: News

Spring is Coming!

pfarmer@nospam.com (patiofarmer) — Wed, 24 Feb 2010 21:20:48 -0500

In Which Our Heroine Waltzes Back In Without So Much As A "By Your Leave".

My friends, it's nice to be back. Spring is on its way and I feel like I'm waking up from a long, troubled sleep. It's funny that one of my goals was to become more in tune with the seasons and the natural ebb and flow of life - and I feel like I've accomplished that in so many ways - but it's not always compatible with modern life. The benefits can be wonderful, such as the intense joy that the first ray of sun peeking through in Spring can bring and the almost primal, innate need to get things growing. In spring, it's sometimes like being pulled by the belt to the garden. The downside is that Winter is starting to affect me very differently than it used to. I used to really love Winter but in the last few years I've begun to almost dread it. It's like a dimmer switch in me gets slowly turned down and I go into hibernation for the season. I was hoping to fight it off this year with a Winter garden but a cold snap killed off too many seedlings and I realized that my heart just wasn't in it this year. I tried to keep myself inspired and just couldn't seem to do it. All I wanted to do was hunker down in the apartment, stay warm and make a lot of food. As things go, it wasn't so terrible but it's like being asleep when you want to be running.

On the bright side, I had some family visiting throughout the Winter and that helped a lot. My mom and brother came and we did a lot of cooking (more on that later) and a lot of talking and it helped keep me positive through a particularly hard winter. This year has been full of obstacles and Winter seems to underline all of the things that are already troublesome. The job search starts to feel a little more hopeless, the bills seem more daunting, the little arguments become big fights.

I do think the sun has a lot to do with it. I grew up mostly in Detroit where it gets very, very cold but the sun never really goes away. I recall standing in snow up to my knees with the sun shining so brightly that it felt like Spring. Sometimes we'd run through the snow barefoot, in shorts and t-shirts because it was so warm. I never thought much about the sun because it was something you could take for granted. I spent the rest of my childhood and most of my adulthood in South Florida, where you couldn't escape the sun. I spent most of my time alternately avoiding and cursing it. I've never been more pale than the years I spent in Florida. I lived in a house with no air conditioning in a neighborhood where you couldn't safely leave the door open for ventilation and the windows were covered in tinfoil to reflect some of the excessive sun and keep us all from baking. Even after I moved to my first apartment with an AC permanently set to 65 degrees, I wasn't happy because I never went outside. I missed the Northern seasons and the trees and wildlife and the normalcy. I missed Winter. What I never expected to miss was the sun.

I've never for a second regretted moving to Oregon. I love it here and am constantly reminded of how wonderful a place it is. It's a beautiful combination of some of my favorite things about Michigan and Florida but I wasn't prepared for the one thing that makes it unlike anything I'm used to: at a certain point in the year, the sun goes away and it doesn't come back. For three or four months straight, the whole place goes gray and I feel myself going with it. I lose interest in many of the things I love the rest of the year; I become less social, less active and I sleep more. In January, when the seed catalogs come in I start to stir a little but it's not until the first rays of sun start to show that I really begin to wake. Suddenly, the magazines with tomatoes on the cover start showing up and there's a freshness to the air and I can't help from throwing open all the windows and airing the place out. In some ways, Winter is a blessing because it's brought me an appreciation of the sun I've never had before. I certainly didn't appreciate it in Florida, where it was constant. It's also a rest after a year of work. If we never had a break, the work of growing would feel endless and monotonous. I also understand Spring cleaning now, in a way I never did before. In the Winter, the apartment becomes a cave - dark, dusty and cluttered. In Spring, cleaning out the dust and must of Winter feels as natural as waking up and making the bed.

For the first time in months, I'm feeling industrious. I feel hopeful and positive and ready to start fresh. It's time to plan my garden and get planting, time to clean up my messy patio and get organized, time to get back into the swing of writing again. As I write this, I am awash with sunlight and I'm so happy to be starting again. I'm happy that you're all here and I hope you're feeling as pumped as I am to get started. I think this is going to be a good year. For all of us.

Winding Down Thanksgiving

pfarmer@nospam.com (patiofarmer) — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 16:47:17 -0500

In Which Our Heroine Wakes From Her Tryptophan Coma

So how was everyone's holiday? Great, I hope. Mine was extra nice this year because I got to spend it with family, which is a rare occasion these days. My family is scattered throughout the country so I don't get to see them much, usually every few years. A few months ago I got to see my older sister and two of my nieces for the first time since my wedding, which was almost eight years ago. When I saw her at the wedding it had been a few years since I'd seen her the time before that. It kind of goes that way with my family. I have a brother that I haven't seen since my other sister's high school graduation. That was...oh, man...13 years ago? I think you get the idea.

This is one more reason to be thankful for the internet. Although I can be a bit of a Luddite at times, I wouldn't live in any other time because no other time had the internet. I am not so much of a letter writer - a shame, really, as I love every element of letter writing except actually writing and mailing a letter - and if you're waiting on a phonecall from me, be prepared to wait a long time. It's one of my challenges to overcome. In the meantime, the internet makes it easier and easier to stay in touch with family. Facebook has practically become a family reunion. I think three or four out of my six siblings are on Facebook, plus my mom and nieces so it's great for keeping up. Also, if it weren't for Facebook my mom and brother wouldn't have come for Thanksgiving.

My mom is what I think is called a natural health practitioner. I'm not sure if that's the proper term but she's an herbalist, iridologist, kinesiologist, among other things. I found out via FB the she's on the road a lot right now because she's teaching a series of classes in Missouri and California and I got her to swing by Portland for a visit. Ok, realistically I got her to drive many, many miles out of her way to visit but it landed right on Thanksgiving by some awesome coincidence and, for the first time in a very long time, I had Thanksgiving with family.

I love Thanksgiving. I love Thanksgiving food, which I make from scratch the way my mom used to make it so it always tastes like it used to. Thanksgiving is one of those holidays where I don't want to be anywhere but home, where I know exactly what dinner will be and what it will look and taste like. I love trying new things and experimenting with flavors but not on Thanksgiving. The years when I got talked into going out for dinner or going to someone else's house felt sort of like Thanksgiving didn't even come that year. There's a strong link between food and memory, I think, and Thanksgiving is always a link to some of the better highlights of my childhood. Growing up, there wasn't always enough food or enough money for day-to-day things. My mom couldn't always be around as much as she wanted to because she was running her own business in order to keep us from getting evicted. We weren't, in general, a happy family and most of us didn't get along with each other pretty much ever but on Thanksgiving mom was there all day and the house was filled with the smell of amazing food all day and, although the fighting of siblings never really stops, we all shut up for dinner. For the space of that enormous meal, insults were more jokey and good natured and we laughed more than yelled and afterwards even my brothers were too full to fight. Mom would unbutton her pants and we'd all crash out on the couch or the floor until it was time to go back and get more food.

This year marked a milestone that I didn't even realize I'd been waiting for: as a kid, I always helped my mom make Thanksgiving dinner and this year she helped me. That's very lucky, actually, as I haven't yet perfected my gravy skills. I've made really great gravy in the past but results aren't consistent every time. Last year it never thickened at all, which was a pretty big embarrassment, as I had guests over.

The other thing is that, in our house, Thanksgiving wasn't a day. It was more like a week. Every meal was turkey until it was gone and on the last day it all became soup. I call it last-day-of-thanksgiving-soup and the ingredients are as follows: everything, water. Bam: done. Every year, I mean to make it and then I don't but this year I was determined not to let anything go to waste. It turned out really well for a first attempt. Here's what I did:

Last-Day-Of-Thanksgiving-Soup

you will need:

water
all of your thanksgiving leftovers, within reason (leave out the pie and cranberry sauce, unless you're feeling really adventurous)
a really big pot

In my case, leftovers were a turkey carcass with some meat left on it, some stuffing and giblet gravy. Usually, the rest of the mashed potatoes and corn would go into it but I'd run out by this point.

Start by boiling the turkey carcass in a big pot. This is going to take a while. Give it at least a couple of hours, adding water as needed to keep it covered. Don't go crazy with the water, though, as it will dilute the flavors a bit. You just want to keep it from burning or drying out.

After an hour or two, you can start trying to break the bird down a bit and pull some of the larger pieces of meat off. You may burn your fingers a bit but I consider this part of the process. If you don't, then pull pieces of the carcass out a couple at a time, let them cool on a plate for a bit and then pick the meat off. smaller bones go in the garbage and the larger ones can go back in for a bit of extra boiling if you like. You're making your own stock at this point, so the longer the bones stay in, the more flavor you get out of them.

Once you've gotten all the meat off of the bird and you feel it's time to ditch the bones, go ahead and do so.

Now you're going to add the rest of the leftovers. Dump in your potatoes, your gravy, your corn, your stuffing (you're going to want to play the addition of the stuffing by ear. My stuffing is made of whole wheat bread, onions, celery and sage, so it's a great addition. If you make yours with oysters or something like that, this is going to be your call) , and whatever else looks like it might work. I was bummed out about not having potatoes or corn left, so I added sliced carrots and celery (including the leaves) and about a quarter of an onion.

At this point, you can also add noodles if that's your thing. As this dish is all about frugality and making the most of what you have, I threw in the last of my egg noodles and the last of my shell pasta that I wasn't sure what to do with. Season to taste and turn the heat down a bit and let this cook, stirring every now and then, until you can't wait to eat it anymore. It should be nice and thick and there should be a lot of it. My husband and I each ate a big bowl of it and I had enough left over to fill four large jars, which are in my freezer, waiting for a cold night when I don't feel like cooking.

There are several things I love about this soup. Firstly, it reminds me of good times. Secondly, everyone's will taste different and I kind of like that idea. Thirdly, it's the ultimate in frugality. We made a turkey and some side dishes last an entire week and we've still got at least four more meals to go from it. If I'd had a dog to give the bones to, there would have been no waste whatsoever.

So, all in all, it was a great visit, a great holiday and great food. I hope this past week has been so good for every one of you.

One Thing To Leave Off The Table This Turkey Day

pfarmer@nospam.com (patiofarmer) — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 13:48:31 -0500

If you're like me, you're probably not done with your shopping for Thanksgiving dinner. If you're not like me, go ahead and gloat a little. I won't be offended. But if you're still picking out your ingredients, think about leaving out GMO's this year. It's unfortunate that package labeling doesn't make it easy to tell what products are made with genetically modified organisms and which aren't, so the fine folks at the Center For Food Safety, along with the Campaign For Healthier Eating In America have made a handy printable booklet to help you identify which foods may or may not have GMO's. You can take it with you when you head out to the grocery store or keep it on your fridge and use it to compile your shopping list each week.

If enough consumers reject GMO products, manufacturers will have to rethink using them. Just look at how almost no one uses rBGH anymore. Who did that? YOU did that by rightly rejecting it. As a consumer, every dollar that you spend casts a vote - a vote that companies must listen to in order to remain in business. Do you notice how many more organic products are offered in the past few years? That's because these companies realized that that's what a significant number of dollars were voting for. Remember that YOU drive the market - it does not drive you.

You can download the PDF here:

Have a safe and happy Thanksgiving, everyone. All the best to all of you from all of us here at the Patiofarmers' Guild.

You Know Your Produce Is Really Organic When...

pfarmer@nospam.com (patiofarmer) — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 17:50:59 -0500

It brings guests for dinner!

I opened my vegetable drawer to grab some goodies for a salad and this little stowaway was right on top, like he owned the place. I didn't know what it was at first - I'm ashamed to say that my initial reaction was, "GASP! Pod People!!" - but after a few minutes of being left alone his little antennae starting poking out a bit.

A minute or so after that, he had stretched out to his full length and started exploring his surroundings. At this point I had some decisions to make. Since becoming a Patiofarmer, I've come to see slugs as pretty commonplace and I'm not as grossed out about them as I once was. If you grow anything at all outdoors, you will see slugs at some point and you're just going to have to be able to deal with it. If I freaked out every time I saw a slug, I'd have to make a reservation at the local sanitarium by the end of one Summer. On the other hand, slugs are no good for plants. That's a mighty hefty understatement, actually. Slugs are voracious eaters and they're not easy to get rid of once you've got them.

This left me wondering what to do with my unwanted guest. Leaving him on the stovetop and watching him slink around and cover my burners with slime was very much out of the question. I was also not interested in a new pet. I don't know how big these things get and I do not want to know. Imagine coming home to an excited slug jumping up and slurping your face - - oh god, I have to stop typing now.

*3 minutes later*

With that off the table, I had to think about getting rid of him. It's strange that I would put out beer traps to kill loads of slugs on the Patiofarm but I'm really uncomfortable with the idea of killing just one in my apartment. Besides, when it comes to things I don't want in my home, it seems a slippery slope from killing fridge slugs to offing Avon ladies and Amway salesmen. This leaves only the option of getting him out alive.

Now I'm not freaked out by slugs but I'm also not going to touch one with my actual hands if there's any way not to. Luckily, I happened to have a fresh romanesco broccoli on hand (that's the green stuff on the right) so I snapped off a leaf and coaxed our little interloper onto it and tossed him over the balcony. I know that there's soft grass under my balcony and I'm sure he survived the fall just fine. I'm hoping that he understands that we have a deal: he'll be able to run free (or something to that effect) and live his slimy life to the fullest but will hopefully not decide to climb up to my patio to see what he's missing.

Prelude

pfarmer@nospam.com (patiofarmer) — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 20:09:01 -0500

In Which Our Heroine Explains Her Prolonged Absence.

As I mentioned in earlier posts, I've been distracted from updating lately but I kind of think I need to give you guys a proper explanation and an update so you know I'm still in this thing. The story is this:

About a month ago, my husband (pictured - the one without the fur) had a really nasty gallbladder attack which kept us in the emergency room all night. I don't know how many of you have had a gallbladder attack but those of you who have will understand that it's no barrel of monkeys. He was told that it needed to come out, which sounded reasonable as it was quickly wearing out its welcome. The surgery was scheduled for later that week and was supposed to take about 45 minutes and he was expected to be fully recovered in about a week or so. This is the usual. But, as I have often remarked in the past, my husband is not what you call usual.

The 45 minute surgery took roughly two and a half hours. When I spoke to the doctor afterwards, he told me that the surgery was more complicated than he'd anticipated, which is sometimes the case. While they were still able to do the surgery laparoscopically, it was a bit more intensive than would normally be the case. Even still, the recovery was supposed to be fairly quick. The other difference was that, unlike most gallbladder patients, he was not able to come home the day of his surgery. Because of his severe sleep apnea, which is made worse with narcotics, they had to keep him overnight so I stayed in the hospital with him on a pullout couch which I'm guessing doubles as a device for forcing confessions.

I knew that I wouldn't get much done on the site during this time and I expected that I would be a lot less prolific during the week of his recovery. What I didn't expect was that he would still be recovering weeks later. He's been back to the doctor a couple of times, he's had a cat scan to make sure that no one dropped any milk duds in there during the surgery (or something like that) but everything's normal. Everything, that is, unless you count the fact that he's still in an extreme amount of pain all the time. We are making some progress, a little at a time. He can now sleep in the bed, whereas he'd had to sleep in a reclining chair for the first couple of weeks. There are little victories but the most frustrating part is how, with no provocation or reason, he can suddenly be in as much pain as the first few days after surgery and there's not really anything that we can do except hope it goes away soon.

So this is how a week or so turned into several. On the bright side, he's able to do many more things for himself now which frees me up a bit for more updating. Also, this episode has been a bit of an eye-opener for him and it's given him the push that he needed to make some real changes in his life. Since the surgery, he's been more positive and more serious about changing old habits for some newer, better ones. It's been refreshing to say the least and it makes the rest of it a lot easier to bear, although I say that as the one who's not actively experiencing pain.

I am glad to be able to end this update on a positive note. It looks like he's going to be around the apartment for at least a couple more weeks but that's ok. With all the changes he's making and as well as he's doing, I'm happy to know I'll have him around for many more years.

Everything You HAVE TO KNOW About Dangerous Genetically Modified Foods

pfarmer@nospam.com (patiofarmer) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 20:54:22 -0500

Sorry to be away again for so long. Mr. P is still recovering from surgery, but much more slowly than anticipated and my attention is kind of being drawn away by that at the moment. I hope to have much more to post, along with some new pictures very soon but in the meantime, please enjoy this thought-provoking video which I came across on the Organic Consumers Organization's website.

Everything You HAVE TO KNOW about Dangerous Genetically Modified Foods from Jeffrey Smith on Vimeo.

Autumn Chicken

pfarmer@nospam.com (patiofarmer) — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 01:52:07 -0400

Man, I love Autumn. I love the transitional seasons best because you get the better parts of the two extreme seasons, without all the extremity. Does that make sense? In Autumn, the air gets cooler and you can smell Winter coming but there are still these amazing sunny hours to bask in. The sun is lovely and warm, like it was in Spring, and not oppressive and exhausting the way it can be in Summer. The crispness in the air is enough to redden your cheeks and make you want to snuggle under a blanket or sit by a fire but it's not the bone-rattling chill of Winter that makes you want to go home and never come out again. Don't get me wrong, Winter and Summer have their charms but Spring is all about the earth's reawakening and seeing the first buds pop out on trees and the first shoots come up in the garden. It's about throwing open your windows and letting the air back in and starting everything fresh. Autumn, on the other hand, is about harvesting the fruits of the garden's last great push. It's about enjoying what you've worked hard for all year and preserving the bounty for the coming months of hibernation.

For me, Autumn evokes a lot of happy memories of acorns and leafpiles and bringing out the jacket for the first time and sitting out in the early evening with hot cider and spiced donuts. Living in Florida for so many years, Autumn became one of the things I missed most and was most happy to have back when I moved to Oregon. I missed the pumpkin patches and the hayrides and you-pick apple orchards and a proper Halloween where you froze your buns off trick or treating. I missed going to the cider mill and watching them press the apples. Autumn is a romantic season and, as sad as I am to think that Winter's coming again, Autumn is always my consolation prize.

In an attempt to capture some of the flavors that personify the season for me, I experimented a bit in the kitchen and I bring forth for you what I shall call my Autumn Chicken. I'm exceptionally proud of this dish because it's my own creation, from beginning to end, rather than a variation on a recipe. The smell in the house while it cooks is unbelievable and the flavor is exactly what I hoped it would be. I will try to remember everything I put in it (I really need to start writing things down when I cook!) while it's still fresh in my mind. I wish I'd taken pictures of each step but I wasn't sure it would turn out as well as it did.

1. preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Rinse a whole chicken and pat it dry (I prefer to shake it dry because it amuses me to do so). Let your chicken come to room temperature. I don't know why I do this - I think I heard it somewhere and now I do it with any meat that I prepare straight from the fridge. For all I know, I may be wasting my time but I'm no worse off for it so why break with tradition?

2. set the chicken in a dutch oven and cover it liberally with rubbed sage. Add just a bit of powdered bay leaf, plus powdered garam masala, salt and pepper. (In case you haven't had garam masala, it's a spice blend that may vary depending on the brand but it'll usually have cumin, coriander, cinnamon and similar spices. It's name means "sweet and hot" and it adds an amazing flavor to anything it touches. If you can't find it in your grocery store, you can google recipes and make your own from easily obtainable spices). Lightly rub your spices into the chicken and try to distribute them evenly.

3. score the hell out of a lemon. Take a knife and make crisscrossing lines all over the surface of a lemon, which will allow the flavor to escape a little better. Next stick about 7 cloves into the lemon, like thumbtacks. You can use more or less, depending on how much clove flavor you like. Into the main cavity of the chicken, stuff about 3 fresh sage leaves, the clove-studded lemon, and then about 3 more fresh sage leaves.

4. Pour about an inch and a half of good quality (the fresher the better - and hopefully organic) unfiltered apple juice or cider. This is what your chicken will be cooking in. Pop the lid on the dutch oven and cook it in a 350 degree oven.

5. Leave it alone for an hour. You can baste it if you want to during this hour but it's not super necessary.

6. After an hour has passed, chop up a half an acorn squash into large chunks and tuck it around the chicken, trying to get the pieces down into the juice as much as possible. (If you have a large enough dutch oven to fit a whole acorn squash, plus all the other ingredients, knock yourself out.) Now do exactly the same with a large sweet potato or yam. I used an oriental sweet potato because I saw them in the store and had never had them before. Not bad.

7. Pop the lid back on and leave it alone for another hour. Again, you can baste it if you want but it'll only be an excuse to look at it. The dutch oven does a pretty good job of distributing moisture evenly on its own.

8. When the second hour is up, add some fingerling potatoes the same way you added the sweet potato and the squash, tucking them around and under the chicken and into the juice. Chop an apple into large chunks and throw them in as well. I used Cox Orange Pippins, which are one of my favorite apples of the season. If you see someone selling these apples, stop and grab a few. You won't be sorry. At this point, I threw in a handful of dried black currents because they were all I had. I think that sultanas may have been better, or perhaps some other type of dried fruit. Apricots? Who knows. I'll have to try this with a few different variations and see what works. I would normally have thrown in a clove or two of garlic at this point, but I forgot. I don't think I missed it, though.

9. On goes the lid once again and back in the oven it goes for another hour. It's going to start getting really difficult at this point. Your stomach will start rumbling and your mouth will start watering but you have to wait. This dish needs to cook for a total of three hours and I promise you it will literally fall off the bone.

10. After hour three, go nuts. You're done and it's time to claim your prize. You may be so excited that it doesn't even touch the plate before going straight into your mouth.

I am not one to toot my own horn but holy cow, this was tasty. My Facebook page is full of posts about how I couldn't stand waiting anymore, followed by the triumphant, "OMG, I WIN at dinner!!" I think this is going on my list of stuff to serve if I'm ever trying to impress dinner guests.

Some variations you may like to try: if you don't have acorn squash, just about any other squash will do. If you want, you can add carrots or parsnips or any number of seasonal root vegetables. I considered chiogga beets but they seemed risky in this application. Who knows, though. They may have been amazing. You can substitute an orange for the lemon. You can add any spices that you think may taste nice or leave any out that you don't want. I'm of the belief that recipes are only a guideline. Make yourself happy.

I'm thinking that, if there are any little bits of chicken and a bit of the cooking juice left after we eat the leftovers, I may incorporate them into a soup with the other half of the acorn squash. I've never made squash soup before but I'm up for a challenge.

If you try this dish, please let me know how it turns out for you!

Checking In

pfarmer@nospam.com (patiofarmer) — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 03:13:56 -0400

In Which Our Heroine Pops Back In For A Chat About Food.

So I thought I'd check in and let you all know what's going on as of late. I know I haven't been as prolific lately as I'd like to be but it's only temporary, I promise. My husband's surgery is tomorrow morning and, with any luck, he'll have a speedy and easy recovery and be back on his feet soon. I'm looking forward to getting back to life as usual, although that may take a while. I'm not used to cooking for gallbladderless people but I've been trying to lower our fat intake anyway, so adjusting menus for someone who can no longer handle a lot of fat shouldn't be too hard, I guess. I think the most difficult thing will be limiting the amount of olive oil we eat, as I've always considered it "free", even when on a diet. It's a high quality, healthy fat and I never stressed about how much of it I used but when it comes to processing fats without a gallbladder, fat is fat as far as I know. I don't know that any one fat is easier than any other fat so, until we can either get some solid answers on that or find out his limits by trial and error, I'll just have to take it easy on the oils.

I'll try to post some of the more successful low-fat meals that I try. As it is, I have a few recipes that I've been meaning to post but just haven't gotten around to. One thing that I'm really excited to share is the recipe for my very first attempt at spiced red cabbage which (at the risk of tooting my own horn) was the best red cabbage I've ever eaten. The problem? As a first attempt, I didn't know it would turn out so well so I didn't take pictures or write down what I was doing or adding. I know that I started with a basic recipe that I found on the internet but I didn't like it the way it was, so I made a few changes and added my own spices because the recipe I used didn't use ANY spices. That's crazytown. So I improvised and tried to imagine what spices would probably get me the flavor I wanted and HOLY COW it was good. It was sweet and sour and spicy and savory and everything worked perfectly. Even my husband said, "I don't hate it" which, coming from him is very high praise for cabbage. He is, to say the least, not a fan.

I've bought another head of red cabbage with the intention of reproducing my results, this time with pictures and notes on methods and ingredients and I hope to get it up on the site ASAP. In the meantime, I have for you a recipe that I got from my grandmother, of all people. I say this because although you could say a lot of wonderful things about my grandma, no one ever said she was a great cook. My father grew up on TV dinners, which was probably a blessing because I've seen what happens when she tries to cook. I remember boiled meatballs and baked spinach and fried slices of roast beef and probably some other horrors that my young mind had blocked out.

So why am I including a recipe of hers? Because grandma would surprise you. My father loves to tell the story of his first wedding, when he was amazed to find a table full of delicious and beautiful foods, a swan made out of chopped chicken livers and even those roses carved out of radishes that you used to see more often back then. When he found out that his mother, of all people, had made every single bite of food on the table he was stunned. He said, "mom! all my life you gave me tv dinners. You've never cooked anything like this before!" and my grandmother said, with a look I wish I could have been there to see, "I was saving it up."

So here is one thing that my grandmother always got right. It's simple, it's healthy, it's cooling on a hot day and it's easy to make ahead and pack for work the next day. It's a basic tuna recipe that uses no mayo, so it's much lower in fat than most tuna recipes.

Step 1: start by assembling your ingredients. All amounts can be adjusted to taste but you'll need roughly: one or two cans of tuna (I prefer chunk lite but all we had in the pantry was solid white. C'est la vie.), a half an onion, a half a lemon, olive oil, romaine or leaf lettuce, and a carrot. I don't think my grandmother ever used carrot; I think I added that some years ago but I could be wrong. This is a recipe that you can really play fast and loose with, so no worries. You can also add salt, pepper or any spices that you like. I like it pretty simple, although you can see those red peppers lurking in the background. They're not used to being left out so I may include a few so they don't pout.

Step 2: empty your can of tuna into an appropriately sized bowl and add the carrot and onion, finely diced. You want bigger pieces of onion? Smaller pieces of carrot? You want to add some green onion or chives or garlic scapes or ramps or whatever else you think will taste nice? Knock yourself out. You're eating it, not me. Recipes are only suggestions, so make it the way you like it.

Step 3: Drizzle a bit of olive oil and squeeze some lemon juice on there. How much? How much do you want? I don't do a lot of measuring; I just add what looks to be a reasonable amount and taste it to make sure I'm right. It can be adjusted from there. Next you want to finish it up with your salt, pepper, what-have-you. Again, I keep it as it or maybe with the slightest hint of pepper but that's just me.

Step 4: Mix it up pretty well and serve. I think Grandma ate hers on bread but I like mine as a lettuce wrap. I've found that this recipe pairs exceptionally well with a kohlrabi-apple slaw that I found here. You may remember me mentioning in the post about kids and vegetables that I tried two different recipes when I first experimented with kohlrabi. One was a dud, but this one was the keeper. Even my husband loved it.

So there you have it. I hope you try it, I hope you like it and I hope you let me know what kind of variations you try with it.

No Impact Man Trailer

pfarmer@nospam.com (patiofarmer) — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 12:19:49 -0400