#meanwhile I crumble under one small task per week

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[edgewaterfarmcsa]

CSA WEEK 7

p i c k l i s t

Tomatoes - Carmen Sweet Pepper (big) - Jalapeno Pepper (little) - Purple Pepper - 

Pickling Cucumbers - Parsley - Corn - Garlic - Blueberries

Yall. I unintentionally included two recipes that are far too long to offer field reports from the week (because i limit myself to a one sheet print out per CSAer)- HOWEVER, the following recipes are important (to me) and can be used throughout the Summer in many ways as they are both extremely adaptable with the current influx of cabbage heads and otherwise.  Also, if you have not done so and are curious about fermented foods, the second recipe on sauerkraut is your gateway to filling your house with never enough crocks and never enough cabbage, etc…   And just so I don’t leave you completely hanging on field reports: An amazing amount of hours were spent this week picking blueberries.  

TIPS - TRICKS - RECIPES:

LENTIL, CABBAGE, AND FETA SALAD WITH FRIZZLED ONIONS BY LUKAS VOLGER

JENNY’S NOTE: My house has been eating this once a week since cabbage has been field ready.  We never have all the ingredients.  Many times we’ve made this without the lentils or onion- BUT the main players here are cabbage, feta, toasted almonds and fresh herbs, salt, and dressong.  If you can gather those essential foods then chop on and eat up!  (Also, I use the term “we” incredibly loosely, as my dear friend/housemate Rich, has been doing the cooking here). 

Also, the book this recipe is from, START SIMPLE by Lukas Volger (Copyright © 2020 by Lukas Volger. Published by Harper Wave, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers. Reprinted by permission.) proves to be an excellent Summer eating resource.

INGREDIENTS:

½ cup brown, black or dark green lentils

Salt

½ medium white or yellow onion

Olive oil

5 cups sliced cabbage

¼ teaspoon sugar

2 tablespoons red or white wine vinegar

2 teaspoons dijon mustard

¼ teaspoon honey

½ cup crumbled feta cheese

1.2 cup coarsely chopped toasted almonds

½ cup parsley leaves or dill fronds

Combine the lentils with 1 cup water and ½ teaspoon salt in a small saucepan.  Bring to a simmer, cover, and cook until tender, 12 to 18 minutes, depending on which lentils you use.  Drain off and liquid left in the pan and allow to cool.

(JENNY’S NOTE: SO FAR, WE HAVE NOT DONE THE FOLLOWING BECAUSE THE ONIONS HAVE ONLY RECENTLY STARTED PUTTING ON SIZE, IT SOUNDS DELISH, BUT FEEL FREE TO SKIP IF YOU DON’T HAVE ANY ONIONS)  Meanwhile, slice the onion into paper-thin wasps, preferably using a mandolin, or working carefully with a chef’s knife.  Warm about ¼ inch of the olive oil in a small skillet over medium heat.  Dip a piece of onion into it to ensure it’s properly hot- it should sizzle immediately- then add all the onions.  Cook, stirring often with a fork, untl they get crispy and turn a reddish-brown color, 10 to 20 minutes. Watch carefully for the final few minutes, as they burn easily.  Use a slotted spoon to transfer them to a paper towel- lined plate and sprinkle with salt.  SAVE THE OIL!

When the oil has cooled until it’s safe to handle, strain it through a fine mesh sieve or coffee filter to remove all solids into a glass jar (I use a 3-inch strainer for this task).

Toss the cabbage, ½ teaspoon of salt, and the sugar in a colander and let soften for 15 to 30 minutes, then gentlypress with a spatula to drain off excess liquid.  

Combine the vinegar, mustard, and honey in a jar, along with the 3 tablespoons of the cooled onion-cooking oil.  Shake to emulsify.  

Fold the cabbage, lentils, cheese, almonds, and parsley leaves with most of the dressing in a serving bowl.  Taste and add more dressing if needed.  Pile the frizzled onions on top, tossing them into the salad at the table it’s being served.  

(JENNYS NOTE: The following recipe has actually change my life)

Written by Sandor Katz

Sandor Ellix Katz, the creator of this site, has earned the nickname “Sandorkraut” for his love of sauerkraut. This is Sandorkaut’s easy sauerkraut recipe from his book  Wild Fermentation: The Flavor, Nutrition, and Craft of Live-Culture Foods (Chelsea Green, 2003).

Timeframe: 3 days to 3 months (and beyond) Vessel: 1-quart/1-liter wide-mouth jar, or a larger jar or crock

Ingredients (for 1 quart/1 liter):

2 pounds/1 kilogram of vegetables per quart/liter, any varieties of cabbage alone or in combination, or at least half cabbage and the remainder any combination of radishes, turnips, carrots, beets, kohlrabi, Jerusalem artichokes, onions, shallots, leeks, garlic, greens, peppers, or other vegetables

Approximately 1 tablespoon salt (start with a little less, add if needed after tasting)

Other seasonings as desired, such as caraway seeds (for classic kraut), juniper berries, dill, chili peppers, ginger, turmeric, dried cranberries, or whatever you can conjure in your imagination

 Process:

Prepare the vegetables. Remove the outer leaves of the cabbage and reserve. Scrub the root vegetables but do not peel. Chop or grate all vegetables into a bowl. The purpose of this is to expose surface area in order to pull water out of the vegetables, so that they can be submerged under their own juices. The finer the veggies are shredded, the easier it is to get juices out, but fineness or coarseness can vary with excellent results.

Salt and season. Salt the vegetables lightly and add seasonings as you chop. Sauerkraut does not require heavy salting. Taste after the next step and add more salt or seasonings, if desired. It is always easier to add salt than to remove it. (If you must, cover the veggies with dechlorinated water, let this sit for 5 minutes, then pour off the excess water.)

Squeeze the salted vegetables with your hands for a few minutes (or pound with a blunt tool). This bruises the vegetables, breaking down cell walls and enabling them to release their juices. Squeeze until you can pick up a handful and when you squeeze, juice releases (as from a wet sponge).

Pack the salted and squeezed vegetables into your jar. Press the vegetables down with force, using your fingers or a blunt tool, so that air pockets are expelled and juice rises up and over the vegetables. Fill the jar not quite all the way to the top, leaving a little space for expansion. The vegetables have a tendency to float to the top of the brine, so it’s best to keep them pressed down, using one of the cabbage’s outer leaves, folded to fit inside the jar, or a carved chunk of a root vegetable, or a small glass or ceramic insert. Screw the top on the jar; lactic acid bacteria are anaerobic and do not need oxygen (though they can function in the presence of oxygen). However, be aware that fermentation produces carbon dioxide, so pressure will build up in the jar and needs to be released daily, especially the first few days when fermentation will be most vigorous.

Wait. Be sure to loosen the top to relieve pressure each day for the first few days. The rate of fermentation will be faster in a warm environment, slower in a cool one. Some people prefer their krauts lightly fermented for just a few days; others prefer a stronger, more acidic flavor that develops over weeks or months. Taste after just a few days, then a few days later, and at regular intervals to discover what you prefer. Along with the flavor, the texture changes over time, beginning crunchy and gradually softening. Move to the refrigerator if you wish to stop (or rather slow) the fermentation. In a cool environment, kraut can continue fermenting slowly for months. In the summer or in a heated room, its life cycle is more rapid; eventually it can become soft and mushy.

Surface growth. The most common problem that people encounter in fermenting vegetables is surface growth of yeasts and/or molds, facilitated by oxygen. Many books refer to this as “scum,” but I prefer to think of it as a bloom. It’s a surface phenomenon, a result of contact with the air. If you should encounter surface growth, remove as much of it as you can, along with any discolored or soft kraut from the top layer, and discard. The fermented vegetables beneath will generally look, smell, and taste fine. The surface growth can break up as you remove it, making it impossible to remove all of it. Don’t worry.

Enjoy your kraut! I start eating it when the kraut is young and enjoy its evolving flavor over the course of a few weeks (or months in a large batch). Be sure to try the sauerkraut juice that will be left after the kraut is eaten. Sauerkraut juice packs a strong flavor, and is unparalleled as a digestive tonic or hangover cure.   Develop a rhythm. Start a new batch before the previous one runs out. Get a few different flavors or styles going at once for variety. Experiment!

When you buy fresh parsley, trim the ends off the stems right when you get home, and stick it in a cup (or a pretty little vase!) of water, as you would for cut flowers. If you don’t use it all right away, change the water every day. Don’t let it go to waste! Start putting it on everything. Don’t take the simplest, loveliest things for granted.

1. Put chopped parsley on everything: Don’t chop it too finely — bigger pieces are prettier and have more flavor. Throw it with abandon on top of grilled vegetables, roasted potatoes, a cold green-bean salad, stews, soups, pasta, hot or cold grain dishes like couscous or quinoa or tabbouleh or …

2. Make a super-simple parsley salad: Throw it together along the lines of the Epicurious recipe that involves just a couple-few cups of Italian parsley leaves, a couple tablespoons of extra-virgin olive oil, a teaspoon of fresh lemon juice and a little salt (or, to get fancy, substitute umeboshi vinegar for the salt).

3. Make a slightly more complicated parsley salad: Try (or make your own variation on) Alton Brown’s parsley salad recipe, with flat-leaf parsley, lemon juice, lemon zest, walnut and sesame oil, honey and sesame seeds. Find it online, along with a minute-long video in which he declares it’s “perfectly capable of playing first string” — my hero! And he notes that this parsley salad keeps for three weeks (!?) in the refrigerator, though how you wouldn’t eat it all up immediately is a mystery.

4. Make a salad with lots of parsley in it: Tear up any mild lettuce (butter is nice), and mix in plenty of Italian or curly parsley, roughly chopped (a cup or even two!), then dress with a favorite vinaigrette. I know this sounds boring. It is not. Or …

5. Make super-delicious creamy parsley salad dressing, and put it on a salad with lots of parsley in it: It’s just ½ cup plain Greek yogurt (whole milk is best), ¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil, ¼ cup (or more!) fresh parsley (either kind), kosher salt and fresh-ground black pepper, all mixed up together — chop the parsley and mix by hand, or use an immersion blender (easiest cleanup), regular blender or food processor. This also makes a great dip for vegetables. Or for chips. Or your life in general. This dressing is really, truly, surprisingly spectacular. (I stole the idea from Amy Pennington’s cookbook “Salad Days,” which has the same recipe but calls for dill. Nobody truly loves dill.)

6. Make tomato-parsley sumac salad:Mehdi Boujrada of local spice-and-oil company Villa Jerada sent me this one, and it is good. Combine 2 tomatoes (roughly diced), ¼ cup white onion (more finely diced) and ½ cup parsley leaves (roughly chopped); drizzle with olive oil; then add sumac, salt and pepper to taste (start slowly, mix, add more, and when it starts to taste marvelous, add yet a little bit more).

7. Put parsley in a smoothie: This comes from Becky Selengut’s “How to Taste,” and she promises it gives “a burst of brightness.” (She also mentions doing this with mint … sure, fine.) Another Selengut parsley hint: Instead of discarding stems, stow them in a bag in the freezer, and throw them in when making stock.

8. Make a super-simple parsley sauce, and put it on everything: Put a half a bunch of parsley (use mostly leaves, about a cup), a clove of garlic (I prefer a smaller one or half a big one), ½ teaspoon of kosher salt and about ¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil together, and blend well. You could add lemon juice and zest, and call it gremolata; add toasted nuts and Parmesan, and make it pesto; sub a bit of shallot for the garlic; add a little anchovy paste for a lot more oomph (but less pure parsley taste). Again, an immersion blender is your friend here, though a regular one or a food processor is fine; you also could chop and blend by hand. This sauce is magical on a juicy steak, or a piece of fish (maybe cooked en papillote), or on vegetables, or inside a grilled-cheese sandwich, or drizzled on a soup or stew, or … It also keeps for a long time in the fridge — just let it warm to room temperature to use.

9. Make garlic-parsley butter, and apply with abandon: Called, fancily, “Beurre Maître d’Hôtel” in French, this is just butter (say ½ cup), fresh lemon juice (a tablespoon or so), garlic (optional, a clove or two, minced finely) and finely chopped parsley (¼ cup) creamed together — start with the butter alone, then slowly add the rest in order. Add a little lemon zest for more, well, zestiness. Again, apply to seafood, grilled meat, vegetables, life.

You might think it’s weird to love parsley, but you’ll see!

Bethany Jean Clement is The Seattle Times’ food writer. Reach her at bclement@seattletimes.com or 206-464-2050. On Twitter: @BJeanClement

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CP Stories

(This tale outlines one afternoon/evening of the summer I spent working at Cedar Point Amusement Park in Sandusky, Ohio. I got off work, walked to my dorm, and started writing everything down as it happened.)

*open notebook*

SO here I am on the very hot shuttle bus, packed to the gills. The shuttle bus is, in its purest form, a school bus painted a horrible blue-green and slapped with a Cedar Point logo. There are two of these monstrosities; one that runs from the men’s dorms to the Commons dorms, and one that runs from the Commons to town, where you can go to the mall, Wal-Mart, etc.) So every time I need something or if I’m bored on my day off, I have to first walk through the park, through the marina gate to the men’s dorms, sit and wait for the green monster, die in the sweltering heat, ride for 25 minutes to the Commons, wait for green monster #2, die again in the bus heat, ride another 15 minutes into town, then disembark. All this for a tube of toothpaste?

Suddenly the death trap lurches forward and we’re off. Having my legs folded and propped up on the seat on front of me has made my legs sweat a lot. It is however my my go-to comfiest school bus position. I patented it back in ‘98 during my first season of school bus riding. A close second favorite position was sitting on the floor backwards, playing with my Beanie Babies on the seat.

Soon enough we pull into the Commons parking lot. I thank the purple-uniformed Jamaican boy who lets me off in front of him. I also thank the bald, wrinkly, slow-talking bus driver whose name I’ve decided is Harry. I like old guys. Well most of them.

I step onto GM#2 and take my seat, third from the back on the right, and assume The Position. It makes my legs sweat but there really is no better position. There are two Mexican girls across from me, one of whom has obviously discovered the Hollister store at the Sandusky Mall. She has on Hollister sunglasses, shirt, denim shorts, belt, and flip flops. Hollister Overload, muchacha. I have only set foot in that store once, back home. If I hadn’t been sent running, choked by the overwhelming bro-cologne bomb I might have stayed long enough to see more than the one rack of $20 paper-thin tank tops that looked like they’d crumble if I looked at them wrong. It’s not that I don’t like their clothes, some of them are cute, it’s just that I can’t stomach paying that much for something that will a) wear out very quickly and b) put out the message that I want people to think I’m cool for wearing this brand. That’s all you’re paying for is the damn logo. Get me a plain white tee and I’ll paint a frickin bird on it and sell it for $20. My other thing is.. If I do wear a name brand, I don’t wear everything from the store all at once so you don’t Overload.

Bus driver #2 has obviously decided to take us on the scenic route. It’s been 20 minutes and the mall is nowhere in sight. Not that I have anywhere to be, I don’t have a date with toothpaste or anything.

*later, back from Wal-Mart*

I take the first bite of my cheddar, honey mustard, and cocktail sauce sandwich. It’s less-than-delicious, but will do the job it’s intended of, which is of course to quash my insane hunger. These days I find myself eating a lot of “makeshift dinners”, partly because let’s face it I’m broke, but also because I get a small sense of excitement from inventing a new food, no matter how sad the food is. I decide next to quash my boredom and go outside. Suddenly remembering yesterday’s episode with the dollar-bill-rejecting vending machine, I tap into my “savings”, a very small piggy bank I fill with loose change. (It’s not actually a pig it’s a plastic cylinder with a slot at the top and a dollar bill decal wrapped around the outside. I stole it from my older sister who had won it in one of those middle school fundraiser contest things.) Success, I find four quarters. So I gather up my makeshift dinner, the quarters, my phone, and this notebook, and head down the sketchy metal staircase to the “lounge”. I put this in quotes because our “lounge” is really 3 picnic tables under a rickety pavilion that is probably older than both my parents combined, flanked by a water fountain and two poorly-working microwaves. Luxurious right?

While carefully walking down the aforementioned stairs, my dinner already devoured, I come across a foreign couple just casually chatting on the bottom step. As I approach them, I can tell they come from somewhere in Eastern Europe. Let’s say Czechoslovakia since it’s fun to say! (Is that even a country anymore?) Their chatter continues and they simultaneously turn their heads to look up at me. The girl gives me the ol’ elevator eyes, seemingly glancing a bit too long at the length of my pink shorts. The guy’s eyes pan down, obviously noting my bare feet. He meets and returns the girl’s look of mild disgust. I cheerfully greet them and breeze past, careful not to tread on the oil stain on the concrete that always reminded me of a pair of lungs. Once they are almost out of earshot, I let out a chuckle. People, it’s 95 degrees out and after this summer I’m 99% sure I’ll never see any of you again, not that I’d care anyway.

Suddenly noticing all three picnic tables are occupied by Skype-ing foreigners, I opt to set up shop in the grass under one of the two trees. I sit with my back against the trunk, notebook in my lap and toss my phone into the grass under my knees. 

It’s the summer before I start college and I have recently been inspired by the completion of my recommended reading. It’s the first book I’ve read of my own (suggested) will since I don’t know when. (It was recommended not required, give me at least half credit here!) I used to read A LOT as a kid but the older I get I’m finding it more and more difficult to sit and focus on one thing for too long. Oh! Here comes the mutually disgusted Czech couple! See there I go, I get distracted that quickly.

Anyway, I was talking about inspiration. I tend to become inspired by many things over the course of a day, if I allow myself to be open to inspiration. Sometimes I ignore it, sometimes I try to channel it into writing something worthwhile, sometimes I honestly don’t know what to do with it and I spend so much time trying to decide what to do that by the time I make a decision, I’ve lost the inspiration. RIght now it seems to be working for me.

Before I go any further, let me introduce myself. Hi I’m Katie. I’m 16 weeks shy of 19, 2 weeks shy of starting college, and 10 days shy of quitting my job here at Cedar Point. I don’t actually work in the park, I work at a restaurant on the beach as a food runner. Nope, not a server, just a runner. I spend between 4 and 8 hours per shift, 4 or 5 days a week running hot, heavy plates of gross food to ungrateful customers. And also performing other various tasks for other employees. If we were an honest society, my job title would be “Everyone Else’s Bitch”. But I don’t like to complain, It’s alright I guess. I mean I have no frame of reference as this is my first job, but the daily tips I get are great, and sometimes the customers are friendly? And if not, I steal fries from their plates before I bring ‘em out. Once I even took a quick dip into a guy’s BBQ sauce too. Sometimes if they are blatantly rude it gives me material for humorous Facebook posts later on. I’ll spend my shift thinking of how to word it then post when I get back to my dorm. With all the weird shit I observe on the daily, I’ve managed to become pretty damn good at turning the unfortunate into something laughable, even if just to myself. Although judging by the number of likes I get on some of my posts by the next morning I can assume they’re laughable to others too.

Suddenly my phone chimes with the reception of a new text. It’s from Chad, a decidedly very lonely blond kid from high school. “Hey ;)” I quickly reply, “Don’t bug me now.” Truth is, I’ve been struck by inspiration and I don’t want to lose it this time. That quickly goes out the window when a different pair of assumingly Eastern European girls sit down at the picnic table nearest me and begin to chat loudly in their language over a delicious-looking triple chocolate muffin and hot tea. Feeling defeated, I retrieve my phone and try to connect to the terrible wifi. Meanwhile I get another text  from Chad. “Why?” I reply, “Inspiration struck and I’m rolling with it.” knowing him and his probably lack of understanding of the creative mind, he’ll probably reply with something along the lines of “Wtf?”. We’ll have to wait & see.

While waiting, I grab up my quarters and slink over to the vending machine to get a Brisk. I remembered that, based on my extensive personal research, it’s the perfect complement to pretzel sticks, and it just so happens I have a bag of the things up in my dorm. I leave my things in the grass, and head back up, over the lung-oil stain and up the metal stairs to the sweltering hallway to room 172. The room is about ¼ the size of my bedroom at home, with dirty cracked wooden floors of extremely pale blue and an equally dirty window. It came equipped with steel bunk beds with a blue plastic-covered mattress, two mismatched 4-drawer dressers, and a yellow side table with a squeaky drawer, a lamp, and an armless, high-back wooden chair. I feel the need to note that the little lamp is about 3x brighter than the actual light on the ceiling. With my addition of mini-fridge and pink bedding it seems a bit more livable. I grab my pretzels and head back out to my tree. When I get there, I find that the muffin-sharers are still there only now across from them sits another pair of girls who are staring intently at a laptop screen, the bright light illuminating their confused faces in the darkening dusk. The muffin gals say words in their language that have a tone similar to a goodbye salutation. My guess was correct as they soon gather up their tea mugs and and rise from the table. After a bit more chatter they lean in and kiss on the lips. Interesting. 

Dusk has become night, the sunlight is now completely gone. I decide to use the light of my phone to write a bit more before heading up to sleep on my oh-so-cozy PlastiMattress™. OH! I remember to check on my Chad-versation. His reply: “Umm okay…” Ha. Toldja.

Trying to gather my next thoughts, I end up zoning out on the pop machine behind the confused laptop couple. The guy must think I’m staring at him because he looked up at me, equally as confused at me as with the laptop. Oops. I’m supposed to be invisibly people-watching. I’ve been had.

*a bit later* 

It’s still the same night, only now I’ve put on sweatpants and moved my writing sesh inside decay pavilion. My phone died while I was surfing the world wide web. The area is now inhabited by 12 other people, now 14, and approximately 6 billion little sweat flies. They seem to really like my feet. I gotta get out of here, time for bed.