Stormy weather

Overheard:

“We’ve had a lot more severe weather than usual.”

“These storms have people in my neighborhood talking.”

“I’m planning on getting more self sufficient, little by little, until we’re off grid completely.”

“Every time we get one of these lengthy power outages, I want to put up more food and prepare for the worst.”

“Climate change? What climate change? It’s just environmental jihad.”

With the exception of the last one, all of these people were noticing climate change.  None are my own quotes, no matter how much they sound like me. Most were my coworkers, in fact. We’ve all noticed the changing climate, and we’ve also noticed how the major events are changing people.

None of us are survivalists, radicals, preppers, or the so-called Environmental Jihad. Ahem, maybe we do resemble the last one. But seriously, peoples. One teacher talked about her neighborhood having a block party, the first in years – maybe the first ever. During the August storm, neighbors talked to neighbors and realized they didn’t spend enough time socializing with those who lived nearby. Her neighborhood decided to do something about it.

I, too, was reminded how much I like my neighbors. Despite the huge tree leaning on their house, they were turning on their camp stove and calling me over for coffee. I don’t think we’re up for a block party yet, though. Feelings still run high about the Lorax and her influence on the Powers That Be.

So while we’re on the subject, folks, take a look at the book Life As We Knew It. Apocalyptic rather than dystopian, it did put me in the survivalist frame of mind. How would we cope if suddenly the world changed?

On a positive note, I’ve been busy bartering. Yep, good old fashioned barter. I swapped dill seed for zucchini (yeah, yeah, I know she would have given away the zucchini no matter what) and in a similar vein, I swapped a handful of rhubarb for a bucket of pears.

Maybe you’re reading this ramble and asking, Daisy, what’s your point? I’ll toss it back to you: what changes have you made in your life and what changes have you noticed in others? If you wrote the “overheard” section at the top of the page, what have you overheard about climate change? And finally, how would you react?

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Locavore Menus

I was searching for an appropriate encore post, and instead I found one paragraph that struck a chord with me.

Part of the locavore menu involves eating what’s ripe and in season. By the time it’s our of season, we’ll be tired of it and ready to move on to something else. About the time my family rebels and shouts out “No More Rhubarb, Mom!” strawberries will be coming into their prime. Then I can mix strawberry-rhubarb pie, strawberry-rhubarb crisp, strawberry-rhubarb dump cake — bwahahahaha! Just kidding, family. I’ll be more creative than that. Maybe.

That was a spring post from May 2011.

More recently, the family has complained about some of my overuse – well, they’ve warned me not to go there. I stocked up on squash at the last farmers’ market. 6 squash for $5! How could I go wrong? Oh. Wait. Never ask a question unless I really want to know the answer, right? I learned that years ago while substitute teaching.

The family, a.k.a. Da Boyz, a.k.a. Chuck and Amigo, cautioned me not to feed them squash every day – like I’d served too much asparagus last June. 

Oops. I guess I’d better turn to the freezer and the hot water bath canner instead of feeding them the same in-season vegetables over and over.

Oh, dear, and I just planted an asparagus bed. It’ll be ready to harvest in a couple of years, and then we’ll have lots of asparagus. Lots.

Honey, maybe we need a new freezer. Honey?

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To Book It or Not To Book It?

I can’t help it. I’ve been skeptical ever since I heard Alfie Kohn, author of Punished by Rewards, say that the main result of Pizza Hut’s Book It program is a bunch of fat kids who don’t like to read.

Intrinsic or extrinsic motivation? It’s true that reading more builds reading skills and stamina, which in turn improves reading ability. But does the pizza reward for reading really encourage reading for its own sake? I doubt it. I sincerely doubt it.

But today I investigated their expanded website to see what I can offer my students’ parents (a.k.a. learning coaches). There is a lot of wisdom, and a lot of it is in vocabulary many parents can understand.

So… how do I share this with “my” families? That is, how do I share this resource with those parents with whom I teach?  If I’m honest with myself (which isn’t always the best policy, really), I’m actually asking this: How do I share this resource with families without giving in to marketing and handing out little pizza certificates? 

Sigh. It’s such a complicated world.

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Eating the Opponent Once Again

Go! Pack! Go!

Last week we served Crab Louis salad in honor of Fishermen’s Wharf. Chuck also did his best to replicate a fancy flounder dish and found that flounder is simply not widely available in Wisconsin in the fall.

The Packers lost to San Francisco.

We had a wild week in between games with little time for research into foods of Washington, D.C., home of the team called the Redskins. We joked about serving pork. We suggested turkey. We attempted a play on words for fiscal cliff or gridlock. Finally, I did a search or two on my smart phone as we drove to visit La Petite in Lake Geneva.

We found the half-smoke. The half-smoke is a sausage served on a bun, covered in barbecue sauce, sometimes half pork and half beef and sometimes sliced in half lengthwise before cooking. It’s as close as D.C. comes to having its own indigenous food.

A stopover in East Troy took care of everything. We picked up a turkey pot pie at The Elegant Farmer and planned to cook it for Sunday lunch. A few miles down the road we bought our own travel lunch from a BBQ truck and found already cooked and seasoned sausages that looked perfect for our version of the Half-Smoke. A pot pie, a pound of sausage, a bag of ice, and our cooler, and we were in business.

We made it home from Lake Geneva Saturday night just in time to cook the half-smokes and listen to Prairie Home Companion on public radio. Sunday lunch, the turkey pot pie, was delicious. Bonus: it left several leftover pieces for lunches later this week.

But the best bonus: Green Bay beat Washington, 38-20.

Cincinnati, bring it on. We’ll be ready. We’ll serve – so, readers, what kind of foods do Cincinnati residents call their own? Help me out with suggestions, please. We Cheeseheads are hungry for another Super Bowl.

 

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Ducks and Fish

Chuck said he was glad he didn’t catch a duck. I thought, What? You went fishing, dear darling husband. Fishing with Amigo.

It seems a small family of rather assertive ducks chased after his line and stole the worm right off the hook.

Hungry Ducks

Hungry Ducks

They decided to move to a new location. There was a rails to trails bridge nearby, a space that had been railroad right of way until recently. Now it’s part of the Ahnapee Trail and will eventually connect with the Ice Age Trail. For now, it’s a good place for fishing.

Amigo fishing

Amigo fishing

Amigo wasn’t the first to find this bridge and decide it was the perfect place for fishing. A quick search found historical record of the same bridge more than 100 years ago.

Old Postcard

Old Postcard

The rest of the story is this: they brought home perch for supper.

They walked in and I asked if they’d already cleaned the perch, since I honestly don’t know how to clean a freshly caught fish for cooking. Amigo stated firmly, “The perch is already cleaned. It’s cleaned, Mom. Don’t worry.” Something in his voice clued me in, though, told me there was more. “Um, did you catch the perch or buy it?”

Darn, I wish the fishmonger’d had duck, too.

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Almost an Encore: September

It’s September at the O.K. Chorale. How can you tell? Here are the signs.

10. School has started – for Daisy, at least.
9. Trees are falling.  I mean leaves are falling – a few, anyway.
8. The crock pot has a semi-permanent home in the kitchen again.
7. The lunch boxes are getting regular use.
6. There’s fresh zucchini something, almost always, in the kitchen.
5. We’re eating the opponent again! Check the GB Packers schedule, find a food from the opposing team’s locale, and make it on Friday or Saturday night.
4. I wear a jacket to walk to school in the morning and carry it home.
3. It’s hard to decide between hot coffee and a blended latte over ice.
2. The green and gold spirit clothes are at the front of the closet.
1. People are locking their car doors at church so they don’t find the backseats full of zucchini when they come out!!
 This is a post from September 2011. Not much has changed in the neighborhood! Yesterday was a beautiful fall day. I didn’t walk to work, but I walked to the smoothie shop for lunch and picked up a Get up and Goji smoothie. It hit the spot. 
Credit to Garrison Keillor for suggesting #1. He’s such a funny storyteller because his anecdotes have a strong basis in read life!

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Dilly Dilly

The key ingredient in my garden today is dill. The dill stalks are taller than almost everything. The dill seeds are drying on the vine. The dill weed pieces are drying, too, but not quite as fast as the seed.

Dill seeds on the vine, sort of

Dill seeds on the vine

I thought it would be easy. Strip the seeds from the blossom, throw the remains in the compost, store the seeds in a jar for winter cooking.

About a third of the seeds were still slightly green. Digging out the dry ones with a tweezers was not a high priority, so I left the bowl outside to dry in the sun.

Dill, in full color

Dill, in full color

Then Mother Nature sent rain.

Wet dill. Wet, wet, wet.

Wet dill. Wet, wet, wet.

With a deep sigh, I drained off the water and set the seeds on a towel to dry – again.

The dill weed, the feathery branches of the plant, went into the oven at a low temperature. The dehydrated, dried results ended up in a jar and ready for using in all kinds of salads and rubs when the weather gets cool.

Recipe ideas are welcome.

 

 

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Encore; an open letter to the healthy recipe master, Zorba

Originally posted in September of 2009, this post showed my reaction to what could have been a great recipe, but was only good. I have an abundance of corn right now, and I even have dill, the one ingredient I skipped last time.

An open letter to Zorba Paster of Public Radio fame:

Dear Dr. Paster (May I call you Zorba?); I enjoy your heart-healthy recipes. I find most of them delicious and practical. I often print out the good ones on Saturday morning as I’m making my list for the Farmers’ Market. When I heard Summer Vegetable-Corn Chowder, my reaction was “MMmmmm! Must make this!”

But Zorba, there were a few weak spots in this one. I present it here to share with my readers, complete with my own Daisy-style commentary.

2 potatoes, peeled and diced (What kind of potato? Russet? Red? Yukon gold? Blue?)
1/4 cup leeks, sliced thinly (I’ve never cooked with leeks before. This will be fun.)
1/4 cup red onion, diced
1/4 cup celery (feed the leftovers to the rabbits, of course)
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 Tablespoon margarine
2 cups low-sodium broth (my homemade broth is low sodium, but somewhat higher in fat)
2 Tablespoons cornstarch
4 cups skim milk
2 16 oz. cans Corn (Cans? Zorba, it’s harvest season! Get fresh corn! Cans? No way.)
1 cup evaporated skim milk
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon hot pepper sauce
1/4 cup parsley, minced (this came from the garden, and the bunnies got the leftovers)
1 Tablespoon Dill Weed (garden produce, too)

But wait – before we even start. Dr. Zorba, this recipe aired in late August. Really. Think about it. What do gardeners and farmers’ markets have in abundance in late August? Zucchini!! Where’s the zucchini in this recipe? And how about herbs? They’re all over, fresh as can be. 
I added 1/2 cup grated zucchini and at least a Tablespoon each of thyme and oregano and rosemary. The house (and my hands while cooking) smelled wonderful.

Back to business. In a large soup pot over medium heat, add chicken broth, potatoes, leek, onion, and celery. Add in margarine and garlic. Cover and simmer 25 minutes, stirring frequently.
In a saucepan, dissolve cornstarch in cold skim milk. Whisk over medium high heat until thickened, and then whisk into soup pot. Add corn (cans? Hmph, I used fresh corn), evaporated skim milk, salt, and hot pepper sauce to pot. Simmer uncovered for 15 minutes. Stir occasionally to thicken the chowder. Don’t allow to boil! Serve warm in bowls, topped with parsley and dill.

I had fairly good luck with this recipe. I wish I had cut it in half. It says “serves 6” and they mean it. I was feeding three, and I could have halved the recipe and still haved, er, had plenty. 
It wasn’t thick enough for my taste – I like my chowders thick and creamy – but I think that was my fault. I was feeling impatient and hungry and the teenager was too, so I rushed the cornstarch and milk step. Had I given it more time, the chowder might have been thicker. As it was, the soup was still delicious and the house smelled heavenly. 

Really, Zorba, I like going to your web site and finding full nutritional details for the recipe along with many other heart healthy selections. Right now I’m searching for recipes with fresh vegetables, and this one fit the bill.

But really. Canned corn? Bleh.

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Peaches and muffins

Part of following a locavore philosophy is eating what’s in season when it’s in season. This morning we had peach muffins made with peaches from the farmers’ market.

Muffins!

Muffins!

Later today we’ll Eat The Opponent with San Francisco style sourdough bread and more.

Made from my own starter, too

Made from my own starter, too

Go! Pack! Go!

 

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Encore: Mom, Where does Zucchini come from?

Originally posted in 2009. This year I didn’t plant zucchini, and I still have plenty. My coworker brought in a grocery bag full from her over-producing vines. I took two, and she offered more. Here’s the story of the Origins of Zucchinis.

Once upon a time, a very long time ago, about last May, there was a patch of dirt behind the garage. Mom dug in the dirt and called it Soil and planted many, many seeds. Then she watered, pulled out weeds, watered, pulled out weeds, and watched with pride as the many shades of green stems and leaves emerged from the ground. The stems and leaves and vines grew and grew until a forest grew all around and it became the place where the wild things are. Wait, that’s another story.

It was eventful along the way in that little patch of vegetables. A wood chuck paid a surprise visit.  A rabbit squeezed inside through a small opening. Mom fixed the fence and hung old computer CDs to help scare away the critters, hoping all along that the bees would still come by to pollinate the squash blossoms. Pollinators, rumor has it, are not afraid of Windows 3.1.

What’s a squash blossom? Well, honey, it’s this flower: the one that magically changes into a baby zucchini if the birds and the bees stop by at the right time. Ahem. Let’s stop right there. There’s a fiddle tune called Squash Blossom Reel, I think. Let’s look for it tomorrow on YouTube.

Well, little one, after the big orange blossom fades and falls off, the pretty green squash will grow and grow until it’s so long that Dad calls it a baseball bat and Mom takes ahold of it and twists it gently until it comes off the vine. Then she’ll bring it in the house, clean it up, dice it up, and add it to supper. And lunch. And make it into bread. And grate enough to fill the freezer.
Maybe the question shouldn’t be where does it come from, but where will it go? It’ll go in the zucchini bread, in the salads, in the stews, in the freezer, and it’ll end up in…. No, forget I said that, honey, and just go to sleep. Once upon a time, there was a little one who asked Mommy all about zucchini….

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