Molly Sheridan
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Molly

Tangled In Garlic Scapes

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What happened was this: I had been emailed a heads-up that as part of the summer farmers’ market opening weekend, my CSA (a.k.a. One Straw Farm) would have garlic scapes on the table. As my own garden garlics seems to have mysteriously keeled over and quit where they lay (victims of wild urban animals or overly strong rain storms, I’m not sure which) I was excited to still have a chance at this seasonal treat. Paging through my pickling books, I got excited for the brined version, so I brought home two hefty bunches and prepared to stuff them in jars. I also picked up a few other things.

First market haul of the summer 2012 season.

First market haul of the summer 2012 season.

On reflection, I realized that I was already somewhat overstocked in the pickle department (especially after making a few jars of dill pickle spears and a second batch of that rhubarb chutney I’m infatuated with). Plus honestly, I really didn’t want to wait to eat them. Still, in my enthusiastic preparation for what I thought was to be a canning project, I had acquired 24 of them and I shuddered to think that they’d now turn yellow and quietly rot away at the bottom of my produce-packed crisper drawer. There was the garlic scape pesto option, but I already had a batch of kale pesto taking care of that culinary need (esp. when it came to egg sandwiches–highly recommend!).

And so, as I often do, I turned to Google, and Heidi Swanson’s recipe for Garlic Scape Soup–calling for a perfectly portioned two dozen scapes–came to the rescue.

Garlic Scape Soup

Garlic Scape Soup
Only slightly proportionally adapted from Super Natural Cooking (My potatoes were quite large and I like a thinner soup.)

2 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil (I am loving the California Olive Ranch brand lately. It has a strong, almost grassy taste.)
24 garlic scapes, flowers removed and chopped
3 large russet potatoes, cubed (no need to peel)
5-6 cups vegetable broth
3 cups spinach
2 T fresh lemon juice
1 cup whole milk
salt and pepper to taste

In a large soup pot, heat oil and sauté scapes for a few minutes. Next, add potatoes and broth and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer until potato cubes break apart easily when pierced with a fork, about 30 minutes. Remove pot from heat, add spinach, and puree the soup (an immersion blender is really the way to go here). Add lemon juice, milk, salt and pepper, and continue to blend until well combined. Adjust seasoning. You may need to add additional salt until, as Heidi puts it, “the flavors really pop.”

DIY: Housemade Bitters and the Wonderland White Manhattan

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I tossed “how to make your own house bitters” into Google’s search engine so many times, I’m no longer sure where the original impulse came from. Given my love for odd ingredients, science experiment-like kitchen activity, and small jars, however, it’s not difficult to see why the fascination stuck. After combing through some online instruction, this recipe published in Food + Wine (and contributed by Brad Thomas Parsons, the man who literally wrote the book on bitters) seemed a manageable place to wade into the pond.

Recipe selected, it was time to go shopping! I don’t know about your kitchen, but my pantry wasn’t already stocked with devil’s club root and wild cherry bark. Online retailers such as the Dandelion Botanical Company, however, were ready to outfit me. I must admit feeling a certain “earth mama meets wicked witch” vibe while scanning the shop’s inventory and selecting my poisons, er, I mean, herbs. I also ordered a copy of Parsons book for good measure. I could already feel that this was going to be habit forming.

bitters ingredients

Bitters Making

Once I received my collection of small ziplock baggies filled with various dried leaves and twigs, I measured out all the required bitters-making ingredients into a jar and had it all made up in a manner of minutes. The most difficult part of the recipe was the waiting–in total, the process takes a little over two weeks–and remembering to shake the mixture each evening. (In the end, B set a recurring alarm for us on his phone.)

As time wore on, there was some required straining and boiling, but mostly more waiting. Eventually the time arrived to add the final bit of maple syrup and bottle this concoction. For want of small bottles, it was time to go shopping again! (Now, shopping is not normally an activity I enjoy, but in the virtual aisles of Specialty Bottle, I think I began to understand how most women must feel in shoe stores.)

Bitters Bottles

Admittedly, now as I read through recipes for such interesting things as Rhubarb Bitters, I see that my autumnal-toned bitters may have been a little heavy for the season. Indeed, its warm and rich taste profile is well matched to bourbon and rye and apple pie. I was not about to wait for the falling leaves before using it, however, so Wonderland Mixologist Brian Sacawa designed us a drink to imbibe in the meantime.

Housemade Bitters and the White Manhattan

Wonderland White Manhattan

2 oz. Catoctin Creek Organic Mosby’s Spirit
1/2 oz. dry vermouth
1/2 oz. bénédictine
2 dashes Woodland Bitters
Cherry

Fill a cocktail shaker with ice and measure in all the liquid ingredients. Stir, don’t shake, the drink and strain into a chilled coupe. Garnish with a cherry.

Housemade Bitters and the White Manhattan

Grilled Fresh Caught Trout (Gone Fishin’ Edition)

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I’ve recently been dipping my toes here and there into seafood eating. Having been a lacto-ovo vegetarian since I turned 15, however, I’m confronting a few issues as I break this streak. First, psychologically, I can get hung up on the idea of meat eating when a plate of otherwise well-prepared food is set down in front of me, all made worse by the fact that my stomach sometimes balks in parallel sympathy. Secondly, however, like that one girl freshman year who had never done her own laundry, I have zero meat cooking knowledge and experience. When B asks me how long to roast a chicken or how to make a meatball, I panic, my eyes reflecting that “deer in headlights” look that’s apparently attractive but makes me question my self-worth as a homemaker.

It also makes me a highly motivated student, however, so when last weekend’s activities in Vermont took a turn to include some fresh caught trout, I poked my nose and my camera lens in to see if I might learn a thing or two. The key seemed to be to keep the fish alive for as long as possible before cooking (I never caught a “fishy” whiff) and to use a very sharp knife when the time came. Kaylon, the woman whose skilled hands you will see at work in these photos, decided to remove the heads of the fish, slicing as close to the gills as possible to keep as much meat on the body. Then, with a quick slit down the belly, the entrails were removed generally in a single go. I know I would not have been so smooth, but at least I feel like if I find myself stranded on an island and I actually manage to catch a fish, I’ll have some clue as to how to prepare it. After that, it was just a very hot, very clean grill, a little lemon, oil, salt and pepper, and dinner was ready. Paired with a few cobs of grilled corn drizzled with lime juice, this was a meal not soon to be forgotten.

Grilled Fresh Caught Trout

Grilled Fresh Caught Trout

Catch enough trout to feed your party. Clean the fish, rinse well, and pat dry. Brush with olive oil inside and out, and fill cavity with lemon slices, salt and pepper (plus whatever herbs suit your tastes, if desired).

On a hot grill, cook each fish for about 5 minutes per side–taking care when turning–until fish is cooked through and flaky. Serve immediately with melted butter and additional lemon wedges.

Grilled Fresh Caught Trout: Cleaning the fish

Grilled Fresh Caught Trout: Cleaning the fish

Grilled Fresh Caught Trout: Cleaning the fish

Grilled Fresh Caught Trout: Cleaning the fish

Grilled Fresh Caught Trout: Cooking the fish

Grilled Fresh Caught Trout: Cooking the fish

A Roasted Potato or Two (Fermented Mustard Edition)

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This roasted potato recipe has been copied, adapted, and praised all over the internet, so I wouldn’t have bothered posting about it myself if I hadn’t also been looking for the chance to tell you about this fermented mustard. Of course you may use store-bought (I’ve always made it that way before) and it is a very satisfying way to quickly prepare simple red skinned new potatoes (I promise you), but this variation–a unique mustard, a brightly colored mix of purple fingerling and sweet potatoes, plus a few sliced shallots–made it an especially fun dish.

Mustard Spiked Roasted Potatoes

The fermented mustard was a recent kitchen experiment of mine inspired by this post on Well Preserved. We’ve been enjoying the resulting condiment on sandwiches and such, but even though I’m guessing the high-heat roasting removes some of the health benefits that regular eaters of lacto-fermented foods are looking for, it was still a great tasting (and great smelling while roasting) addition to this dish. The shallots turned sweet in the oven, some a little crispy (these bits I hoarded for myself), and the color in the potatoes deepened into rich jewel tones.

The verdict: a perfect side for a summer cookout.

Mustard Spiked Roasted Potatoes

Mustard Spiked Roasted Potatoes
My take on an already popular recipe further inspired by Joy the Baker

1 quart purple fingerling potatoes, halved
1 sweet potato, cubed to a similar depth
2-3 shallots, halved and sliced
1/2 cup fermented mustard or whole grain Dijon
2 T olive oil
2 T melted butter
3 T lemon juice
Salt and pepper to taste

Line a rimmed baking sheet with foil and preheat the oven to 425°F while you prepare the vegetables and dressing.

Whisk together mustard, olive oil, melted butter, lemon juice, salt, and pepper. Place cut vegetables into a large bowl and drizzle with the dressing, tossing until pieces are evenly coated. Spoon the vegetables out onto the baking sheet, leaving any excess dressing in the bowl. Roast for 25-35 minutes–stirring half way through–until the potatoes have browned and are easily pierced with a fork. Enjoy with the picnic fare of your choice, or straight out of the bowl when no one is looking.

Spring Pea and Asparagus Soup

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It’s time again to play “Last Week’s Supper Is This Week’s Soup”!

It’s not quite as desperate as it sounds. I like this game because it’s teaching me a lot about combining various in-season vegetables and neatly preventing me from having to waste any leftover produce even after the first or second dish I needed it for has long since been consumed.

This week I was also able to introduce a new player into the basket–peas! As I have been not hesitant to mention, the debut of fresh peas at the local farmers market is particularly exciting to me. I quickly claimed 2 lbs., as if the ladies standing around me were a threat and might snatch them all away before I could make my purchase.

Home again I checked the fridge only to realize I’d “lost” a bunch of asparagus from last week in the bottom of the crisper drawer. But there it had sat, well wrapped but without water for quite a few days. I also came up with some mint and a few spring onions. These forces combined, I had a soup bursting with bright green color and all the refreshing and energizing taste I was hoping to capture.

Green Spring Pea and Asparagus Soup

4 spring onions, sliced
one bunch asparagus, woody ends trimmed and spears cut into 1″ pieces
3 cups fresh peas
4 cups vegetable broth
handful of mint leaves, chopped
salt and pepper to taste
1 1/2 cups buttermilk

Place broth in a large soup pot and bring to a boil. Add asparagus and onion to the pot and cook for 5 minutes. Add peas and cook 3 minutes more. Remove pot from heat, add in the mint, salt, and pepper, and puree. Stir in the buttermilk and adjust seasonings as needed. Enjoy warm or chilled.

Green Spring Pea and Asparagus Soup

Pretty in Pink Week: Texas Ruby Red Grapefruit Cake with a Hint of Mint

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And so we come to the close of pink week in Wonderland with this lovely, perfect-for-spring bundt cake. While I swear it looked a little pinkish in the original recipe picture, it was, in fact, not pink at all. However, I’m having trouble getting too broken up about that because this cake is fantastic. I don’t usually get terribly excited about sweet treats; I do not often find myself considering cake for breakfast. As soon as my fork hit a slice of this one, restraint crumbled.

Texas Ruby Red Grapefruit Cake with a Hint of Mint

The cake itself has a spongy, almost angel food-like spring to its crumb but a rich flavor since in this case the yolks also go in the batter along with grapefruit juice, lemon zest, vanilla, and, well, lots of sugar.

The mint-flecked glaze was a really interesting idea. Initially I wasn’t a fan of its actual taste–not because of the mint, but because of the powdered sugar (too sweet). Once it soaked in a bit, however, I liked it a lot more, which has left me wondering about what syrups might suit its profile well. I’ll definitely be making another, so there will be opportunities for experimentation.

Bake one up for yourself!

Texas Ruby Red Grapefruit Cake with a Hint of Mint process

Texas Ruby Red Grapefruit Cake with a Hint of Mint unglazed