While shopping at Whole Foods last Friday in search of ingredients for food gifts, I had dismissed the long lines and hoards of customers as part of the holiday season's hustle and bustle.
Later than night, when the first flakes of snow began to fall, which we soon learned would be a 26 hour snow fall-athon, I realized what I had witnessed earlier was snow panic.
Since my own snow panic never struck, when the storm did, we were left with dwindling remains from food purchases the week prior, frozen produce from summer, and staple dry goods.
So in between hunkering down and digging ourselves out, creative cooking also filled time in the days that followed.
Snow Shovel Breakfasts:
Oatmeal, stretched with couscous, combined with dried milk, (to spare our soy milk from taking a hit) dried fruits, nuts, and spices that were on hand. Day 2 breakfast was "eggy mash", a concoction I created for Umami mornings. This mixture of shredded egg, mayo, soy sauce, Sriracha, and sesame oil, is rich, creamy, salty, and protein packed.
Snow Shovel Snacks:
Pretzels w/homemade hummus. Dates and walnuts.
Snow Shovel Dinners:
Tortilla pizza topped with odds and ends. It's an amazing thing how, shmearing tomato paste on a tortilla, and topping it with with canned toms, various veggies, garlic and spices, parm, and Monterey Jack cheese, makes a great thin crust pizza. Our second dinner, multi grain waffles, tapped into quinoa, oat, and buckwheat flour reserves. Topped with agave syrup these were hearty and filling, and enough leftovers remained for 3 more breakfasts.
Tonight it will be wontons with fillings TBD, and a batch of creative granola bars, sans oats.
Tomorrow, off to the grocery I'll go.
May your staples always see you through the storm.
Be Well.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Raising the Bar
Yesterday it was time to make muffins. The snow outside was a calling to my oven to become steamy, and to emanate smells of warm cinnamon and banana.
My no-recipe muffin formula came together quickly- mashed bananas, oil, sugar, vanilla, milk, egg, and cinnamon, combined together with flours, oats, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.
Time to jazz up the bowl a bit.
Shelves were scoured and 2 of my finds were dried cranberries and a half bar of dark chocolate.
This particular bar, a hostess gift from way back in October, had oddly survived late night grazing over the past two months. Even intentional household chocolate purchases don't last this long, and therefore never become the baked good it was intended to be. This bar was a survivor.
Partly because, when nibbling through it over the past 2 months, I noticed that while the bar did offer deep dark flavors, an accompanying fatty smooth backdrop was missing, and no satisfaction ever came.
So choppity chopped it was and tossed together with dried cran. The cran-choc combo is kind of odd, kind of dynamic, and much more rich than either ingredient is on its own.
Time for the final mix and the oven was ready to radiate the smells of Cranana Chocolate Muffins.
As for the taste. . . well, when the warm melty dark chocolate met the muffin, let's just say, this time, I was satisfied.
May chocolate cravings be satisfied in many ways this winter season.
Be Well.
My no-recipe muffin formula came together quickly- mashed bananas, oil, sugar, vanilla, milk, egg, and cinnamon, combined together with flours, oats, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.
Time to jazz up the bowl a bit.
Shelves were scoured and 2 of my finds were dried cranberries and a half bar of dark chocolate.
This particular bar, a hostess gift from way back in October, had oddly survived late night grazing over the past two months. Even intentional household chocolate purchases don't last this long, and therefore never become the baked good it was intended to be. This bar was a survivor.
Partly because, when nibbling through it over the past 2 months, I noticed that while the bar did offer deep dark flavors, an accompanying fatty smooth backdrop was missing, and no satisfaction ever came.
So choppity chopped it was and tossed together with dried cran. The cran-choc combo is kind of odd, kind of dynamic, and much more rich than either ingredient is on its own.
Time for the final mix and the oven was ready to radiate the smells of Cranana Chocolate Muffins.
As for the taste. . . well, when the warm melty dark chocolate met the muffin, let's just say, this time, I was satisfied.
May chocolate cravings be satisfied in many ways this winter season.
Be Well.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
lemons
What happened last night when I opened the fridge and came face to face with empty shelves and bits of this and that. . . I made dinner.
First I reached for the sweet potato, onion, garlic, and frozen corn. Once that was cooked up nicely on the stove top, the question remained. . . what next?
I weighed my options: One tortilla, a pantry full of grains, and 1 batch of leftover pizza dough in the fridge. A peek into the freezer revealed frozen pesto discs from the summer, and the decision was made. . . it would be pizza.
One pesto round coated the veggies nicely, while another round mixed into ricotta. With no mozzarella to be found in my fridge, a half container of leftover ricotta (past its date but not funky yet) would suffice as the cheesy element.
Dough was patted and massaged with oil and garlic, pesto veggies and pesto cheese poured on top, and the oven beeped with anticipation.
425 degrees and 20 minutes later, dinner was ready.
That night, making something out of nothing was quite delicious.
Be Well.
First I reached for the sweet potato, onion, garlic, and frozen corn. Once that was cooked up nicely on the stove top, the question remained. . . what next?
I weighed my options: One tortilla, a pantry full of grains, and 1 batch of leftover pizza dough in the fridge. A peek into the freezer revealed frozen pesto discs from the summer, and the decision was made. . . it would be pizza.
One pesto round coated the veggies nicely, while another round mixed into ricotta. With no mozzarella to be found in my fridge, a half container of leftover ricotta (past its date but not funky yet) would suffice as the cheesy element.
Dough was patted and massaged with oil and garlic, pesto veggies and pesto cheese poured on top, and the oven beeped with anticipation.
425 degrees and 20 minutes later, dinner was ready.
That night, making something out of nothing was quite delicious.
Be Well.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
5 days, 2 breakfasts
Case in point, on day 1 of the conference, I walked into a lunch buffet of deep dish Chicago style pizza, chafing dishes with even more food, some of which were also starchy, and cheesecake. Quite a spread for 12pm on a Wednesday, where the only plan afterward is to sit more, listen a lot, and eat again later!
Having suffered from conference eating syndrome three weeks prior, this time I came prepared to dodge overindulgence by starting the day off on the right foot.
This time, I brought oatmeal.
It was an afterthought really. Minutes before embarking for the airport, quick oats, craisins, raisins, cinnamon, and walnuts were hastily double bagged into a Ziplock and stowed in my tote.
Little did I know what that Ziplock bag would really provide in the days to come.
For four consecutive mornings, the sustenance that came with my hearty, warm, and creamy oatmeal mix, became a stabilizing force for my blood sugars and for my ever changing morning routine. It stuck to my ribs, remedied lingering food hangovers, and harnessed my AWOL prone appetite.
A breakfast thrill seeker I have always been, but on that particular week, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, were all about the familiar.
Then came Sunday. An appreciation brunch for friends who hosted me for the weekend was in order. And so came the crepes.
Crepe making doubt is something many may face. Partly because the crepe has been glorified as gourmet or exotic. But really, the challenge is in its delicacy not in its complexity.
The spinach Havarti mushroom filling satisfied the need for savory, and banana peanut butter chocolate nailed the sweet. The ricotta cinnamon strawberry filling didn't really deliver, but experimentation with fillings are what makes crepes so fun.
May your first meal of the day always be a good one.
Be Well.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Squash in My Cereal
This is the time of year when I have cravings for a taste called WARM.
The tastes, textures, and temperatures of cinnamon oatmeal, ginger pancakes, pumpkin muffins, creamy squash soup, and curried chick peas, all point to WARM.
It's hard to say exactly what warm IS, you just know it when you taste it. So this week, I searched for WARM.
I first found WARM on Wednesday at Whole Foods Market. I opened up my winter squash cooking class with a sample of cinnamon squash oatmeal. When tasting this basic combo of cinnamon, butternut squash, oatmeal, soymilk, and agave syrup, participants lit up as the addition of butternut squash turned up the WARM factor on a basic breakfast staple.
The next day, I found WARM at work. As my colleague and I tinkered with a savory spiced bulgur dish, it was with a quick lift of the lid and a small blast of spicy steam that our verdict became clear: more cinnamon. Combining bulgur with tomatoes and onion made this dish a hearty basic. But with the addition of cinnamon and raisins (raisins were an improvised addition) we had found WARM.
On Friday, along came my head cold. It was WARM I reached for rather than the medicine cabinet.
Into a pot, my husband threw basic staples we had on hand: carrots, onion, chicken stock, corn, potatoes, salt, and pepper. It was clear something was missing, so we added winter squash and toasted baguette slices (staled 7 weeks ago!). With these simple additions, my cold remedy deepened in flavor, thickened in texture, and found its way into WARM. A soothing pot that saw us through the weekend.
May you find WARM and KEEP warm.
Be Well.
The tastes, textures, and temperatures of cinnamon oatmeal, ginger pancakes, pumpkin muffins, creamy squash soup, and curried chick peas, all point to WARM.
It's hard to say exactly what warm IS, you just know it when you taste it. So this week, I searched for WARM.
I first found WARM on Wednesday at Whole Foods Market. I opened up my winter squash cooking class with a sample of cinnamon squash oatmeal. When tasting this basic combo of cinnamon, butternut squash, oatmeal, soymilk, and agave syrup, participants lit up as the addition of butternut squash turned up the WARM factor on a basic breakfast staple.
The next day, I found WARM at work. As my colleague and I tinkered with a savory spiced bulgur dish, it was with a quick lift of the lid and a small blast of spicy steam that our verdict became clear: more cinnamon. Combining bulgur with tomatoes and onion made this dish a hearty basic. But with the addition of cinnamon and raisins (raisins were an improvised addition) we had found WARM.
On Friday, along came my head cold. It was WARM I reached for rather than the medicine cabinet.
Into a pot, my husband threw basic staples we had on hand: carrots, onion, chicken stock, corn, potatoes, salt, and pepper. It was clear something was missing, so we added winter squash and toasted baguette slices (staled 7 weeks ago!). With these simple additions, my cold remedy deepened in flavor, thickened in texture, and found its way into WARM. A soothing pot that saw us through the weekend.
May you find WARM and KEEP warm.
Be Well.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Dough Whisperer
When the time came this week to prepare the second batch of Russian tea biscuits, my confidence was up as I basked in the glow of batch #1 success.
So I doled out a little of this, measured out a little of that, and sifted my way into a dough ball.
But something was amiss. My hands told me the dough offered way too much give and my head told me not to reach for the flour.
If this was a batch of chili, spice it up and we'll call it a day. But when a Crisco and oil pastry dough is deviating from your hopes and expectations, finding a solution can get quite sticky.
With batch #2, it would be with strategy and moderate manual finessing that would turn this ball into a baked good.
Avoiding a full fledged flour intervention, I nudged the tender dough into a rectangle. While holding my breath, fillings were spread and sprinkled, and all was gently rolled up into a log. Amazed at the tenacity of this tender log, I knew it would cave in if taken to the knife.
In this desperate time where no more measuring was to be done, I opted to give the log a little talking to.
"Firm up," I urged the dough.
10 freezing minutes later, the dough emerged from its frosty time out. Having gained some resilience, slices were carefully made and into the oven it went.
Batch #2 was not as attractive and consistent as batch #1, but the Russian tea biscuits tasted great nonetheless.
And by batch #3, I was fluent in dough speak.
Be Well.
So I doled out a little of this, measured out a little of that, and sifted my way into a dough ball.
But something was amiss. My hands told me the dough offered way too much give and my head told me not to reach for the flour.
If this was a batch of chili, spice it up and we'll call it a day. But when a Crisco and oil pastry dough is deviating from your hopes and expectations, finding a solution can get quite sticky.
With batch #2, it would be with strategy and moderate manual finessing that would turn this ball into a baked good.
Avoiding a full fledged flour intervention, I nudged the tender dough into a rectangle. While holding my breath, fillings were spread and sprinkled, and all was gently rolled up into a log. Amazed at the tenacity of this tender log, I knew it would cave in if taken to the knife.
In this desperate time where no more measuring was to be done, I opted to give the log a little talking to.
"Firm up," I urged the dough.
10 freezing minutes later, the dough emerged from its frosty time out. Having gained some resilience, slices were carefully made and into the oven it went.
Batch #2 was not as attractive and consistent as batch #1, but the Russian tea biscuits tasted great nonetheless.
And by batch #3, I was fluent in dough speak.
Be Well.
Monday, September 21, 2009
At the Improv
The normal shopping and cooking routines of the weekend were thrown a tad off course with the arrival of the holidays.
Saturday and Sunday were spent eating good food prepared by others, visiting with family and friends, and dipping apples in honey to usher in a new year.
So when the beginning of the week quickly arrived, I had no homemade bread to creatively incorporate into Wednesday night's dinner, no banana muffins to grab for a quick breakfast, and no Sunday black beans to smash for a Thursday burrito.
Improv cooking would definitely be on the menu this week.
Breakfast at the improv: yogurt, French couscous, walnuts, and agave syrup. Reminiscent of a rice pudding, this dish is where the creamy meets the crunchy and chewy. An improvised breakfast of champions.
Lunch at the improv: a bread salad with chickpeas and grated carrots was tossed in an apple cider yogurt dressing. That foccacia from one week ago was still going strong in fridge storage and made scrumptious croutons. . . TGFF! The one thing I did prep on Sunday, homemade hummus (chickpeas in disguise), was dolloped on top.
Dinner at the improv began at 7:17pm. First I scoured the fridge and pantry, lining up proteins, grains, basic veggies, and savory spices on the counter. The onion, garlic scape pesto, corn, Israeli couscous, eggs, and Monterey Jack cheese made the team on Monday night. For this hodge podge Israeli couscous and egg dish, it would be up to the food, and not myself, to be scrambling to make us dinner.
Kudos to Israeli couscous for providing good starchy satisfaction and structure to an egg based dish. If you are craving an essence of pasta, but don't want the whole bowl of linguine, Israeli couscous is a good way to go.
Using what's on hand, combining ingredients for savory satisfaction, enticing the sense of umami, and including ingredients across the nutrition spectrum, are what my improv act has been about this week.
With time, the tasting of different ingredients over and over again fosters imagination and cultivates the curiosity of "what could be" when ingredients are combined in creative ways.
Sometimes ingredient combos work and sometimes they don't. That's what being at the improv is all about.
Be Well.
Saturday and Sunday were spent eating good food prepared by others, visiting with family and friends, and dipping apples in honey to usher in a new year.
So when the beginning of the week quickly arrived, I had no homemade bread to creatively incorporate into Wednesday night's dinner, no banana muffins to grab for a quick breakfast, and no Sunday black beans to smash for a Thursday burrito.
Improv cooking would definitely be on the menu this week.
Breakfast at the improv: yogurt, French couscous, walnuts, and agave syrup. Reminiscent of a rice pudding, this dish is where the creamy meets the crunchy and chewy. An improvised breakfast of champions.
Lunch at the improv: a bread salad with chickpeas and grated carrots was tossed in an apple cider yogurt dressing. That foccacia from one week ago was still going strong in fridge storage and made scrumptious croutons. . . TGFF! The one thing I did prep on Sunday, homemade hummus (chickpeas in disguise), was dolloped on top.
Dinner at the improv began at 7:17pm. First I scoured the fridge and pantry, lining up proteins, grains, basic veggies, and savory spices on the counter. The onion, garlic scape pesto, corn, Israeli couscous, eggs, and Monterey Jack cheese made the team on Monday night. For this hodge podge Israeli couscous and egg dish, it would be up to the food, and not myself, to be scrambling to make us dinner.
Kudos to Israeli couscous for providing good starchy satisfaction and structure to an egg based dish. If you are craving an essence of pasta, but don't want the whole bowl of linguine, Israeli couscous is a good way to go.
Using what's on hand, combining ingredients for savory satisfaction, enticing the sense of umami, and including ingredients across the nutrition spectrum, are what my improv act has been about this week.
With time, the tasting of different ingredients over and over again fosters imagination and cultivates the curiosity of "what could be" when ingredients are combined in creative ways.
Sometimes ingredient combos work and sometimes they don't. That's what being at the improv is all about.
Be Well.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Day Old Bread
Friday afternoon began with 2 loaves of homemade bread.
After assembling a batch of challah dough and leaving it for an hour in an oiled bowl, I peeked under the moist towel and had one of those "mmmmmm. . . is that going to rise?" moments. Another 30 minutes went by and no sign of puff.
So, as my bread neuroses continued to rise and the dough did not (be advised, watching a bowl of dough does not make it rise), I decided to turn to my old faithful: foccacia. Mix the yeast in water and sugar, wait, add the rest of the liquids, and add in the flour and salt.
After the foccacia backup bread was left in the bowl to rise, things quickly changed course. Maybe the challah was jealous, maybe it was the competition, but whatever the reason, that challah dough began to rise. And rise. And rise. Then the foccacia joined in. This was a dough drag race if I'd ever seen one.
It wasn't too long that I realized 2 large loaves of bread would decorate our table that night.
And decorate they did. The regal, glossy, deep brown, 16-inch braided challah sat side by side with the rounded, golden, salt topped, steamy foccacia. A Jewish Italian bread feast.
And then came the leftovers.
Since family was visiting for the weekend and many more meals were to be made, this was my chance to turn my bread into something else over the course of the weekend (and possibly to save time cooking). Time to make lemonade.
Nothing too creative came of the challah actually. While I could have created stuffed french toast with sweet ricotta or a savory bread pudding. the challah toasted with butter was our simple and heavenly morning mainstay.
Sunday afternoon lunch with the leftover foccacia was a different story. Cut into cubes, toasted with olive oil on the stove top, and tossed with chopped fresh tomatoes, fresh basil, garlic, olive oil, rice vinegar, salt, and pepper, this lunch for 4 was prepped in 20 minutes flat. We were salivating before, during, and after our meal. Had my dry white beans been cooked, they would have been tossed in for the protein.
And Sunday night was the pizza feast. The dough, prepped Saturday evening, in between family conversations and playing Boggle, was formed into 8 discs and par baked for Sunday night pizza with the fam. The pizza was so good, no leftovers remained.
A wonderful weekend and the bread saw us through.
After assembling a batch of challah dough and leaving it for an hour in an oiled bowl, I peeked under the moist towel and had one of those "mmmmmm. . . is that going to rise?" moments. Another 30 minutes went by and no sign of puff.
So, as my bread neuroses continued to rise and the dough did not (be advised, watching a bowl of dough does not make it rise), I decided to turn to my old faithful: foccacia. Mix the yeast in water and sugar, wait, add the rest of the liquids, and add in the flour and salt.
After the foccacia backup bread was left in the bowl to rise, things quickly changed course. Maybe the challah was jealous, maybe it was the competition, but whatever the reason, that challah dough began to rise. And rise. And rise. Then the foccacia joined in. This was a dough drag race if I'd ever seen one.
It wasn't too long that I realized 2 large loaves of bread would decorate our table that night.
And decorate they did. The regal, glossy, deep brown, 16-inch braided challah sat side by side with the rounded, golden, salt topped, steamy foccacia. A Jewish Italian bread feast.
And then came the leftovers.
Since family was visiting for the weekend and many more meals were to be made, this was my chance to turn my bread into something else over the course of the weekend (and possibly to save time cooking). Time to make lemonade.
Nothing too creative came of the challah actually. While I could have created stuffed french toast with sweet ricotta or a savory bread pudding. the challah toasted with butter was our simple and heavenly morning mainstay.
Sunday afternoon lunch with the leftover foccacia was a different story. Cut into cubes, toasted with olive oil on the stove top, and tossed with chopped fresh tomatoes, fresh basil, garlic, olive oil, rice vinegar, salt, and pepper, this lunch for 4 was prepped in 20 minutes flat. We were salivating before, during, and after our meal. Had my dry white beans been cooked, they would have been tossed in for the protein.
And Sunday night was the pizza feast. The dough, prepped Saturday evening, in between family conversations and playing Boggle, was formed into 8 discs and par baked for Sunday night pizza with the fam. The pizza was so good, no leftovers remained.
A wonderful weekend and the bread saw us through.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Know Preservations
The long holiday weekend brought an end to my summer of preservation procrastination.
Early Saturday morning, while standing in a Warrier I Yoga pose, I swear I heard a voice tell me "preserve something already, it's September for goodness sakes!"
Needless to say, the weekend is over, and corn, tomatoes, and basil are all hibernating in their own little places in my kitchen.
At the market, tomato seconds were $1.50 a pound! My husband sliced up those puppies and we stuck them in the dehydrator. Dehydrating was pretty hands off. Except for rotating the dehydrating trays, it was a low maintenance food project.
(I encourage everyone take a BIG bite of a dehydrated tomato and have a camera close by when you do. You'll want to capture the look on your face)
While my hubs was tending to the toms, I was busy at the food processor batching up pesto. Basil, parm, garlic, olive oil, salt, and toasted sunflower seeds. 2 cookie scoops of pesto went into muffin tins for freezing. A nice substantial pesto clump, and enough for 3 months worth if we used one per week! Perfect for pizza, soups, sauces, smashed potatoes, risotto, the list goes on.
And then there was the corn. Blanched, cooled, cut off the cob, and frozen. 3 bags. The naked cobs went back into the liquid from which they were cooked, destined to become the flavor infuser of corn stock. Into the pot they went, and away boiled the water. Boiled down to half it's volume. That's the kind of kitchen work I like. . . walk away and let it do it's thing. The stock is in the fridge right now, gearing up for hibernation tomorrow.
All of these preservation projects in one weekend. It was productive, it was work, and in January, it will be delicious.
Be Well.
Early Saturday morning, while standing in a Warrier I Yoga pose, I swear I heard a voice tell me "preserve something already, it's September for goodness sakes!"
Needless to say, the weekend is over, and corn, tomatoes, and basil are all hibernating in their own little places in my kitchen.
At the market, tomato seconds were $1.50 a pound! My husband sliced up those puppies and we stuck them in the dehydrator. Dehydrating was pretty hands off. Except for rotating the dehydrating trays, it was a low maintenance food project.
(I encourage everyone take a BIG bite of a dehydrated tomato and have a camera close by when you do. You'll want to capture the look on your face)
While my hubs was tending to the toms, I was busy at the food processor batching up pesto. Basil, parm, garlic, olive oil, salt, and toasted sunflower seeds. 2 cookie scoops of pesto went into muffin tins for freezing. A nice substantial pesto clump, and enough for 3 months worth if we used one per week! Perfect for pizza, soups, sauces, smashed potatoes, risotto, the list goes on.
And then there was the corn. Blanched, cooled, cut off the cob, and frozen. 3 bags. The naked cobs went back into the liquid from which they were cooked, destined to become the flavor infuser of corn stock. Into the pot they went, and away boiled the water. Boiled down to half it's volume. That's the kind of kitchen work I like. . . walk away and let it do it's thing. The stock is in the fridge right now, gearing up for hibernation tomorrow.
All of these preservation projects in one weekend. It was productive, it was work, and in January, it will be delicious.
Be Well.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
A Fruitful Day
Welcome to The Red Lentil blogpost and into my kitchen and garden! It is my hope that the food stories I will share from my daily life will bring learning, laughing, and salivating to yours.
Today was the clean out the fridge day- blech. Not the most enjoyable thing to do but by Wednesday I'll be glad it was done. In retrospect, I am convinced the act of cleaning the fridge created good fruit karma for the day. Because right at 2pm the doorbell rang and it was my neighbor with a bag full of yellow tomatoes! I scored some of them and they are now happily sitting, perched in the window sill next two two red ones we'd just plucked from our tomato plant.
Since my fruit karma seemed to be faring well, I pulled out a MAMMOTH zucchini from the fridge, also a gift provided to us. Shred, shred, shred went the food processor.
And last but not least, the third and final fruit gift, a bag of cute green apples from the tree of my brother-in-law and sister-in-law, were cooked down in a pot into a sweet mesh of mush. One tupperware container frozen and one standing by in the CLEAN fridge.
All of these fruit gifts and so many recipe ideas. Apple zucchini muffins, zucchini potato patties, and tomato corn salad, to name a few.
And tomorrow, it's off to the farmer's market. . . in search of more fruit.
Be Well.
Today was the clean out the fridge day- blech. Not the most enjoyable thing to do but by Wednesday I'll be glad it was done. In retrospect, I am convinced the act of cleaning the fridge created good fruit karma for the day. Because right at 2pm the doorbell rang and it was my neighbor with a bag full of yellow tomatoes! I scored some of them and they are now happily sitting, perched in the window sill next two two red ones we'd just plucked from our tomato plant.
Since my fruit karma seemed to be faring well, I pulled out a MAMMOTH zucchini from the fridge, also a gift provided to us. Shred, shred, shred went the food processor.
And last but not least, the third and final fruit gift, a bag of cute green apples from the tree of my brother-in-law and sister-in-law, were cooked down in a pot into a sweet mesh of mush. One tupperware container frozen and one standing by in the CLEAN fridge.
All of these fruit gifts and so many recipe ideas. Apple zucchini muffins, zucchini potato patties, and tomato corn salad, to name a few.
And tomorrow, it's off to the farmer's market. . . in search of more fruit.
Be Well.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)