, onions and garlic until blackened and the skins are splitting. Core the tomatoes.
Add everything to the blender and puree.
Add back to the skillet, heat and thicken slightly.
Serve hot.

Serve the carnitas with every good thing

Flour tortillas, warmed
Guacamole
Pickled or Fresh Jalapenos
Scallions
Greens or Cabbage or Arugula
Chunks of fresh tomato
Roasted corn
Queso Fresco
Red Chile Sauce
Extra hot sauces
Borrachos
Rice

At the party we also served: a cabbage slaw, tomato salad, grilled corn
Dulce de Leche Brownies, blackberry cobbler, vanilla ice cream
Perfect.

All best wishes to Amy, Corbin, Hayden and Koda in their new home.


Have a happy, safe, end-of-summer weekend.


I've heard the NPR piece will air sometime next week. In the meantime, a lovely web piece has been posted on the NPR site.

Giraffes in the Yard, Beach Reading, and Peachy Spicy Salsa

Peaches have been bountiful this summer.

I'm at the beach this week, enjoying alternating days of sun and clouds, with a few rainstorms, thunderclaps, and bizarro occurences thrown in. Seriously, this has been a strange week.

I can't keep this story to myself.

Two nights ago, at 2am, Dennis shot out of bed shouting "Police!" In my normal befuddled to be awakened way, I stumbled around saying "what? what?" "Didn't you hear that? The police are in the yard." I had heard nothing at all. Dennis rushed to the front of the house.

Our friend K emerged from her bedroom, and, looking across the backyard, saw a policeman standing over what initially appeared to be a pillowcase on the ground. No, it was a slim young man being handcuffed, then hauled to his feet.

Dennis and I, at the front of the house, watched as a young man in nothing more than a bathing suit (no shirt, no shoes, no future) was frogwalked to a waiting police car.

The police came back to talk to us, explaining that the perp had stolen a raft a few blocks over and there had been a chase through backyards and across quiet streets, ending in the yard of our rental house. I must interject here and explain that I heard "giraffe" - not raft - and was thrown into such a tizzy trying to figure out what in the world a giraffe was doing in Dewey Beach.

The cops have come back again to take our name. Two very nice young men - seriously, when did cops start to look like children?

The perp/kid is already out on bail. He was drunk as a coot, and had nothing on him except those bathing trunks. No ID, no cell phone, no car keys. No one knows where he stashed the giraffe.

Beyond shooting episodes of COPS in our backyard, the beach has been a delicious few days of lazy reading and delicious simple meals. It's been just the relaxation I've needed after all the weeks of renovation.

Louie has loved the beach. And made several friends. Here he is running with Kennedy the Great Dane. But his best friend is Clover, a 9 month old Wheaton Terrier. (I'm testing and learning about video, in the hopes I can take the camera into the kitchen soon.)

I love nothing more than reading while listening to the waves break. Here are a few reading recommendations:







































(re: THE PASSAGE - I had to stop reading it because I had nightmares, but if you like scary books, it's engaging.)


The NPR story is supposed to run this week and I will post as soon as I know more. In the meantime, here's a very easy and utterly delicious peach salsa that is a little spoon of summer every time. Great with scrambled eggs, which is how I served it to Linda Wertheimer, and on top of a simple cheese quesadilla, fantastic.


Peachy Spicy Salsa
Makes 5-6 pints
Adapted from the Ball Blue Book of Preserving

6 cups ripe peaches, peeled and diced
1-1/4 c red onion
1-2 jalapeno peppers, ribs and seeds removed or intact, according to your personal taste
1 c sweet red pepper
3 cloves garlic
1/2 c fresh cilantro
3/4 c cider vinegar
2 T honey
2 tsp cumin
1/2 t cayenne

In a large pot of boiling water, blanch the peaches for 30-60 seconds, depending on the size of the fruit.
Have ready a large bowl of ice water. I like to fill my sink, or a cooler, with ice water. Slip the peels from the peaches, then remove the pit and cut into a 1/2" dice.

Add the peaches to a 5 qt. non-reactive pan. Add the cider vinegar, honey and spices and stir well. The vinegar will keep the fruit from discoloring.

Put the onion, peppers, garlic and cilantro in the food processor and pulse until everything is cut up quite small, but not liquified in any way. (If you don't have a food processor, chop by hand, but make sure the pieces are smaller than the pieces of peach.

Add the chopped vegetables to the peaches and bring to a boil.

Reduce the heat and simmer for 25 minutes, stirring gently so the peaches do not break apart.

Put hot salsa into hot pint jars and process in a boiling water bath for 15 minutes.

PS I have also made this salsa with 1/2 peaches and 1/2 tomatoes - WONDERFUL!

Voices in the Kitchen, Tomatoes in a Jar and My Mexican Style Vegetarian Casserole

Last week was a very exciting time in Mrs. Wheelbarrow's kitchen. Yes, indeed.

Linda Wertheimer from National Public Radio came for a visit.

I still can't quite believe it.

(And if you wonder why there are no pictures... Ms. Wertheimer made it clear that anyone taking her photo IN SHORTS was destined for the death penalty. I totally get that.)

This is how it happened - out of the blue, I had a call from a producer at NPR wondering if I was interested in doing a segment on canning for Morning Edition. We exchanged a few emails, I provided some recipe ideas, and we settled on four recipes - Crushed Tomatoes, Pickled Green Tomatoes, Peach Salsa and Fig, Honey, Lemon Confitures. (I'll be posting all the recipes this week.)

setting up for the day

It was a great morning. Linda and I spent about four hours together. She's as engaging and charming and totally brilliant as you might imagine. Dennis, who was sitting quietly in the other room, said he kept thinking "That's a familiar voice in the kitchen." And he wasn't talking about mine!

Beyond the canning, because I just can't help myself (doing what Dennis calls a "full-Cathy") I cooked some scrambled eggs for Linda and her production assistant, Leah, as the perfect foil to taste the salsa.

gorgeous cheeses and some fig confitures

I offered three spectacular cheeses from Stoneyman Gourmet Farmer - a fromage blanc, aged, washed rind goat cheese, and the magnificent Greyson Reserve, an aged cheese that's just a teeny bit stinky, all ready to be spread on a nice baguette from Marvelous Market. (I actually got up at 5am to make a fresh baguette and managed to burn it when I was in the shower...)

And at the end of our canning, I made petite bahn mi sandwiches, to show how I use pickled jalapenos.

I practiced all weekend to be ready for NPR - lots of tomatoes were canned

It took all of the three and a half hours to cook up the recipes, starting with blanching about 25 lbs of tomatoes. Big beautiful Brandywines were dipped in boiling water, then shocked in a sink of ice water, before slipping off the skins, squeezing all the juice out, and plopping the pulp into a big stockpot.

It was a great morning in the kitchen. The time flew by for me. I was in some sort of panicked, nervous haze and, of course, can barely remember the experience. Dennis reported that I did not say UM or YOU KNOW or otherwise sound like a teenager. At the end of it all, there was a mountain of dishes. It was all just wonderful fun and very, very exciting.

Next week, when the segment airs, we'll see just how it all worked out. But in the meantime, it's time to talk about putting up tomatoes - you'll want that fresh taste of summer to last.

It's the height of tomato season and every farmer's market and farm stand is bursting with the beautiful red fruits. I start to get a little canning anxiety at this time of year, wondering how I will find the time to get enough fresh, local tomatoes into jars before the frost.

There is nothing in the canning cupboard more useful than canned tomatoes. I've made sauce, salsa and soup, and while all those are great to have, the fact is, with jars of simple crushed tomatoes on the shelf, you can make sauce and salsa and soup during the year. I probably use two jars a week during the winter.

In the last few days, in preparation for NPR, I purchased "seconds"  - boxes of slightly bruised and very ripe - tomatoes from three farmers. One gave me mostly heirloom tomatoes, Cherokee Purple, Mr. Stripey and some Oxheart. One gave me mostly Oxheart and Brandywine. And the third gave me all Brandywine. I've decided I like canning Brandywine tomatoes best. That is, until the Romas, San Marzanos and other plum tomatoes show up.

Here's the low down on crushed tomatoes. Think about whether you will use pints (16oz) or quarts (32oz). Do you currently buy cans of tomatoes for certain recipes? Always have some of the can leftover? You might be happier with pints. Use three or four cans at a time for your Nonna's Gravy? Put up quarts, for sure. Determine whether you have a stockpot large enough to accomodate a rack, the jars and 2" of water over the top of the jars. My 12 qt stockpot will hold pints, and is just barely large enough for quarts.

If you can get some friends to help you, there is no reason you can't process 100# of tomatoes, or more, in a day. Make it fun. Chill some wine. Put on good music. And dive right in.

practice jars (and some tuna I canned, too)

Crushed Tomatoes in a Jar

Quart or Pint Jars with lids and rings - sterilize these in the dishwasher and leave them in there to stay warm

Ripe tomatoes
Bottled Lemon Juice (Do not substitute fresh squeezed lemon juice. Use the best quality bottled lemon juice you can find - I use ReaLemon - this is what standardizes the acidity in each jar. Regardless of the type tomato you are using and will keep the tomatoes safe)
Kosher or canning salt

Dip the tomatoes in boiling water for 30-60 seconds, then plunge into a large bowl filled with ice water. I use my sink or a cooler.

Once all the tomatoes have been blanched, begin peeling and crushing them with your hands. Cut out the core and any soft spots, then cut an X in the base of the tomato and slip off the peel.

Squeeze the tomato in your hands, releasing the juice and most of the seeds, then either chop further or just place the crushed pulp in a deep, non-reactive stockpot. Continue to peel and crush until all the tomatoes are in the stockpot.

Bring the tomatoes to a hard boil and boil well for 5 minutes.

Put 2 T lemon juice and 1 t salt in each quart jar. (For pints, use 1 T lemon juice and 1/2 tsp salt.)

Fill the jar with hot tomatoes, leaving 1/2" headspace. Wipe the rims, place the lid and ring, and finger tighten.

Process in a boiling water bath for 45 minutes (quarts) or 40 minutes (pints.)

Turn off the stove, remove the lid, and allow the jars to rest in the hot water for five minutes, then remove them to a towel on the counter. Leave them, undisturbed, for 24 hours.

After a day, test the seals, wipe the jars clean, and store in a cool, dry place for up to a year.

If you're wondering what to do with those crushed tomatoes, here's one of our favorite vegetarian casseroles. It's a riff on a classic Mexican dish using leftover corn tortillas. Freezes like a dream. In fact, I made two, and one has come to the beach with us, ready to be popped into the oven for a happy do-nothing dinner.

Mexican Style Vegetarian Casserole
Serves 6

1 T olive oil
1 large bunch kale, leaves stripped from the stem and chopped
1 extra firm tofu block, drained
12 corn tortillas, dried at room temperature for about half an hour
1-1/2 c grated Cheddar and Monterey Jack cheese
6 oz queso fresco, crumbled
1 quart crushed tomatoes
1 onion, chopped coarsely
2 garlic cloves
1-2 jalapenos, seeded
3 T olive oil

In a skillet, heat about 1/4" of oil, and quickly fry the tortillas one at a time, turning them once, until they are soft - just 20 seconds or so. Transfer the cooked tortillas to paper towels to drain.

In a blender, puree the tomatoes, onion, garlic cloves and jalapenos.

Mexican tomato sauce ingredients

In the same skillet, with the remaining oil, add the pureed tomato sauce and cook for 10 minutes to thicken slightly. Set aside.

In the skillet, wilt the kale in a little olive oil for 3-5 minutes. Set aside.

Cut the tofu into cubes. Set aside.

Now, in a 12 x 9 baking dish, compose your casserole - a little sauce on the bottom, a layer of tortillas (about four,) tofu, kale, one-third of the cheeses, some sauce, another layer of tortillas, and so on. Finish with cheese.

Bake at 350° for about 15 minutes. Remove the foil and cook another 5 minutes, until everything is bubbly.