August 27, 2016

Hours of cooking, beautiful food, misc

August 27, 2016/ Em-i-lis

I tell you, spending hours picking fruit will surely keep you accountable in terms of not letting it go to waste! It's a race against time when you have fresh produce ripening in real time, and when you go slightly overboard with poundage schlepped home, well, get your cooking hands ready!

I was too slow for about a sixth of my blackberries, but the rest are safely frozen, jammed, or pied, and today I finished the raspberries. Lots of straight-up raspberry jam and also some raspberry-Grand Marnier. I'll be honest, y'all, while Grand Marnier is a heavenly substance, the plain old raspberry jam just can't be beat. I'm glad I made a majority of that.

I'm about half-through the peaches -which are scrumptious by the way- and have so far brandied seven pints and made a gorgeous pie. I'll deal with the rest tomorrow.

Also, tomatoes. Y'all know how I feel about summer's star. It's true love. This evening I made this caramelized tomato tarte tatin with slow-roasted Romas, caramelized onions, and puff pastry. It's like summer thinking of sliding into fall via cast iron pan.

Tonight was a tough'ish night of parenting, and I was glad to have two episodes of The Americans to settle into when finally the boys' bedtime came. It is such a good show- Matthew Rhys and Keri Russel have delicious chemistry, and Frank Langella...Oh how I adore him. What an actor.

Tomorrow I'm taking the boys to see Cirque du Soleil. Have y'all seen one of their performances? I never have and am looking forward to it!

August 24, 2016

Fruit picking 2016, Wondy?

August 24, 2016/ Em-i-lis

Yesterday marked my annual outing to Larriland Farm to pick my body weight in fruit. You might recall my original case for thorns and/or my overzealous death by fruit of previous years. Both memorable and delightful; yesterday was no different.

We brought along our dear neighbor, Jane, and picked peaches, blackberries, beets and raspberries with various degrees of abandon. Last night I froze twenty cups of blackberries and made one pie and four pints of jam (just two ingredients! blackberries and sugar!). Today, I taught Jane how to can and then put up several pints of raspberry jam (just three ingredients! raspberries, sugar, and lemon juice) myself.

picked and quickly frozen blackberries- beautiful!

Tomorrow I plan to finish dealing with the berries and pray that the peaches don't ripen until Friday.

Tonight, as soon as Tom walked in, I retreated to the bath. Where I found this.

Is that Wonder Woman? In a rugby hat? With a mean face? What the heck? #summerstillgoing

August 01, 2015

Death by fruit

August 01, 2015/ Em-i-lis

"Honey, what the...? How much fruit is this?"

"Uh, about 60 pounds," I replied, sheepishly happy.

****

In no real way have I "taken it easy" this week. That was my personal dictate, and I have failed. That said, I've had a ball.

Said ball culminated with a spontaneous pilgrimage to Larriland Farm yesterday. It's a fantastic, sprawling, organic/IPM (integrated pest management) farm in Woodbine, MD, which is about an hour from NW DC.

Each day, Larriland posts what you can pick that day, and yesterday's options just got me too excited to stay home: Shiro plums, peaches, blackberries...

Unlike my maiden voyage last year (which resulted in A Case for Thorns, a post that was so popular I felt like a real blogger!) for which I planned not at all and thus ended up out at Larriland with dirty teeth, a desperate need for the bathroom and gas, and no food, I this year took the time to ready myself: water, snacks, full gas tank, walked and fed pets.

First to the peach fields for a quick-and-easy 22 pounds. The birds chirped, the bugs buzzed, and I had visions of peach jam, peach pie and brandied peaches floating through my head. Cute kids wove through and around the grove, blissed out as I was. Except for that crying baby. Grr, crying baby. I jest. A bit.

People- seriously(!) on the iPhone camera. Impressive. #nofilter

"Girl, you are rocking this trip!" I told myself as I paid for the peaches and headed to the plum orchard.

Once amidst the plum trees, I felt a sting of disappointment: where are they? But then I remembered that not looking up and under is a rookie mistake, and so I did. Shiros everywhere!

That yellow-flesh varietal is one of my favorite for jam-making. So, as you probably suspect, I picked and picked and picked and then threw in some little purple ones too: Methleys (not my favorite) or Rosas? Not sure but lovely.

Back to the cashier. New box. On to blackberries and to beat my sixteen-pound pick of last year. Why beat 16 pounds? Well, because Jack's very favorite jam is blackberry and what I made from the non-eaten berries from 2014 didn't last us past this January. This year? 21 pounds.

I fully intended to go home after blackberries, but the cashier said that raspberry picking was actually pretty good and since I was all the way out in Woodbine, I decided to forge ahead because y'all, I am not lying, little is more magnificent than homemade raspberry jam.

Quick handful of almonds, bunch of water, burst of AC and to the raspberry patch. At this point, many hours in, I was really starting to tire. It was hot, not a cloud in the sky. Gorgeous day but now 1:45, I thought, "Girl, almonds aren't lunch but raspberry jam." Easy calculus and so I fetched another box.

Raspberry plants are thorny, dense and underwhelming from an aesthetic perspective. But the "up and under" mantra will repay you in spades, so I jumped right in. Bees and other beneficial bugs were everywhere but I just said, "Thanks, bugs" and we respected each other's personal space.

That's the great thing about being in nature when no one has tried to kill anything. You see what a beautiful balance is struck when Earth is left to her own devices. You realize that we needn't fear buzzing, flying, leggy things. Spending time outside is one of the greatest educations, in my opinion; one of the greatest ways to inspire a deep wonder and appreciation for our world. Get out there, get dirty, pay close attention, sweat, give thanks.

Lucky me, both red and black raspberries were there for the taking, and take I did. Just about four pounds but enough for 6 pints of jam or so. (I know because I made some at 9pm last night out of wild-eyed fear that my beautiful, delicate bounty would go bad).

****

Once home, I quickly moved everything inside, ran to pick the boys up from camp, told them they could be as lazy as they wanted to until bedtime, let them eat as many blackberries as they wanted and got to work making jam and a pie and dinner for everyone.