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Showing posts with label garden. Show all posts
Showing posts with label garden. Show all posts
Monday, June 24, 2013
Day 3: Braised Zucchini and Leeks
The summer of my senior year of college, I read Mireille Guiliano's French Women Don't Get Fat. I had just had to have my choir dress let out a little, and felt like emergency action was required.
What I remember from the book is the philosophy of thoughtfully eating what you like. Guiliano doesn't frown on dessert, but she encourages eating one piece of quality bittersweet chocolate over eating a frosted Krispy Kreme doughnut or half a bag of M&Ms. She writes about facing a craving for an apple pastry head on by eating slow roasted apples cooked in cabbage leaves.
(Who are we kidding? Cabbage leaves instead of layer upon layer of crisp buttery pastry?? As I type this, I'm struck that she would likely support a cake that substitutes zucchini for Coca-Cola.)
But the concepts are good. If you love the apple flavor, don't substitute a cheap, unsatisfying fiber bar - eat real apples. Just limit yourself on the fats and sugars the majority of the time.
Guiliano also shares the diet plan that her family's doctor advised for her after she put on weight in the United States. For the first 48 hours, she ate only what she deemed "Magical Leek Soup." In glowing terms she describes how this was the catalyst of her life-long love for sweet, buttery leeks. She drank the delicious and nourishing leek broth several times a day, and whenever she got hungry she would eat a boiled leek with a little olive oil and cracked pepper. Not only were these leeks delectable, they filled her up; and she still lost some significant pounds (or kilos).
I was sold.
Friday, June 21, 2013
Prelude to Zucchini
First of all, thank you so much to all of you that sent me recipes and linked me up! I am overwhelmed with recipes. My cousin Jesse alone sent me 366 recipes. She's the sister of the cousin who gave the recipe for the delicious sounding pie. Obviously my cousins know their way around produce. Congratulations, Jesse. You win. Please come to Gray Court to collect your prize of one golden summer squash.
And in case any of you are still processing that number - yes, it's enough that I could make one a day and still not be done in a year.
I have recipes for zucchini pasta, zucchini pies, zucchini cupcakes, zucchini muffins, strata, quiche, casseroles, and soups. I was even sent a recipe for a zucchini slushie.
This, friends, is going to be exciting.
It begins tonight. We're eating leftovers (got to clear space in that fridge for zucchini cobbler and zucchini tian) and the Helpful Neighbors are coming over to help us check out the floor of our chicken coop, so I'm thinking that we'll be serving up zucchini chocolate cake. Also, the recipe comes from Jesse, and it seems only fair to start with one of hers.
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| Going to be seeing a lot more of this. |
Note: Since I intend to post every day (or nearly), I won't be linking to Facebook. If you are interested in following this to collect zucchini recipes or just to see how long it takes me to go crazy, you can subscribe to receive posts by e-mail but entering your e-mail up on the right. It's really easy to unsubscribe if it gets to be too much. And I don't make money or anything if you subscribe. I just makes me feel a little more self-important.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
The Great Zucchini Challenge
It has begun. It is the middle of June, and already Matt's generous planting of zucchini and summer squash is yielding bountiful produce.
Those first several squash are always exciting. Matt worries that I pick them too soon, but I ignore him and slice them up thin to fry in olive oil. Less than a week later, they are coming in a pretty steady stream. We're eating sauteed squash every other night, and I am polling people at work to find out if any of them will take zucchini. Within days, we are eating it every night and I no longer care if people at work like squash. They are taking it home anyway.
Yesterday, I discovered we'd missed one (nine), and I found myself dealing with enough zucchini to start a baseball team (although, as vegetables go, these are shaped more like quarterbacks). After sauteing one (half) for dinner, I decided to try my hand at zucchini baked goods.
Zucchini baked goods confuse me. Maybe I'm missing something here, but the zucchini bread, zucchini muffin and especially the zucchini chocolate cake all just seem like a way of dealing with excess zucchini: a coping mechanism for zealous home gardeners. It's the human version of peanut butter on Henry's monthly heart-worm pill. You can either make baked goods with a rich, dense crumb or you can make a sub par and equally unhealthy product with shredded zucchini in it. Yum.
As a kid, I didn't complain. We didn't eat sweet breads or muffins very often, but zucchini bread was permitted. Quick breads = bad. Zucchini quick bread = have a third slice. It was like the ice cream we were encouraged to eat the last morning of vacation. Then I grew up and started taking my calories without the zucchini, thanks.
But last night, the behemoth zucchini scared me, and I made muffins. The recipe came from Smitten Kitchen. Deb gave me the brownies that have never let me down, and I confidently grated my zucchini and stirred it into the batter. When I came in from putting up my birds, the house smelled comfortable and promising. I spread two muffins with butter and gave one to Matt.
They were just like I remembered. Meh. Not bad, but not great. The dumpy country cousin to a real muffin.
Now I'm on the hunt for real zucchini recipes. Recipes that celebrate the zucchini. Recipes that can't be improved by eliminating the zucchini. I have my eye on a couple recipes like this sandwich from How Sweet It Is and this pasta from The Pioneer Woman. My cousin Jamie sent me one for a quiche that I'm super excited about. And I'm even wanting to try this tart from Smitten Kitchen.
If you have any recipes that you like or are curious about, send them my way. I'll try any recipe you send me with three exceptions:
1. Crazy expensive - if it calls for 24 karat gold dust, it's not happening. Twenty-four carrots are ok.
2. Really weird ingredients - I'll try almost anything. But I'm telling you now, zucchini jello is out of the question.
3. Allergies - if it has cinnamon in it, I have to substitute nutmeg or allspice.
So that's where we're at. Some people challenge themselves to climb mountains or quit smoking. Mark Zuckerberg (spellcheck just tried to change that to cheeseburger, haha!) challenged himself to eat only meat that he's killed himself. I'm challenging myself to eat copious amount of zucchini. Baby steps.
As long as I have recipes and zucchini, I will be blogging zucchini. Stay tuned...
Those first several squash are always exciting. Matt worries that I pick them too soon, but I ignore him and slice them up thin to fry in olive oil. Less than a week later, they are coming in a pretty steady stream. We're eating sauteed squash every other night, and I am polling people at work to find out if any of them will take zucchini. Within days, we are eating it every night and I no longer care if people at work like squash. They are taking it home anyway.
Zucchini baked goods confuse me. Maybe I'm missing something here, but the zucchini bread, zucchini muffin and especially the zucchini chocolate cake all just seem like a way of dealing with excess zucchini: a coping mechanism for zealous home gardeners. It's the human version of peanut butter on Henry's monthly heart-worm pill. You can either make baked goods with a rich, dense crumb or you can make a sub par and equally unhealthy product with shredded zucchini in it. Yum.
As a kid, I didn't complain. We didn't eat sweet breads or muffins very often, but zucchini bread was permitted. Quick breads = bad. Zucchini quick bread = have a third slice. It was like the ice cream we were encouraged to eat the last morning of vacation. Then I grew up and started taking my calories without the zucchini, thanks.
But last night, the behemoth zucchini scared me, and I made muffins. The recipe came from Smitten Kitchen. Deb gave me the brownies that have never let me down, and I confidently grated my zucchini and stirred it into the batter. When I came in from putting up my birds, the house smelled comfortable and promising. I spread two muffins with butter and gave one to Matt.
They were just like I remembered. Meh. Not bad, but not great. The dumpy country cousin to a real muffin.
Now I'm on the hunt for real zucchini recipes. Recipes that celebrate the zucchini. Recipes that can't be improved by eliminating the zucchini. I have my eye on a couple recipes like this sandwich from How Sweet It Is and this pasta from The Pioneer Woman. My cousin Jamie sent me one for a quiche that I'm super excited about. And I'm even wanting to try this tart from Smitten Kitchen.
If you have any recipes that you like or are curious about, send them my way. I'll try any recipe you send me with three exceptions:
1. Crazy expensive - if it calls for 24 karat gold dust, it's not happening. Twenty-four carrots are ok.
2. Really weird ingredients - I'll try almost anything. But I'm telling you now, zucchini jello is out of the question.
3. Allergies - if it has cinnamon in it, I have to substitute nutmeg or allspice.
So that's where we're at. Some people challenge themselves to climb mountains or quit smoking. Mark Zuckerberg (spellcheck just tried to change that to cheeseburger, haha!) challenged himself to eat only meat that he's killed himself. I'm challenging myself to eat copious amount of zucchini. Baby steps.
As long as I have recipes and zucchini, I will be blogging zucchini. Stay tuned...
Friday, August 3, 2012
Tomato Jam: A Love Story
Once upon a time, all throughout the land, people made tomato jam. In heavy pots, chunks of tomatoes would simmer in sugar and spices until they were cooked down into garnet-colored jam. The evocative scent of cinnamon, clove and garlic would linger in the kitchen long after the jam was carefully sealed into little glass jars.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Grilled Bruschetta Chicken
Our tomatoes aren’t quite ripe yet. Every day I go out and water the big green plants with prayers and pleading. In the meantime, my father-in-law has given me tomatoes to tide me over until mine come through. C’mon , little buddies. Ripen!
Food is miraculous. Tomatoes are the only vegetable (fruit?) that we grow in our tiny yard, so the miracle unfolds in front us under the spray of our water hose. I buy my tomato plants in the plant stage because I have no green phalanges. The way they start out as little plants, stretch up through their inadequate cages, and push out tomatoes bursting with the flavors of summer – it all makes me pause in admiration and gratitude.
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