More fermentation…

Sometimes the choices we make are decidedly not post apocalyptically-directed. Recently, for example, we opted to have our fireplace renovated by having a direct-vent gas insert placed into the firebox rather than spending an equivalent amount of money on having the chimney re-lined (as the terra cotta tile flue was falling apart and would not support a fire). This was due to our knowing that we will not be in this house for very many more years and that its next occupants may not appreciate a “back to the land” house in the middle of the city — though they will hopefully appreciate our raised garden beds and chicken coop.

As penance for this decision (which is aesthetically very pleasing, clean and efficient), I have been branching out with my fermentation experiments into the stinky foods — Kim Chi and Sauerkraut. I was nominally inspired by the recent Napa cabbage shortage in South Korea, but also I just knew the day would come once cabbages were in season. It was inevitable.

I’d long heard friends tell of the distinctive scent of curing kim chi, but after about a week and change of it “living” in my laboratory cabinet, and upon returning home and wondering why the house smelled of feet mixed with stale toilet water, I decided to check on the kim chi. It was done. Ha!

I didn’t take pictures apparently (I thought I did because it was very beautiful) but the carrots, daikon, cabbage, jalapeno and chili pepper spices were lovely in the clear glass jars, after I canned them for storage. Of the six 10oz jars I put up, I have only two left. Of course I eat it like pickles, but I also made a nice domburi over rice, and a lovely kim chi tofu soup. Mixed with our standard vegetable broth and a few tablespoons of butter, the stock from the tofu soup was some of the best we’ve had, bar none.

This week, as I’d finally acquired a proper red cabbage, I set out to make sauerkraut, which is less labor intensive (fewer steps) but takes longer to ferment (the kim chi only took about a week) as it won’t be ready until December. Still, this being day 3, that smell of feet and toilet water was back, and so I’ve moved my crock into a back bathroom where we keep the chicken feed. I think there’s a reason why folks don’t practice this homey tradition much any more. Still, I can hardly wait for my first tempeh Reuben!

When life gives you squash blossoms…

We have a fairly ambitious garden, considering that we don’t get enough sun to really make the most of it. We do however grow amazing greens, leafy herbs, onions, and cherry tomatoes; always, the plants themselves are very healthy and quite prolific, though  when it comes to cultivating the vegetables or fruits from the plants, well, we aren’t as lucky.

Take our pumpkin vines for example: we have four plants that have probably grown to cover several hundred linear feet. To date, we have harvested merely two pumpkins, one sugar pie and one French white heirloom. That said, we have blooms every day — usually in the 5s and 10s. I think our record probably hovers around 22 or 23 blooms in one day.

So while we may only have a handful of zucchini every year, and a few pumpkins, about 10 large tomatoes and a small basket of peppers (and other various and sundry veg), we always, always have prolific amounts of blossoms.

We have found that the blossoms have a very subtle floral or herbal flavor that is wonderful in broths (such as would lend itself to a squash blossom soup), to stir fries, and to our favorite: eggs.

The pairing of our own backyard chicken eggs, a sweet onion (sometimes from our yard), and a dozen or so prepared squash blossoms — with generous butter and olive oil, salt and a pinch of pepper — is the best way to enjoy them. Such was the case this morning, when a lovely harvest netted 16 beautiful blooms.

Freshly washed to get off the little flying creatures that are attracted to their fleeting glory.

Big and small — the little ones are from the French heirloom pumpkin vine, which has a more flavorful bloom. The large ones are from a Sugar Pie pumpkin (I think… It was a volunteer).

Piper loves to look at bright colors!

We always remove the fibrous stamen and base of the bloom, leaving only the petals, which steam inside the omlette with nothing but a pinch of salt.

Note how the blooms take on a deeper orange hue when cooked?  We split a 4-egg omlette and loved every bite!  Topped with a bit of grated Parmesan and accompanied with a freshly homemade tortilla.  What could be better on a Sunday morning?