Tip-to-Root Eating

You've undoubtedly heard of nose-to-tail eating which involves using every possible part of an animal and thus minimizing waste. It seems all the rage at farm-to-table restaurants where you can order such delicacies as whole pig head, smoked tongue, pork paté, pickled pig's feet, smoked jowl, chitlins, even fried ears.

I'm trying to apply the same concept to my garden, but I call it tip-to-root eating. It seems to me that it takes a fair amount of the earth's resources to grow vegetables and I should make use of all parts, rather than chopping off the tops (or bottoms) and then throwing the rest away (or composting it). It just seems the right thing to do: the thing that demonstrates good stewardship for my garden's output.

I credit Tamar Adler with changing the way I cook. Her book An Everlasting Meal is a beautiful meditation on cooking and eating.  She's a believer in using the parts of vegetables that we may routinely throw away.

I'll never again look at bolted cilantro or dill flowers as evidence that they are past their prime and ready for my compost pile. Instead, I'll place them on top of salads, garnish a soup with them, or tuck them into a flower arrangement. Carrot tops, radish leaves, squash seeds, pea tendrils, green tomatoes, cilantro seeds and sweet potato leaves are all finding their way into my cooking.

I'm not the only one on this bandwagon. Here's an article from the New York Times that touts the virtues of using all parts of a vegetable. I love the title: That's Not Trash, That's Dinner.  The end of the article lists a number of uses for your vegetable trimmings.

Here's an example of my tip-to-root approach. This week I harvested the majority of my beet crop.

I brought the haul into my kitchen and washed the dirt off, cut off the beets, and prepared them for roasting.

I then turned my attention to the greens, which I washed in batches and spun dry. It breaks my heart to see topless beets at the farmers' market. I'll find ways to use them all week. They are my favorite greens.

Next, I tackled the stems. I'm planning to stir fry some of them, but the rest I chopped into 1/2-inch pieces and pickled in a red wine/vinegar brine. They will add a bit of crunch and tang to sandwiches or salads.

And the beets got canned. (See recipe below.)

I did end up taking a bucket of beet skins out to the compost, but even those will find a use by improving my garden soil next year.

So next time you go to the farmers' market or out to your garden, I hope you will think twice before tossing parts and pieces of your beautiful fruits, herbs and vegetables.

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Red Wine Pickled Beets
Makes 4 pints

Ingredients
3 lbs. beets
Olive Oil
Salt

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Trim away beet greens. Nestle beets in a baking pan and coat with a splash of olive oil and a few generous pinches of salt. Cover with aluminum foil and roast for 1 hour, or until beets are tender. Once the beets are cool enough to handle, rub the skins off with the fingers or a kitchen towel. 

Slice the beets into thick wedges. Weigh the slices, setting aside 2.5 lbs. to pickle.

Pickling Ingredients
2 cups red wine vinegar
1 cup red wine
1/2 cup water
1/4 honey
1/3 cup packed brown sugar
1 tablespoon Kosher salt
2 teaspoons black peppercorn
8 thyme springs
4 rosemary springs
2.5 lbs. beets: roasted, peeled and sliced.

1. In a pot, bring the vinegar, wine, water, honey, sugar, and salt to a boil. Keep hot.

2. Scald 4 pints jars in a large pot of simmering water filled with a rack – you will use this pot to process the jars. Lift the jars from the hot water and place the jars on the counter. Add 1/2 teaspoon peppercorns, 2 thyme sprigs, and 1 rosemary sprig to each jar, and then pack in the beets. Meanwhile, soak the lids in a pan of hot water to soften the rubber seal.

3. Transfer the brine to a heat-proof pitcher and pour over beets, leaving a 1/2 inch head space from the rim of the jar. Check the jars for air pockets, add more brine if necessary to fill in gaps. Wipe the rims with a clean towel, seal with the lids, then screw on the lids until snug but not tight.

4. Place the jars in the pot with the rack and add enough water to cover the jars by about 1 inch. Bring the water to a boil and process the jars for 10 minutes (start the timer when the water reaches a boil). Turn off the heat and leave the jars in the water for a few minutes. Remove the jars from the water and let cool completely. Tighten the lids and store in your pantry or give away a gifts. 

Snakes Eyes

While out walking this morning, I cut through a seldom used path and came eyeball to eyeball with a snoozing garter snake. He was all curled up in a blackberry bramble.

I was pretty sure he was asleep as he didn't move when I took his photo. When I got back home, I looked it up and sure enough, snakes sleep with their eyes open. Seems they have no eyelids, so they can never close their eyes or blink. Instead of eyelids, they have something called spectacles (or brilles), a thin, clear membrane that covers their corneas. Evidently, they can also close their retinas when they are sleeping.

I'm not a big fan of snakes, but to my knowledge we don't have any poisonous snakes slinking around Farm Dover and in fact, we hardly ever see these harmless garter snakes. Like all snakes, they are carnivores and will eat almost any creature they are capable of overpowering: slugs, earthworms. leeches, lizards, amphibians, ants, crickets, toads, minnows and rodents. Much to my dismay, they also sometimes eat bird eggs.

In turn, they are eaten by large fish, bullfrogs, snapping turtles, milk snakes, crows, hawks, great blue herons, raccoons, foxes, squirrels and shrews.

I left him there in the blackberry bramble, sunning and snoozing. I figure there is room for all creatures here at Farm Dover.

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Happy Trails

It's been hot at Farm Dover this week. Hot. Hot. Hot. We get out early in the morning to weed the garden or the walnut field, mow the grass, water the little trees. By late morning, we are ready to head into the house or into the shade of the woods.

And as of this week, we have a new trail that winds its way through the woods at the back of our farm. Ed cut part of it on the mower and then bushwhacked the rest. I came along behind him with the weed whipper. And now we have a beautiful trail that winds its way from our back yard, through the woods, over the creek, and up to the upper field. Come along and hike it with me.

Head out across the back yard.

And hang a left just past the pawpaw trees. The field on your left is full of black-eyed susans and pink coneflowers.  The bee hives are just on the other side of it. You might see a dozen or so gold finch take flight above the grasses and wild flowers.

Slip into the woods and feel the coolness of them. Check out the wildflowers and the moss that grows on the fallen tree trunks. Look carefully and you might see an indigo bunting or common yellowthroat.

Hop across the creek and head up the hill that runs along the back fence line. Listen for the woodpecker's pecking or the red-winged blackbird's trill.

Keep going. Walk underneath the canopy of oaks. Cardinals and jays flit overhead.

And then take a right and step over the log between two osage orange trees. Stay clear of the poison ivy on each side of the path. As you walk along, don't be surprised if you scare up a flock of wild turkey.

Keep going, almost to the clearing. You can see where deer have been lying in the tall grass.

 And then take a left. Stay watchful for coyote pups or raccoons.

And follow the trail to where it comes out at the upper field. You'll pass plenty of blackberries, not yet ripe for picking.

Turn right and follow the trail over the pond's dam and back to the house. Listen for the bobwhite calling from the native grass field on your left.

Let me know if you would rather take an actual hike of our new trail. Be happy to have you hike with me.

Double the Pleasure; Double the Fun

Last Friday night my twin nieces came for a sleepover at Farm Dover. Their two older sisters were off in Lexington competing in a horse event. We were delighted to have them visit.

While I finished up a project, Katie and Molly set to work in the kitchen. They prepared a beautiful poached salmon salad with beets, potato, egg and mustard vinaigrette.

Dessert was a pavlova sprinkled with elderflowers blossoms.

I wish I had them working away in my kitchen everyday. They are so talented and so fun to be around.

After dinner we watched one of our kids' favorite movies: Life is Beautiful, in Italian no less (with English subtitles).

Saturday morning we were up and out early, headed to pick blueberries at Earthwave Farm and then to a quick swing through the LaGrange Farmers' Market.

Perhaps my readers of a certain age will remember the Doublemint Chewing Gum ads of the 1970s and '80s that featured twins and the slogan: Double your pleasure; double your fun. That's what Ed and I felt like all weekend with Molly and Katie around. It was doubly nice having them here. Hope they come back soon.

A Blueberry Picking Kind of Morning

Strawberry season is officially over. So this morning at 8:15 Ed, Dudley (our friend and houseguest), and I headed down a very foggy Dover Road to Earthwave Farm to do some blueberry picking. The U-pick farm is located on Moody Pike only about 10 miles from Farm Dover.  There were lots of big, ripe berries that were easy to pick. Working down the rows, our buckets quickly filled up.

Once home, I rinsed and packed some of our haul into quart mason jars and froze the rest. This should get us through the week – but I'm planning to go back again soon. Picking days are Tuesdays and Saturdays. Let me know if you want to come along.... 

Elderflowers: What's Not to Love?

In every field of Farm Dover, elder bushes are in full bloom boasting their snowy white sprays atop green leaves.

Even with my eyes closed, I can tell when I'm getting near an elder bush. The flowers smell like summer – all floral and creamy.

Like strawberries, their season is short. I've been cutting the blossoms every day this week and finding ways to showcase them. Earlier in the week, I cut sixty of the blossoms and added them to a stone crock, along with sliced lemons and a simple syrup.

Every morning, I'd give my elderflower cordial concoction a quick stir and today, I deemed it ready, straining the mixture into clean glass jars.

What I can't use in the next month or so, I can take down to the basement freezer and then anytime I need a taste of summer, I can just defrost a jar and add a swig to sparkling water or champagne.

Tonight, in honor of the Belmont Stakes, we made a rosé spritzer, loosely based on this recipe from Bon Appétit. (Thank you, Claire.) The elderberry cordial added a nice zip to the spritzer.

I was so pleased with my bottled cordial that I decided to try to make a elderflower liquor, which is as easy as adding vodka to a jar full of elderflowers, capped with twists of lemon and lime peel. It will be a few days before it is ready, but I'm hoping it will the perfect base for a vodka tonic.

And for dessert tonight, I sprinkled some elderflowers atop a strawberry pavlova. Meringue, cream and strawberries with tiny white flowers. What's not to love?

Say "sure"

Our friend, James, posted a photo of himself on Instagram this week sailing high above a deep blue ocean on an ever expanding and almost equally deep blue sky. His caption was:

Bucket List: Parasailing ✔️

It got me to thinking about bucket lists. I don't recall hearing that term before watching the 2007 movie by the same name, starring Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman. But since then, I hear it a lot. People talking about what they want to do before they die. I don't have an actual bucket list, and to my knowledge, Ed doesn't either. Hmmm...maybe I should ask him....

But when it comes to travel, we seem to have an understanding that we go along with whatever the other one of us suggests. And, so far, it has worked out remarkably well.

Take this last adventure of ours. As we were driving home from our 2012 trip out to Glacier National Park, we made our way through Montana's Big Hole Country. This part of the world – basically in the middle of nowhere – is known for its spectacular fly fishing and right then and there, Ed decided that he wanted us to return someday and fish the waters of the Beaverhead and Big Hole rivers.

That was the impetus for our trip. Ed found us a rental cabin along the Big Hole River and engaged a guide to get us started with our fly fishing efforts. We built the rest of the itinerary around getting to and from Dillion, Montana.

This undoubtedly wasn't the first place on my non-existent Bucket List, but can you tell by this photo that I was having a big time?

The day we fished the Beaverhead River, we had great success and great fun catching (and then releasing) brown and rainbow trout. I've gone fly fishing maybe a dozen times in the past and never had much luck. But this was relatively easy:  roll cast from the drifting boat, mend the line, watch the indicator bobber, set the hook and strip the line back in, keeping tension on the line so the fish didn't get away. It helped that we had Dan, our guide, to row the boat, figure out which flies to use, tie them on for us, and hold the net while we worked our fish toward the boat. Our end-of-the-day count was upward toward 30 good size fish. Not bad!

On our second day there, we fished the Big Hole River, just outside our cabin's front door. It was much more challenging with faster running water and no guide to guide us. Nevertheless, Ed successfully caught us our lunch. Doesn't get any fresher than 10 minutes from river to oven.

Next time someone suggests that you go somewhere that is not on your bucket list, don't say "no"; say "sure." It may turn out to be one of the best times ever. Trust me on this.

Pitch a tent

Here's my pitch for the day: pitch a tent.

That's exactly what Ed and I did on our recent trip through the Great American West. Every few afternoons, we'd pull into a camp ground, drive around and scope out the best camp site. Stop and put our camping gear on the preferred site's picnic table and then go sign in to reserve our site.

Usually, it cost us a whopping $7.50 for the site for the night. It takes us about 15 minutes to pitch our small tent, blow up our extra thick Themarest® pads, spread out our sleeping bags, and add two full-size pillows. Never do I sleep so well!

Once our tent is set, we usually take a hike, looking for some weird birds. Then we come back and read for a bit. Dinner is always simple. If we are organized, we'll grill some bratwursts and nestle some foil-wrapped ears of corn in the ashes of the campfire. If we are not organized, we pull out some cheese and crackers and crack open a beer and cider. A handful of Peanut M&M's make for the perfect dessert.

Breakfast the next morning is usually a cup of campfire coffee and a handful of granola. Then we pack up our camp (10 minutes max) and head out for our next adventure.

I can't tell you how pleasant it is to travel this way. I don't want a big RV. I don't want a fancy hotel room and hot shower (well, sometimes I do). I just want our cozy two-person tent, a crackling campfire, and a clear, starry night.

I didn't grow up camping. In fact, I never camped until Ed suggested that we invite a group of families to give it a try at a group campsite on the Blue River. It was the start of something special.

It wasn't nearly as simple as our current camping operation. Back then, we'd jam pack our van full of kids, a complicated two-room tent that only Jeananne could set up, coolers full of juice boxes and food, folding canvas chairs, sleeping bags, Pass-the-Pig card game, bug spray, sun screen, fishing equipment, matches, picnic supplies, and a well-stocked first-aid kit.

We'd have a blast. A dozen or so adults and 20+ kids. We'd hike or fish with the kids; let the little ones carve sticks with real pocket knives; play a rousing game of softball or go on a nighttime owl hoot; build a campfire; and David would bring his guitar and lead us in a sing-along to Arlo Guthrie's Alice's Restaurant (all 50 verses). This went on for at least a dozen years, until the kids grew up and scattered across the globe.

Back in these early camping days, we'd split up responsibilities for meals -- teaming up with another family to cook a full breakfast or a complete dinner. I'd always bring Triple Good Treats; Robin would bring Nutty Buddies; the other Debbie would bring Nord's Bakery Butter Cookies. And then late at night as the campfire turned to embers, there would be round two of desserts: orange cakes or banana boats.

My friend Robin and I used to joke that we should publish a cookbook with all our favorite camping recipes. In memory of those good times, I leave you with this recipe for our famous Banana Boats.

I leave you also with a challenge: consider pitching a tent. It is more fun than you might think!

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Banana Boats

ingredients
a bunch of bananas
peanut butter
chocolate chips
tiny marshmallows

heavy-duty foil paper

preparation
Peel bananas down to within a half inch of the bottom. Smear banana with peanut butter. Dot with chocolate chips and marshmallows. Fold peel back up and wrap in foil. Place in ashes of campfire or on the grill, turning every few minutes, until the bananas start to soften and the chocolate chips melt. Unwrap, unpeel, and enjoy!

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And I leave those of you whom we used to camp with a trip down memory lane...

Home again, home again, jiggety jig

Last night at 8:46 we pulled into our drive after 6032 miles and 23 days exploring the Great American West. Our travels took us through Tennessee, Arkansas, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, Utah, Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, South Dakota, Missouri, Illinois, Indiana, and home to Kentucky.

We began our trip with a stop in Austin, TX to watch Maggie and her UofL MBA team make its presentations in the Venture Labs Investment Competition. (In case you haven’t already heard me brag: they won the whole shebang!)

From there we wound our way over to Santa Fe (NM), Chaco Canyon Cultural National Park (NM), Canyon de Chelly National Monument (AZ), Bryce Canyon National Park (UT), Capitol Reef National Park (UT), Arches National Park (UT), and the Big Hole Country (MT). From Dillion (MT), we turned east – toward home – stopping at Yellowstone National Park (WY), Devils Tower National Monument (WY), and Custer State Park (SD). Our last stop was yesterday morning at the Truman Presidential Museum in Independence, MO.

Along the way, we camped a number of nights, stayed in a yurt, a couple of cabins, a great western lodge, and (reluctantly) a couple of Comfort Inns. We hiked. We bird watched. We fly fished. We picnicked. We stargazed. And we drove. We drove a lot.

I love these rambling adventures of ours. This one was full of spectacular vistas, out-of-nowhere snow and hail storms, haunting hoodoos, black bears, buffaloes, and crackling campfires.

But, truth be told, I also love coming home. Home to my bed. To my garden. To my trails. To my kitchen. Home to my friends and family.

Here’s a handful of photos. I’ll put up more later this week.

Leave it to my boys

Leave it to my boys to travel halfway around the world and meet the same woman. Let me explain.

During the early spring of 2014 Ed and I traveled to China to see Jack in Shenzhen and then flew on to northern Guangxi (south central China), landing in Guilin. From there we took a boat down the Li River, getting off at Yangshuo, a small river town. While there, we hiked up to Moon Hill. It was a hot and humid day and we were awfully glad to rest at the top and even more glad to make friends with a tiny old woman who hikes to the top every morning, carrying a cooler full of bottled water, which she sells to thirsty tourist.

Unable to communicate in a common language, we still figured out how to buy a bottle of water, sign our name and hometown in a little notebook the woman carries with her, and take a photo.  She instructed Ed to make a peace sign.

Fast forward 14 months and Jack travels 350 miles by bus, bikes out in the countryside,  and stops to hike up Moon Hill where he meets the same woman, who wants her photo made with this second very tall Westerner. Jack posted the photo this morning on Instagram.

Like father/like son.