Musable

It’s funny how things sneak up you. For instance, for the past week I’ve been noticing a strange thing about the cucumbers, and have found more than a few tiny cukes withering on the vine, pale yellow and sickly when they had been a vibrant green when they had appeared as the first non-pea, non-bean items in the garden. The peas and beans don’t seem to care about anything that’s going on, pumping out fruits as fast as we can pick them.

The cukes, on the other hand, after a slowish start, have begun to take over, climbing up the trellises, into the cabbages and the microsprinklers, attempting to strangle both, reaching over a three foot gap to attach to yet another cucumber, and then both heading over another three foot gap to the garden fence itself.

Still, I fretted over the baby cukes. The people who come in and out of this house like fresh cukes plain, in a sour cream and dill sauce, as pickles, in salads, and so on. It simply would not do to have a bunch of wimpy cucumber plants refusing to yield to the mammals at the top of the food chain. Today, while feeding the corn some tasy (stinky) high nitrogen, all natural food, I worked my way over toward the cukes and started pulling up more grass (thanks, neighbor, for having your yard guy heavily overseed on some of the windiest days ever!). And discovered what I’d missed while looking a bit too closely at the tiny, failing cukes instead of looking at the larger picture and writing off those tiny failures as test balloons, of a sort.

Over four pounds of cucumbers this  morning. Note to self: stay on top of the hunt for these things so the gigantic, behemoth cukes are picked before they are gigantic, behemoth cukes.

It’s amazing the tools that are created over time, designed to make peoples’ lives easier. Like this one.

What is it, you ask? Why, a butter churn, of course. Designed for smaller batches than the old upright butter churns people may be used to, this one is small enough to sit on the counter and has wooden paddles in an interlocking fan shape attached to a spindle which in turn is hand cranked.

When we skimmed cream off our milk previously to make butter, we would put it in a quart size canning jar and shake it. This is slow work, and can be painfful if you have smaller hands and the quart jar tests the limits of your grip. With this churn, you simply hold on to a handle in the top fitting and turn the crank. After a bit, the cream gets foamy, like above.

One thing you should not do is overfill the churn and spin too quickly. Well, that’s two things, because the cream expands (as it becomes whipped cream with a lot of air incorporated) and overfilling the churn can result in a bit of overflow, as the streak on the jar shows. Soon enough, though, the cream collapses back onto itself as the fat globules come together and bind with one another and the whey is left to its own devices. It’s quite sudden when it happens, and can be surprising when you’re churning away at what was heavy, whipped cream only to find the handle begin spinning very easily and the jar once again becomes clear.

When that happens, it’s time to pour off the whey from the butter. This churn has a handy spout for that purpose (which also allows air into the jar during the churning process).

It’s only good manners to share a bit of cream with a friend.

Turn the butter out, rinse it a few times, and pack it away.

The best thing about this is that the paddles and the jar are remarkably clean after the churning. A simple wash and you’re ready to go again whenever there’s some cream to be churned.

I know, I have been a tremendous slacker of late, not keeping those near and far up to date on the happenings at the homestead. Three birthdays in the span of three and a half weeks, two of which were major affairs, plus work, plus the onset of spring - well, let’s just say that things have been quite busy here at Lazy Dog Ranch. It’s also tax season here, and we won’t even discuss that at all.

Instead, we’ll go back in time a couple of weeks, to the big birthday bash for my nephew: one year, and he’s changed from an always-screaming, never-smiling, quite silent baby to a happy, talkative baby (who still has quite stinky poo).

Given that this was a rather momentous event, much like my sister’s 30th, of course it had to be a large gathering (this time, comprised mostly of people I myself didn’t know), and of course, there had to be food. We decided on no hot dogs for the party, since we really don’t like feeding hot dogs to other peoples’ kids (has no one seen Field of Dreams?). My sister specifically requested pulled pork, and we also settled on chicken tenders (both with and without barbecue sauce), and hamburgers, to round out the carnivorous side of the menu.

Some things can be made in advance. Like a double batch of sauce.

Other things must be made in advance, since they take about 19 hours to properly cook.

The rest is a matter of prep so the day of the event doesn’t absolutely kill you with all the things that need to be done. That means pulling some carrots fresh out of the ground…

…and cleaning them up to go along with the other vegetables that are prepped for the roasted vegetables to be served along with everything else.

This gathering called for a triple batch of rolls, so the beginnings of that had to be pulled out too.

Don’t forget to vacuum the dog.

Be sure to pull the rolls out of the cold room for their final proof before they go in the oven.

Some homemade hummus - very garlicky, by Mom’s request.

A bit of potato salad and some corn pudding.

The big stuff: pulled pork, chicken tenders (with and without sauce), and burgers:

Virginia Woolf said that everyone needs a room of their own, but sometimes a cake of one’s own will do. Especially if you’re one.

For some reason, I just find this photo incredibly amusing - probably because it looks like he has the candle up his nose.

Marie Antoinette suggested it. Don’t blame me.

Oh, and did I mention the focaccia?

The kid cleaned up in the gift department, of course. We cleaned up the aftermath, and declared the big party season over until Labor Day, at which point we’ll do all this all over again to close out the summer.

I know, I know: what have you been up to lately, that you have neglected your poor handful of readers?

Beyond listening to the whining of some asshat who is going to “recommend to his client” that she change to another host - after that client has been with us for seven years, I might add - because we don’t provide the phone support he has decided is necessary, when we can read the ticket, find the account, determine the issue, report it to the actual client for their directions on proceeding, and resolve the immediate issue in the meantime in under 20 minutes while this douche would rather be on hold for that same length of time before getting to a live person….well, I’ve been working, inside and outside. And there was this 30-year birthday bash for my sister, who insists that it was actually her second anniversary of her 29th birthday.

There was food, of course. Like a spinach dip to start people off.

Crabcakes that I threw together, shaped, and put in the freezer that morning to store for the party.

These plus the other two trays were fried off in some olive oil.

By far the best batch I’ve ever made. There were none left, unfortunately, to leave uncooked in the freezer for meals or snacks later. Four pounds of crabmeat in these.

We also had some croissants with crab and artichoke spread. These were set under the broiler with a crumb topping on them and were mighty tasty.

I had smoked a couple of pork butts and roasted a chicken as well. My sister also requested tofu. I marinated it in a ginger-lime sauce.

Then seared that off in some olive oil, too.

What gathering would be complete without rolls?

Nothing like a fresh roll out of the oven.

None of these survived the day, either.

For dessert, mini angel food cakes with a warm berry sauce.

Oh, and let’s not forget the homemade whipped cream.

Not a bad way to spend a day, surrounded by friends and family, even if all the family could not be there.

Which of these is Subway’s sweet onion sauce and which is mine?

Hard to tell, right? That’s the point of recreating something you have a taste for in your home.

The three and a half days I spent with my gastro distress a couple of weeks ago also resulted in me not eating much of anything. At the end of that week, we sent The Boy out to get some food, and I had Subway’s sweet onion chicken teriyaki. Unlike the things I had eaten thoughout the week to try to get my system on track and without immediately losing whatever I ate, this stayed down. The next day, The Boy was out again, so I had him swing by and bring me another. That one, however, was not as good - the “sandwich artist” or whatever the hell they are calling themselves these days clearly did not graduate at the top of her class: too much mayo, sauce, and leaky tomatoes resulted in the thing disintegrating in my hand. So, being me, I decided I could make my own, sauce included. And I did. And it was mighty tasty - slightly sweeter than theirs, given the taste issues I have.

For the record: the top is theirs, the bottom is mine.

Before I was stricken with that nasty bug, I had harvested some broccoli and carrots from the garden.

We’re ready for our closeup, Mr. DeMille.

Don’t forget us!

I figure you shouldn’t leave fresh vegetables all cleaned up with nowhere to go. Einstein agrees. You can tell.

What to make? We were feeling like a little stirfry: carrots and broccoli right from the garden, and beef from the quarter cow we bought from a (local) producer.

Grass-fed beef, marinating.

The beef went in first, with various spices and a little soy.

The carrots, broccoli, water chestnuts, and bamboo shoots went in, with another round of seasonings and a little liquid.

Serve it over rice, and you have a healthy, homemade meal that didn’t take terribly long to put together. This is my plate - I skip the water chestnuts and bamboo.

Good stuff, but I think I’m having an issue with rice as a cause of heartburn for me. Both after that meal and after tonight’s (black eyed peas, rice, cornbread), a dose of pepto was definitely in order. Suppose I’ll have to test this theory, even though if it is true, it involves at least one more round of this burn. The things we do for science…

I had plans today, I really did. Gorgeous day, which means outside time, in the garden.

As it turned out, Mom and I wound up taking a short hop to Whole Foods, to look at chicken - comparing costs of organic chicken from various places to the pricing from our source in Lake City - and pick up a few things, like buffalo mozzarella and, amazingly enough, raw milk (marked, appropriately, as for pet food only).

The boys were making breakfast when we got back, carving up thick slices of the bread I made for french toast. After a breakfast break, I intended to go outside, but wound up having a nap instead. My energy levels have been rather low lately, because I’m not getting enough good sleep, not eating enough, or because of the meds (or a combination of all of the above). When I got up, my sister was here, with the baby, and the kids were playing Scrabble. So, instead of going outside, I did a few work-related things and then made dinner while they moved on to cards.

Honey barbeque chicken tenders. I carved up some breasts, gave them a tumble in a flour mixture, fried them for a couple of minutes, then dipped them in barbeque sauce and honey and stuck them in the oven to finish.

We had some green beans and potatoes with parsley and garlic.

The little man loved it.

So did the other little man and his cohorts, when I dropped a couple of tenders trying to pack them away.

Tomorrow, as they say, is another day. Bread, for certain, but I’d really like to get out and get the peanuts going, along with the next rounds of potatoes, and replace the beans that killed themselves by coming up right before the hard freeze. It’s also time to take another look at the flats and see which of the seeds just are not pulling their weight and replace them with something else. I found one seedling that came up, but after a few days, the stem thinned to the width of a thread and it fell over, dying. Since the other seedlings haven’t exhibited the same thing, I’m not overly concerned about them falling face first into the soil - just one of those wonderful variations in the natural world.

This is what happens to my hands in very cold weather.

Those are cracks. Yes, they hurt. Yes, they bleed. Luckily for me, extreme cold doesn’t last very long here, and this will clear up in no time.

On tap today: more bread.

Enough for another three loaves of bread. One of those loaves is now down to a quarter of its size, only 30 minutes out of the oven. Tomorrow will be another bread day, I can feel it.

The seedlings went back outside to bask in the full, warm sunshine.

We brought them back in for tonight, as there’s frost (but no freeze) forecast for the area. Better safe than sorry, at least while they’re portable.

We are definitely having broccoli with dinner tomorrow night.

(Sidebar: you know, if you don’t want to renew a domain, perhaps notifying us of that fact when the invoice is generated would be better than telling us this when the invoice is processed - and the domain subsequently renewed. The renewal invoice generates in advance, after all.)

The cheddar cauliflower, alas, did not make it through the hard freeze Thursday night. There are apparently limits for it, and the upper teens plus a windchill in the single digits was not an environment it likes. No problem: I have more cauliflower seeds started in the flats.

The garlic is doing quite well, judging from the tops.

I can’t wait to start pulling some, to get a good look at it.

The brussels survived the freezes and are starting to take shape.

Shouldn’t be too much longer for these, which is good news for the people who actually eat these things.

The new round of peas (mostly) made it through the freezes this week.

There are a few here and there that look iffy at best. If they don’t perk up, I’ll pull them and reseed those. The snap beans that had come up all withered in the freeze and must be replanted.

While I was watering and weeding, and checking for damage, it felt like I was being watched.

And so I was, in a way.

Another root canal. One of the rather unfortunate side effects of having your head blasted with radiation, I’m afraid. By the time I’m finished, I’ll probably have an entire mouth full of root canals and crowns. The procedures are quite painful, and not because of the root canals themselves (although those are painful while they’re being done): rather, the pain is in my jaw and the connective tissue in my mouth from having to open as widely as possible so they can work at the back of my mouth. They had someone training today, as well - how lucky was she to get to assist on my appointment? Two hours and fifteen minutes later, part one of the procedure was done. Canals found, drilled, filled. Next time we get to do the remainder of the buildup, and then the attempts begin to get an impression of a crown. On the plus side, the vicodin knocks the aftereffect pain down to manageable levels and after about three or four days, things are back to as normal as they can be.

This morning it was 18 degrees when I left the house, with ice all over the car. There are reasons I don’t live up north. This is one of them. I checked out the new pea sprouts, and they appear to have made it through - atleast, they were all standing, frozen - but the beans didn’t like the hard cold snap at all and I didn’t see a single sprout left. Luckily, I have a large bag of bean seed, since my uncle requested some, and we want to do a lot of canning of beans and peas this spring before the weather gets too hot and it’s time to yank them out. Tonight, with any luck, will be the final freeze of the season, and work can begin in earnest outside. The flats return to the great outdoors tomorrow and will stay there, basking in the glory and heat of the sunshine.

Several of the heirloom tomatoes have sprouted, but I can already see one that has snapped at the base of the stem. Since they’re inside, there is no real reason for that to happen, and I’m afraid that some of these varieties don’t want to work for me here. That’s fine: I’ll just replace them with somthing else. This weekend, it will be time to pull the original pea sets and take some photos of what’s going on out there in the garden. The brussels have little sprouts on their stems, and about time, at that. There should be some broccoli for harvest, and the garlics will be coming into the end of their season, ready for pulling and hanging.

We are coming up on spring, and that means spring cleaning - of the cages at the NOC. I forced the boy to come along for the ride, and we pulled out a dozen old servers and old hard drives that need to be destroyed. My goal for the weekend: scavenge the servers for spare parts, replace the drives in a couple that are fine but need larger drives and more memory, and get the dead/replaced drives ready to go to that big bit bucket in the sky.

What a life. We still need to go through some of the cheesemaking projects we have planned. We did a round of mozzarella, which was quite delicious, and worth another round for our homemade pizzas. Next up, some simpler items, like cottage cheese (we made this in my AP Chemistry class, back in the day, and I recall only myself and a couple of others were willing to eat it) and ricotta. Then, some more ambitious plans, like our own cheddar, with a homemade cheese press. That’s going to be something, and yet another experiement to document for the blog here. I wouldn’t mind trying some parmesan, too. Eventually, our raw milk supplier will be able to provide some more milk, or we’ll just go get some elsewhere, because mom found an old fashioned butter churn that we’re anxious to try. Plus, that milk will be better for cheesemaking than the ultra-pasteurized stuff in most cases.

Gonna be a good year for all these sorts of things. I can feel it. And I don’t think that’s just the pain meds talking, either.

Another day turning into another month. The Big Game is on today, and I seem to recall something else scheduled as well. What could it be?

Ah, right.

The Boy’s birthday. Said Boy would like everyone to know that the sunset photo from that cold, cold night in January was taken by him. He was out in the front of the property, with me, taking photos while I was hustling to get things covered before the light disappeared completely. Slacker. I kid, I kid. He did assist and we got everything bundled up that night.

His birthday dinner: steak, baked potatoes, broccoli au gratin. As bonuses, guacamole…

and a couple of batches of homemade ice cream, at Gabrielle’s request. Strawberry and an experiment on my part:

That is chocolate espresso. Judged by mom and Gabs to be fine indeed. Me, I drink quite a bit of coffee, but the only coffee-flavored thing I like is…coffee.

We had our official taster standing by.

He had quite a bit of guacamole earlier - who knew he would like it so much? - but there was something else that had to be tested.

Hmm. Ever so piquant, and thoroughly enjoyable buttercream, with dazzling colors.

The full effect on the palate canot be overstated.

Highly recommended. Cake for all!