Dreaming of Chili Peppers

Last night I dreamed of chili peppers.

I've been having trouble getting my pepper plants to pollinate, and have been fretting over them. Watching the pale white flowers unfurl so enthusiastically only to shrivel up a few days later and fall off--stem and all--is rather heartbreaking. Besides, I want my peppers.

So far I've only got the one guy pictured above, an anaheim. So obviously I dote on him by taking far too many pictures and nearly knocking him off the stem trying to get a good angle. That's love, alright!

In my dream last night, I was checking up on this pepper when I suddenly looked down and saw fully ripe chili peppers nestled in the dirt. They were bright orange and yellow and red. They seemed to laugh at me, saying, "Silly woman! All you had to do was look for us!"

Anyone who's ever grown fruits or vegetables knows that these plants have a mysterious way of showing nothingnothingnothing. Nothin' but leaf. Then one morning you're casually watering your plants without even expecting anything and you notice one, no two, wait THREE! little fruitlings where there was nothing a minute ago, you swear.

So this is why I half-expected to come out to the garden this morning and find yellow and orange hot peppers winking at me from between the leaves.

Alas, nothing. Just this guy. So we go back to waiting and pretending to expect nothing.

Photo of the Week and February Updates

It doesn't look like much, but I was more proud of this little dish than words can say. Plating dishes--actually arranging the food on the plate in an artful and (hopefully) appetizing way has been a source of anxiety for me since the beginning of the program. It just doesn't come naturally to me. I'd look over at other people's dishes and see spirals of sauce elegantly dripped around the plate or airy floats of lemon zest places just so in a way that brought the whole plate together. And then I'd look at my plate and wince.

Oh, I know my pictures turn out ok, but that, my friends, is the benefit of the macro-zoom. I heart macro-zoom. One side looks saggy? No prob, just zoom in on the other side! Can't find the right sized plate? Well, don't put it in the picture, silly! Ah, the macro.

Anyways, especially at the end of a long class, the last thing I want to do is figure out how to make my hacked-up, sauced, buttery whatever-it-is look pretty. But still. I've been working on it. Trying to get ideas from photos in magazines. Watching other people. Taking a few risks and asking my inner perfectionist to take a chill pill.

So this little tomato salad? This is the first dish I've ever prepared where I made a conscious effort to think about plating before I started the dish and then, lo and behold, carried it through. It's simple, but classy, eh? It's a start!

Oh, and it doesn't taste too bad either!

P.S. Sorry I've been so infrequent with the postings lately. For some reason I had this completely CRAZY idea that I'd be LESS BUSY once I, you know, quit my job? Nope, sorry, hun. Still running around chasing my tail over here. I've been writing, though! Yup, the second round of posts for my interview at The Kitchn are up! Yay! Go check 'em out:

Keeping Braises Moist with an Inverted Lid of Foil
Book Review: Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day
Recipe: No-Knead Challah (from Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day)
Supermarket Saver: How much should you pay for olive oil?

And here's that tomato salad recipe:

Salade de ma Mere
(c) Roberta Dowling, Cambridge School for Culinary Arts

4 plum tomatoes, peeled and seeded (this is easiest to do if you blanch them in boiling water for a few seconds)
2 cloves of garlic, finely minced
1-1 1/2 T Dijon mustard
1/4 c. raspberry vinager or black currant vinegar
1 c. heavy cream
salt and pepper
2 heads Boston lettuce
Chopped chives or chervil for garnish

Clean and slice the tomatoes and put in a salad bowl. In a small bowl, mix together garlic, mustard, raspberry vinegar or black currant vinegar, salt, and pepper. Add the cream and pour over the tomatoes.

Let rest for 30 minutes at room temperature. Clean the lettuce, taking off the rib of the leaves. Add the lettuce to the tomatoes and toss together just before serving. Sprinkle with chopped chives.

Notes:
For my salad, I chopped the tomatoes into small cubes and drizzled them with enough of the dressing to bring it together. (I had about two cups of dressing leftover.) For plating, I arranged a few big leaves of lettuce on a plate (instead of tossing them with the tomatoes) and molded the salad by putting a cookie cutter in the center of the plate and scooping in the tomatoes.

I think this salad could use LOTS more tomatoes--at least 10-15 nice ripe red juicy tomatoes (Dear Summer, I miss you. When will you come again? Love, Emma)

The dressing has a nice tang to it and the cream is nicely mellow without being too creamy, if you know what I mean? I'm actually not a fan of dressings like ranch or bleu cheese, and I thought this was fantastic.

This would be a fantastic first course or side dish at a summer garden party! (Dear Summer, Still no calls? Don't you love us anymore? Kisses, Emma)

First Signs of Spring

The sun was so shiny this morning that immediately upon waking, I flung open all the windows and opened the back door wide, letting in all the fresh air and sunshine I could. Last November when I was cleaning up my little container garden and making everything tidy for winter, there was one stubborn pot of zinneas and snap dragons that just refused to give in to the cold weather and kept popping out new flowers. I decided to let well enough alone and enjoyed the view of these hardy few blossoms through my kitchen window well into December. It was so cold by that point that I never got around to cleaning the dead stems from the pot.

This morning I decided that I was well past due for this particular task--especially since I need to soon start planning more wee little seedlings--and went at it with gusto. I yanked out the dry brittle stalks and rubbed grains of warm, damp soil between my fingers. Task completed, I was patting the soil dreamily with visions of bounty to come when I noticed a little fleck of green off to one side. Closer inspection revealed one tiny zinnea seedling, an ungerminated leftover from last year who somehow knew it would have a very important role to play on this April morning. I sighed with contentment and said a little prayer in thanks of unexpected beauty. New growth from old growth--I'm sure there's a lesson in there somewhere, but for now I will simply stroke its leaves with my fingertip and murmur praises in its lime green ears.

Swiss Chard and Better-Late-Than-Never Scarves: A Kitchen-Sink Post

Hi, folks!

Spring time has me all a flutter over here in Northeastern parts. I've been jealously devouring all the posts from the Northwest bloggers, what with their pictures of flowering trees and their getting-gardens-ready-for-planting. Oh, and the fact that they already have spring produce at their farmers markets. But then just today, I saw the first crocuses blooming around a still-nekkid tree over on Tremont Street. Oh, did my heart twinge with joy. I. Can't. Wait.

Some of you may remember my garden from last year. It was a bit of a disappointment for my first back-porch garden, so I thought I'd scale back a bit this year and start with a fresh perspective on the whole she-bang. First off, I'm scrapping the veggies for the time being. It's just not feasible in my little container garden and I feel really happy about buying produce from my farmer's market, so we'll leave that until I have an actual garden. Or a job that allows me to devote more time to caring for veggies.

I bought a whole mess of flower seeds that I'm planning on scattering willy-nilly in several of my containers. We'll see what pops up with those. Theoretically, I should have already started seedlings or at least (I think) scattered the seeds last fall, but...well...meh? I'll be happy with whatever little flowers decide to poke their faces up at me.

And then (here's my Smartest Move Yet!), I ordered actual seedlings of several different culinary herbs that will magically, miraculously, oh-so-perfectly arrive at my doorstep just when they should be planted in the garden. So wonderful. So perfect. And even so affordable! I think I'm getting six different herbs for about $17. I can't WAIT for fresh herbs again. The more I've gotten into cooking this past fall, the more I've been learning and discovering new ways to use herbs. I didn't feel like I really took advantage of the herbs I grew last summer because I honestly didn't know how to use them--unless a recipe called for a specific herb, I didn't think to try adding anything different. This summer? A whole new kinda Emma, just you wait!

Ok, a few updates:1) I have finally finished Stephen's scarf. I custom knit some Urban Mitts (a.k.a. the Aid-and-Abet Smoker's Gloves) for Stephen last fall (link HERE) and apparently at some point agreed to throw in a hat and scarf with the leftover yarn. I don't actually recall this conversation, but Stephen was quite insistent that it did, indeed, occur. I have my doubts, but nonetheless, I did have leftover yarn and so...why not?! Well, other projects struck my fancy and with this and that, I didn't get around to finishing this scarf until a few weeks ago, just as the weather started to turn. I call it "Stephen's About-Time Scarf" and used the My So-Called Scarf pattern from Sheep in the City (link HERE). I love love love with a cherry on top and a few extra dollops of creme fraiche this pattern. It was fun to knit--never boring--and I felt very accomplished to have mastered the stitch (it's not actually that hard, but it looks that hard--the best of both worlds). The resulting fabric is kind of squishy or spongy, kind of like the waffle-weave on thermal shirts and absolutely perfect for a cozy scarf. I also have dreams of a cardigan in this stitch, but I'm afraid that will have to remain in Knitted Dream Land for a few more months. I knit this scarf length-wise because I was worried about running out of yarn (which I did. I even used all my little tail-scraps to finish binding off the last row! But look how symmetrical I got the stripes to be!). Oh, and a hat? Did I agree to a hat? I don't remember a hat...*Note to anyone out there thinking of commissioning some great knit good from me--I'm more than happy to do it, but don't expect anything in a timely manner. True art takes time, don't ya know. But wine and a steady supply of Top Chef DVDs will also help get the job done. Just sayin'.

2) The next book in the Keys To The Kingdom series by Garth Nix is out and in stores! It's called Lady Friday and picks up the story of our intrepid young hero, Arthur, just as he has taken the fourth key. Unlike the other books in the series which wrapped up the individual book with minimal cliffhangers, the recent book (Sir Thursday) ended practically mid-sentence. I believe I may have gasped when I turned the page and saw that the book just...just...ended! So it is with much delight that I anticipate reading this fifth book. Stay tuned, fellow lovers of young adult fantasy!

3) And last but not least, I leave you with the recipe and mouth watering pictures for my new favorite comfort food: Polenta with Parmesan and Olive Oil Fried Eggs and Garlicky Swiss Chard. Mmm, mmm...good. If only I had a few black truffles to shave on top, this dish would take no prisoners. All the flavors combine so perfectly--especially the creamy polenta, the runny yoke, and the crispy edges. I'm a huge fan of wilted greens, their bitter flavor and slight chew make a great contrast to the egg and polenta. I would like to point out that this simple dish combines every flavor profile: sweet, salty, bitter, sour, and umami.

This dish comes courtesy of the New York Times and their article "A Morning Meal Begs to Stay Up Late," published 2/7/07. (Click HERE for the article--though it may be content protected) I have made a few adaptations from the original recipe.

Polenta with Parmesan and Olive Oil Fried Eggs
Yield--four servings

*Note: This recipe for polenta makes the best polenta I've ever made--very creamy and smooth. It makes several cups, so I usually pour the leftovers into a bread loaf pan, cover with saran wrap, and let set. You can then cut off blocks of polenta as needed from the 'loaf.'

4 1/2 cups broth or water (I use half chicken broth and half water--all chicken broth makes the polenta taste a bit 'tinned,' in my opinion)
1 1/2 cups polenta (not quick-cooking), course corn meal, or corn grits. (I use Goya brand corn meal)
3/4 teaspoon salt
1 1-oz chunk of Parmesan cheese
2 Tablespoons olive oil
8 large eggs (or 1-2 eggs per person)
course sea salt for garnish

1. In a large pot, bring broth/water to a simmer (not boil). Gently shake in the corn meal a bit at a time and add salt. Simmer, stirring as frequently as your arm muscles can stand, until it thickens to taste--between 10 and 20 minutes. Cover pot to keep warm.

*If making the chard as well, start the chard wilting now.

2. Using a vegetable peeler, shave the cheese into slivers. Alternately, grate it on the largest hole of a box grater.

3. In a large skillet, heat 1 tablespoon of olive oil until very hot. Fry 4 eggs at a time until edges are crispy and the yokes are still runny. Repeat with remaining oil and eggs.

4. Pile polenta into 4 bowls and top with first the cheese and then the fried eggs. Garnish with sea salt.

Garlicky Swiss Chard
(if serving with polenta and fried eggs, cut the chard before starting any cooking and then start wilting the chard after the polenta has finished cooking.)

2 bunches of Swiss chard, stems removed (You could really use any leafy green, here. I think I might have actually used collard greens by mistake, and it was still delish.)
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 garlic cloves, minced
Large pinch of crushed red pepper flakes
Juice from one half squeeze lemon
Salt to taste.

1. Stack chard leaves on top of one another (you can make several piles), and slice them into 1/4-inch strips

2. Heat oil in a very large skilled. Add garlic and red pepper flakes, and saute for about 30 seconds, until the garlic is fragrant. Stir in the chard, turning to coat with oil. Cover pan and let cook for about 2 minutes until chard is wilted. Uncover, stir, and cook for 2 minutes longer.

Serve alongside the polenta with fried egg, and squeeze a bit of lemon juice over the top just before serving.

Weight Watchers Points: One egg, a half cup of polenta, a few shavings of Parmesan, and as much chard as you want will equal about 5 points.

Fall Garden Update

Oh, yeah! Remember my garden from months and months ago? The one I was so excited about and yet you haven't seen a single post on it all summer long? Well...I'll say this. It was definitely a learning experience.

First, the success stories: The basil ROCKED but I somehow mistakenly picked a small-leafed variety. It tastes great, but is kind of a pain to harvest a billion small little leaves. The lavender and rosemary finally picked up, and the mint is happy is a bee. I'm going to try keeping these herbs over the winter in hanging pots in my kitchen (lack of counterspace = need for hanging pots), so we'll see how it goes. Anyone out there have advice for keeping summer-loving plants in an apartment over the winter?!

The tomatoes were the biggest disappointment. They were supposed to be nice fist-sized tomatoes, but most of them never got bigger than a cherry tomato. Plus, the majority of them got blossom-end rot and had to be thrown away. I was able to salvage a few, though, and they were much fun to dissect and eat. Very tart and juicy. I used a few in sauces here and there and the tartness tended to overpower the sauce. I found them best on sandwiches (well, the one whole sandwich I was able to make with my handful of cherry-sized tomatoes) or eaten raw with salt. I've been told this just wasn't a good year for tomatoes and I should try again next year. I might need a little recovery time, but I think I'm game for another round in a few months.

The lettuce turned out pretty good, but unfortunately, I realized that I don't eat a lot of lettuce. So...it kinda went to waste. Ok, no lettuce next year. Makes more sense to buy it from the Farmer's Market the few times a summer I want fresh greens.

The flowers were great. The snap dragons still haven't quit popping up. The zinneas lasted a great while, but have now all pretty much withered away in the recent frosty weather. The sunflowers were a bit of a disappointment. Next year, I think I'll do zinneas, snap dragons, and dahlias.

But the real Cinderella story was the pepper plant. Remember how much trouble I was having with the blossoms falling off before the fruit started forming? I tried giving it some nice Epsom salts every week to even out it's...well, I don't know what it was evening out (calcium? water in-take?) but someone told me to try mixing some Epsom salt in the water every now and again. I think this did the trick, because after a while, the blossoms started withering into beautiful-looking peppers. The largest one got to be about half the size of my hand, but no bigger. That's cool with me, but I was more concerned about them ripening into a yellow peppers. But my most mature pepper stubbornly stayed green for weeks and weeks. I wrung my hands and chanted prayers, unsure if it was never going to ripen fully and maybe I should just pluck it now. But it didn't look like it was rotting. It actually looked like it was just...hanging out. You know. Chilling. Catching up on the latest gossip with the other veggies. Too cool for dirt and all that stuff. So I let it chill. And then, a few days ago, I go out to water my melancholy garden and what do I see, but this!

I'm so gosh darn proud! It's now sitting in our refrigerator with all the other grown up veggies looking a bit sheepish and uncomfortable. I think I'll probably cut it into strips and the Engineer and I can eat it raw with a bit of salt. I think my first-ever pepper merits some undivided attention and I don't want it to get lost in a sauce or on top of a pizza. Hopefully now that this guy has crossed the threshold, some of its brethren will do the same. THEN I'll make some sauce!

Garden Update!

Quickie post while I wait for the pasta to achieve the proper al dente consistency. Garden is going well. Basil is my best crop, so far. I've been using it in absolutely everything. My first round of tomatoes suffered blossom end rot, alas. In talking to my gardening friends at work and folks at the farmer's market, I hear blossom rot has been common in a lot of crops this year in New England. I guess it's been too variously hot/cold or too wet/dry, and the plants don't like it so much. I chucked most of them out to encourage new growth, but kept a couple that didn't have it too badly, figuring I could cut away the bad parts. The next round will probably be ripe in another week. A few of them have a tiny bit of rot, but nothing like this. My mom and aunt will be here on Sunday for a week-long vacation (!!!), and I'm hoping to treat them to BLT's and pasta with fresh tomato sauce featuring Emma Grown Tomatoes.

Better luck with the peppers. With them, either the blossoms rotted before the even fruit formed and they fell off, or if they stuck around, the fruit is awesome. Check 'em out! Hard to tell, but these guys are about two inches tall--so cute! Every day they seem to get bigger. Kinda scary, actually. But hopefully soon I'll have a few meals of fresh peppers! Probably won't get a very large crop from these pepper plants in the end, but it's been well worth the fun of trying to get them to grow. I already have big plans for next summer. (Famous last words, eh?)

Emma's Garden Update

Look, baby tomatoes! Finally!

Cooking (by way of Emma's Garden)

Seeing as it's too hot here in Boston to do anything but eat popsicles and box yourself in with fans, I decided to refrain from baking anything requiring a hot oven or knitting anything requiring hot yarn. (My Tamora Pierce Marathon is progressing at a rapid pace, however--I'm on book three in the Protector of the Small series.) In this moment of calm, I thought I'd introduce you to my back porch garden. As a renter, I have decided to try the 'container gardening' approach for the moment. If this goes well, there are several community gardens in my neighborhood that I might explore in seasons to come. Here are the introductions:

Here's the panorama of my garden. From left to right, I have: greens (including arugula, lettuce, spring onions, and various other leafy things that came in a mix seeds packet), orange bell peppers, lavendar, rosemary, basil, mixed flowers (including snap dragons, zinneas, and miniature sunflowers), and two containers of tomatos. I had snow peas earlier in the season, but they're long gone now.

From top to bottom to the right, a close up of a pepper flower (white) and a moth-visitor to my garden.

A close up of a tomato flower (yellow). Several of these flowers have started to fall off, so every morning I scurry in barefeet hoping to see the beginnings of a tomato. Nothing yet, but I am filled with faith and anticipation.

A close up of a zinnea bloom and a snap dragon bloom. All these flowers were sickly at first--I had to re-start the seedling several times. Now that summer is in full swing, though, my single flower pot is a riot of green and plant-competition for sunlight. So far the zinneas are winning most of the sunlight, but the sunflowers are putting up a fight. The snap dragons seem to keep to themselves and poke out where you least expect it.

I don't have any pictures of the herbs cuz they're all kind of boring right now. I'm trying to be patient and coach them along, but worry about the lavendar and rosemary--especially when I walk through the farmer's market and see the vendors hawking splendid tall bushes of these herbs. The basil is slowly coming into its own, and I actually had enough leaves to sprinkle on the last pizza I made. I also just repotted some of the late-starter basil seedling, so I have high hopes for the upcoming weeks.

I've only had two major pest problems so far. A plague of caterpillars nibbled my greens down to nubs before I thought to move the tray to a more creepy-crawly inaccessible location. This got rid of the caterpillars and had the unexpected side bonus of teaching me the value of trimming back leafy greens in order to have them grow back bushier and fuller. Thanks, caterpillars!

My battle against the aphids is on-going. At first they were just on the peppers. Then they moved over to the tomatos. And most recently, I've found them snuggled deep into the lavendar. So far, I've been pretty successful at keeping them under control with soapy water spray. Emma-3. Aphids-nil. I'll keep you posted as the summer progresses.

P.S. I took a bunch of pictures of the pepper and tomato flowers when they were at their peak, but sadly, didn't realize that my camera was on the highest resolution setting, and I had some trouble loading those pictures onto the site. So, alas, the pictures you see are of the flowers slightly past their peak. Next time you visit, I'll make sure to chain you to a chair and show you what a fantastic amateur photographer I am.