Blueberry Chutney

Chutney, chutney, chutney— that was the theme in my kitchen this summer. Chutney has more razzle dazzle than a simple jam or jelly and I am terribly fond of both razzle and dazzle. When Renee and I used to sell our Fig & Fromage tortas at Kowalksi's— coming up with chutney and cheese combinations was one of my favorite parts of the job— right up there with being the demo girl and obsessing about what ampersand and font to use for the labels. Chutney and cheese belong together, like Sonny and Cher, caramel and apples or George and tennis balls.

This chutney would be good with a sharp white cheddar, gorgonzola, an aged gouda or stuffed in a chicken breast with goat cheese. The good news is I have a lot of this chutney on the shelf and I'm going to have to get creative if we're going to use them before next year's blueberry crop. You'll know I've run out of ideas if you get a jar of chutney for your birthday, Christmas or National Taco Day.

Blueberry Chutney

6 cups blueberries 1/4 cup dried cherries 1/4 cup dried cranberries 1/2 cup dried currents 3/4 cup dry white wine 3/4 cup cider vinegar 1 cup honey 1/2 cup raw sugar 2 cups red onion, chopped 2 tbsp garlic, minced 1 tsp red chile flakes 1 1/2 tsp fresh thyme 2 pieces crystallized ginger, minced

Add all ingredients to a large pot and bring to a boil. Remove the cinnamon stick after 15 minutes. Reduce the heat to low and simmer, stirring occasionally, for 30 - 45 minutes, until mixture is thick. At this point, you can cool completely and it will keep in the refrigerator, covered, for up to a week.

You can also ladle hot chutney into hot sterilized jars, leaving 1/4-inch head space. Wipe rims of the jars, cover with lids, and screw bands on until just barely tight. Place jars on rack in pot and cover completely with water. Cover pot and bring to a boil over high heat. Boil for 10 minutes. Turn off heat, uncover pot, and allow jars to rest in water for five minutes. Remove jars from pot and allow them to rest undisturbed on countertop for six hours or overnight.

Photo Safari On The Little Sioux

Last Sunday morning, Charlie came in my bedroom and said, 'it's photo safari day, where are we going?'. My heart was happy, it's no small feat to share a passion for the natural world and photography with your kids. Will found an old camera of Jack's in his bedroom that we gave to Charlie and now we are a gang of four for our Sunday safaris. We went to the Little Sioux River (when we were still a gang of three and one George) and hiked down the stream bed, it was another beautiful afternoon in what is turning into a lifetime of beautiful afternoons.

One of the things I enjoy most about our outings is watching the kids bent over a flower, fallen log or a patch of moss and realizing they get it. They understand we are blessed and it is the nuances and little details that tell the stories we carry with us. Finding a beautiful mushroom,  a perfectly curled piece of birch bark or a leaf hanging from a spider's web is proof positive that there is magic and divine benevolence in our midst.

Trees are amazing, they find a way to grow skyward and set down roots in just about any situation. I love to see their roots above ground weaving in and out of the river bank. I feel better being around them, they remind to build a strong foundation but remain flexible.

The Pheasant & The Pig: Pâté de Campagne

Did you know meatloaf has a fancy cousin from France— pâté de campagne? I'm a big fan and not just because of there is a circumflex and an acute accent in one word. The idea of combining chopped meat, spices, liquor, eggs and cream in a terrine always seemed like a good way to go. When we lived in Highland Park, one of our weekly rituals was a trip to Haskell's for slice of pâté and a bottle of wine from our friend Sheila.  Pâté seemed out of reach for a neophyte cook like myself and I never thought I could make my own meat masterpiece. Fast forward 20 years— I am no longer a neophyte (anywhere) and I make my own pâté.

One of the recipes I found called for wild boar, kind of hard to find in Northern Wisconsin. I had no idea what would be a decent substitute for a gnarly wild pig but I did know where to get some wild pheasants. I also knew where to get a half bottle of zinfandel (on the counter) and a container of duck fat (in the fridge). I simmered the pheasant for 3 hours in duck fat, wine and olive oil— a perfect storm for tender pheasant and a brilliant addition to my pâté.

Pâté de Campagne (adapted from Taste Food Blog)

1 pheasant, simmered in 375 ml red wine, 12 oz rendered duck fat & 1/2 cup olive oil for 3 hours 1 pound pork shoulder, coarsley ground 1 pound ham, coarsely chopped 3 garlic cloves, minced 2 shallots, minced 2 tsp salt 2 tsp black pepper, coarsely ground 3 tsp fresh thyme 2 tsp fresh rosemary, minced 1 teaspoon allspice 1 tsp ground coriander ½ tsp ground cloves 3/4 pound bacon, coarsely chopped 2 tbsp unsalted butter plus extra for greasing terrine 1 medium yellow onion, minced 2 eggs, lightly beaten 1/3 cup heavy cream 1/3 cup Calvados 1/3 cup shelled pistachios 1/3 cup dried cranberries

Remove all meat from the pheasant after it has cooled. If you are grinding your own meat, cut the pork in 3/4 inch cubes. Place the pork and pheasant in a large bowl. Add garlic, shallots, salt, pepper, thyme, rosemary, allspice, coriander and cloves. Mix to thoroughly coat the meat. Cover and refrigerate 6 hours or overnight. Grind with a meat grinder before proceeding.

Preheat oven to 300 F. (180 C.) Remove meat from refrigerator. Add bacon and return to refrigerator while you prepare the onions. Melt 2 tablespoons butter in a skillet over medium heat. Add onion and sauté until translucent but not brown, 6 minutes. Cool to room temperature. Stir into the meat. Combine eggs, cream and calvados in a small bowl. Add to meat and mix well.

Butter a loaf pan or terrine. Alternatively, you can line the inside of your terrine with plastic wrap. Press one-third of the meat into the terrine. Sprinkle evenly with half of the pistachios and cranberries. Press another third of the meat into the terrine. Top with remaining pistachios and cranberries. Cover with remaining meat. Cover terrine or if your terrine does not have a cover, use aluminum foil. Prick 2-3 holes in the foil.

Place terrine in a baking pan. Pour boiling water into the baking pan until halfway up the sides of the terrine. Bake in oven until meat thermometer inserted in the center reads 155 F. about 2 hours. Remove from oven and remove terrine from the water bath. Place a terrine press over the pâté (or a cutting board with cans on top) and cool completely. Transfer to refrigerator and let sit 1-2 days before serving. To serve, un-mold pâté. Scrape off any congealed fat. Cut in slices, ½ inch thick.

Gorgonzola Cheesecake & Dried Cranberry Flatbread

I've been thinking about savory cheesecake for a few years but never put thought into action. It seemed like a lot of really good ingredients to waste if it was a horrid disaster. Last month, I finally decided to quit dithering, research different recipes, grab some gorgonzola, a spring-form pan and get cooking. During my search for the perfect cheesecake, a recipe for dried pear and walnut flatbread from Christina's Cookbook caught my eye. Gorgonzola cheesecake and dried pear flatbread?? I don't know why I waited so long.

Dried Pear Flatbread (from Christina's Table by Christina Orchid)

1 tsp yeast 1 cup warm water 1 tsp salt 2 tbsp good quality olive oil 1/4 cup walnuts, chopped and toasted 1/2 cup dried pear, chopped 1/4 cup dried cranberries, chopped 1 1/2 cup unbleached white flour

In a medium bowl, add the yeast to the water and salt and let sit for a few minutes. Add the olive oil, walnuts, pear and cranberries and stir to blend. Stir in the flour and then knead for 1 minutes. Let rest for 30 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Oil a baking sheet. Divide the dough into 4 pieces. Roll each piece 1/4 to 1/2 inch thick on the baking sheet and bake for 7 minutes. The flatbreads can be any shape that fits your pan.

Gorgonzola Cheesecake (from The New England Table by Lora Brody)

1/4 cup fine dried bread crumbs 1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese 3 tablespoons unsalted butter 2 shallots, peeled and finely diced 1/2 pound (8 ounces) gorgonzola or other blue-veined cheese, crumbled 1 3/4 pounds (28 ounces) regular cream cheese (not reduced fat), at room temperature 4 extra-large eggs 1/2 cup heavy cream A few drops of Frank's Hot Sauce or other hot-pepper sauce 1/2 pound thick-cut bacon, cut into small dice and cooked until very crisp 1/2 cup oven roasted tomatoes, chopped

Preheat the oven to 300°F with the rack in the center position. Generously butter the bottom and sides of an 8 inch springform pan with 3 inch sides. Line the bottom with a circle of parchment paper; butter the parchment. Mix the bread crumbs together with 1/4 cup of the Parmesan cheese. Dust the interior of the pan with the breadcrumb mixture, allowing the excess to stay evenly distributed on the bottom of the pan. This cheesecake cooks in a water bath; to prevent water from leaking into the pan while the cheesecake bakes, place it on a 16-inch length of heavy-duty aluminum foil, gather the edges up, and wrap them around the outside of the springform, securing if necessary with a length of kitchen string tied around the outside of the pan.

Have ready a roasting pan large enough to hold the prepared springform pan. Bring a large pot of water to a boil.

Melt the 3 tablespoons butter in a small skillet set over medium heat Add the shallots and cook, stirring frequently, for about 10 minutes, or until the shallots are wilted and translucent. Set aside.

Combine the Stilton cheese, cream cheese, eggs, heavy cream, and Frank's Hot Sauce to taste in the work bowl of a food processor fitted with the metal blade and process until the mixture is completely smooth, stopping to scrape down the sides of the work bowl once or twice. Add the cooked shallots, roasted tomatoes and bacon and pulse to blend, but avoid overprocessing, as you want the bacon to create some texture in the batter.

Pour and scrape the mixture into the prepared pan. Sprinkle the remaining 1/4 cup Parmesan cheese on top. Place the springform pan in the larger roasting pan and set both in the oven. Add enough boiling water to come halfway up the sides of the springform pan. Bake the cheesecake for 1 hour and 40 minutes, checking the water bath halfway through the cooking time; add more, if necessary. At the end of the cooking time, turn off the oven and leave the door closed with the cheesecake inside. After 1 hour remove both pans, remove the foil wrapping, dry the bottom of the springform pan, and place it on a wire rack to cool completely. Do not refrigerate the cheesecake to speed the cooling process.

When the cheesecake is cool, release the sides of the pan and slide a wide metal spatula under the cake to transfer it to a serving platter. (You may opt to serve it right on the springform pan bottom. If you do, don't use a metal knife to cut the cheesecake, or you'll ruin the pan bottom and the knife.) Cut the cheesecake by slicing it with a long, thin knife that has been run under hot water and dried before slicing. (The cheesecake is best served without refrigerating it. Refrigeration makes it dense and a bit heavy. You can make it up to 1 day ahead of time and keep it at room temperature, wrapped tightly in plastic wrap.)

Harvest Moon

Photographing the moon has been a super irritating adventure for me. See the above photo? I have 34 other ones exactly like it, a blindingly bright orb and not much else. Since the harvest moon is the full moon nearest the autumnal equinox, I desperately wanted to capture a decent picture of it. The main problem was Will (my in-house photographic expert) was at the homecoming football game and I had to rely on my google search of 'how to shoot the moon' to point me in the right direction. This guy (link here) had the magic formula— f/11 and 1/250. The picture of the bloody vampire initially turned me off but I'm glad I kept reading. It's amazing what following the directions will do for a girl.

Lowertown Photo Safari

The kids and I spent a couple hours in Lowertown, taking pictures and walking down memory lane. We wandered into the warehouse where we lived when Jack was born. Sawatdee and a school for deaf children used to be on the main floor and I remember walking in, smelling Thai food (which got really old after a while) and seeing little kids excitedly signing on their way to their classrooms. It hasn't changed much, maybe a little cleaner and they have a mailroom now but it still smells like dinner is cooking— Lenny Russo's restaurant, Heartland, has the entire main floor. I doubt the smell of Heartland's food would ever get old, it's a great restaurant.

When we lived at the Cosmopolitan, we owned a basset hound named Lucy who was resolutely opposed to housetraining. She ruined our carpet in the apartment so Ted, showing the first signs of his all around handy-ness, tore it up and refinished the hardwood. We had the only apartment (there were 250) with beautiful bird's-eye maple floors, thanks to Lucy. Like they say, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade (or tear up the carpet and start over). Ironically, Lucy hated walking on the hardwood and would jump from rug to rug with a long suffering look on her face. Our names are in the closet under 5 layers of varnish, I wonder if they're still there?

There was a piano in Mears Park, not sure what that was all about, maybe cultural enrichment?? I bought Guinness, my Newfie, when we lived in Lowertown and we spent many, many hours in the park. There were pigeons (Jack used to call them chickens), people sitting on the benches, buses roaring by trying to make the light on 5th and Wacouta and dogs on leashes in the park. Not much has changed and it felt good.

The Gopher Bar— cheap beer (at least it used to be) and coney dogs. We would walk up once a week, order a pitcher of beer and power down a couple coney dogs. If I tried that now, I would have heartburn for days and an extra 25 pounds on my backside. Ah, how I miss the rigorous digestive system and metabolism of my youth.

Cheddar & Parmesan Savory Shortbread

I can live without cookies, cake and chocolate but take cheese away and I just might expire on the spot. When I bought Laura Werlin's The All American Cheese and Wine Cookbook and found a recipe for cheese shortbread crackers, I knew I had just met my newest favorite recipe. This was a 'slice and bake' cookie I could get behind— butter, parmesan and cheddar with Maldon sea salt on top, what's not to love?

Cheddar Parmesan Shortbread Crackers (from Laura Werlin's The All American Cheese and Wine Cookbook)

4 ounces cheddar cheese, coarsely grated 2 ounces parmesan cheese, finely grated 3/4 cup flour 1/4 tsp dry mustard (I use Coleman's) 1/4 tsp kosher salt 1/8 tsp cayenne pepper 4 tbsp unsalted butter, softened and cut into small pieces 2 tbsp water, plus more if needed

In the bowl of a food processor, place all ingredients except the butter and water. Pulse 5 times. Add the butter and pulse again until the butter pieces are the size of BB's. Add the water, 1 tbsp at a time, and pulse just until the dough holds together. If the dough is still crumbly, add more water 1 teaspoon at a time until it reaches the right consistency.

Turn the dough out onto a large piece of waxed paper. Roll the dough into a log, 9 to 10 inches long, and square off the ends. Refrigerate, well wrapped, for at least 2 hours and up to 2 days. Or freeze it for up to 1 month.

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

To make the crackers, cut the log into 1/4 inch slices. Arrange the slices on a baking sheet 1 inch apart. Bake for 8 to 10 minutes, or until the crackers are a light golden color. Flip the crackers, sprinkle Maldon sea salt on top and bake for an additional 3 to 5 minutes, or until they are golden around the edges. Cool on a rack and serve at room temperature.

Makes about 3 dozen crackers.

Thai Chicken Salad In A Jar

My last meal in a Mason jar was Thai chicken salad but this time we ate it at home, in front of the fire. We had planned to go out to Rocky Island for a last hurrah of summer. We got as far as Basswood. The skies opened up and it poured (hard and steady) until the afternoon. We did stop at Basswood, went for a rain-soaked hike through the woods and beat a hasty retreat for home and dry clothes. I guess we should have had our hurrahs on Sunday when it was warm and sunny.

Thai chicken salad needs two things to shine: rice noodles and really, really good peanut sauce. I could, and sometimes do, eat peanut sauce by the spoonful and consider myself a peanut sauce connoisseur (if there is such a thing). It should have a good balance of sweet, sour and spicy flavors as well as a consistency similar to heavy whipping cream. You can put just about anything in this salad— I used roasted chicken, green onion, cucumbers, carrots, sliced purple cabbage, thick rice noodles and garnished with chopped cilantro and peanuts. Ultimately, it's a pasta salad and the variations are endless.

Thai Peanut Sauce

19 ounces full fat coconut milk

1 1/4 cups unsweetened and natural peanut butter

3 tbsp Thai red curry paste (Mae Ploy)

2 tbsp soy sauce (Healthy Boy Thin Soy Sauce)

2 tsp fish sauce (Squid)

2 tbsp chile garlic

4 tbsp sweet chili sauce (Mae Ploy)

Juice of one lime

2 tbsp apple cider vinegar

2 tbsp toasted sesame oil

2 tbsp chopped ginger

3 garlic cloves minced 1 cup water

Put everything into a medium heavy-bottomed pot and bring to a very gentle boil over medium heat, whisking constantly. Let the mixture simmer for 3-5 minutes over low heat; stirring occasionally.  Take the pot off the heat, let the sauce cool down to room temperature, serve immediately. The sauce can be served hot or cold and will keep for two weeks in the refrigerator.

Smoked Pheasant Takes A Bath In Duck Fat

One of the reasons Ted finally caved in and decided we needed our fourth dog, the illustrious George, was he wanted a hunting dog. Well, George decided he preferred a different path and Ted still hunts, just not with his own highly trained hunting dog. The good news is, even sans hunting dog, we always have pheasant in the freezer.

I didn't have any experience with game birds before Ted started bringing them home. I knew to check the bird for stray shot but had no idea the head (with the feathers, beak and eyes) was still attached. I took one look at the green head with red ringed eyes, shouted something not terribly lady-like and took a few moments to gather myself. I remember standing at the sink and thinking if Julia Child can behead a chicken (I had just finished reading Julie and Julia), I certainly should be able to take care of the pheasant sitting in my sink. I grabbed my kitchen shears, removed his head and put him in the oven. That was over 5 years ago, I'm a professional pheasant beheader now.

My worst meal of all time involved a couple pheasants I made to impress my brother, Tom. I thought a traditional Normandy braise with Calvados, apples and cream would be lovely (recipe here). The pheasant was as tough as shoe leather, and not nice shoe leather, more like gnarly work boot leather. The next day I did a little research and realized it was not the recipe, it was the cook. I overcooked those poor little pheasants and not even cream and bacon could bring them back.

When I smoke pheasant, I make sure there is plenty of fat every step of the way. I start by brining the bird for 24 hours, wrap it in bacon (called barding) before it goes into the smoker and then it gets an overnight bath in a mixture of olive oil, red wine and duck fat. Lesson learned— pheasants are lean birds who are constantly on the run for their life, a little fat makes all the difference.

Smoked Pheasant

Brine

8 cups water 3/4 cup kosher salt 1 cup brown sugar 1/4 cup maple syrup 1 onion, chopped 1 orange, chopped 4 cloves garlic 2 Thai red chili peppers or 1 tbsp red pepper flakes 3 or 4 sprigs of fresh thyme 2 sprigs of fresh rosemary 2 pheasants

Add the salt to the water and bring to a boil. Add the rest of the ingredients (except the pheasant) and let cool until it is at room temperature. Add the pheasant, put it in the refrigerator and brine overnight or up to 24 hours.

Smoking The Pheasant

8 pieces of thick cut bacon 2 pheasants, brined, rinsed and patted dry Apple wood, soaked in water for 1 hour prior to smoking

Wrap 4 pieces of bacon around each pheasant, ensuring the majority of the bird is covered in bacon. Smoke at 200 degrees for 2 1/2 - 3 hours, until the breast meat reaches 165 degrees.

Duck Fat, Olive Oil & Red Wine Bath

12 ounces rendered duck fat 6 ounces olive oil 1 1/2 cup red wine

Combine all ingredients in a saucepan and heat thoroughly. Put the pheasant in a pan large enough to hold them in one layer. Pour the duck fat mixture over the pheasants, cover and refrigerate overnight.

Remove the bacon and discard. Take all the meat off the birds and serve with a blueberry balsamic chutney (recipe here).

Balsamic Blueberry Chutney

Since the jam making went so well, I decided to expand my canning horizons and try chutney (no pectin needed). I bought white balsamic vinegar last year at Bill's Imports and thought blueberry balsamic chutney would be the perfect companion for pheasant, turkey or blue cheese.

Balsamic Blueberry Chutney

7 cups blueberries, rinsed 2 cups dried red currants 2 cups golden raisins 2 cups dried cranberries 2 cups white balsamic vinegar 1 red onion, chopped 1 yellow onion, chopped 2 1/2 cups raw sugar 1 tbsp red pepper flakes 2 cinnamon sticks 3/4 tsp ground cloves

Add all ingredients to a large pot and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to low and simmer, stirring occasionally, for 30 - 45 minutes, until mixture is thick. At this point, you can cool completely and it will keep in the refrigerator, covered, for up to a week.

You can also ladle hot jam into hot sterilized jars, leaving 1/4-inch headspace. Wipe rims of the jars, cover with lids, and screw bands on until just barely tight. Place jars on rack in pot and cover completely with water. Cover pot and bring to a boil over high heat. Boil for 10 minutes. Turn off heat, uncover pot, and allow jars to rest in water for five minutes. Remove jars from pot and allow them to rest undisturbed on countertop for six hours or overnight.

I lost count of how many half pint jars I canned but I think it was about 15. This recipe makes a lot of chutney!

Shooting In Irvine Park

Ted and I had our wedding reception at Forepaugh's— Irvine Park and the fountain sit right below the restaurant. We lived in Lowertown for years and Jack, Will, Lucy (our naughty basset hound) and I would walk to Irvine Park and then onto Dairy Queen on West 7th. Lucy liked cake cones, Jack liked blue Mr Mistys and Will was a little man who didn't eat ice cream yet. I still can see Jack running up to the fountain and throwing acorns and sticks in it and Will, with blond hair, sitting in the stroller smiling. It was good to remember those tender days when we were starting out and realize it worked out far better than we could have dreamed back then.

I used to work at the St Paul Companies and would walk to Irvine Park on my lunch break to sit by the fountain. This is the very same bench I used to sit at when I was pregnant with Jack. I've always sought out running water, even if it meant walking 8 blocks for 10 minutes under the trees and by the fountain. I never dreamed I would have these five people in my life but I thank every lucky star I can find, every day, for them.

Blue Vista Blueberries & Blueberry Orange Jam

Judging from the bushes at Blue Vista Farm, it was a good year for blueberries. We picked over 40 pounds, brought them home and realized 40 pounds is A LOT of blueberries. We froze some, ate some and decided to make jam. Sounds easy, right? Boil some berries, add sugar and pectin and call me Mrs Smucker with jars of jam in a row. We had a few detours on the road to jam perfection. After a few phone calls, a chance meeting at the IGA with the local jam guru and internet searches, we did end up with pretty little jars of jam in a row.

My Mom has been making jams and jellies for years, one of the benefits of owning a raspberry farm. My kids refer to it as, "Nana's jelly' and since we moved away, we can't stock up whenever we run out. It was time we learned to make our own jam. Sadie went on the internet and researched a few recipes (she settled on this recipe from Paula Deen) and I found a recipe for blueberry jam with orange and ginger. We went down to the IGA, bought some pectin, jars and sugar and armed with our recipes, started to make our first batch of jam.

Road block number one soon presented itself. Sadie's recipe called for liquid pectin and my recipe called for low sugar pectin. I had no idea there were choices in pectin land and I bought the powdered Sure-Jell in the yellow box because that was what my Mom used. Sadie tried to find a conversion for liquid to powdered pectin on Google but didn't have much luck so we decided to 'wing it'. Which led to road block number two— there is no 'winging it' with jam making. We thought Deen's recipe had too much sugar and I decided to substitute half the sugar in my recipe with honey. Little did I know there is an important relationship between pectin and sugar— too little sugar or pectin results in a sauce for ice cream or pancakes, not jam for toast.

At this point, Sadie called Nana. The jam was super runny and we weren't sure if we should put it in the water bath and hope for the best or start over. Nana suggested adding more pectin and sugar, putting it in the jars and at the very least, blueberry sauce is good on ice cream. The next morning, we flipped the jars over, hoping for a solid mass of blueberry jam. No such luck, it was a little thicker but still runny. I decided to crack open all the jars, add more pectin and 'fix it'. Road block number three— it's tough to fix syrupy jam.

I went back to the IGA to buy more pectin. This time, I bought the liquid kind, thinking maybe it was the missing link. I ran into Nancy, the jam guru, and shared my tale of woe with her. Her first questions was, 'did you follow the directions?'. Remember the second road block, the 'winging it' one? I sheepishly admitted not only did we not follow the directions, we even made a few alterations. Her parting words were something like— honey, always follow the directions when making jam and I headed up the hill to try and get the jam to gel.

It worked, kind of. I opened all the jars, added more pectin until it looked more jelly like and gave it another bath in boiling water. Sadie's jam didn't completely gel and my jam eventually did set up (I think liquid pectin was the missing link). It all tastes good and looks beautiful. I love seeing all our jam lined up on the shelf. They are the result of a warm August afternoon picking blueberries at a friend's farm and an evening in the kitchen with the girls canning our first batch of jam. Another chapter in our family story, that's always a good thing.

Blueberry Orange Ginger Jam (Adapted from Serious Eats)

8 cups fresh blueberries 2 1/2 cups white sugar 2 cups honey 2 packages of Sure-Jell regular pectin Grated zest of one large orange 1/2 cup orange juice, freshly sueezed 1 tbsp ginger, grated 2 tbsp crystallized ginger, minced 1/2 tsp butter

If you are going to preserve jam, prepare jars and lids: place 8 half-pint jars on rack in large pot. Add enough water to cover jars, and bring to boil over high heat. Boil for 10 minutes, then turn off heat and allow jars to rest in the hot water. Meanwhile, put bands and lids in small saucepan and cover with water. Heat over medium heat until the water is simmering, then remove pan from heat and allow bands and lids to rest in hot water until ready to use.

Working in batches if necessary, pulse blueberries in blender until coarsely crushed. You should have about 6 cups.

Measure 2 1/4 cups of sugar and 2 cups of honey in one bowl. In another bowl, combine remaining 1/4 cup sugar and pectin.

Zest and juice orange. You should have 1/2 cup juice.

Combine blueberries, orange zest and juice, granted ginger, and crystallized ginger in large, heavy saucepan or stockpot. Stir in sugar-pectin mixture. Bring to a boil over high heat, stirring constantly.

Add remaining sugar all at once. Stir in butter and return to a full rolling boil. Boil for one minute. Remove jam from heat and skim off any foam from surface.

Ladle hot jam into hot sterilized jars, leaving 1/4-inch headspace. Wipe rims of the jars, cover with lids, and screw bands on until just barely tight. Place jars on rack in pot and cover completely with water. Cover pot and bring to a boil over high heat. Boil for 10 minutes. Turn off heat, uncover pot, and allow jars to rest in water for five minutes. Remove jars from pot and allow them to rest undisturbed on countertop for six hours or overnight.

An Afternoon With Tom & Jen

I knew it going to be a wonderful afternoon when Tom said, Domaine Serene and double magnum, in the same breath. What was even better was spending a few hours with my nieces, nephew, Tom, Jen and Maddie— their sock eating black lab.

There was dinner that night and swiss chard played a supporting roll. I wasn't entirely sure what to do with it but figured sautéing it in olive oil with onion, garlic and white wine made sense. I added some of the pepita parsley pesto (recipe here) and chopped fresh tomatoes and called it good. Beth Dooley has a great basic recipe for sautéed swiss chard, just add the pepita pesto and tomato when you add the leaves to the sauté pan and you can call it good too.

Roasted Roots

If there was a theme for the summer of 2012, carrots and what to do with them would be a strong contender. We ate them raw, in cakes and quick breads, roasted in the oven, in soup, and grilled. My favorite was roasted— cut the carrots into slices, add herb salt (recipe here) and olive oil and roast at 400 degrees for 20 - 25 minutes. Use a sheet pan large enough so the carrots can be in a single layer without touching— this ensures they will caramelize properly. Hopefully, there will be a few carrots at the farmers market next Saturday, I really want to try my hand at Indian spiced carrot pickles. Maybe the carrot theme will continue into the fall of 2012??

We had a party for Ted's Mom, Anne, before she left at the end of August. I had the carrot portion of the evening covered, now it was time to think about the salad. I had picked up beets at the farmers market in Bayfield earlier in the day, Meg picked a couple cucumbers at Julie's house and I had some of Michael's Buttin' Heads feta in the refrigerator— the salad was taking shape nicely. Salad protocol is pretty simple: something green and leafy, a few vegetables or fruits and a dressing. The room for interpretation is vast and can result in something really tasty.

Spinach Salad with Roasted Beets, Oranges & Pistachios

8 - 10 ounces spinach 4 roasted beets,peeled and sliced 2 oranges, peeled and sliced into 1 inch pieces 1 cucumber, sliced into 1 inch pieces 1/2 cup pistachios 1/2 cup feta, crumbled

Salad Dressing

1/4 cup shallot, finely chopped 1 tbsp Dijon mustard 4 tbsp red wine vinegar 1/2 cup good olive oil salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

Add all salad ingredients to a bowl. Add everything but the olive oil to a blender or food processor and process until smooth. Add olive oil (with machine running) in a steady stream. Just before serving, lightly toss the salad with just enough dressing to coat the greens and serve immediately.

Farmers Market Nirvana

We lived in Lowertown for seven years and the Farmers Market was a weekly ritual in the summer. Looking back, I am not sure we fully realized how lucky we were to live a block from heaping piles of fresh vegetables. We went to the market when we were in St. Paul last month and it is hasn't changed much.  The same woman is still selling A Toast To Bread baguettes and boules, there are still baskets of tomatoes under the tables, strollers are still used as battering rams and people still wander the aisles with bags of fresh vegetables in each hand.

Red Kuri squash— my favorite squash for stuffing with sausage, dried cranberries, bread crumbs and Gruyere cheese.

We lived in a loft overlooking the market when Jack was born and it was the first place we took him after we left the hospital. I used to stand at the window at 3 or 4 in the morning with my new little Jack and watch the farmers set up. It provided solace for my sleep deprived spirit to see other people were awake in the middle of the night. It's hard to believe it was eighteen years ago; time has wings and flies faster the older I get. Walking among the stalls, I felt a flood of memories sweep over me. This market gave me lots of 'firsts'— basil for homemade pesto, tomatoes for marinara sauce, zucchini for bread and green beans for roasting. What a gift to not only remember but to re-visit the place where we started.

Peter's Gazpacho In Tom's Kitchen

When Peter, a good friend and good cook, made gazpacho and invited us for dinner, I knew it was going to be fantastic. His Mom got the recipe from the LA Times in the late 70's and he's been making it for years. Peter handed me the recipe as I was leaving and it's one I'll treasure. He had emailed his sister for the recipe and her response included an update on her daughter's impending delivery. Every time I make gazpacho, I will think of Peter, his Mom and the baby that was born a few days after our dinner. When I was in Minneapolis a few weeks later, I knew exactly what to make for my family.

We spent the afternoon at my brother, Tom's, house and it was just what I needed. I am a homebody (more accurately, a kitchenbody) at heart and while I love eating in restaurants, I hadn't spent any time in a kitchen for two days and I missed it. I knew I wanted to make gazpacho and knew cooking with Tom would be a blast. He has three little girls and his house reminds me of our house when the kids were little— laughter, chaos and a few screams thrown in for good measure. There were eight kids running through the kitchen and I was in heaven.

We went to the St Paul Farmers Market and bought some of the most beautiful vegetables I had seen all summer. The colors and textures were astounding. There was a rainbow of purple carrots, bright green basil, yellow tomatoes and red peppers going into the soup; it was shaping up to be an extraordinary batch of gazpacho.

Tom is number three in the family line-up and he had the good (or bad, depending on who you ask) fortune of being born between five sisters. My other brother, Michael, is number seven and at 14 years younger than Tom, not much help in mitigating all that sisterly energy. To say Tom has been a good sport would be an understatement. Thankfully, he has forgiven or forgotten most of it (I am Cait's godmother, after all) and we have a great time when we get together. He is a great cook, has really nice knives and is super tidy in the kitchen— I was so happy to be at his house.

I was at Bill's Imports before I went to Tom's and picked up some pepitas for parsley pepita pesto (recipe here) on Epicurious. It was perfect for the gazpacho.

Peter's Gazpacho

4 cups V8 Juice 1/4 cup chili sauce 2 tbsp red wine vinegar 2 tbsp tarragon, minced 1 tbsp basil, minced 1 tbsp lime juice 1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce 1 tsp salt 1/2 tsp mace 2 tbsp olive oil 1 clove garlic, minced 1 tbsp cilantro, minced 2 tsp parsley, minced 1 cup tomatoes, peeled, chopped and seeded 16 ounce can on Ro-tel 1/2 cup onion, chopped 1/2 cup cucumber, peeled, chopped and seeded 1/2 cup celery, minced 1/2 cup red pepper, minced 1/3 cup cooked carrots, minced

Add everything to a large pot and stir to combine. It should sit for a couple hours to let the flavors develop, taste for salt before serving. I made a seasoned sour cream (add chopped cilantro, minced garlic and lime juice to sour cream) to serve on top of the gazpacho with the pepita pesto.

A Ritual To Read To Each Other

This morning, I was in the basement attempting to make sense of the piles of clothes, socks and towels that resembled a small mountain range. Since the basement is NOT my favorite place to be, I thought listening to MPR might make my task more enjoyable. Eboo Patel, founder of InterFaith Youth Core, was offering his perspective on religious intolerance and the resulting violence we read and hear about every day. At the end of his interview, he quoted a portion of the last stanza of William Stafford's poem, 'A Ritual To Read To Each Other'. I stopped sorting clothes and let the phrase, 'For it is important awake people be awake' sit with me. What does it mean to be awake?

The mountain range of clothes kept me in the basement for the majority of the afternoon and I had plenty of time to think about Stafford's poem. I am awake when I am walking on the beach with the dogs, making cream cheese wontons with Charlie and Meghan, going on photo safaris with Will and Sadie on the Little Sioux River, watching Ted and Jack laugh about Henry's snoring or catching a glance of the lake on my way to pick up the kids at school. What awakens me can be as simple as planting a garden or as complex as protecting Lake Superior. It comes down to stewardship and legacy— how will I protect what I love and how will I leave it for my children and grandchildren. Poems like Stafford's remind me to be awake, listen with an open heart, watch the horizon and do everything I can to ensure truth will light the darkness.

A Ritual To Read To Each Other

If you don't know the kind of person I am and I don't know the kind of person you are a pattern that others made may prevail in the world and following the wrong god home we may miss our star.

For there is many a small betrayal in the mind, a shrug that lets the fragile sequence break sending with shouts the horrible errors of childhood storming out to play through the broken dyke.

And as elephants parade holding each elephant's tail, but if one wanders the circus won't find the park, I call it cruel and maybe the root of all cruelty to know what occurs but not recognize the fact.

And so I appeal to a voice, to something shadowy, a remote important region in all who talk: though we could fool each other, we should consider— lest the parade of our mutual life get lost in the dark.

For it is important that awake people be awake, or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep; the signals we give— yes or no, or maybe— should be clear: the darkness around us is deep.

William Stafford

The Great Minnesota Get Together

Where else can you go and see a women carving another woman's face in a gigantic brick of butter? Nowhere (that I know of) other than the Minnesota State Fair. We haven't been to the 'great Minnesota get together' for about 5 years and not much has changed. There were still millions of people, food stands every two feet and lots of livestock thrown in for good measure.

There are a few places I tend to avoid like the plague: the Mall of America, Old Country Buffet, any beach anywhere with flies and the Minnesota State Fair. There was one hitch with my State Fair avoidance— my kids and sisters love it. I decided to take one for the team, put on my sensible shoes and head out to join my fellow Minnesotans in St Paul.

We had a tremendous amount of fun, ate a tremendous amount of food and did a tremendous amount of walking. The best food I ate was at the beginning of our State Fair Adventure 2012— Australian battered potatoes with sour cream and sweet chili sauce. I don't know what the Australians do to their potatoes but they were definitely onto something special— fantastic!

The fried pickles were a big attraction for our group. I ordered the gourmet pickle (basically a fried pickle sandwich with cream cheese in the middle) and it was just what I expected— a pickley, salty, creamy version of a fried Oreo.

As a kid, I loved the horse barn. I loved it as much as an adult. I think it was draft horse day because the majority of the horses were enormous and sturdy.

We walked out of the horse barn and into the holding area for a 4-H event with white cows (or steers, I am not entirely sure what the distinction is).

Three Holsteins in a row— beautiful symmetry.

Walking up the staircase with a scratchy piece of burlap and waiting for the signal to fly down the slide was something I looked forward to all day when I was little.

Fried alligator, frozen grapes and sugar-free lemonade. If there were an award for the strangest combination of food, Bayou Bob would definitely be in the running. Although, I don't know what was offered with the deep-fried lamb testicles. If it was a mint jelly smoothie, Bayou Bob may need to take it up a notch.

The grilled corn was a hit with the group. I think we all felt eating a vegetable after the onslaught of fried and sugary food we had eaten all day was a good choice.

We are State Fair connoisseurs about two things: cheese curds (The Original Deep-Fried Cheese Curds) and mini-doughnuts (Tom Thumb). We were headed out to our car when we walked by the Tom Thumb stand and realized, a trip to the Fair is not complete without tiny doughnuts coated in cinnamon sugar. We bought four bags and left the fair with full bellies and sugary fingers.

Pretty Peppers

I will never tire of fresh vegetables— the colors, textures, shapes and smells are endlessly fascinating. I bought these pretty peppers on a hot August afternoon, a little piece of summer in my camera.

Grilled Corn & Crema Mexicana

What could possibly make the Corn Man's sweet corn even better? Crema mexicana and queso fresco, that's what. My brother, Tom, has turned me on to lots of things: oysters at the Oceanaire, good music, MAC knives and now, crema mexicana with chipotle power. Brushing grilled corn with spiced crema and coating it with queso fresco is my new favorite thing.

Spiced Crema Mexicana & Queso Fresco

1/2 cup crema mexicana (I used Cacique) 1/2 tsp chipotle powder 1/2 tsp Tajin Classico Seasoning 1/4 cup cilantro, chopped 1/2 cup ques0 fresco, crumbled salt and pepper to taste

Mix everything but the queso fresco in bowl until combined. Add salt and/or pepper if necessary. Brush crema on corn immediately after it comes off the grill and sprinkle queso on all sides of the corn.