Clutter and Lacto-Fermented Date Chutney.

Today's weather is hopeless. The sky is the same color at 3 PM as it was at 7 AM, and the wind, rain, tiny bits of hail, and thunder have reminded me constantly all day that it is Spring at long last - even if there will be no playing around outside today to confirm it. Knowing that tonight's dinner would be made up of leftovers, I decided this rainy day was as good a time as any to go through some recipe clutter.

The last time I sat down with a stack of recipes to attempt organization with was before the Boy-O was born into the world. I remember, because the idea of not going to work was still new, and I sat quietly at my kitchen table for an entire 8 hours editing and paring down, going through magazines and stowing only the things I knew I would make. My ruthlessness was shocking, and very difficult for me, but I did clear stacks of paper and nicely arrange everything first into page protectors and then on into 3-ring binders.

As I started this bright idea early this morning, I immediately noticed that my cooking life has changed dramatically in the past 4 years. Home life is no longer new, the once new idea of extra time is now habitually on my side. My older self despises collecting anything new and shutters at the thought of (although I feel like I still have plenty of it) clutter. Looking over the loose pages of things to categorize and file I realized that I cook differently than I used to. I may plan something around what I have a taste for once in a week, but I rarely follow recipes anymore, preferring instead to see what needs using up and then throwing something together.

That isn't to say that little pictures or the many pages of things I looked through today don't spark my interests. I've let all of my magazine subscriptions expire, mostly just because I know it's difficult for me to pare down, not because I don't enjoy them. I do miss things in print, in my real hands. I do not miss stacks of pages that start taking over my kitchen, making me feel harried and stressed out.

In the midst of a paper pile, I found several Everyday Food pages - remnants of a subscription I got (for super cheap) 2 years ago. I would have had no recollection of this date chutney, but I count it fortuitously to my advantage that it chose to resurface just before Easter since it is recommended to be eaten atop chicken, pork loin, or ham. Given my predisposition to lacto-ferment almost anything that strikes my fancy lately, I decided to give this condiment the same treatment. I tasted it prior to packing it up into the jar, and let me tell you, the Easter Ham that will be on the table at my Parents house this weekend never seemed so far away. I have a pretty good suspicion that this will be tremendous on sandwiches as well.

I had exactly 8 oz. of dates to use up, and modified the recipe to approximate what I thought would just about fill a pint canning jar. (I used weights, since I find it impossible to accurately measure dates in a measuring cup, but you can pretty much use any amount and come up with something tasty.) My pint jar was shy of the top about 2 inches, and I could increase things a bit more for the next go around. Make this as spicy as you like, I left it on the somewhat mild side, figuring that I can amp up my heat with candied jalapenos - something I add to almost anything I eat. Don't let the lacto-fermenting stop you from making this, either... just omit the whey and add more vinegar and eat within 3 weeks as Everyday Food suggests.

Lacto-Fermented Date Chutney (adapted from Everyday Food)

• 2 T. olive oil
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1/2 white onion, finely chopped
• 1 chile de arbol
• 1 t. brown mustard seed
• 6 oz. dates, chopped
• 1 oz. raisins, chopped (I used dark Thompson raisins, but you could use golden raisins as suggested in the original recipe)
• 1/2 t. cayenne pepper
• salt to taste (about 1/2 t.)
  
• 1/2 c. (plus extra if needed) water
• 1 T. cider vinegar (like Braggs)
• 1 1/2 T. whey

Heat the olive oil in a heavy, non-reactive saucepan over medium-high heat along with the minced garlic. When the garlic begins to sizzle, add onion and arbol chile and saute until onion just softens and begins to turn color, about 4 minutes.

Add the mustard seed, saute about 1 minute until the seeds start to pop.

Add the dates, raisins, salt, cayenne, water and vinegar, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat, and keep at a simmer for about 5-10 minutes to evaporate most of the water and soften the dates. (I kept the pan covered for about half of the time.) Add additional water as needed so that the chutney maintains the consistency that you prefer, a bit on the thick side was how I liked it.

Remove from heat, and cool to room temperature.

Add whey, and stir to combine. Add additional water to adjust consistency, and taste for final seasoning. Pack into a clean pint jar, and seal tightly. Let sit at room temperature for 3 days before transferring to cold storage.

The finished chutney tasted amazing... actually figgy and bacony. I assume this was because I used the garlic and onion, but really, I was surprised. The spiciness of the cayenne (and maybe that lone chile de arbol) was fleeting against the sweet dates and raisins. I can't wait a few days to try it again, but I will (unlike the last time, when I polished off the Nigella-Like Salsa within three days). I have a feeling it will age well, and will top off a ham sandwich like nobody's business.

It seems I'm all about lacto-fermenting the condiments lately. Two days ago, I turned some leftover ancho chile sauce that I made for enchiladas into a chile ketchup of sorts - adding lots of toasted, re-hydrated guajillo and arbol chiles and some ketchupy spices... I have another day or so to wait before tasting it again, and I'll try and add some additional spice and maybe some vinegar then. So far, the deep brick red of it has not persuaded me to open the jar and taste it - though it's not without considerable restraint on my part.

It seems I don't get voraciously hungry until Summer - and understandably so. I'm much more active, the foods available are fresh and readily growing thus more appealing. Meanwhile, I'm eating through the stores of last year, mainly my freezer, and adding scoops of insanely appealing lacto-ferment stuff to almost every meal. Days like this remind me to be thankful: the ground will wake up and warm up, and maybe I'll be a better gardener this year than last. With the last of the organization on the table, I should be better mannered now that I, generally speaking, do not add any more to the pile. I can only hope to remain so well-behaved.

Homegrown Philly in Milwaukee

When I was contacted at the end of March by Marisa (from Food in Jars) and Caroline at the Philadelphia Tourism department about checking out some local foods from Philadelphia, I was very excited. With the current state of the postal service and the ever upward rise in electronic communication, I rarely get any personal mail. I even more rarely get mail that is any fun at all. I was really looking forward to getting a box of mystery foodstuffs to sample, and the chance to travel just a bit without leaving home.

Philly Homegrown is a project through the Greater Philadelphia Tourism and Marketing Corporation.

If I am honest, I have been hugely influenced by Marisa McClellan at Food in Jars. When I started my blog two years ago, I started reading more blogs and being influenced by great blogs like Food in Jars. What I didn't expect from the experience of sharing a bit of myself with the world was that I would find inspiration to do that which I always had in me to do: home preservation.

Growing up in a canning household, I rested comfortably on the laurels of my family, while only doing a batch of jam here and there myself for something to do. I could have had a pantry full of things for each time I told someone "My Mom cans that" or "My Gram used to can that". In the past 2 years, I've seen myself change completely. There are more homemade (and fermented!) foods in my diet than ever before and I have to thank Marisa for making home preservation look so attainable. If she could do it in her tiny apartment kitchen (and with a full-time job), then I could do it in my larger-by-comparison kitchen (in my current state of "unemployent"), right?

I have made many of her recipes, and even enlisted my Mom to make the ones that I ran out of time or ingredients for. While I come nowhere close to putting by the food that she does, I feel like I have become a competent preserver, and for that I thank her sincerely.

Since I have spent a lot of time reading about Philadelphia through Marisa's food, I think my anticipation of my box of Philly food included added dimension of excitement. Philadelphia always seemed like an interesting city through her eyes, even though I've never been. I immediately began my usual method of obsession, of future plans to include traveling to Pennsylvania. Then, my box came:

Click the picture to read more about the contents on Flickr...

I know we are in a time of Green everything, and that's not really a bad thing. It is certainly uncool to want excess waste, but I am still the biggest appreciator of great packaging. This box was no exception. It was great packaging that I saved every bit of to reuse. It was actually packed in a sturdy styrofoam cooler; this will have new life for years, since my Parents do a fair amount of traveling with food and are in need of such means of keeping things cool for short periods of time. The With Love packing paper that cushioned all the goods (pictured at top) got smoothed out and folded, most likely to reuse as wrapping things to send in the mail. I was even happy that the glass jars were of canning size - I have seen canning lids at the Amish bulk store that are the screw on type, and maybe this will be the summer I will experiment with that. Once I got past all the packaging, I laid everything out on the table. I had mail, great looking, edible mail. Isn't that the best kind?

The best part about a box like this is that these were all things that were unique to an area. I am proud of my state, and I got to peek just a little into another and see that same pride. I waited until the next morning to try the biscotti which was grainy and delicious, cut much thicker than the stuff I make myself. (And, studded with orange peel. So good.)

And I tried that tiny, darling jar of honey on a sourdough English muffin... and honey is so much one of my favorite things. All the nuance of place can be tasted in good honey.

And cheese. I am in Wisconsin, and still I am in no way a cheese expert (although I do eat my fair share). This raw cheddar was very good, stiff and buttery. I still have some left - and will try it with apple as suggested. I had some with the gluten free crackers and the sprouted grain crackers I had stashed in the freezer. (If you freeze crackers, it's marvelous. Fresh crackers whenever you demand them. I have my Mom to thank for that tip!)

So after a week or so of tastes, I thought I'd like to make up some kind of dinner using things I rarely have on hand like jarred tomato sauce. I opened the sauce and had a spoonful to see what I was working with. I have to preface that I don't buy jarred sauce, and I was surprised that this one tasted like summer tomatoes. Bright, tangy, delicious.

I had a half pound of crimini mushrooms that I knew I should use when they were still in optimum form, so I figured I'd make pasta with two types of "sauce". My pickiest eater, the Boy-O, has just recently started branching out. Slightly. If I pair something he likes with something unfamiliar on the side, chances are if I'm looking the other way he'll combine the two. The Stepped in What sauce lay in wait in a bright red pool... and mysteriously disappeared completely, sopped up by those delicious noodles.

It was actually difficult for me to open this package of pasta. It felt heavy and beautiful, and well cared for. It had two ingredients on the label and was a luxury item - if pasta can be considered luxury (and I'm pretty sure it can). I felt like I would be perfectly happy eating it with butter, salt and pepper only, but instead I sauteed an inch and a half of the cubed salame with some onion and garlic in a little olive oil and added some quartered mushrooms. Simple, but was it good! The salame is rich, and flavored everything for using such a small amount.

On the sourdough front: I haven't made a loaf of bread in more than a week due to the English muffin mayhem. For the past 2 weeks, I've been feeding the starter more (by more I mean half it's weight each in water and flour every morning), and can I ever tell the difference. It is much more active, and has much more rising power. I also folded the dough during the first fermentation, which incorporates air into the loaf. It could also be that we've had a string of gorgeous, warmish days as well, but my bread was perfect. I half suspected it to be hollow in the center it was so uniformly round and risen, but no - just perfect with small airy holes.

So, my dinner was maybe a little unconventional. I layered the oily salame sauce over the pasta then added a bit of tomato sauce on the side. When mixed, the assertive tomato sauce took over, but when eaten segregated, both were very delicious. I made a salad dressing reminiscent of a Caesar by boiling an egg for 45 seconds (oh, those Cook's Illustrated people!), then whisking it with garlic, lemon juice and olive oil. Sopping up the plate with bread was one of my favorite ways to end the day.

I'm not lying when I say that if I have a bit of money and a weekend to spare this Summer or early Fall, I want to go to Philadelphia. It's a place I never considered, and neither is a "foodie vacation". I know just the person I'll invite to meet me there, too. Thank you to Marisa and Caroline for sending me such a fun box, and no doubt hooking me on the food culture of Philadelphia just a little bit.

Born in the '50's. (Sourdough Tortillas and Mock Empanadas.)

I sometimes feel like I was born in the 50's. (Cue the Police.)

That was always one of my favorite tracks on Outlandos d'Amour, which I had (and who am I kidding, still have) on cassette. About the time that was in constant replay (about 15 years after it's 1978 release), I remember thinking how it could be possible that Sting was roughly the same age as my parents. C'mon, he was my age, right?

When I look back on my formative years, I do feel like it was a different era... and I suppose I get to thinking about this the most when Sundays roll around. We were a family who ate together every night, except for Sunday nights. Every weekday, there was one thing we could count on: that around 6:30 we would all be sitting around the dining room table. I didn't really know too many other people who did that, and it is probably true that I still don't. Even in my own 3 person family unit, only 2 of us are often eating meals together, since my Husband works strange hours (and has a strange appetite).

On most of my childhood Sundays, we would usually eat a later lunch. One that was often set on time-bake in the oven, to be ready approximately 30 minutes to an hour after we got home from church. Sunday nights were different, since we didn't usually have a planned dinner. We would pick at leftovers or make sandwiches, usually as a family. It may seem idyllic that my family life was like a postcard of the 50's, but it's true to some extent, and I wouldn't be half the person I am today if it wasn't.

My Sundays now are quite different than the ones I knew growing up. After church, we come home and I have no idea what I'm going to make for lunch. Usually it's just the Boy-O and I (especially during football season), and something always emerges from the kitchen in relative short-order fashion. Today, however, I planned ahead.

About a week ago I started feeding my starter more "adequately", half it's weight in flour and water every day. Not only does this give me tons of extra starter, it is so active it's frightening. I had to move to a larger container, since it regularly doubles it's volume. And, today I had to ditch some for the first time in a long time. With huge amounts of starter (and English muffin perfection behind me), I got it into my head yesterday that I had to try making sourdough tortillas.

They require planning ahead, about 12 hours, and are made entirely with wheat flour. I didn't really know what to expect flavor-wise, and was pleasantly surprised - especially when I thought of folding them over into makeshift empanadas. The bitterness of wheat flour disappears completely as it cultures. I had leftover "beans and meat", which is now the only animal protein my son will eat. About a month ago, I made tacos with ground meat (my Husband's favorite). After much coercion, my son had a single bite of meat and his eyes widened: "I can't believe I never tried this before! I love it!" were his remarks and now he asks for this food nearly every day. We had "beans and meat" tacos last night and leftovers for today. I still have leftovers, so I may pop them into the freezer for quick dinners when our weather finally breaks for good.

The recipe is from GNOWFGLINS. I thought since they were tortillas, I could roll them out with flour like ordinary tortillas - but actually the dough fell apart and stuck miserably when I tried rolling in my traditional way on a wooden board. Oiling the rolling pin and using the slick surface of the counter top worked much better, but there was still a learning curve for the feel of the dough. The pictures on the GNOWFGLINS site show a very thin tortilla, and I was not able to roll that thin. I'm betting that with a bit of practice they will be easier to roll.

About halfway through the griddling, I got the idea to sandwich my filling, creating a mock empanada. I actually preferred it better than eating them as tortillas. Tortillas are specific to me, and these were good, but tasted a bit too bread-like for my personal classification of "tortilla". That said, they are a great all-purpose flat bread that I'm looking forward to making again.

Mock empanada.

I made a half recipe of the amounts listed below and my yield was a dozen, plus 4 empanadas. (However, I did roll them a bit thicker.) I also mixed the dough up by hand with no trouble. I just kneaded the dough by hand in the bowl for several minutes until it was smooth.

Sourdough Tortillas with Mock Empanada variation (dough recipe from GNOWFGLINS)

• 6 cups whole wheat flour
  
• 1 1/2 cups pure water
• 1 1/2 cups fed starter
• 1 1/2 teaspoons sea salt
• 1/2 cup olive oil
  
• butter or oil for the griddle
  

Begin 12 hours or more before you want to eat tortillas.

Combine water, starter, salt and oil, and mix well with a wooden spoon.

Keep mixing, and add flour 1/2 cup at a time until dough is not too sticky to handle by hand. Knead gently by hand for several minutes until dough is not too sticky and forms a cohesive ball.

Place dough in an oiled bowl, and rotate the dough around so all sides get coated with the oil.

Cover with a damp towel or plastic wrap (I use the lid from a large pot).

When ready to make tortillas, heat a cast iron skillet to medium heat. Roll dough into balls, about golf ball size and put back into the bowl, covering them so they don't dry out. Pour a little olive oil on a smooth-surface counter (non-wood), and also oil the rolling pin.

When pan is hot, place a rolled out tortilla in the pan. Let it cook until there are several bubbles in the tortilla. Flip the tortilla with a spatula and cook the other side until the bubbles are browned.

Remove tortilla from pan and place between towels to stay warm and moist. Then, roll out the next tortilla. Repeat until all of the balls have been rolled out and cooked. Add oil to pan and/or rolling pin as needed, and oil (I used a touch of butter) the griddle to prevent sticking as needed. Store in a zipper seal freezer bag in refrigerator or freezer.

To make mock empanadas, roll out tortilla, and place a small amount of desired filling on half of the circle. Fold dough over (it is very moist, and will seal itself up without issue - you don't need to crimp the edges, unless you want to for aesthetics.) Carefully transfer to the skillet, and cover the pan with a lid to trap in some of the heat. Keep an eye on them, and flip after side one is nice and brown, about 4 minutes. Cook the second side for about the same time, monitoring heat levels to prevent burning.

I ate them with addicting cilantro-raisin chutney and candied jalapenos.

The mystique of my childhood and my confusion over the actual era is something I love thinking about as I get older. When I'm out of range of my favorite radio station, I can be found flipping around to find an "oldies" station, which sadly is becoming less 50's and 60's music and more 70's all the time. My 70's era is when I was more in my 20's... funny how I'm always about 30 years behind.

Today in Milwaukee, it was an unseasonable mid-80 degrees, so we spent most of the afternoon and evening outside soaking it into our Winter weary bodies. When we got back in the house about 5:30, I suddenly realized I was starving. I heated up that same trusty skillet I cooked the tortillas on earlier and seared some peppers and onions in a touch of coconut oil and a sprinkling of the spice mix I keep on hand thanks to Rick Bayless (1 t. Mexican oregano, 1/2 t. black pepper, 1/4 t. cumin, 1/8 t. cloves, 1 t. sugar and salt to taste, I mix enough to last me several occasions).

I laid a sourdough tortilla on top of the peppers to warm, and when eaten with more candied jalapenos, a slice of feta cheese (for lack of proper queso) and a smidge of cultured heavy cream I had to say that I was indeed satisfied. Later this evening, I popped the remaining two empanadas in the toaster oven, cloaked in foil, to heat up for my Husband who also liked them, doused in red Valentina sauce, confirming that I will make other versions in the future.

I am so thankful I was raised as I was, in a kinder, gentler era that I mistake for America's heartland in the 1950's. Maybe it was the watching of Back to the Future far too many times to count at my cousin's house, or my Dad's old records and 8 tracks convincing me that the Beatles and the Turtles were actually current music. (That changed with Madonna's True Blue, the first cassette I owned personally - it came with my first cassette player as a Christmas gift in 1986.) At any rate, those are days I love thinking about, especially on Sundays. I actually told someone today that I'll turn 35 this year, and while that is still a half year away I felt shocked at myself. Maybe that's why I'm all nostalgic this evening, I well remember my Parents specifically at 35. There you go: I've turned into my Parents. That, friends, is a very good thing.

Three batches of sourdough English muffins later...

About 6:00 last night, I finally got the English muffins I was looking for: a bit thicker and a little more uniform. I posted my crazy muffins addiction pictures here on flickr. But, a huge thank you to Teresa at Northwest Sourdough for commenting on my post. This is her recipe that I eventually followed exactly, and had stellar results. If you have extra starter fed and ready for action, why not give these a go over the weekend? You won't be sorry!

Nigella-Style Lacto-Ferment Salsa

Ah, Nigella Lawson. When I saw her new cookbook at the library I had to pick it up. I was shocked at it's weight, promptly ran home, and set it on my kitchen scale. 3 lbs, 12 oz. (1710 g.) of reading material, kitchen preferences, and generally good photography awaited me. I actually like reading Nigella, since she seems to be a person who writes exactly as she thinks, not pondering too long over the usage of particular words since she's hungry and wants to get to the point. I tend to like the ideas in her cookbooks as well, many of them are highly adaptable and quick since she famously loves to eat well but not too involved.

Reading through the introduction and her "batterie de cuisine" one night before bed, I couldn't help but notice the differences she and I share. She dislikes cast iron for it's heft (calling herself a "lazy wimp"), I grow to love it more every day. She sings the praises of her local canola oil (which - I'll bite, she makes me want to try - calling it's flavor "gorgeously mustardy and nutty"), I have been using olive or coconut oil religiously for over a year. But peppered in among the differences are the things that I also can't live without: the cast iron enameled Dutch oven, the bottle of vermouth, the box of vinyl gloves that protect my sensitive skin from such kitchen demons as lemon juice, chile pepper residue, raw corn and potato believe it or not...

Reading a detailed list of what people like and why is actually one of my favorite things to do. It highlights exactly why I like someone or why I should continue reading their book to get to the recipes. It lets me know why the book will be valuable to me as a resource long before I ever get to the one thing that is indispensable to me, the one thing in the book that I'll be addicted to for a long time, maybe even forever.

Early on in the book, under the heading of Easy Does It, comes a recipe for Jumbo Chili Sauce. Calling for red peppers and 3 1/2 cups of cilantro leaves, it piqued my interest. If there is one out of season thing I buy regularly all Winter and Spring long it's cilantro. Trucked in cilantro never lasts as long as the stuff grown steps from the kitchen, or picked up at a farm market, yet it beguiles me every time I stand amongst the produce thinking about what looks good, what's the cheapest, and what I have a taste for. Cilantro it seems, no matter the cost, always makes the cut.

It goes without saying then that I usually have some that needs using up, when the leaves around the edges start turning yellow 48 hours after their arrival home, reminding me always of the brevity of life. I am hopelessly addicted to this fermented raisin cilantro chutney, which I just made another small batch of the last time I was in this predicament, so I thought I'd try lacto-fermenting up some Nigella-style sauce. I cut the recipe in half, using all the half bunch of cilantro clamoring for my attention on the counter. I also blended the sauce on the well-combined side, masking all the bright red of last year's red peppers. It may not be the prettiest thing I've ever made, but the flavor is indeed it's saving grace.

I used already roasted, seeded and peeled red peppers that I had in my freezer, you can use canned or roast some up fresh yourself. You can play around with proportions to what suits you - after all that is the way of Nigella. I only let the ferment go about 24 hours, but when I make it again (and make a larger batch), I'll let it go 3 days at room temperature before transferring to cold storage. You can also blend it more on the chunky side, it may be a more attractive red instead of a muddied mustard yellow...

Nigella-Style Lacto-Ferment Salsa (adapted from Nigella Lawson, Nigella Kitchen book)

• 6 oz. roasted red peppers
• half small bunch cilantro, thick stems removed but some stems ok
  
• half a lime, plus half a lime's zest
• 3 chiles de arbol, rehydrated in boiling hot water for 10 minutes or so to soften
• 1/4 c. olive oil
• 1 T. whey
• 1/2 t. salt
• 1 small garlic clove

Blend everything except cilantro in a blender or food processor until as smooth or chunky as you like it. Add in cilantro, and blend (pulse) until chopped or blended to desired consistency. Pack into a clean jar (I left too much headspace in the photo above, but didn't worry about it since I knew I was going to eat it all right away!), and let sit at room temperature for 3 days in a more appropriately-sized container to ferment before transferring to cold storage.

Eat it on everything.

In classic Nigella fashion, I began thinking of all the stuff I could eat as a vehicle for this condiment. Yesterday, I had to pack a lunch for the Boy-O and I to eat at the museum we were going to after I picked him up from school. I knew I needed this sauce, and at the same time eyed a leftover half block of silken tofu in the fridge. I used an immersion blender to mix a heavy few tablespoons of my new favorite thing, the tofu, and some cashews for thickening and delicious sandwich filling was born. I wished I had some fresh sprouts to go with it, but made do with the butter lettuce that also called my name last time I shopped. The spread was so good, I could also see making some pasta and adding some height of the season cherry tomato halves, but sadly I'll have to wait awhile for that.

dip/sandwich spread.

I love kitchen projects for things like condiments. It allows me to eat the way I want to, without subjecting the boys to super spicy and fermented flavors if they should choose against it. I've been known to make a leftover lunch for myself using up spoonfuls of numerous half-filled jars with minuscule amounts of whatever I ate for dinner the night before. I like to hoard things I love with the best of them, but for some reason, I don't find it necessary with condiments. The next batch will taste different, and be as addicting I'm sure. I may even add more chiles, and it could then be worthy of scrambled eggs.