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!

Farmer's Market Exchange

Many weeks ago, my favorite Norwegian proposed a simple idea on her outstanding blog (note the NEW location): 

A Farmer's Market Exchange

All we participants had to do was visit our local farmer's market, pick up some locally produced items that travel well, and send them off into the world. Siri paired everyone up, and I was lucky enough to draw Greg Henry (author of yet another great blog, Sippity Sup) who lives in Los Angeles. I received a giant padded envelope a week or two ago, and my, what treasures it contained!

My envelope of yum had dried pear halves (those lasted a day and a half-you're right Greg, they're addicting), California green olives, an adorable recipe card for a fruit and tomato and herb salad, and these:

These are not highly polished rocks from the foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains. 

These are treasures-baby potatoes of purple, gold, blue, and red. See the quarter over there in front of the purple guy on the right? That's how small they are-twice a quarter. And the taste! The husband and I knew, the moment that I opened this package, how we were going to cook them.

Steam! Steam, you say? A bit boring? Au contraire! When you have something as precious from the earth as this, it's essential to get out of the way-let the food be the food, if you will...

We fired up the trusty Chinatown bamboo steamer and steamed them until they were perfect (which means, when you spear one with a long, thin, knife, the potato slides right off), gently broke them open with a fork (all the better to admire their colors), drizzled them with some of our prized, brought-home-in-Mom-and-Dad's-luggage Greek olive oil, sprinkled a little salt, and did our best to eat them as slowly as possible to savor every last delicious potato bite.

Thanks, Greg!

Some of you may be wondering what star examples of Minnesota cuisine I sent to L.A?

I sent a bag of whole wheat graham crackers from Very Prairie, made in Minnesota, of course, and with local flours. I also sent a jar of pepper jelly from the amazing Lucille's Kitchen Garden and a jar of homemade blueberry syrup, picked by yours truly at Northwoods Organic Produce in Pequot Lakes, Minnesota.

Happy exchanging!