Roads We Have To Walk Are

In January, I’m scheduled to have surgery, followed by a month of nothing but sleeping, eating and stretching. It’s so exciting! I get to hibernate for once! So I’m all aflutter, stocking pantries and stacking decks, which always has something to do with soup. A vat of borscht the size of most towns’ water towers is simmering on the stove as we speak. For the last two nights, I made pirogies. You know, for when I can’t stand up and can stand soup no more.

Turns out to be easy, even without an Eastern European grandma.

Pirogy dough, courtesy of the Fair Siobhan

Ingredients

* 4 cups all-purpose flour
* 1 teaspoon salt
* 2 teaspoons vegetable oil
* 1/4 teaspoon baking powder
* 1 cup warm water
* 1 egg, beaten

Directions

1. In a large bowl mix together the flour, salt, and baking powder. Make a well in
the center.
2. In a separate bowl mix together the vegetable oil, warm water, and beaten egg.
Pour into the well of the dry ingredients. Knead dough for 8 to 10 minutes.
3. Cover dough and let rest for 2 hours. Roll out and fill as desired.

The hardest thing about this recipe was getting Spellcheck to accept a spelling for pirogy.

Rolling this dough with a rolling pin was as much fun as a three-day toothache, so I put gobs of it through the pasta machine. It’s a hand-cranked affair, so I felt good and rustic. I imagined Cossacks tearing into the village and going, “Let’s sac later. I feel a bit peckish. Ivan! What do you say we break for some lunch?” A coffee cup saucer served as the round template for half-moon pirogies.

For filling, I boiled two russet potatoes and gave them a whirl in the old food mill, added grated cheddar, smoked some-cheese-or-other, some diced, browned beef sausage and very buttery sauteed onions for moisture and a light crunch. Salt, pepper, dried basil. (You can mix just about anything you like with riced potato for filling as long as you dice it fine and taste it. Is it super fantastic? JACKPOT.) Finally, I sealed them with a basting brush and a gentle swoosh of water and popped them all into the freezer. Later, they join the others of their kind in a freezer bag for the duration.

Pirogies are your friends.

When dinnertime comes, boil in salted water for two minutes after they float to the top, then saute in melted butter. Serve with applesauce and sour cream or good, tart yogurt. Easy, cheap, completely awesome.

And Skipping Over the Ocean Like A Stone

Late in my tomato jarring season, one of WellPreserved’s posts caught my eye.

Dehydrated Tomato Skin and Seeds (Leftovers from Sauce Day)

After jarring every batch of tomatoes and sauce, I found myself looking anxiously at the mountains of leftover material. It should be useful for something, I thought, but didn’t know what until the post: tomato powder. The concept was immediately graspable.

We will store them in large chunks (this will preserve their flavor) in a mason jar with a lid on it (not sealed) and make small batches into powder by quickly freezing it and then blitzing it in a blender of spice grinder.

Dehydrating was simple – we spread out the ingredients (roughly) in the dehydrator and placed it on 125 degrees farenheit for 24 hours. They are complete when they are frail and crunchy.

The primary use of our powder will be an additive to sauce. Dry food acts like a sponge and soaks up the most viscous liquid. In essence, this powder will function like a dehydrated tomato paste.

But sauce alone isn’t going to consume this huge amount of skin. Here’s other uses for tomato powder:

Baking (thinks scones and buns not cake)
Dry rubs
Soup
Stir fry
As an ingredient in homemade noodles
An ingredient in BBQ and other savory sauces
In pizza dough (or on the pizza itself)
As an ingredient added to fermentations to increase the savory/ umami profile of a dish

Perfect. I saved up skins and seeds, laid them out carefully in the dehydrator for 24 hours and stored the product in the freezer. Today, I was setting up an oxtail stew and remembered the frozen dehydrated tomato material and ran it through a spice grinder. About a quarter cup of tomato powder lends really nice flavor to broth.

Any last words, Dehydrated Tomato Skins And Seeds?

I only regret that I was born delicious.

Fantastic stuff! Wish I’d known about it years ago, but at least I know now.

That Flash At the Sound Of Lies

Continuing in Poor Impulse Control’s catalog of stuff you shouldn’t throw away so someone can sell it back to you: corn stock.

Buying local corn from the farmers market makes for fantastic summer meals, supports local farmers and the cobs can humidify your house as they turn into corn stock to fortify your soups. What seemed like an indulgence is actually thrifty and super smart. Our house smells fantastic, if I do say so myself and about which I cannot stop yapping.