Ants Climbing Trees

This is not a strictly gardening blog-I did threaten in the beginning to share recipes with you, using things grown in my urban garden.

Like this amazing and delicious new favorite recipe:

Ants Climbing Trees

Besides the fact that the name is so funny, I had a bag of bean thread vermicelli knocking around the cabinet for ages, and I wanted to use them up. Haven't we all done that? Gone to the Asian store, bought a bunch of weird and exciting and generally cheap things, and then not known how to cook with them?

Enter my friend MR, who for my birthday this year gave me this book: Noodle. Complete with a noodle identification section (you really need it for the noodles from that part of the world), and a cross-referenced list of recipes featuring specific noodles, it's really the go-to guide for this kind of cuisine.

Ants Climbing Trees is from the Sichuan province, known for spicy food-but the beauty of this noodle dish is it's only as spicy as the pepper you put in.

Enter my first ripe Hot Portugal Pepper.

There's always a tingle of anticipation and fear as you put a piece of unknown-strength pepper in your mouth. This one is quite strong, but not unbearable. Probably comparable to a Serrano. Of the pepper seen in the photos, we used 1/6, and could actually have doubled that. It seemed to have lost a bit of its intensity in the stir-fry process.

Here's the recipe, it is a piece of cake, and so inexpensive. Most importantly, it tastes like the best Chinese take-out you've ever had: warm, salty, a little spicy, lots of texture, and immensely satisfying.

Ants Climbing Trees

8 ounces ground pork

2 T light soy sauce (use regular if that's all you've got-I did)

1 T sugar

1 T chile bean sauce

1 tsp. cornstarch

7 ounces bean thread vermicelli

3 T peanut oil (I used olive oil with a splash of sesame)

1/2 bunch green onion, finely chopped. Save a bit of green parts for garnish.

1 small red chile, finely chopped. As mentioned previously, add to taste, or use a sweet pepper.

1/2 cup chicken stock

1 T dark soy sauce

Combine pork, light soy, sugar, chile bean sauce, and cornstarch and let stand for 20 minutes.

Get some water boiling (I used my teakettle, and you'll want 4-6 cups-enough to cover the vermicelli)

After the pork has marinated, cover the vermicelli with the boiling water and let stand 3 or 4 minutes. Drain and set aside.

Heat the oil in a wok or large pan, and stir-fry the green onion and chile for 30 seconds.

Add the pork and stir-fry 3 or 4 minutes.

Add the noodles and mix well.

Add chicken stock and dark soy, bring to a boil and cook a few minutes longer, or until the noodles have absorbed the liquid.

Scatter with green onions and serve.

I dare you not to eat seconds!

Strange summer

In case you needed further evidence of the cool, wet month that just ended:

Found in the front lawn. Seriously, when I spotted it I thought it was someone's softball.

And no, Dad, I didn't eat it. But, why can't there be morels or chanterelles or lobster mushrooms in the lawn?

Well, the obvious smarty-pants reason is that morels favor places where elms are/were, chanterelles favor mature oak, fir, and hemlock, and the lobster mushroom, well, they're really weird-they've actually been infected by a parasitical fungus that causes them to turn that signature lobster color and stop growing gills.

On the optimistic side, two or three elms were removed from my block this year due to Dutch Elm Disease, so there's always a chance that one day I'll wake up to fresh morels. A girl can dream!

A "Real" veggie update

For those of you who appreciate a photo-survey of what's happening in the garden, as opposed to the Gazpacho Salad way of updating you, here goes:

I'll start in the front yard with the cilantro that's already gone to flower. I really don't know how farmers grow bunches of the stuff-all bushy and leafy and smug. Mine invariably takes off one day, never to return to normal cilantro-ness. I've even tried a few different varieties, to no avail. A few friends have had similar problems with their cilantro. Any suggestions, J?

We've got the cutest little patch of red onions in the front:

And a great row of walla walla onions in the back:

(I secretly compare myself to Prince Charles' private gardener, who raises prize-winning onions. Don't worry, Chuck, I've got some catching up to do.)

The tomatoes, especially the San Marzano plants, have really grown, and are bearing lots of green fruits:

See how tiny Lily looks through the tomato jungle?

This is a nearly ripe Green Zebra:

I used to think I disliked these, but then Josh gave me a few plants, and I couldn't say no to him. I planted them and hoped for a miracle. Well, Virginia, there is a yummy Green Zebra! Apparently I had never had one at the height of ripeness, and there is a big big big difference. They're now one of my favorites, and quite prolific for an heirloom. You can't beat them for color and interest, too.

Here are my Cherokee Purples, one of my all-time favorites:

They're really starting to come in now, at the rate of one or two a day. (I know, I know, tragically slow if you want to can, but just right if you want to slice and eat with some sherry vinegar and sea salt)

Here is a prized and much anticipated Thai eggplant:

Which the @^(*@#&@ squirrels have promptly stolen. Every last one of them. They weren't even ripe!

The carrots are still going strong, and the second batch is nearly large enough to harvest.

The lettuces have all bolted, so I'll have to pull and replant them this week.

The peppers are so happy and healthy, and we're on the lookout for a good pickled pepper recipe. Mom? Siri? Anyone? Nothing fancy, no chow-chow, just plain old pickled peppers.

These guys are the Portuguese Hot Pepper, which are supposed to be harvested red:

Let's not forget the strawberries:

They're going through their annual second cycle of flowering and fruiting, and if I can get to them before Lily I'll enjoy every last one.

Julia and Me

This post has two purposes. Scratch that, it has three.

1) To update you on the veggie garden, albeit in a different than usual way

2) To give you a great no-cook recipe

3) To remind you all, even though you should know already, that Julia Child is one of the greatest cooks of all time.

Last month, for my birthday, I received Julia and More Company, a lovely book published in 1979. A vintage book, thank-you-very-much, not a re-printed for the masses because there's a movie out version. In the book, Julia in her always charming and often laugh-out-loud funny way holds your hand while talking you through hosting a dinner party, buffet, luncheon, or picnic. I've taken great pleasure reading this book, marveling at the lobster souffle for lunch and the diagram in the end of the book that explains what dishes are good for what kinds of parties, and why. What an amazing, clever, brilliant woman!

I paged through the book again this Saturday, with the dogs and the pot of Earl Grey, hunting for something to serve with Sunday night cheeseburgers and beer we were to share with our dear friends and their new baby. I was only half-way through the cookbook when it was time to go run errands, and I hadn't found the perfect thing just yet. Then, late Saturday night, I spotted it!

Gazpacho Salad.

Not some Rachel Ray chuck it in a food processor type of salad. That'll do sometimes, I suppose, but it would be so not Julia.

This one requires a bit of knife work, a bit of time, but turned out to be amazing, delicious and totally worth it in the end. I'm already dreaming of the next dinner party so I can unveil the dish to another group of friends.

Even though two solid pages of instruction are a bit overwhelming at first, it is really a simple, essential recipe to use time and again. The best part of all, however, is that nearly everything came from our veggie garden!

Here's the recipe, in short form, but please do pick up this book if you ever see it. You are guaranteed to learn something...

Gazpacho Salad

The basics are: there's several different ingredients which each get a little treatment, and then there's the assembly. Since it's a layered dish, don't fret too much about exact amounts. The worst that can happen is you have fewer layers in the end.

Bread crumbs-make fresh breadcrumbs from any plain white or mild sourdough, using your food processor. You'll need at least 2 cups but could probably go up to 4.

Tomatoes-Small dice a bunch of tomatoes, roughly 6 cups. Mix them in a bowl with a teaspoon of salt and a teaspoon of sherry or red wine vinegar, and then set them in a strainer over a dish. (You may want the juices later) Once they've drained very well, you should have around 3-4 cups of tomato dice.

Peppers-Again, small dice, using whatever you've got around. I used a green bell, a banana pepper (yellow in color), and a banana pepper that had turned red. You should have about 2 cups.

Red Onion-Mince these, and then pour boiling water over them, rest for 15 seconds, rinse, and drain well. This is one of Julia's tricks for taking some of the bite out of an onion that you plan on serving raw. You'll want about 1/2 cup of these. You may now add the red onions to the peppers.

Cucumber-One of the items that did not come from my garden. I had one and a half large ones, which I peeled, seeded, and diced. Next, sprinkle with a teaspoon or so of salt and the same of some red wine vinegar, plus a dash of sugar. Let stand for at least five minutes and then drain well.

Avocado- I used one large avocado, cut it into quarters so I could easily remove the skin, and then diced. I did this last to prevent discoloration. Obviously not from my garden.

Garlic and Herb Vinaigrette-in honor of Julia, I followed her directions to the letter, making my vinaigrette with a mortar and pestle. Don't feel obligated to do this, you can always use a blender. It will taste nearly the same. Take one large clove of garlic, mash it into a paste with some salt, add the zest from half a lemon, a dab of dijon mustard, some fresh herbs of your choice, (I used basil since it's in the garden) the juice from that half a lemon, and olive oil to make a nice creamy vinaigrette. If you like your salad spicy, this is the place to add a drop or two of hot pepper sauce, otherwise stick to salt and pepper.

Julia uses a very pretty straight-sided glass bowl, all the better to see the layers with. I don't have one, so I ended up using highball glasses, creating individual salads. It turned out rather nice that way, I think.

Now, we're ready to assemble:

Place a layer of bread crumbs in the bottom of the dish, no thicker than 1/4 inch.

Arrange on top of that the tomatoes, again about 1/4 inch.

Next, place 1/4 inch cucumbers.

After that, about 1/4 inch pepper/onion mixture.

Next, some of the avocado.

Top with some more bread crumbs, and then spoon a generous amount of vinaigrette over the top, being sure to catch the center and down the sides of the dish.

Repeat the process until you run out of veg, and be sure to end with a thin layer of breadcrumbs with more vinaigrette on top.

I tell you, it's one of the best summer salads I've ever had.

Sigh.

Special thanks to the husband, who took all the photos so I could get the salad done in time for company! More thanks, too, to R.L., who inspired me with an inspired gift.

A Taste

Just a quick post before I get down to the giant veggie update. And perhaps an explanation of where I've been for the past few weeks: friends with new baby, parties at the Canadian Consul General's house, fundraisers for Haiti, a couple of birthday parties, a wedding, making a wedding cake, finishing the Lazyman Triathalon, and a bit of garden fatigue. But I miss posting, and I'm back. It's starting to feel as if summer's over before it began, but such is life.

I've only minutes until I need to leave for work, so here are a few flowers to admire.

In the front herb garden, Lily the sculpture is being overrun by some enthusiastic red petunias:

And the canna lilly bulbs that Ray gave me have become lovely large plants:

In the back, the tree branch trellis, (created from when Josh pruned the crabapple in the side yard) and which I slaved over in June, is now covered in gorgeous Morning Glories:

These Buttercream sunflowers are about 7 foot tall, and the best part is I can see them through my kitchen window:

This little sunflower, the Joker, toughed it out in the wilds of the back fence:

It's the only sunflower that survived the squirrels and my neglect. It's really a bit of a jungle in that area.

Even the sweet little Marigolds that help protect the vegetable garden are breaking their bounds:

Thanks Be!

It's been a day full of unexpected gifts. The kind of day that makes you happy to be a part of the universe.

A dear friend brought me (me!) a 19-year old Cab Sauv from his visit home to Texas, and a dear tomato plant produced a ripe, juicy, gorgeous Cherokee Purple, the first big tomato of the season.

Here they are, together:

The tomato was consumed, immediately.

The wine was stored away, waiting for an occasion worthy of opening it.

"We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures"-Wilder

Break from the Garden: Trip to Stockholm

It was my birthday this weekend, and one of my most anticipated celebrations was the trip to Stockholm for pie. No, not that Stockholm, although, come to think of it, I've spent a birthday there, too.

This particular Stockholm is about 8 miles southeast of Maiden Rock, home of one of the puppies' favorite beaches:

Although, to be honest, this little jaunt was about the pie. Not just any pie, mind you. Stockholm Pie Company Pie. Pie that is actually worth driving an hour and a half for. Pie that is worth an hour at the gym for. Pie that is truly the best pie I have ever had. 

This cute little shop is only a few people wide and has a giant pie cabinet behind the counter:

The shop is owned by Jan, who does all the baking. Jan usually offers up some 2 dozen flavors of pie by the slice, as indicated in her handwriting on the chalkboard. She also sells whole pies, baby pies, and pie cookies (little 4 inch circles of pie dough with a spoonful of filling, another circle of pie dough, and brushed with a bit of sugar and cinnamon before baking):

The husband went for a half-slice of Peanut Butter Fudge, and a half-slice of Blueberry. He declared the Blueberry the best slice he's ever eaten. That's pretty huge if you know my Jon.

Notice by the time I got the camera out the blueberry was nothing but a juicy smear on the plate:

I had a terrible time deciding, but went for a half-slice of Coconut Cream and a half-slice of Blueberry Pear, both excellent:

I am becoming a huge fan of pear with anything...I was given a jar of pear-raspberry jam last year and it topped my Top 5 Jam List.

Since we knew we wouldn't get back to Stockholm for a few months, we also took another slice of Blueberry, a slice of Apple Raspberry Strawberry, and an Apple Pie cookie, to go.

What a great way to spend a birthday weekend!

Kale bonanza

We've got kale on the brain today...lots of it, as a matter of fact:

So much, that we pulled 95% of it out of the garden today, because it grew much faster than anticipated, blocking the French Nickel beans' sunlight and stunting their growth. It's still pretty young in their season, so we're hoping this drastic measure will help us get another bumper crop of haricot vert. They're one of our favorite vegetables, so keep your fingers crossed.

Back to the kale. I selected a Wild Garden Mix from one of my favorite suppliers, Abundant Life Seeds out of Cottage Grove, Oregon.  

One of the great features of growing kale is that it can be sown outdoors as soon as the danger of last frost has passed (about mid May for Minneapolis) and can be repeatedly sown throughout the summer and fall.  A light frost actually improves the flavor, which is why it's one of the crops I like to keep going all year.

Kale is one of my newer loves, as I only really learned to appreciate it within the past five years. Once you've have stir-fried garlicky greens, or steamed kale drizzled with great olive oil and shaved parm, or three-corners filled with chopped kale, feta, dill, and pine nuts, you'll love it too.

This steam-freeze method of preservation will be perfect for using it as an ingredient in some other dish, such as the aforementioned three-corners, or even baked with cheese in a veggie calzone!

Since I had such a large amount that I needed to remove right away but couldn't possibly eat before going bad, the husband and I decided to steam the kale ever so slightly and freeze it. The method is ever so simple: 

Wash kale:

Steam kale:

Spread out on sheet pans to cool more rapidly-this helps keep the color bright:

Freeze it up!

Thanks to my genius friend Farmer Josh, who suggested that my pea plants were probably just done, versus dying of some horrible disease, I can remove the plants and make room for another crop. But of what? 

Houston...

We have a problem.

The peas, I suspect, have succumbed to fusarium wilt. They've got the typical yellowing of leaves from the bottom up:

They've got the stalks that pull, virtually rootless, right out of the ground, brown and a little gooey:

The leaves are fading in color:

It's really sad, too, since the only thing I know of to do is pull out and detroy all the plants. The other disturbing part is that if indeed it's wilt, it's a soil-borne disease.  I'm not sure if it can be eradicated or controlled. Farmer Josh?

We knew eventually the peas would go, but we hoped for a more "natural" cause, i.e. they stopped producing and we pulled them out.

Anybody dealing with this? I should add that we've practiced crop rotation for the past few years, and this is the first year for peas to be in this bed.

Sad, sad day.

Independence Day!

Few of you may know this, but the 4th of July is one of my favorite holidays. I love, love, love it. 

I love the flag bunting on my cute white house, I love making pie with star shaped red white and blue sprinkles.

I love the beer and cheeseburgers (American cheese ONLY, thank you very much) and more than anything I love this crazy, mixed up but ultimately awesome and freedom loving country that I am privileged to be a citizen of. It doesn't hurt that my man made it to the White House, either. It also doesn't hurt that I'm watching the Boston Pops fireworks program, and Ray Charles is singing America the Beautiful. Super Awesome!

Speaking of hard working, I had the luxury of working hard all day today, under slightly cloudy skies, the occasional nice breeze, and with the fine company of my doggies.

I started with planting the box full of spider day lilies that my mother sent me. They should be quite stunning-they have a very tropical look what with their thin, elongated petals and exotic colors. Here's an example:

Proof that there's nothing my Mom can't do, she included in the lily gift box a garlic braid, from her garden and braided with her own two hands:

I've got it hanging in the dining room so it can dry out completely.

Next came the accidental cleaning of my garage gutters. Accidental because I happened to see my neighbor, Louise, and asked her about a ladder, which I needed to do the job. She not only had one, but insisted on holding the ladder. I took an amazing amount of gunk out, and did her garage gutters since I was already dirty.

At that point I realized I had to deliver something to my friends at work before they all left for the day:

I had to take some to my sweet Jared who had to work today-and I thought it would make everyone's day a little brighter. It was coconut cream, which I don't think I've had in a decade. The crust was painted with dark chocolate before filling with the coconut custard, and I think that's the way to go. It was so rich and yummy, I may just have to put it in my repertoire.

Back at the urban garden, it was time to divide and replant the hostas. I also rearranged many of them. Since they've had a few years to grow out, I've had the opportunity to see that some have grown more or less than expected. I've also learned that sometimes the best thing you can do for a garden is to take something out and put it somewhere else. As a result of all this planting, dividing, and rearranging, I believe the back yard fence garden is more lush, dense and attractive.

The tall silver feathery plants in the background are a native prairie sage:

Here's a panorama, from the far east side following the fence to the far west side:

Note the cute little grapes:

This grapevine was on the original chain link fence that came with the house. We had to cut it away to remove the fence, and I had really forgotten about it until this year, when it presented itself with great gusto. We like it, and I think we'll encourage it to grow along the new wood fence. It seems to add a bit of weight and age to this quite new garden.

This is my favorite hosta of them all, and one that I did not divide this year. It's name is Abiquita Drinking Gourd, and if you look closely at this photo you can see why:

The morning glories are finally starting to climb up their tree trellises, as are the hops. I hope that sooner rather than later the trellis will be covered in flowers so the neighbors stop thinking I'm weird.

That's about it for the flower garden in the back yard. Next time, an overview of the veggies, which are doing very well!