White peaches. These are less ripe than I would like and difficult to work with. Later, I will Krazy Glue their toothbrushes to the sink and short sheet them. That will show them!
A Street In A Strange World
Category Archives: compote something
Red Red Roses Pinks And Posies
Labeling the jars is my least favorite job, but it’s not like you can ask them to travel incognito.
Yesterday, two little boys’ bodies were pulled out of the river by the Albany Street Bridge. I bicycled through paralyzed traffic as the police cordoned off the northbound pedestrian lane and stared over the edge. No one was directing cars one way or another. A police photographer walked deliberately across Route 27 on the bridge. One of the younger cops saw me at the foot of Raritan Avenue trying to trace a path between police vans and did not yell at me. The grim expression on his face told me everything. Well, almost everything, because there were no ambulances. Helicopters circled above us for hours afterward.
I am having a little trouble shaking this off.
You’re Out Of Touch I’m Out Of Time
Blackberry jam, blackberry barbecue sauce. I know: they looked like Hall & Oates to me, too!
We’re jarring tomato sauce today, fourteen quarts so far. In related news, it’s unbelievably glamorous that my clothes have been stuck to my back since lunchtime.
And If So I’d Like To Know
Blackberry Syrup from the Ball Recipe Book. Minor pain in the ass to make, a cinch to jar, easy on the eye. I think this is the first time I’ve made a fruit syrup, which begs the question: what’s in that jar in the basement fridge labeled SYRUP?
She’s Singing Hey La My Boyfriend’s Back
Last week, I started feeling itchy. Berry season was passing me by. I had only one batch of blueberry jam in jars and not much else, either. Berries also seem to be very expensive this year for no reason I can figure out. I decided to take a couple of days off work and go berry picking. Today, we drove down to Terhune Orchards in Lawrenceville, intent on picking raspberries until our baskets broke. We were ready: sunglasses, straw hats, bad attitudes. But we discovered blueberries are almost finished, blackberries ripen now and raspberries come in the fall. Considering that last year we heard people who grow blackberries keep them for themselves, meaning we’d never get those and here we could pick as many as we could pay for and carry off, I had a hard time seeing this as a bad thing.
This is Cream, who lay on the porch last week. After I took this picture, I misplaced the camera for a couple of days. Meow meow crap meow!
I can barely lift my arms now, but we picked more than sixteen quarts of blackberries. What do I mean by that? We dumped the berries into my sixteen quart stock pot and the berries came level with the top. They’re resting peacefully in the downstairs fridge. Tomorrow, I’ll simmer them with good sugar and lemon juice. Tuesday, it’s blackberry goo into jars. I’m pretty psyched about our improbable good fortune, but for the moment, I’m overjoyed to have my feet up and an adult beverage.
Word Was Heard From the People
A few years ago, I planted some sage bushes in Pete’s backyard, probably right after I moved here. A gardener can expect three productive years from a single bush, so last spring, I planted new ones. I’m up to my neck in fresh sage, so you know what that means: compound butters.
It’s easy. Take butter out of the fridge to soften. Put the soft butter into the bowl of your mixer. Chop up some herbs into tinytinytiny pieces. Add the herbs to the soft butter. Make your mixer go WHOOOOOSH. Taste the butter. If it needs lemon juice or sherry or more herbs or whatever suits your fancy, add that. Scoop into a bowl and refrigerate. Later, spoon a dollop on a baked potato, sauteed vegetables, broiled meat or fish. You can store your compound butter in the fridge if you’re going to eat it soon or in the freezer if you’re going to need some herby, butter summerosity in January, and who does not?
In You Yet I Know You’ve Got
It took six years for me to work up the nerve to try MB’s Gingerbread recipe.
When you see into the loaf, the loaf sees into you.
You should totally not wait to try making it yourself.
Ho Ho Ho It’s Magic
Rhubarb in jars, Tata in a heap on the couch.
The House Of the Future Together
Jarring season begins.
Money can’t buy happiness, but it can buy sixteen pounds of rhubarb.
However Do You Need Me
I’m a Pushy Zelda about adding fruit to every meal. Ordinary oatmeal becomes elegant with the addition of spiced apple. Your grilled cheese is junk food until you add sliced peach, avocado or tomato. Pork chops or chicken will thank you for cranberry compote or mango chutney. Eat some fruit!
“All right, Zel, geez! I’ve got fruit on every surface in my kitchen, but what do I do about the fruit that’s getting away from me?” Ah! You need a sturdy fruit bread recipe you can stuff with starting-to-turn stuff. The Joy of Cooking’s banana bread recipe is a good place to start, but exchange whole wheat for the white flour and add spices like cinnamon, ginger, cardamom and basil. If you do not have the Joy of, you have the good fortune to be sitting at the world’s largest encyclopedia of recipes and a great many savants offer their say-so most sagacious. In other words: look it up. You will find something you like.
Strawberry bread gives you the eye.
An hour and a half ago, fruit was your frenemy. Now fruit bread is your friend.
Poor Impulse Control 