The other night, I made spicy turkey patties with blackberry-mango chutney, cheddar cheese drizzled in fig preserves, buttered-and-roasted green beans with wax peppers, and toasted Micaela's tortillas (best flour tortillas ever sold in a store).
I also discovered that, although considered fancy, chutney seems to be just leftovers from making infused vinegars. At least, mine is. I strained out my steeping blackberry vinegar, and used the chunks, per a paraphrasing of the 18 Century cook here, as a base for my chutney. I added some mangoes, sugar, and spices(?) and cooked them down a bit, then put 'em in a jar. I didn't 'can' in the traditional sense, as I plan to eat this over the next couple of weeks.
The tastes went really well together, and I was pleased. It's a very mild chutney, and probably could have used a bit of spicing up with some red peppers or chili flakes, but I liked it very much.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Sometimes things work out just like the book says!
A quick post: My earlier attempt at growing corn and pole beans together ended poorly... don't grow an early variety of corn with your pole beans, especially if you ultimately have a mild Summer. My corn grew stunted (poor soil), and died early, leaving my beans with little support for the rest of the year. However, I planted a second round, and they took together nicely. Here's a pic:
And, a closeup of the crop:
Very exciting stuff!
And, a closeup of the crop:
Very exciting stuff!
Thursday, August 27, 2009
My first canning... a jarring experience
© 2009 Joshua Stark
Not really, but I couldn't resist a title like that. Akin to my understanding that I shouldn't be a gym teacher (I enjoyed using running as a punishment as a substitute gym teacher), I now know I shouldn't be an editor, either. My title's can be misleading, but I'll do it anyway for a silly turn of phrase.
flx1247rg
Anyhow, just a quick note that I put some green beans in with a couple of hot peppers and a clove of garlic, completely forgetting the dill, into some vinegar, and gave them a bath. Having never done this before, I was happy to hear the satisfying pop! of the jar lid. However, I'm sure I'm missing something huge by accidentally leaving out the dill. Can anybody tell me the purpose of dill in pickling?
Well, after that pop!, and drunk on my new-found skill, I decided to make some fig preserves. Living on the Delta, we have many fig trees available to forage, at times as easily as blackberries, and there is one particular patch of trees right on the drive to my parents' house, so this week I collected what I figured to be around 10-12 lbs. of figs. Unfortunately, I let them sit for too long, and I lost a few, but I was left with what amounted to about 80 figs, or ultimately, 3 1/2 pints of preserves.
So I started boiling. And boiling. And boiling. Did I mention we started after 10 pm? Yeah... Around 11:15, I decided they were ready for their bath, so I checked the directions... 45 minutes, you say? Huh.
Just after midnight, I pulled the jars from the bath, and promptly went to bed. Lying in bed, the last sound I caught was the last pop! What a great sound to drift off to sleep in one's mind.
So here, at last, my first real attempt at canning. If you are one of the few to 'get' to try one of these, enjoy! And good luck.
Not really, but I couldn't resist a title like that. Akin to my understanding that I shouldn't be a gym teacher (I enjoyed using running as a punishment as a substitute gym teacher), I now know I shouldn't be an editor, either. My title's can be misleading, but I'll do it anyway for a silly turn of phrase.
flx1247rg
Anyhow, just a quick note that I put some green beans in with a couple of hot peppers and a clove of garlic, completely forgetting the dill, into some vinegar, and gave them a bath. Having never done this before, I was happy to hear the satisfying pop! of the jar lid. However, I'm sure I'm missing something huge by accidentally leaving out the dill. Can anybody tell me the purpose of dill in pickling?
Well, after that pop!, and drunk on my new-found skill, I decided to make some fig preserves. Living on the Delta, we have many fig trees available to forage, at times as easily as blackberries, and there is one particular patch of trees right on the drive to my parents' house, so this week I collected what I figured to be around 10-12 lbs. of figs. Unfortunately, I let them sit for too long, and I lost a few, but I was left with what amounted to about 80 figs, or ultimately, 3 1/2 pints of preserves.
So I started boiling. And boiling. And boiling. Did I mention we started after 10 pm? Yeah... Around 11:15, I decided they were ready for their bath, so I checked the directions... 45 minutes, you say? Huh.
Just after midnight, I pulled the jars from the bath, and promptly went to bed. Lying in bed, the last sound I caught was the last pop! What a great sound to drift off to sleep in one's mind.
So here, at last, my first real attempt at canning. If you are one of the few to 'get' to try one of these, enjoy! And good luck.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Thoughts on raising a prey species
© 2009, Joshua Stark
My ducks represent the first time I've ever tried to raise anything other than a cat or dog, and the biggest difference I've noticed is the predator-prey relationship concept, and more specifically, I am learning what the world looks like through the eyes of prey.
When I step outside, for example, and my dog comes up to greet me, she walks straight at me, or at a slight angle, looking at me and wagging her tail. The ducks look at me sideways, and if I move straight towards them, they cock their bodies away from me, while keeping an eye glued to me.
In the yard, they always keep watch. Irma does, too, but more in a manner befitting a creature who knows its territory and wants to know who else is here. The ducks are keeping guard to prepare to flee from something trying to eat them.
Last night, I accidentally shined a flashlight into their pen. Don't do that. You'd have thought I threw a live - and angry - wildcat in there: much flapping and flinging into the wire, and very 'every duck for yourself!'
And as a prey-owner, I now start looking at things in a different light, too. Those rats that thwarted my trap? They may steal from my ducks, or hurt them. They are no longer a mere nuisance. And opossums and raccoons are downright threats to life and limb.
But yesterday took the cake.
Out in the morning, my eyes wildly scanning the walnut tree for signs of squirrels or starlings, I saw what I first thought to be my resident Nuttall's woodpecker, with its familiar stripes... he sure is bobbing funny, and kinda hanging in the air... I followed his 'back' up, and found he wasn't a woodpecker, but the tail of a hawk! I peered around the other side of the trunk, and there she sat, in the upper third of the canopy, watching my ducks like a... well, a hawk. She was also watching the squirrels, and I pushed them up into the tree a bit more by flinging some walnuts they'd dropped. Before I could get my camera, she flew off.
I have never seen a hawk like that. By this, I don't mean the species (it was probably a juvenile red-shouldered hawk), I mean the perspective.
Now, when Irma barks, I go look, I don't just yell out the window. When the scrub jays chatter, I hear the urgency in their voices when they are concerned, and I peer through the canopy, too. I see with different eyes. I hear with different ears.
My ducks represent the first time I've ever tried to raise anything other than a cat or dog, and the biggest difference I've noticed is the predator-prey relationship concept, and more specifically, I am learning what the world looks like through the eyes of prey.
When I step outside, for example, and my dog comes up to greet me, she walks straight at me, or at a slight angle, looking at me and wagging her tail. The ducks look at me sideways, and if I move straight towards them, they cock their bodies away from me, while keeping an eye glued to me.
In the yard, they always keep watch. Irma does, too, but more in a manner befitting a creature who knows its territory and wants to know who else is here. The ducks are keeping guard to prepare to flee from something trying to eat them.
Last night, I accidentally shined a flashlight into their pen. Don't do that. You'd have thought I threw a live - and angry - wildcat in there: much flapping and flinging into the wire, and very 'every duck for yourself!'
And as a prey-owner, I now start looking at things in a different light, too. Those rats that thwarted my trap? They may steal from my ducks, or hurt them. They are no longer a mere nuisance. And opossums and raccoons are downright threats to life and limb.
But yesterday took the cake.
Out in the morning, my eyes wildly scanning the walnut tree for signs of squirrels or starlings, I saw what I first thought to be my resident Nuttall's woodpecker, with its familiar stripes... he sure is bobbing funny, and kinda hanging in the air... I followed his 'back' up, and found he wasn't a woodpecker, but the tail of a hawk! I peered around the other side of the trunk, and there she sat, in the upper third of the canopy, watching my ducks like a... well, a hawk. She was also watching the squirrels, and I pushed them up into the tree a bit more by flinging some walnuts they'd dropped. Before I could get my camera, she flew off.
I have never seen a hawk like that. By this, I don't mean the species (it was probably a juvenile red-shouldered hawk), I mean the perspective.
Now, when Irma barks, I go look, I don't just yell out the window. When the scrub jays chatter, I hear the urgency in their voices when they are concerned, and I peer through the canopy, too. I see with different eyes. I hear with different ears.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
© 2009, Joshua Stark
This is a great device.
flx1247rg
This pump saved me at least a hundred bucks. Let me explain:
In my time raising three little ducks, I decided that they needed some sort of pool or pond to play in, and as luck would have it, a local Rite-Aid store had those hard-plastic blue kiddie pools on sale for $10. My idea was to occasionally pump out the duck water into our garden, thereby reaping at least some benefit from the terrible devastation the little bast... the little duckies had wrought on my cabbage patch. As I was to learn very quickly, my boss (who raises fowl) told me these valuable words: Ducks abhor clean water.
That is not true from the ducks' perspective, mind you. Ducks LOVE clean water. They take mouthfuls of dirt and mud, and joyfully spit them into the water. They also splash about and dive, and sleep, and poop, poop, poop in it. I quickly realized that I'd be needing to either buy something that would eat duck poop (about 200 catfish came to mind), or be replacing that water more frequently than I'd planned. I started looking for a big pump, something that could move water pretty quickly and about 40 feet to the garden, and with a filter that could handle that much debris without requiring cleaning every day. No luck, unless I was willing to sell an organ to cover costs.
Enter OSH. For those of you outside of the West Coast, Orchard Supply Hardware is a chain store ala the big box stores, but without the size, and with expertise unmatched outside the local hardware stores. I have almost never been disappointed with OSH or its folks, unlike some other places I could mention. They know their stuff. So I enjoy poking around the store whenever I get a chance, moving up and down aisles (oh! nice smoker... man, look at that pressure canner... I wish I could get that table saw...). I was looking at some pumps with trepidation, because the pond pumps I'd seen had given me sticker shock, but then I saw this box. I about squealed like a little girl. I took it home, plugged it in, and now, every morning or two, my garden gets flooded with what my brother-in-law calls the, "nutrient-rich water" of our duck pool. Over time, as I build my raised beds, I will incorporate this nifty little device into my plans. What a find!
Oh, I almost forgot. It was twenty bucks.
This is a great device.flx1247rg
This pump saved me at least a hundred bucks. Let me explain:
In my time raising three little ducks, I decided that they needed some sort of pool or pond to play in, and as luck would have it, a local Rite-Aid store had those hard-plastic blue kiddie pools on sale for $10. My idea was to occasionally pump out the duck water into our garden, thereby reaping at least some benefit from the terrible devastation the little bast... the little duckies had wrought on my cabbage patch. As I was to learn very quickly, my boss (who raises fowl) told me these valuable words: Ducks abhor clean water.
That is not true from the ducks' perspective, mind you. Ducks LOVE clean water. They take mouthfuls of dirt and mud, and joyfully spit them into the water. They also splash about and dive, and sleep, and poop, poop, poop in it. I quickly realized that I'd be needing to either buy something that would eat duck poop (about 200 catfish came to mind), or be replacing that water more frequently than I'd planned. I started looking for a big pump, something that could move water pretty quickly and about 40 feet to the garden, and with a filter that could handle that much debris without requiring cleaning every day. No luck, unless I was willing to sell an organ to cover costs.
Enter OSH. For those of you outside of the West Coast, Orchard Supply Hardware is a chain store ala the big box stores, but without the size, and with expertise unmatched outside the local hardware stores. I have almost never been disappointed with OSH or its folks, unlike some other places I could mention. They know their stuff. So I enjoy poking around the store whenever I get a chance, moving up and down aisles (oh! nice smoker... man, look at that pressure canner... I wish I could get that table saw...). I was looking at some pumps with trepidation, because the pond pumps I'd seen had given me sticker shock, but then I saw this box. I about squealed like a little girl. I took it home, plugged it in, and now, every morning or two, my garden gets flooded with what my brother-in-law calls the, "nutrient-rich water" of our duck pool. Over time, as I build my raised beds, I will incorporate this nifty little device into my plans. What a find!
Oh, I almost forgot. It was twenty bucks.
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