Two things

One:  I have found a blog (new to me, but around for a while) full of delicious baked goods.  It has gorgeous photography and delicious recipes.  Here, go peek at <a href=”http://www.peterandrewryan.com/baking/”>Pete Bakes!</a>

Two:  I love that my stats always shoot up on Sundays.  It seems to mainly be because I’ve blogged about Spoon Roast, one of those unusual names for a cut of meat you can’t find everywhere, and thus not frequently written about.  Every Sunday, a bunch of folks come here looking for help with their roasts.  To them I say, “Hi there!  Good luck!” and once they’ve made their roast, I hope they come back so I can ask, “Isn’t it delicious?  It makes a great topping, thinly sliced, on pizza!”  I like being a part of that warm fuzzy Sunday dinner prep.  I think most people, if they make 1 serious meal a week, make it on Sunday, and I like that I get to share in that process with perfect strangers.

Happy Sunday!  I’m only making tacos tonight, I think, but I’ll be back with recipes next week.  On tap?  Apple bread, using some of the bounty we picked last weekend.

A lone survivor!

Look, a survivor!  One tomato survived the blight.  I picked it when it was green and ripened it on the windowsill.  I can’t remember what variety it was–an heirloom, maybe called Tuscan Plum?  Something like that.  It sure was tasty.  Better luck next year.

And you know what they say about good intentions

Oh, people.  See this applesauce?  A recipe I have made (and canned successfully) a half-dozen times?  Today it was a total mess.  I nearly threw in the towel multiple times.  I should probably not tell you this story at all.  But today was the day of good intentions, and the ridiculous, insane sequence of events that followed.

We should probably start with yesterday, a perfect fall day, when Mr. Pea and I set out to go apple-picking.  This is not Mr. Pea’s favorite activity, but since we no longer live near my traditional apple-picking buddy, he takes me, so that he gets 1) a happy wife and 2) a pie.  Fair enough.  But our google directions to the orchard were, uh, flawed, so we got lost in the Connecticut countryside.  Not so awesome.

We finally got to the orchard, and the line to pay for apples was, I’m not kidding, nearly the length of a football field.  But we put on our happy smiles, enjoyed the lovely weather, and it was fine.

Today I decided to make applesauce.  I figured this would take about an hour.  I forgot I’d used some of my pint jars for pickles, which are still in the fridge.  So I went to Whole Foods to get more.  They only had quarts, but whatever, I thought–I’d meant to get some this summer, anyway.

Ha.

So I got home and set to work–washing, peeling, cooking, sterilizing.  That’s when I realized that my jars *just* fit in my hot water canner.  They were so close to the top I had doubts about being able to cover them with water for processing.  I should have heeded those doubts.

And that’s when I knocked one of my last remaining cherry juice glasses off the counter with my elbow so that it shattered all over the floor.  Mr. Pea and I picked it up, and I went back to work.  But if you’ve read this a while, you know how sad it makes me when I break them.

After what seemed like forever for my apples to cook down adequately (there were 20 of them, which probably had something to do with it), I fished my jars out of the sterilizing bath, filled them (which made a hell of a mess), and placed them back in the water.  I had to heat up more water in a kettle to cover them.  I heated the water to a boil…..and water began to splash out, all over the stove, over the stove, onto the floor, splash, splash, hot hot.  I had a mild freakout.

I dug out an old stock pot that I thought was tall enough for the jars–and it was, by probably 1/2″ more than the canner.  I carefully pulled the jars out of the boiling water, placed them in the stock pot.  Then I began to pour the just-under-boiling water in. And it splashed.  On the island.  On the floor.  On me.  Ow.

I set it to boil, and after some time, got it to a steady boil without boiling over.  Joy.  I started making lunch.

After 20 minutes of processing, I pulled the jars out and set them up on a towel.  Then the applesauce began to splooge out of the jars and down their sides.  What the hell????  I’ve never had this happen before.  I thought I’d left plenty of headspace for expansion but evidently not.  So now I have jars that are processed, but a mess.  You can see it in the photo above.  The lids all set, by some miracle, but I’m only hoping that the sauce trapped on the edge of them, between them and the rim of the jar, doesn’t get nasty.  I will have to wash these suckers down before storage, though, that’s for sure.

The process was so inordinately stressful and took far longer than it should have, so I’ve decided to camp out on the couch watching football and reading and to order out for dinner, instead of attempting the butternut squash enchiladas I was planning.  Tomorrow’s another day.

Oh, and if anyone in New England wants to swap 10 pint jars with lids for 10 quart jars with lids, let’s set up a meeting.

Pot Roast

I have no photo for you, as it wasn’t especially pretty to look at, but I highly recommend you make this roast. Soon. Because it’s delicious, and makes your house smell fabulous. I started ours in the crock pot this morning and came home to the most wonderful aroma. You’ll need:

1 roast. Ours was 2 pounds, but you could do up to 4.
1 big onion, sliced, or two small ones.
1 clove of garlic, chopped
1/4 c soy sauce
1/4 c worcestershire.

Place roast in crock pot. Add onions and garlic. Pour sauces over. Add 3-4 cups of water, so that the roast is nearly covered (much more water and you’ll have to up your sauces). Turn on crock pot to low and let cook about 8 hours. Voila. Dinner. All I had to do was make some potatoes and get out the box o’ salad from the fridge.

The Coin Quilt: Top Completed

This week I finished the quilt top for the Coin Quilt I started a while ago.  I really like it.  It makes me want to snuggle in for the winter.  I think I might end up using it as the bed covering, rather than folded at the bottom, as I like the punch of color in the room so much.  You can see the rainbow pattern I created in the rows in this photo; I’m using a chocolate-brown linen blend for the sashing.  The rows aren’t nearly as even as I’d planned, as I evidently forgot what I was using for a seam allowance on multiple occasions.  But that’s ok–I didn’t expect to make a perfect quilt.  The bottom was horribly uneven so I trimmed it as best I could and am hoping for the best when it comes to actually assembling it.  I am terrified of assembling it.  The last one did not go well.  I think I might recruit my mom for the job–she also has a machine with a quilting foot, which will surely make it all easier.

Spiced Pancakes

I made these pancakes last week and planned on telling you about them right away, but this semester has really started off with a bang.  I have two sections of the introductory survey to teach, as I have every semester, plus an upper-level seminar, a first-year seminar, and an independent study.  Plus service activities, my own research, blah blah blah.  So I’m a week late.  But I swear, I’m going to really try and post at least twice a week, especially now that we’re in my favorite cool-temp, pie and cookie baking, coffee and tea drinking season.  I love fall.  I love how it flips an internal switch for me so that I no longer want to grill everything, or have corn on the cob at every meal.  My meal list for this week (I just got back from the grocery store) contains mostly comfort foods.  I might make some gingersnaps later.  Joy!

Spiced pancakes fit right into my ideal fall menu.  They’re lovely, not terribly heavy, and perfect with a drizzle of maple syrup.  Or, if you’re Mr. Pea, not-maple syrup.  He insists on staying on the dark side in terms of his pancake toppings.

You’ll need:

2 c flour (I used half whole-wheat pastry flour which I got out of the bulk bin)
3 T brown sugar
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp allspice
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground ginger
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/2 c milk
1 egg
2 T canola oil

I begin by beating my egg into my milk, which I measure in a big glass measuring cup. I hate dirtying extra dishes. I then beat in the oil. I add all the dry stuff to a bowl and whisk; I add the wet to the dry and stir just enough so that most everything is moistened. You don’t want to overbeat, or you’ll get tough pancakes. I heat my griddle pan over medium to medium-high heat, and pour out about 1/4 cup portions. I let them cook a few minutes per side and flip when they’re brown (this is going to vary depending on your heat and your pan). Serve with syrup, preferably one that at least pretends to be maple.

The New Year and September Resolutions

Pardon my silence, dear readers. I went back to school last week–back to classes, students, advisees, committees, meetings, oh my! And my brain was so full, I didn’t bother to cook much that was new or which required more than boiling a pot of water. I love going back to school, but it’s always a little shock to the summer-sleepy system. I like the feeling of a new year, and September to me, as the temperatures drop and the days shorten, as the leaves turn red and fall to the ground, is more of a new year season than January ever does. Plus, my birthday takes place in that first week of September, so it’s a new year all around.

This year, I turned 31. A friend had told me 31 seemed weirder and was harder than 30 but frankly, I didn’t notice a difference. My birthday came midway through what was an unusually good week, though, and it got me thinking–maybe I should make new year’s resolutions every September, rather than in January, when I never bother, anyway. So here are my resolutions:
1. I will try to live more in the current moment, rather than putting too much pressure on the future (to be either great or bleak, depending on my mood) or the past.
2. I will try to be more trusting, particularly of the universe at large.
3. I will try every day to remember things I am grateful for.
4. I will try to be more patient.

There, those are some decent resolutions, I think. Happy new year!