When Life Gives You Apples

Our generous neighbor B gave us all the organic, unsprayed apples from her tree that we could pick. After we got home from raspberrying yesterday, we climbed ladders and D got on the roof and we filled bag after bag after box with apples. Some of them will go to the food bank when I work my shift there on Thursday, and I'll can some and freeze some.

But today I made pies. I found this little pocket pie mold from Williams Sonoma at a thrift store over the summer. It seemed like the pies looked better when I cut out the apple shapes and pressed them together by hand, sealing with fork tines, rather than using the press. Here it is (above) unbaked, with egg wash and sprinkled with turbinado sugar . . .

 . . . and here it is hot from the oven.

I made some little free-form apple galettes, just the right size for a lunchbox.

Some gallettes had blueberries, and I made a batch of pocket pies with a whole wheat crust.

And one full-size apple galette, with some of the raspberries we picked yesterday. I dropped some pies off as a thank you to our wonderful apple neighbors, we'll eat the raspberry version tonight, and the rest I'll freeze to pop into lunches. And now I really do have a lot of canning to do.

Raspberry Picking

On Saturday we drove to Hoot 'n Howl Farm, just outside of Boulder, to pick some raspberries.



The first week of school is always hard for me. I miss my little summer companion. It was nice to have her back all day long for the weekend.

I think D likes it too.

Western slope berries. And a kind dad, who says yes when his daughter says "Would you hold my pink bag for me?" That didn't stop me from making fun of him.





The farm is a wonderful place. It seems like such a labor of love. You can walk right out into the fields and pick, following the signs for which rows are open. Then you weigh your produce and pay for it on the honor system, putting cash into a little tin can. They had heirloom tomatoes and beautiful vegetables, apples and peaches for sale at their honor system farmstand. Now R knows where raspberries come from, and what hard, hot, thorny work it is to fill one of those little supermarket clamshells. And I have a lot of canning to do.

Happy New Year!

A mezze platter to take to our friends' house tonight. Hummus, olives and crudités with homemade baked pita chips. And raw dolmades, with grape leaves I canned from our vines this summer, and a diced parsnip (instead of rice), pine nut, red pepper, avocado, lemon juice and tomato filling.

I have been reading so many "good riddance 2011" articles, about what a terrible year it has been. I work at our parish food bank, and that is where you see it. The people working two and three jobs who still can't feed their families, the hard workers who are skilled and experienced in struggling industries, who used to make a great living, but just can't find work any more. My family has so many more pressures and barely-squeaking-by times than we ever used to have. We are skating very close to the margins every month. But it still bothers me to ring out the old year with contempt. It was a good year! We had so much fun. Right in the middle of it, R turned from a shy sweet funny seven year old to a shy even sweeter and funnier eight year old.

So from a very selfish perspective, I have loved this year. The garden and D and Charlie and R, a child who is busting out all over with so much new information and excitement about life that she talks out loud in her sleep. Last night she was reading Roald Dahl's Matilda under the covers with a flashlight, and she got to the part that lists the books that four year old Matilda reads. It is such a great list that I will have to put it here:

• Great Expectations
• Nicholas Nickleby
• Oliver Twist
• Jane Eyre
• Pride and Prejudice
• Tess of D'Urbervilles
• Gone to Earth
• Kim
• The Invisible Man
• The Old Man and the Sea
• The Sound and the Fury
• The Grapes of Wrath
• The Good Companions
• Brighton Rock
• Animal Farm

And with each new title R would shout out to me, muffled from under her blankets, "What is that one about? Who wrote it?" and when I explained the authors and plots of the ones I knew (all of them but Gone to Earth? The Good Companions? Brighton Rock?), she would yell out, "Could you get that for me to read?" And she knows I will, I'll add it to her giant and growing bookshelf downstairs.

You could say that it has been a pretty universally awful year for--for, I don't know what to call it. For what I think is important in culture, social justice, general quality of life for humans. For some modicum of moral responsibility that would check or temper greed, or lacking that, legal restraints imposed by a wise and ethical and considered body. A friend made me laugh last month when she blurted out "There's one for our side!" about something in the news. That's why I love this Tennyson poem so much. Let the bad of the old year die. There was tiredness and falseness in it, but "ring out wild bells, and let him die."  There was so much goodness too. Call out the bad things and work to fix them. But ring out the wild bells, against the snow!

In Memoriam, [Ring out, wild bells]
by Lord Alfred Tennyson

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
   The flying cloud, the frosty light:
   The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,
   Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
   The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true . . . 

Ring out the want, the care, the sin,
   The faithless coldness of the times;
   Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes
But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,
   The civic slander and the spite;
   Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good . . .

Ring in the valiant man and free,
   The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
   Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.

Hibiscus Bento

Carrots and a radish rose; lemon hibiscus apples that I canned on Saturday, with oranges; organic granola bar and almonds; cheddar and whole grain crackers on spinach salad; and cherry-flavored dried cranberries in the center.
 
I canned a lot of apples this weekend. My generous neighbor Becky always gives us the apples from her unsprayed tree in October, but this year they were all black at the center (codling moth?), so we only got a couple of jars of pie filling out of them. I finally broke down and used store-bought apples, because we love opening jars of spiced apples and applesauce all year long. I made spiced apples for pie filling, and tried something new with dried hibiscus blossoms. Hibiscus blossoms are high in vitamin C and anti-oxidants, and they have a lot of heart-healthy compounds. They give the apples a fresh, citrusy taste that is complemented by fresh lemons. I infused green tea in the syrup, but the flavor didn't come through. The blossoms turn the apples a beautiful natural rosy color. I sweetened the apples lightly with agave.
 
R really likes these, and the jars look so pretty lined up on a shelf with the sun shining through. The dried blossoms make a nice tea too, either added to black or green tea, or by themselves with honey and lemon.

Strawberry Sweet Woodruff Preserves Day 1

This is my second summer of canning and preserving. Last year, I learned that what sells fastest at farmer's markets and makes the best gifts to friends, is berry preserves. That's what we use the most of in our house too. All winter long we bring jars up from the basement. We met our goal of no store-bought jam for a year, even after giving lots of jars away.
A trifle dish holds four pounds of strawberries.

I don't like commercial pectin, so I have learned the French method where you macerate the fruit in sugar overnight, then bring it to a boil and let it sit for another six hours or overnight. Then you boil only the syrup to the gelling point, and add the fruit at the end, so the fruit stays whole and doesn't overcook while you're boiling away to the gel point.This year for the first time, I'm adding the sweet woodruff while the berries macerate, instead of while they are cooking.

Sweet woodruff is an herb that's a natural accompaniment to berries. It tastes like vanilla and grass. We have it all over our backyard, and I am so grateful to whoever planted it years ago.

Strawberry Sweet Woodruff Preserves Day 2

After the strawberries have steeped overnight in sugar and sweet woodruff, put them in a sturdy pot and bring them to a boil. I like a lot of bright, clean lemon flavor, so I add lemon slices to infuse while it boils.

Then let the mixture sit for another two or three hours at room temperature, or six hours in the fridge. This two-step process helps separate the liquid from the fruit, so you can reduce just the liquid and then add the fruit at the end. This is the only way for fragile fruit like strawberries to keep their shape and not turn into mush. Put the fruit in a colander, and drain the syrup into a pot.

Strawberries are very low in pectin, so I add a high-pectin fruit like green apples to help the jam to set without overcooking. I dice the apples and put them in the syrup. I also put the skins and seeds and cores in a mesh bag, and float that bag in the boiling syrup. Skins and cores have a lot of pectin, and it will leach out of the bag. You can push on the apple bag with a spoon to release more pectin, but be careful not to splash yourself with boiling jam.

Sterilize your jars and lids and tools in boiling water while you wait for the syrup to reach gel point. Waiting for gel point takes some patience and attention. Each batch took about 40 minutes for me today, at mile-high altitude. It's easier and faster to use commercial pectin, but it requires much more sugar, and I don't like the texture. This method makes a luxurious preserve, with strawberries and little squares of candied apple suspended in clear, ruby-red jelly.

Keep a close eye on the jam while it's boiling.

Just before it reaches gel point, the frothing reduces and the bubbles get bigger. You can almost feel it seizing up a bit when you stir it. The color is amazing, a deep, glowing pomegranate-red.

To check the set, use the plate test. Put a plate in the freezer, and drop some jam on the cold plate. Put it back in the freezer for a minute or two. If the jam wrinkles when you push it with a finger, it's done. Add the strawberries back in, and boil for another 5 minutes or so, until they are hot through.

Ladle the hot preserves into the sterilized jar. A jam funnel helps keep the outside of the jar clean. Remove air bubbles, cap the jar with a hot lid, and screw on a ring.

Place the filled jars in a boiling water bath, with rapidly boiling water to cover the lids by at least two inches. Follow boiling instructions for your altitude.

Nine pounds of strawberries turned into 14 pints of preserves. I used four cups of sugar and four and a half pounds of strawberries for each batch. There is nothing better than the 'ping' sound as the jars seal when you take them out of the boiling water bath.


The preserves are silky and gorgeous. The familiar strawberry taste, with a note of vanilla and grass from the sweet woodruff, and a bright citrus pop from the lemon.

Please note that this is not meant to be a comprehensive instruction about canning. It's important to follow all the rules carefully for a safe end product, so be sure to follow an approved method.

Late Summer Garden

Back in school, birthday over. Harvesting and canning and wondering how early first frost will come this year. Lots of blog posts to catch up on. For now, some shots of the early-September garden and R's little neighbor friends playing in it.

These sweet peas are so glorious. Worth all the work of growing them from seed.

All picked this morning. These are mostly Opalka tomatoes, the oval paste ones that are best for canning. I have a lot of sauce to make! I borrowed a dehydrator and it's working right now, filled with zucchini chips and tarragon. The peppers that we don't eat in the next few days I'll cut up and freeze, or use as a little hit of color in pickles.

I sold some of these at our neighborhood farmer's market in August.

Early morning sun on the just-picked tomatoes.

Pasta salad with lots of tomato varieties. Kellog's Breakfast are the orange, then there's Green Zebra, Paul Robeson (my neighbor Julie calls them Roy Orbison, which cracks me up!), and black cherry and lollipop (yellow cherry).

Funny girls and some overgrown broccoli.

Ready for pickling.

Cosmos, bean and cucumber blossoms, and Fairy Tale eggplant.



Strange to think that there could be snow on the ground in a month.