Recipes

The airport security worker eyed my three-once bottles with suspicion. I feigned indifference and fought off the urge to speak. A jar of home-made nut butter had been confiscated from me after I had explained what it was. So I thought it best not to expound upon fermentation and the revitalization of local food traditions. Instead I simply prayed that the sourdough starter might pass for shampoo. What the blood-red beverage of fermented beets might be taken for I dared not imagine.

Anyone who knows me or read my article challenging consumers to be more conscious about packaging knows that I am always trying to use less and less. I suppose until I see more people hauling around coffee mugs and saying no to unnecessary bags, I will always be encouraging more thoughtfulness. I was thinking along these lines the other day as Kadin (my 6 year old son) and I were riding the bus and had to stop at the grocery store. 

Ace was magnificent. His thick, cocoa colored fur rose to a spikey crest down his backbone and his curved horns were ridged, thick and powerful. Although he resembled a thug, equipped with Mohawk and weapons, he had a gentle disposition and would tip over when startled, just like the rest of the herd: Ace was a Tennessee Fainting Goat.

When it's cold outside, I like to find retreat in my kitchen. The warmth of the oven, from spices and from just simply moving in the cuisine-creating space can really feel like a loving hug when I need one. Just this past November, I went on a yoga workshop week in Belize, it was fantastic (shocker I'm sure). Finding myself in mid-month January in Minnesota, although we have had a mild winter thus far, I think to myself that perhaps I jumped the gun on my tropical getaway. As I reminisce of the fresh catch-of-the-day crisp and warm off the grill and the warm sun on my skin as I lay in a hammock on the beach, I realize that a tropical fix may not be as far away as it may seem.

Last January I was ogling my co-worker’s lunchboxes as they enjoyed citrus, bananas, and vegetables from places I could only dream about living. Gone were the red ripe watermelons and fresh salads that made local eating easy in June, July and August. Just after the New Year, we had to start rationing our 10 remaining bags of frozen broccoli, what we thought was enough to last us through a Minnesota winter. Last January I was completely unprepared for the wintertime locavore life.

When Jennifer Reese lost her job, she decided to economize in the kitchen, something she'd been writing about already on her popular food blog, Tipsy Baker. She started the blog to test and review the many cookbooks in her home. Along the way, though, that testing made her curious about what can be made better and less expensively at home.

This morning I woke up in the mood to cook. It was a cold morning and I wanted something warm and filling, so I decided to try out a twist on my usual bowl of yogurt or oatmeal. Who says breakfast has to be boring? I had decided last night that I wanted to make something seasonal, and I thought of cinnamon and apples. I know those are usually ingredients found in seasonal desserts - pies, tarts, etc., but I also love to bake, so whenever I see recipes that combine breakfast with baking, I am temped to try them out.

My other half visited the River Market Co-op of Stillwater and brought home yummy delights, both familiar and some not so. The foreigner to our kitchen were chestnuts, from Iowa. He was excited, and I curious. “‘Tis the season to have a chestnut," he declared.

Cold air creeping in through the cracks raged it’s battle with the warm air wafting from the fireplace. Dinner was consumed, the kids were in bed, and all was quiet except for the rockin’ tunes played by none other than 89.3 The Current. Nat King Cole’s version of “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire”’ cycled through our heads. Admittedly, our fireplace is the fool-proof version that turns fire on and off with a simple flip-of-the-wrist switch. So, roasting chestnuts on an “open fire” would not be an option.

Its tenderness and flavor, size and cheapness were the themes of universal admiration. Edged out by apple-sauce and mashed potatoes, it was a sufficient dinner for the whole family…”

~Charles Dickens, ‘A Christmas Carol’

We came to poultry later in our grand scheme than we had originally intended. After purchasing day old chickens from the Murray McMurray Hatchery, and having some success with eggs and meat, we decided to try our hand at ducks. While attending a local auction, we ran across our fainting goat breeder (more on that story later) and found she had brought a hatch of Muscovy ducklings to the auction.

Leaves had fallen and forecasters told ghastly stories of a fast-approaching cold front with resulting snow. While the neighbors switched out their wardrobes, strung their Christmas lights and tapped in their snow-markers, we were busy packing our bags full of t-shirts and summer pajamas. My family was heading out of town, we were going down south for two weeks. Houston, Texas was the get-away destination.