Author Archives: Tata

East End Boys And West End Girls

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Heirloom tomatoes roasted with olive oil and salt on the left; roasted red tomatoes with olive oil and salt. We jar whole tomatoes from organic farm girls who humor me about my unusual art supplies.

Heirloom tomatoes roasted with olive oil and salt on the left; roasted red tomatoes with olive oil and salt. We jar whole tomatoes from organic farm girls who humor me about my unusual art supplies.

Six years ago, I started thinking about food preservation as a way to test whether my brain would let me learn again after the whole wacky memory loss episode. Congratulations to me! If I really work at it, I can absorb new things. I wanted to try jarring as many different kinds of things as I could to learn as much as I could about what I was doing. The upside of that plan was that invested time, money and effort paid off in some beautiful jars and exciting meals. The downside was that, since I don’t usually cook our dinners, the food in jars ages in the pantry, often beyond what might be safe to eat.

This year, I’m much stronger than I have been since food school started. Today, we went on a 12 mile bike ride on gravel at a good clip two months after Pete’s knee surgery. Afterward, I needed a glass of wine and a nap, but it was completely great and we’re planning more challenging rides. This of course takes time.

This year, I’m thinking about narrowing my focus – STOP LAUGHING! I have focus! – to tomatoes, beets, apples, peaches, raspberries. I would like to find time to get red peppers into jars whole and as red pepper spread, which I love all winter, but if not, I’m going to try not to be heartbreaky about it. I’m finished with beets. We almost can’t get enough tomatoes and tomato sauce into jars, but we’re pushing that rock uphill. I’m excited about moving into fruit soon.

Anyhoo, this is all very promising. We’re on bicycles and out of the kitchen! We’re in the kitchen and on the prowl. I do hear blueberries calling my name…

Whole red beets are both beautiful and slightly spooky.

Whole red beets are both beautiful and slightly spooky.

Watch Her Watch the Morning

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It hasn’t all been sunshine and roses at our house since the adorable kitten arrived. Sweetpea gazes off into the distance, so I am aware that she feels all tragic. I cleaned up protest poop right outside my bedroom door before my first cup of coffee this morning, so I know some of the people who are cats still have FEELINGS about this KITTEN SITUATION. But protest poop was not the development that tied me in knots. No, that was turning a corner and seeing Topaz stretched out on the porch with her fur a frizzy mess.

What's all this, then?

What’s all this, then?

Suddenly, Topaz, recently 6.3 lbs., was strangely thin and motley. I followed her around, holding bowls of food. I tried brushing her with Sweetpea’s brush, but Topaz squawked and stormed off to her room. Finally, desperate, I tried brushing her with one of my hairbrushes and she let me. It seemed to feel pretty good to her, so then I was following her around with the hairbrush and bowls of food. Topaz is still skinny, but her fur now looks mostly black again with a few thin patches. Pete remembered that when Sweetpea came to live with us Topaz looked like someone had plugged her electric rollers into a car battery.

So things are looking up, but I’m going to need more bowls.

Throw All the Songs We Know

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After I bicycled home this afternoon, the house smelled stale to me, so I marched from room to room, opening windows. I was opening the window below when the kitten threw herself at my dainty rump. Fortunately, I was still a little sweaty, so her claws penetrated my jeans and my epidermis. All I could do was stand there, gasping, until Darla got bored with hanging from my hamstrings. Man, I love her.

WHAT is that GODDAMN kitten DOING?

WHAT is that GODDAMN kitten DOING?

Those potato plants look a little piqued to you?

Come To A Decision On It

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I am a champion fretter. I have medals for fretting. I’ve been fretting for weeks about the potato plants as about half of them died back. Half the plants are still green and look like ridiculous weeds, but the plants around the garden’s edge died back and I worried. I waited and I worried. Every day for a few weeks, I looked at them and fretted. Finally, last night, I could stand it no longer and did what modern people do: took a picture, put it up on Facebook and asked for advice. Wendy the Good Witch said to stick my hand in the dirt and pull up something. It was well past dark, so Pete grabbed a flashlight and out we went to find out what was up.

Left to right: last night's potatoes, this afternoon's, shift supervisor Topaz, who reminds you tardiness will not be tolerated.

Left to right: last night’s potatoes, this afternoon’s, shift supervisor Topaz, who reminds you tardiness will not be tolerated.

In a startling turn of events, potatoes actually grew beautifully. Last night in the dark, we dug up the spuds in the colander and did a happy dance in our kitchen. We were also sure there would be more if we checked today, so after work, I ran my hands through the soil again and out came over a pint more of potatoes. I’m thrilled! Not failing to grow potatoes is great! In even better news: we still have half a dozen plants to go.