Cooked as a cuke

You'd think it was the zucchini that was the trouble. The zucchini that was multiplying like mice on a farm or mosquitoes during a hot, muggy Alberta summer. Well, there's been a lot of it sure, but so far this year the star producer of our garden has been the cucumbers. If you're finding yourself in similar straits, I have two recipes to help you out. I know the saying goes "cool as a cuke" but here you're going to cook your cucumbers! 

Spiced Cucumbers and Coconut Milk

From Bon Appetit

This is totally delicious. The cooked cucumber reminded me somewhat of eggplant but maybe even better. In the interest of full disclosure I didn't peel my tomatoes (because life is too short for that), I used dried rather than fresh chiles (which may have made my version a little less spicy) and I used parsley leaves instead of cilantro (because that's what I had). It was suggested that you serve this with rice.

1 tbsp vegetable oil

2 cups of 1/4-inch-thick slices of peeled cucumber

salt and freshly ground black pepper

2 small tomatoes, seeded and coarsely chopped

4 scallions, thinly sliced

2 red Thai chiles (with seeds), thinly sliced

1 garlic clove, smashed

1/2 cup unsweetened coconut milk

1 1/2 tsp honey

1/4 cup fresh cilantro leaves

fresh lime juice

Heat oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Add cucumber. Saute until beginning to soften, about 1 minute. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper.

Add tomatoes, scallions, chiles and garlic. Saute until vegetables are soft, 2-3 minutes.

Add coconut milk and honey; simmer until vegetables are cooked through, 2-3 minutes. Stir in the cilantro leaves and a squeeze of fresh lime juice. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper.

Makes about 4 cups.

Sour Pickles

From Wild Fermentation

These are the genuine, real-deal pickles you've dreamed of. No vinegar, just straight-up lactic-acid fermented, brined cucumbers. Apparently the bane of pickle-makers is the cucumber's tendency to turn mushy rather than crispy. Adding grape, oak, cherry, or black currant leaves (which are rich in tannins) is said to help keep your pickles crunchy. I tried using red currant leaves and they seemed to work.

3 - 4 pounds unwaxed, small to medium cucumbers

3/8 cup sea salt

3 - 4 fresh flowering dill heads, or 3 - 4 tbsp of any form of dil (fresh or dried leaf or seeds)

2 - 3 heads of garlic, peeled

a handful of fresh grape, cherry, oak, black currant and/or horseradish leaves, washed (if available)

a pinch of black peppercorns

Rinse the cucumbers, taking care not to bruise them and making sure their blossoms are removed. Scrape off any remains of the blossom end. If you're using cucumbers that aren't fresh off the vine that day, soak them for a couple hours in very cold water to freshen them.

Dissolve the sea salt in 2L of water to create a brine solution. Stir until the salt is thoroughly dissolved.

Clean a ceramic crock or food-grade plastic bucket with a capacity of at least 4L. Place the dill, garlic, fresh leaves and black peppercorns at the bottom. Put the cucumbers on top. Pour the brine over the cucumbers, place a clean plate over them, then weigh it down with a jug filled with water or a boiled rack. If the brine doesn't cover the weighed-down plate, add more brine mixed at the same ratio of just under 1 tbsp of salt to each cup of water.

Cover the crock with a cloth to keep out dust and flies and store it in a cool place.

Check the crock every day. Skim any mold from the surface, but don't worry if you can't get it all. If there's mold, be sure to rinse the plate and weight. Taste the pickles after a few days. Eventually, after one to four weeks (depending on the temperature) the pickles will be fully sour and no longer white in the centre. Continue to enjoy them, moving them to the fridge to slow down fermentation.

Makes about 4L.

Birthday Balthazars (and what to do with the leftovers)

In the month of May, which now seems a million miles away, my sister and I threw a birthday party. See, she turned 24 on the 24th of May and, later, I turned 27 on the 27th of June - those are champagne birthdays! 

Around December, when we realized this was a milestone year for both of us, we decided that a big celebration was in order. As we tossed around ideas, like a pie-eating contest or bouncy castle, I declared that we needed a Nebuchadnezzar of champagne. Now, at the time, I didn't quite know how much was in a Nebuchadnezzar (that'd be 15L). All I knew was that after your typical 750ml bottle they had names and they started to get a little wacky - Magnum (1.5 L), Methuselah (6L), etc. So the search began.

At first I thought we'd special order a big bottle from one of the many excellent B.C. wineries making sparkling wine. No one did anything remotely close to that size. I trolled the internet looking for large bottles but my only leads came from the U.K. (with prohibitively expensive shipping costs) or the U.S. (with crazy border taxes). Finally, I was reminded that one of my cousins works for a big booze company. I fired off an e-mail and within 24 hours he'd found us a bottle! Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) we could only get a 12L bottle, a mere Balthazar. Well, it would have to do.

The day of the party dawned clear and chilly; sun sparkled on frosted wild strawberry blossoms outside the community hall near my grandparent's old farm. We shifted into last-minute party-planning gear with lots to do - lights to string, chairs to set up, outhouses to move.

Soon enough, our guests started to arrive - aunts and uncles, grandpas, high school friends, old co-workers who drove through the night to make it! Over 70 people dined on an entire spit-roasted pig with incredibly crispy, fatty skin and a gamut of potluck fixin's. They visited, lounged around the fire and played football. We blew out birthday candles on seven different kinds of cake - each with a different set of letters that, put together, spelled out HAPPY BIRTHDAY! And then we opened the champagne. It took a good while, but we opened it!

Once everyone had a glass of bubbly in hand we toasted to birthdays and started the evening festivities. We gathered around another campfire, this one in a clearing inside the woods on my Dad's nearby land. We roasted marshmallows and smokies, drank ApriKat beer and more champagne. We watched a fireworks extravaganza. We danced under Christmas lights and starlight in the middle of that clearing, in what seemed like the middle of nowhere, and it was good.

We didn't finish the champagne that night though. 

We didn't even finish it the next morning, mixed with orange juice, to wash down pancakes a la Steve (with real maple syrup) and rhubarb pie. We didn't finish it after the final clean-up when everyone in my family had a big glug as we posed for pictures.

David and I siphoned about 4L into an empty water jug and my sister took whatever was left in the bottle. We drained that a few weeks later, with the help of some grapefruit juice, at a post-funeral brunch. I shared some of mine with folks on the farm. I made a few cocktails. It was going nowhere but flat, fast. 

Then I found this recipe. It called for beer in the batter but I thought champagne would be a better match for blini. Having a glass of champagne in hand while you nibble on one topped with sour cream and caviar is practically a pre-requisite for this pancake of Russian origin. We ate ours with a smorgasbord of spring delights from the woods, our garden, and the farm (the grocery store too). There were radishes, butter, sea salt, asparagus, hard-boiled eggs, dill, nettle pesto, pecorino cheese spread, fresco mixed with some lemon zest, smashed peas with almond butter and bresaola. 

After I made a second batch the birthday champagne was finally laid to rest.

Champagne Blini

Adapted from The Yellow House

I made some changes to the recipe, using instant yeast instead of active dry because that's what I had on hand and it's what I prefer. I like that you don't have to proof it before you use it. All you do is whisk it in when you're combining your dry ingredients, add the wet ingredients and proceed. Super easy. I also used some buckwheat flour in a nod to the classic blini. The recipe calls for olive oil but you can use whatever kind of oil you like. I think I used canola with a bit of hemp oil (both from a terrific Alberta producer) the first time around. The second time I tried some of the camelina oil I'd just gotten as a birthday present. Oh, and finally, if you don't have 3 cups of champagne kicking around use half water, half champagne. The original recipe used half water, half beer but I was itching to get rid of as much champagne as I could!

2 tsp instant yeast

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 cup whole-wheat flour

1 cup buckwheat flour

good pinch of salt

2 eggs

3 tbsp olive oil

3 cups leftover champagne, warmed

butter, for cooking

Whisk together the yeast, flours and salt in a large mixing bowl. Crack the eggs into the mixture, add the oil and start whisking. Gradually add the champagne and continue whisking until smooth. Cover the bowl with a kitchen towel and set aside in a warm place for an hour, though more won't hurt. Once the mixture has risen visibly and is frothy you are ready to cook. 

Heat a cast-iron skillet over medium heat and film with a thin layer of butter. I like to use leftover butter wrappers for this purpose. Scoop heaping tablespoons or quarter-cups of batter (depending on whether you want tiny or large-ish blinis) onto the hot surface. When the edges look a bit dry, bubbles appear throughout the batter and the surface has fluffed up significantly (like making pancakes), flip. Cook on the other side until golden brown. 

Keep the blini in a pile on a plate in a low oven until you've cooked them all. Serve them warm with a smorgasbord of toppings to pick and choose from. Mix and match to your heart's content!

Makes a lot of appetizers or enough for about 4 as a meal, with plenty of toppings.

Bananas, boats and dreams

It is a fact that dispatches from this table have become few and far between. I could give all sorts of excuses - say sheep bit off my fingers, Columbian druglords held me hostage, gremlins stole my good ideas, I had a month-long nap. Yet, I suspect that none of these explanations would satisfy the likes of you, you hungry readers. And really, what are you hungry for? (Feel free to leave comments)!

Well, how about this: BANANA DREAMBOATS! I know, I know. It sounds more like some sexual connotations got mixed up with a male stripper than a recipe but, trust me, it is JUST what you need this summer. Some of you, most likely many of you (seeing as I wouldn't shut up about this during a certain period of my life), have heard of the banana dreamboat, some of you have been lucky enough to experience it. It is my mission to make sure everyone gets that chance.

So next time you're going camping - whether hiking a remote backcountry trail, pulling your RV into a mosquito-riden provincial park or even just throwing logs into the backyard fire pit, it doesn't matter - bring along some tin foil and prepare to drift away.

Banana Dreamboats

Modified from a similar campfire delicacy introduced to my sister by her friend Holly

Warning: The following pictures may depict graphic and/or stringy material. Viewer discretion is advised. Thank you to Steve, Pamela and Cody for their superb modelling.

Bananas 

Peanut butter (smooth, sweet Kraft is preferable here)

Chocolate (whatever floats your boat)

Marshmallows

Tin foil

The first and perhaps most important step is to peel one section of your banana peel back BUT not all the way. It must remain attached to the rest of the peel still surrounding the banana. The best way to do this is by grasping the stem and pulling forward so you peel a section from the inner curve of the banana peel.

Next, using a spoon, scoop out a layer of banana. How much you remove depends on how much you like peanut butter. Eat what you remove. But don't eat all of the banana.

Next, spread peanut butter over the remaining banana. Doesn't my last instruction make sense now?

Break your chocolate into rough chunks or crisp squares, whatever you prefer, and press into the peanut butter, single-file-style.

Tear marshmallows in half then squish the halves on top of your chocolate layer until the banana boat is full.

Take the peel you stripped but did not separate from remaining peel and put it back in place. If necessary, press down firmly to keep the contents inside. You have essentially just stuffed a banana with dreams. Wrap tightly in tin foil and place on the waning but still glowing embers of a campfire.

This is the trickiest part. It is hard to gauge how long your banana dreamboat will take to cook. If you leave it too long the banana will turn to a slimy mush and everything will coalesce into a rather unappetizing slop. If you don't leave it long enough the flavours won't mingle and meld into the heavenly concoction you desire. You want your chocolate melting, your marshmallows molten but perhaps still slightly toothsome in the centre, and your banana warmed through. Of course, you only have one shot to get this right. Once you unwrap, there's no going back. Here's my advice: use a not-too-hot fire (more coals than flames), and flip often. It usually only takes 3 or 4 minutes. Practice, practice, practice. In time you'll make the banana dreamboat of your, er, dreams. And remember, sometimes even professionals like me make duds. If at first you don't succeed, try again!

Alright, when you decide your dreamboat is ready remove it from the fire. (Ha! I guess this part can be tricky too). Open the tin foil package, preferably on a plate (this can get messy folks), and strip away the peel that holds it all in place. Eat with a spoon by the glow of an evening campfire. Seriously, make sure it's dark when you eat this. It may taste delicious but it looks awful. 

There you have it. Your life has just been enriched. Go forth, share the word, make this the summer of your banana dreamboat dreams.

I think you know you can make as many as you want or are prepared to make. I find one dreamboat per person per camping trip plenty though.

A snack to attack

I've finally wrangled my boyfriend David into handing over his guest blog entry. About time! He invented a snack to put all other snacks to dirty, rotten, blushing, bashful shame.

David is over 6 feet tall, has preternaturally curly hair and can eat a jar of peanut butter in less than 3 days. He loves farming, dogs (especially Matty) and making huge batches of popcorn. He likes long walks, baths and stealing all the covers. He dislikes whininess and being told what to do. David also has a blog which he hasn't updated in a donkey's years.

And here he is:

It's hard to remember this memory having already overlaid it with several weeks of snacks, but what the hay, I'll give it a try!

It was midday and as happens around the time, I was hungry. I rustled through the cupboards and our fridge - oranges, apples, an avocado, tins of sardines, a bag of cashews. All excellent snacking material! It just goes without saying though that sometimes events in life don't unfold along the creases. Sometimes you have time, dates and a greasy jar of peanut butter in the drawer.

Fire on a Log

To spread the peanut butter I'd recommend using a fork - the back of its teeth to be exact. This gives your peanut butter a fiery look, leaving the impression of a log burning - hence the name of this snack.

The adventuresome might try stacking this treat on a slice of organic dairy such as mild or aged cheddar cheese.

Organic raw dates, pitted

Organic crunchy peanut butter, well-stirred

Using a fork, smear a generous amount of peanut butter onto each date, filling the hollow where you removed the pit. Eat.

Make as many as you want to make.

Bet you can't eat just one

Where did we last leave off? That's right, eager with anticipation for more guest bloggers. Unfortunately, they've been busy or shy and are going to make us wait a little bit longer. It'll be worth it, I'm sure.

 

Meanwhile, I've been settling into my new home for the next few months. A trailer home. In Alberta. Parked in the middle of the widest, most-likely-blue sky and endless drab-yellow-brown everything else that is April. We've come here to learn about sheep dairying and more cheese-making and who knows what else. Nearly ten years ago, when I first left this province for the greener pastures of B.C. I hardly expected to find myself back, ever. But here I am, slugging pails of milk to baby lambs, leaping over fences, wrangling sheep, dodging feces. I'm scrubbing floors and ceilings and shelves and cheese. It all makes one tired, and hungry!

And segueway to the point of this entry....

I made these granola bars, though you could just as easily call them a square, a couple days ago. My Mom had given me a jar of almond butter (a splurge item I would rarely, if ever, buy) and the far recesses of sleep-deprived brain remembered a recipe I had bookmarked that used just such a nut butter. I improvised a bit with what was on hand, swapped some nuts in, some fruits out, reduced the honey so they'd be a little less sweet and voila, genius! Insanely and addictively delicious. We probably could have eaten the entire pan in one sitting but we restrained ourselves. Slightly. Each time I sent David back to the fridge for "just one more" he gave a whoop and did a little happy dance.

You Will Eat the Entire Pan of Granola Bars

Adapted from Food52

As always, tweak to "suit your need". The nuts, puffed cereals and dried fruits you use are imminently interchangeable. I ended up using about 1/3 cup of goji berries, a little less than 2/3 cup of prunes, chopped, with a few dried apple slices, also chopped, and a sprinkle of coconut flakes. My almond butter was roasted, creamy and unsalted. I'd recommend the same.

3/4 cup old-fashioned rolled oats

1/2 cup raw pumpkin seeds

1/2 cup raw sunflower seeds

1/4 cup flaxseeds

1/4 cup almond meal

3/4 cup puffed rice

3/4 cup puffed millet

1 cup assorted dried fruit

1/2 cup almond butter

1/4 cup honey

1/4 cup brown rice syrup

1/2 tbsp flaky sea salt

1 tsp cinnamon

Pre-heat the oven to 350 F. Oil an 8-inch square baking pan. 

Toast the oats, pumpkin and sunflower seeds in the oven until fragrant and barely browned. It is best to toast them separately as they take different amounts of time. Toss them in a bowl with the remaining dry ingredients.

Combine the almond butter, honey, and brown rice syrup in a small saucepan. Warm over medium low heat, stirring occasionally, until liquidy and smooth and just beginning to bubble slightly, about 5 minutes. Stir in the sea salt and cinnamon.

Pour over the dry ingredients and mix to combine evenly, ensuring no dry spots remain. Take care not to crush the puffed cereals.

Scrape into the prepared pan and, with oiled hands, press down firmly to create an even layer. Chill, uncovered, until firm, about 30 minutes. Cut into roughly 2-inch squares and see if you can't finish the whole pan.

If you can practice considerable self-restraint these will keep for up to a week in an airtight container at room temperature or in the fridge (where they'll be firmer) or up to a month in the freezer.

Makes about 16 squares.

P.S: In lieu of an Easter entry, check out my friend Caitee's blog, where she makes my Easter speciality: Mini-Egg Pancakes!