Real tomato ketchup, Eddie?

I could write about the wonderful fall colors that are quickly disappearing. I could even take some photos. I could write about the beautiful weather we're having, how we've gone nearly two weeks without rain (which, by the way, is a good thing). I could write about the multitude of green tomatoes I harvested nearly two weeks ago before the first big frost hit, which have been sitting on a table top in the entry way and have now suddenly decided to ripen, the day before we leave for Nebraska to attend The Hermit's daughter's wedding. That's right, I'm actually crossing state lines, and not just a quick foray into Wisconsin, which doesn't really count. I don't remember the last time I have been so far from home!

But, speaking of tomatoes, I wanted to share a culinary discovery I made last night. Of course I most likely did not discover it, there are probably a million recipes out there on the Internet, but I thought it was pretty cool. As I was preparing our baseball playoff celebratory meal (Go Twins!) of hot dogs, I suddenly realized we were almost OUT OF KETCHUP! Surrounded by ripe tomatoes, but no ketchup! I can stand a hot dog with mustard only, but when you're watching baseball it just ain't right.

While I was weighing the options, the least appealing of which was driving ten miles to the store, I recalled that I usually keep a small can of tomato paste in the pantry. Hmmm....What is ketchup, but tomato paste plus a few other flavorings? Using the ingredient list from the near-empty bottle of Annie's organic ketchup as my guide, I started mixing. A little vinegar here, a little Worcestershire sauce there, onion powder...Voila! Ketchup! I don't have an exact recipe to share, but those are the essential ingredients. Most commercial ketchups contain a lot more sugar or high fructose corn syrup than they actually need; I added a tiny pinch of sugar but it would have been fine without.

I don't have a laptop so I won't be blogging from the road, but maybe I'll have some time to compose some rough drafts with pen and paper. Have a great weekend!

Homegrown watermelon...in December

I never thought I would have a blog post with that title. For one thing, before this year I had never succeeded at growing even one watermelon (Although I don't remember if I had even given it a try). And, had I succeeded, I thought watermelon would be something to enjoy in the warm days of late summer. I had never heard of watermelons storing over two months!

It turns out I inadvertently stored a watermelon for more than two months after I brought it in from the garden when the first hard frost was threatening. I put it in with a crate of winter squash. It was not a very big watermelon, mind you, or I would have noticed it and perhaps consumed it earlier. It was about seven inches in diameter.

Today I had to rearrange my utility room/pantry to make room for the laundry sink drain that the plumber came over to install. (Hooray!) While in the midst of moving things here and there I noticed the watermelon among the squashes. I was tempted to just toss it out the back door, like I have with some winter squashes that have gone bad already, but I paused. This watermelon was still firm and gave a nice "thump" when I tapped it. So I brought it to the kitchen and sliced it open.

I was greeted with the most sweet smelling, tender ivory yellow watermelon flesh I had ever seen. I sliced off a thin piece and cautiously tasted it... wow. Best. watermelon. ever. This is not hyperbole. It really was divine.

To be eating homegrown watermelon in December is one miracle. To have found something so good it defies description and gives me hope for next year's garden is another. This was even better than eating a homegrown tomato in December!

The variety was "Cream of Saskatchewan", an 80-day watermelon we got from Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds. With its incredible flavor and storage ability, I hope to grow lots of these next year.

homegrown spaghetti squash

Doesn't have the ring to it like "homegrown tomatoes", does it? But this is probably the week where I'll enjoy the last of the homegrown tomatoes and move on to more durable storage things, like squash.

I did not end up with a lot of winter squash from my garden this year. However, a coworker started leaving bags of produce at my desk, by my car, everywhere, and among them was an abundance of winter squash. Mostly butternut and acorn, which are delectable and good keepers. I have probably over fifty pounds of edible squash flesh in my pantry and I am grateful.

I did manage, however, to produce a few spaghetti squash. This was my first year growing them, and considering the other varieties I planted didn't justify their space in the garden, I am impressed at the productivity of the spaghetti variety.

I must take issue with the name thing. While, when cooked, they do produce strands of flesh that may resemble a pasta product, the flavor is much more sublime than noodles, which are really just an excuse to pour on the sauce. I would never overwhelm the delicate flavor of spaghetti squash with a heavy pasta sauce. A little butter and salt and pepper, maybe garlic will do just fine, thank you.

They are really easy to cook too. The hardest part is cutting one in half, which I may have to resort to a kitchen size chain saw for. Once it is cut, by whatever means, scoop out the seeds, then spread a little butter or olive oil over the halves, put some water in the bottom of the pan, and bake at 375 for about an hour. Then take a fork and tease out the strands of cooked squash. Season as desired. That's it. We had them with boneless pork chops and rotini tonight (just because Mr. Attitude will eat more of anything when it is served with pasta!)

Robin!

Yes, I saw my first robin since Christmas today. It was in the 50's here. Spring has arrived. :)

I took a nice run/walk this morning and the new header photo is one of the results. I had to spend way too much time loading Kodak Easyshare, which somehow disappeared from our hard drive, so by the time I was done with that I didn't feel like blogging about my walk. I'll try to do it tomorrow.

I have a new post up on Under the Blue Roof. I have lots more ideas for posts there, so stay tuned.

Tonight I'm cooking stuffed pork chops, probably with peas and an oriental cabbage salad. I actually made out a meal plan for the entire week, and meat is thawing in the refrigerator. I guess spring weather does that to me.

UPDATE: There is enough leftover pork to make fried rice tomorrow! Which bumps my meal plan, which I guess is okay.

Unconnected for a day

Our broadband connection was out at work today. Since I was the only one in the office for most of the day I juggled calls between our Internet provider and our department IT guy. I'm glad the IT guy volunteered to talk to the support staff at the Internet provider, because I really don't know anything about this voodoo. They finally pinpointed the problem to the router(isn't that a woodcrafting tool for making edges and signs?) and hopefully we will have a new one in place tomorrow.

I felt lost. I had projects to work on that did not require connection with the outside world, but being connected has become an integral part of my normal work day when I am in the office. I think back to ten years ago, when dialup was a new thing at the office and most of us weren't on GroupWise. So much has changed. Now I would rather email than make a phone call any day.

But mostly I missed browsing blogs. I don't want to stay out here in the chilly cabin for too long, so I won't catch up tonight. Hopefully I'll be connected some time tomorrow.

And, in other notes, please don't ever buy Shurfine brand Italian sausage. All three of my kids and I independently came up with the conclusion that it tastes like what cow excrement smells like. Really. I was looking forward to a good dinner, and it turned to crap. Most of the sausage got fed to the outside cats, who are hungry enough to not care what the stuff they are eating tastes like. Of course, I'll be calling the store tomorrow. I hate doing that, wish me luck!

Part 3: Let the music play!

I had a few necessary tasks to do on this work holiday. The worst was to "make some space" in our outhouse, which we use as a composting toilet. The trouble in the winter is, every deposit freezes solid and takes up a lot more space than if it had just composted and evaporated down like it does in summer. So I hand picked (with a bag over my gloved hand) two 5 gallon buckets of stuff and carried them to the compost bin. Nuff said.

After I washed dishes and completely reorganized my kitchen shelves, it was time to jam. When I went to my banjo lesson on Saturday I bought Tony Trischka's Banjo Song Book, because it looked like it had a wide variety of stuff to learn. I didn't look at the copyright date 1977 when I bought it, but when I saw a photo of a very young Bela Fleck, still in his teenage years, described very prophetically as "the crest of the wave of the future (of banjo)", I realized this was a dated, but timeless book. I have learned perhaps more from it than I have learned music, on any instrument, from any other source. I have realized that I want to play melodic banjo, not straight Scruggs or clawhammer. I have even learned the differences between these styles! I am ordering a copy of Trischka's "Melodic Banjo" book tonight.

Tonight's meal was a delectable bean soup, made with the bone from our New Year's ham. The kids even asked for seconds.

Real butter from a family cow

We have been enjoying a treat this week. When we visited Tom and Sal on Friday, they gave us some homemade butter from their cow, Annabelle. (What a name--it doesn't get any better than that!) It is the creamiest, richest, smoothest butter I have ever tasted. Even the kids can taste the difference between it and store-bought butter.

I grew up on margarine, mainly because it was cheaper than butter. When I started getting interested in dietary issues, the "experts" were still promoting margarine as healthier, and I believed it. But when I was married, my husband refused to eat anything but the real thing, so I gradually became a convert to butter. I also began finding out that what the "experts" say isn't always true, especially when the "experts" are supported by the corporations that produce our so-called food. Now I am convinced that butter, being a substance that can be processed by anyone with a cow, or even a pint of cream from the store, is naturally superior to anything that has to be processed in a factory, never mind the fact that it just plain tastes better.

Russ told his mother about how good the fresh butter was, and she instantly understood what he was talking about. She grew up in rural South Carolina and still has an appreciation for the simple, good things that life had to offer. I have a feeling, however, that if I told my mother or grandmother about it, they would only tell about how much work it was to milk the cow and make butter. Some things are worth the effort.

I want a cow.