Pickled Peppers

We have one serrano pepper plant, that has given us countless fruits (hundreds by now), and it is still going strong.



What to do with all these peppers? After making salsa, and including them in some dishes (they are really rather spicy raw!), given some to neighbors, we decided to preserve and pickle them. The thought of pickled peppers led us all to start reciting the nursery rhyme: Peter Piper picked and peck of pickled peppers... The verse and whatever was supposed to come after that, did help us get excited about pickling, and the peppers. It made us want to taste our own pickled peppers, eventually!



Michael Ruhlman has an easy pickled pepper recipe that we followed (minus one or two ingredients that we didn't have at hand).



It took all of 10 minutes to go through the process from start to finish... Almost not exciting enough to blog about.



Perhaps the end result will be worth a revisit to these pickled peppers. At the moment they are happily sitting in the refrigerator all snuggled and cold. Now we need to think about what to do with all the fruits still left, and growing, on that one serrano pepper plant! Any ideas?

Making Sauerkraut

Between farmers markets and CSA shares, we recently ended up with three heads of cabbage in the kitchen. Cabbage is one of those cruciferous vegetables that is rather versatile, but you've got to plan a bit ahead of time (since most cabbages are rather large heads of tightly folded leaves). A commitment of sort, actually.



I find cabbages quite beautiful to look at and I am always amazed that one tiny seed can become a work of art with patterns and spirals and different shades of green and purple. The best thing about it is that after admiring it, and photographing it, one can eat and benefit from its multitude of nutrients! My kind of vegetable!



We had been dreaming about making our own sauerkraut for a while now, since our exposure to some amazing homemade sauerkraut back at our old farmers market in California. We asked what went into their classic plain kraut and were impressed that the answer was: cabbage and salt.



We went ahead, with a bit of guideline from here, and chopped up our three heads of cabbage. A little sea salt and resting time later, we packaged our first ever sauerkraut jars. They are now living (and growing probiotics) in our basement. Results are to be determined and tested in a couple of weeks. Now... if we can do this, kimchi can't be too far fetched!

Eggplant Inspired

I was on my way out of the farmers market this morning. My hands were full with an overflowing basket in one, and a full bag of Snowville Cream and Whole Milk in the other.



I walked by the stand with all of these eggplants just as I was approaching my vehicle. As if I was star-struck, I stopped, put my belongings onto the ground, and swung my camera to the front.



We have no plans of cooking dinner at home tonight. And yet I was compelled to bring some of these beautiful eggplants of different varieties home. They are too pretty to pass up. Or so said my impulsive-self.



On my way home, my mind started working on the possibilities. Babaganouj? Eggplant parmesan? Roasted eggplant salad? Oh, who knows? And really, who cares? They are home now, and they will become something scrumptious...as soon as we decide on that their fate will be.

Homemade Black Raspberry Sorbet

Remember these black jewels we picked in Michigan last week? Well, we had wanted to turn them into something cold and delicious, but did not have enough time while we were up there. So, we took them home, one state south, and yesterday was the day for sorbet-making.



One of the reasons that I married my husband is that if we were given a choice, we tend to go with the old-fashioned way for most things. Almost always. One day when I came home from running errands without the rest of the family, they all had giddiness about them. All three of them. Should we tell Mommy what we got? He said to the kids... We had just gotten the chooks, and the coop to go with them. We also acquired a wheel barrow for our little backyard farm. I was hoping that they had not set up a composting toilet without a little bit of consultation.



We got an ice cream maker!! Yelled the kids. The old-fashioned kind!! They added. Oh phew. I can live with that, I thought.

When it arrived, my husband might have as well been a kid on Christmas day. The three of them attempted at the most basic of all: vanilla ice cream. We had Snowville cream and milk on hand, and so, they cranked and cranked. And 30 minutes later, we tasted the labor of love. It was not half bad.

In fact, it was good. It was not quite Jeni's - good...yet. But it was better than store-bought for sure. They went on to making more flavors...and this last, hand-picked wild black raspberry sorbet. I think it's the best one yet!

This is the recipe they used, from our trusted magazine friend Saveur.

Market Mushrooms

I love mushrooms. Too bad the rest of the family does not share this sentiment. But in some ways, more mushrooms for me!

The Clintonville Farmers Market (one of the best around here!) has a vendor who has an urban farm right there in Clintonville. And he grows these beautiful Shitake mushrooms... Oh, I think he already has a new loyal patron!

If you like mushrooms, too, I am sure you know that fresh mushrooms don't need a lot of fuss. The simpler, the better.



Today in the garden, we pulled up (to 'check') on our garlic patch growing underground since last fall. Knowing that we aren't supposed to harvest these until this fall, we felt a little guilty, but up came one small head of garlic anyway (mother and son has the same amount of patience...the former perhaps having less of it).



But we put it to good use. I diced up the fresh garlic, sauteed the mushrooms in it with some good olive oil. A sprinkle of sea salt and herbes de Provence and some chopped up parsley ended the dish. Voila, the most earthy, delicious mushrooms you will have in central Ohio!

Sushi, at home

It's no secret that our family likes Japanese food. I grew up eating Japanese food at least once a week. It was a tradition of sort, a Sunday dinner with my father after we picked him up from his office (the one time a week that we saw him, it felt like. Busy man that he was...busy man that he still is).

There was a restaurant near by that we would stop for dinner before heading home called Hakata. I still remember its open room, the tatami area where our family tended to sit, the warm white towels offered to us when we first sat down. It's a comforting, almost nostalgic experience for me, eating Japanese food. 



Here in Columbus, we have frequented a few Japanese restaurants, near and far. The kids eat the food with zeal, and we all leave happily full, every time (except for the times when one of us ate just one too many rolls!).

Earlier in the day, we had planned on going to a different Japanese restaurant – one recommended by a Japanese living in Northwest Columbus. We had a hearty breakfast at home, a light lunch at home, and for dinner, I was going to put my feet up and rely on the restaurant to feed (and clean for) us.



Late afternoon came, the kids played outdoors amidst high winds, and torrential rain. They came in for a warm bath; and re-emerged in...pajamas. Wait! I said. We are going out for dinner!

Oh NO, Mommy. We are eating at home! They both protested.


But...we were going to go out for Japanese, remember? Sushi? Unagi? Miso? I tried to stand firm. Those clean dishes didn't need to come out again...until tomorrow.


You can make all of that stuff, Mommy! We don't need to go anywhere! They both looked at me with puppy eyes.

Alright. Yes, I can do it. Where's the sushi roller?



Sushi Rice

Make your sushi rice as normal (we use our handy rice cooker), make about 2 cups of rice.

In a bowl or pot, combine 2 Tablespoons of Rice Vinegar, 2 Tablespoons granulated sugar, and 1 Tablespoon of salt. Heat this on the stove or in the microwave until all dissolved.

Once the rice is done, add the vinegar mixture to the rice. Mix well.

To make the sushi rolls

You will need Nori sheets (seaweed sheets for making sushi rolls), a sushi bamboo roller, and anything that you like to go inside your sushi rolls. We like avocado, cucumber, pickles, mango, roasted eel, crab sticks...

Put the nori on your sushi bamboo roller. Add a thin layer of rice (like first snow falling onto the ground) all over the nori. Put your contents in a straight line on the edge  closest to you (not too much, less is more here). Now, carefully roll the bamboo roller together with the nori, and keep rolling, keeping the contents inside using a firm grip. Roll until you get to the end of the nori, and give it a good squeeze.

Wet a sharp knife under cold water, and cut the roll into bite size pieces.

Serve immediately with a little soy sauce on the side. Wasabi and pickled ginger also welcome.

Playing with fire

I once spent some weeks in the north of India, in the foothills of the Himalayas.

My host family belonged to the warrior caste, in the multi-caste system dated back many centuries in that part of the world. This is to say that they were considered a middle class family. They were relatively wealthy, as far as Indians go.

The host parents gave up their bedroom for me, the largest room in their house on a hill over looking a gorge. The bed was a mattress on a hard wooden platform. They would serve me Indian tea (with lots of milk and sugar thanks to the Colonial Brits) the first thing I woke up in the morning.

My host mother would have already spent several hours up and about, milking their only cow, making butter and ghee (Indian clarified butter), doing laundry – the old fashioned way. I can't remember how I communicated with her since she didn't speak a word of English. My only translator was her oldest daughter who was in school most of the day, but when at home, she would help around the house, or I would find her knitting socks for the upcoming winter.



The most vivid memory I have from my time spent with this family was, of course, in their kitchen. It was the warmest room in the house, with the most basic essentials. This is to say, there was not a dining table, or chairs, or elaborate cookware.

The host mother was often at a granite counter, chopping vegetables, making Indian delicacies, or making chapatis. We, the eaters, would wait on the cement floor. My host sister was in charge of stoking the small fire pit around which we sat.

What I remember is that what I ate there was far better than any Indian food I had before stepping foot into India. The vegetables were freshly collected from their vegetable plot down the slope in front of their house, and the chapatis were always made fresh. I can still hear the sounds of the flat dough tapping back and forth between my host mother's flat hands. Tap Tap Tap. And then she would put it on direct flame to cook and char it before giving it to one of us.



Those Tap Tap Tap sounds were heard again this weekend, thousands of miles from that small, warm, cozy Indian kitchen. The hands tapping the dough were much smaller, and much less experienced. I recounted my India stories to my family as we prepared some Indian dishes for dinner, probably only half as good as the ones I had in its mother land.

We even made ghee, from our own homemade butter, and Aloo Saag (with frozen spinach). Our ambitious endeavor was well rewarded not only in our tummies. My faded memory is now that much clearer, thanks to the opportunity to relive a fraction of my experience through these foods.

Funny how that works, isn't it?

Pumpkin Seeds

So, is everybody roasting pumpkin seeds right now?

The great thing about having young children is that their enthusiasm about something that happens every year seems to still excite them. In fact, it seems that even if it's something that happened last week, they would be excited about doing again.


Take pumpkin picking. Or pumpkin carving.


And what to do with all the pumpkin seeds left over from all these activities? Besides saving some for next year's planting, we roasted them with a little olive oil, salt and pepper. The fragrant of roasted pumpkin seeds uncannily resembles popcorn. Be sure to stay right by the oven as they seem to roast quickly.


I hope your home is filled with as many pumpkin seeds as ours.

Cherry Tomato Jam

We are expecting some frost tonight...our first one, I believe. And yet, we still have so many cherry tomatoes that are trying to make it just one more day!

Our dear Claire was inspired in the garden yesterday. She wanted to can tomatoes... which we have done a lot of this season already, and there is not enough to can anymore. But those cherry tomatoes! Something must be done with them before they go to waste.

Tomato Jam. It just popped into my head just like that. Not that I had made it before... but why not? Can't be too hard right?

The little chef got it all together: the harvesting, the cleaning, the chopping, the stirring. I was just the sous-chef. The result: brilliant. It went very well with the Alaskan Cod I made (and did not plan to have tomato Jam on the side). It was just meant to be.

Claire's Cherry Tomato Jam

Two cups of ripe cherry tomatoes

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground cumin

a pinch of salt

Wash and slice cherry tomatoes into halves. Combine all ingredients and let simmer for about 15 minutes. Let cool, and serve!

The Noriega Hotel, Memorial Day Part II

Dining room before we were seated.

A Basque gentleman

The bar at the Noriega Hotel

Talk about doing something completely new.

Bakersfield, for some reason, has a big Basque population. With that, there are some note-worthy Basque restaurants in town, some of which are located inside of a hotel or hostel type places.

The Noriega Hotel is one such place. Our friends made a reservation for our group to join hundreds of other diners for a Basque-meal, community style.

It was my first time, and I did not know what to expect. I took a peek at the 'restaurant' where tables and chairs were neatly set; where plates and silverware were waiting for some action.

Each group was called into the dining room at 7pm. As soon as you sit down, plates of food start to arrive. First there were salads, a simple peasant soup, bread and cheese, potato salad and beans... Then came the oxtail stew, and pasta, and fried chicken with french fries. Then there was a sweet ending of ice cream. I probably forgot a few things in between there (ah yes, the pickled tongue!), but you get the idea. There was food a plenty. And all the red wine you can drink!

The best thing about our dining experience that evening, however, was the fact that we got to sit next to some real Basque gentlemen. I could tell just by the way they held themselves...and the way they interacted with each other (which was very minimal). They reminded me of the Corsicans (one of our favorite places on earth): rugged, hard-working men, with few words.

Towards the end of the meal, we learned that the one gentleman (in the beret hat pictured above) who sat next to us, had immigrated to the US since the 1950s after he had served in the war. He works in Bakersfield now, and actually lives in the Noriega hotel (after a long marriage with his wife who kicked him out, for no apparent reason). That meal we had just shared with him, was his regular dinner. We joined him in his daily dinning room. Some days there is no one else, he says, and other days, hundreds (like the day we went).

It was a meal to remember.