Hydro Future...is now!

Recently, I saw the embodiment of something I’d been imagining…there it was, and in Martha Stewart’s kitchen: an indoor wall of hydroponically growing herbs, peppers, and tomatoes – rows and rows of them, hanging vertically. There was a woman explaining it as a “Windowfarm”. I’ve had so many reasons in my head for why I believe that people will at some point be predominantly growing their veggies, fruits, and herbs indoors but this was the first time I’d seen it actualized.

Indulge my little rampage for a minute (I call it that in order to reduce the number of voicemail messages asking if I’m depressed) because if offers something to think about even if I do wholeheartedly believe it to be true as well: Human greed makes it about growing (altering) a fruit or veggie so that it can be packed in crates, travel great distances in a truck, resist all insects, and grow bigger or faster. Decreased flavor, decreased nutritional value, or even possibly harm to the human body, have never been priority for concern over making a profit. I’ll slip in a quick reference to the genetically altered salmon “they” just succeeded in creating – fish that can be grown bigger and faster (bred for sale) but we’re not sure what else about them will be changed. Some fun thought-provoking questions might be: Does any supermarket tomato taste like one at a farm stand? Does any supermarket vegetable taste like the ones your grandfather used to grow? Does any fruit taste like it did many years ago? Why do we need to take so many supplements these days in order to get the vitamins we need and used to get from our food? Does a “Hot Pockets” culture have anything to do with the rise in all cancers and in younger age groups? Do people realize how processed and handled everything is at a supermarket, even the produce section, even the stuff marked “organic”, even at those pricier markets? When you buy something that has all the processed ingredients, you have to ask yourself, are you eating it?, or is it eating you? Because if you’re stressing out your liver to digest it and it has no real nutrients to begin with then it may be that it is eating you. Every time another step is added (processing) in between “taking something from the ground and putting it on the table” more harm is done.

I’ve envisioned my own little Hydro Farm (w/ farm stand in summertime)…the bubbling sounds of water feeding Italian parsley, basil, oregano, garlic, onions, chili’s, lettuce, tomatoes, zucchini, cucumbers, and horseradish. And there would be room to can my Worcestershire sauce, zucchini pickles, tomato sauce, bbq sauces, salsas, and marinades. And everything filled with nutrients like they’re supposed to be.

Hydroponics offers a more controllable option especially for someone with a small kitchen – a way to deliver nutrients and oxygen to a root system to create homegrown veggies, fruits, and herbs that contain flavor and nutritional value. And when it comes to faster growing there’s no competition with soil. Healthy and convenient, it’s a great way to supplement. And seeing the “Windowfarm” makes it something real and doable.

It won’t replace farmer’s markets because that experience is irreplaceable and people love to visit farmer’s markets – they would want to continue to support doing that. But the feel and flavor of homegrown in your own home all year ‘round? Yes! I feel as though I can now talk about hydroponics without people thinking of lava lamps and tie-dyes, or some system in an alternative community.

I’m sitting here looking at the label of my favorite lettuce - Boston Premium lettuce – noticing what once was “organic” is now hydroponically grown in Montreal. But I want hydroponically grown in Plymouth, MA – I’d like to see (and work at) a Hydro Farm here in the south shore!

Can It, part 2

As previously mentioned (see “Can It”, from Wednesday, June 16, 2010) I'm canning zucchini pickles this fall, with onions, garlic, vinegar, sugar, turmeric, mustard seed, and celery seed – they’re fast becoming the popular choice over the pickled cucumbers. And this is a good thing due to the unfortunate lack of quality pickling cukes. Bring on the pickled zuke!

Fried plantains: this was just a whim but they worked out nicely. Fried with quality olive oil, a little butter, minced onion and garlic, and a little salt ‘n’ pepper.

To Dye For

Silk…the magical answer! There are many varieties of silk but 16 mm (“mummy” weight) silk crepe de chine is my favorite to use for creating with dyes. The higher the mummy (momme) weight, the heavier the weight of the silk; the 16 mm silk crepe de chine has the perfect level of weight and drape for my dyeing endeavors. Silk crepe de chine can be cool or warm – it changes with the weather. It is lightweight, easy to clean, absorptive, and durable. Though soppy and heavy when wet, silk hangs dry in minutes…a little finger-flattening of seams, and a quick ironing to transform it into the amazing stuff that it is. Silk crepe de chine responds best to ironing; the end result must be ironed to produce the soft, drape effect.

I love painting yards of silk without having to sew them into scarves or curtains – I’d like to be paid to do just that. Make no mistake - silk can be a pain in the ass to work with; not everyone wants to sew silk and some avoid it altogether. For making curtains, silk crepe de chine is a little top-shelf but the fabric has a beautiful drape, creates a stained glass effect as the light floats thru each layer, and these curtains drift beautifully in a breeze. Silk crepe de chine resists fading longer than cotton, is stronger than cotton, need less washing/ironing than cotton…it is worth the price. Would a person pay $40 per two-panel window curtain made from hand-dyed silk crepe de chine?

Dye with patience - If you’re feeling moody or in a hurry, avoid dyeing. Like with cooking and creative sewing, dyeing will pick up on your mood and your level of angst – don’t compound your problems. Dyes, salt, and soda ash all must be dissolved carefully and at the right temperature or else you’ll waste a lot of time and money. All ingredients must be kept swirling together to avoid caking. It pays to be ambidextrous and able to stir with one hand while measuring powders with another.

Dye clean and with ventilation – high-quality powdered dyes and fixers are toxic fine particulate matter and not for inhalation. There should be no food or dish drainers nearby. “Never eat and play at the same time!” Sponges and towels used when dyeing with soda ash are forever donated to this art ‘n’ craft.

Silk scarves...

Painters’ caps and visors – these are lightweight summery items that are affordable, too! Vat dyed, then hand-stamped and painted.

July in Manomet

Summer days of July in Manomet are particularly hot this year. It’s rare that temps are in the high-80’s and early-90’s for two solid weeks. Primal feelings take over and one needs to be near a body of water during the day, and for as long as possible. I think to myself sometimes that Manomet is a gift from nature, a treasure beyond words. Sea life, bird life, and lots of green; waterfronts, lobster traps, and fishing; flip-flops, tank tops, and ice cream cones; beach roses, and blue-green water so clear that you can see the striped bass swimming offshore.

Lazy days spent at the beach are indulgent and wonderful things even if you’re the type to simultaneously wrestle with the guilt of lounging. There is a sleepiness and restfulness to this area. It even permeates my house…guests emerge from their slumbers with that surprised-to-be-so-well-rested look. Hot summer days of vacation are for rolling out of bed and into whatever beach attire you’ve developed. The shoreline differs from year to year, the last storms of spring tossing up more sand, or, as is the case this year, removing a few feet of it. A beach towel isn’t complete until after a day spent in sand and being trampled by sea water and sunblock. There is a smell to a beach towel that has been at it all day - a smell I remember from childhood…warm cotton mixed with salty sea breeze.

The Lobster Pound: I have to agree with my 14-year-old niece when she looks at me squeamishly and asks, “Are there live creatures in tanks inside there?, and do I have to look at them?” And no, you don’t actually have to look at them – I know that I try to avoid it! What I do look at is the wet floor from melting ice, the fresh seafood, the crabcakes, fishcakes, and chowder. For whatever reason, I need to munch on a fishcake (made from salt cod) from the Lobster Pound – I don’t even heat it up – I eat it on the Point while looking out at the seagull on the big rock. I never crave salt cod but something possesses me when I’m standing there inhaling the Lobster Pound essence. Liz at the Lobster Pound (“Lobster Liz”) is worth the trip. A vivacious mother of five, with smiley eyes and a friendly in-your-face approach, I can talk to Liz for nearly an hour. I come here for the good feelings and for the inspiring overlook. It is a view that prompts opposite thoughts in me: “What am I doing with my life?”, followed by, “Wow, those are gorgeous beach roses!”

Fourth of July, Manomet-style

There is nothing quite like the magnitude and excitement of a Fourth of July in Manomet. Celebrated on the night of the 3rd of July, the beaches are full of bonfires and fireworks, allowing for downtown Plymouth to run a fireworks show without conflict on the holiday’s traditional night of the 4th of July.

In Manomet, the change in sound and feeling begins in mid-June, around Father’s Day. It’s entirely possible that the popular Father’s Day gift in this area is a daytrip to New Hampshire for a trunk load of fireworks. And you hear these things shot off in the streets for two solid weeks, night after night, until the night of July 3rd when the rest are fired off down at the beach…beginning right at dusk. Each year, I wonder if they’ll run out of these things that’ve been shooting off into the trees for weeks, and each year, there seem to be even more… And while it’s disturbing to think of a wayward professional-quality firework zooming into my house there is also a very strong emotional memory connected to shooting fireworks off in the streets. It’s a “tension of opposites” that I embrace each year. Or maybe I just brace for, each year. It really doesn’t matter…it simply is…

…It’s a happy time of year, The 4th of July, with the words of James Taylor in my head:
“With a tear in your eye for the Fourth of July,
For the patriot’s and the Minutemen,
And the things you believe they believed in then,
Such as freedom, and freedom’s land, the Kingdom of God and the rights of man.”

My excitement in planning begins in mid-June, too. Scattered thoughts of things to grill, wondering who’ll join in this year’s festivities, hopefully “the regulars” will be visiting along with friends who’re visiting for the first time…unsuspecting of my plan to turn them on to Manomet, making them fall hopelessly in love with the area to where they feel the need to move here? Too much? Will there be small children at the house this year?, where I can bring up the beach toys from the basement, and ensure there are enough s’mores to jolt them into another dimension?

Friday night’s dinner: I’m thinking grilled salmoncakes…and my good friend, Debbie, will bring her pasta/feta salad. Two sauces for the salmoncakes: a homemade horseradish-y cocktail sauce, and a sauce of mayo, horseradish, fresh lemon, and capers. A side-dish of grilled asparagus tossed with a little fresh garlic, lemon, and peeled chopped apple to give it a sweet summery seal of approval.

Saturday, our big dinner on the night of July 3rd: served on disposable plates so that minimal time goes toward clean-up – the object of this night is to head back down to the beach after dinner for the sunset excitement, the bonfires at their highest, the beach hasn’t yet become dark with the glow of firelight, and you can still pick out which kid is yours! This year, Saturday night’s dinner: marinated grilled London Broil sliced thin and served with grilled carrot strips/onions/garlic, grilled pineapple, marinated grilled scallops, warm tortillas, chimichurri sauce, avocado/cilantro/lime, and Big Al’s homemade potato salad like Mom used to make.

Few things on earth are as valuable to me as good friends, loving company, making people happy thru laughter and food, stories and music, and wine. I look forward to the next few days as my most major holiday of the year…it is my Passover, or my Christmas…in fact, it is my favorite kind of Fourth of July.

Can It

Zucchini pickles - I look forward to canning my way thru Dorothy’s recipe box of pickled everything. Recently, the pickling cucumbers are not what they used to be - not what they appear to be – they are salad cucumbers posing as pickling cucumbers. Small enough to appear as a pickling cucumber but then seedier and squishier on the inside – and that kind of thing just doesn’t hold up to hours of icy salted water.

Zucchini provide a great pickle alternative! They’re a real team player…working well with others and anticipating the needs of the common goal. The original recipe calls for zucchini, onion, turmeric, sugar, mustard seeds, celery seed, etc. I went for celery flakes, instead, and less sugar. Then I decided to also offer a spicy version of these zucchini pickles, which include slices of fresh jalapeño and garlic.

Bread ‘n’ Butter pickles – these pickles are my…well…bread and butter. Adored from coast to coast, these are not ordinary bread ‘n’ butter pickles. With thin slices of onion and garlic, sweet but not overly so, all floating in flavorful brine that is unlike the heavy-goopy bread ‘n’ butter pickle standard. People have said they’ve shamelessly powered thru an entire jar while sitting (and some standing) at the kitchen counter.

Worcestershire Sauce – once you’ve had homemade Worcestershire sauce you can never go back to the jarred varieties, except maybe when you’re out of the homemade stuff. In which case, use something else! This sauce is a labor of love. I get as excited to make it for people as they get about eating it. Like making maple syrup, so much more goes into this process than the end result that I could charge $10 per pint jar, but I’d never dream doing that. Doubling the recipe is the only way to go when embarking on this project and so that entails boiling it for 12 hours or so. Beginning in the early evening, cooking thru the night, up every hour or so for a stir, which is not difficult to do since the extreme smell of this on the stove will certainly knock a person out of bed. With 12 cups of chopped onion, 8 jalapeños, cans of anchovies, vinegar, over a pound of fresh chopped horseradish, and other powerful ingredients all cooking for a day…your sinuses will thank you and your house will smell of bbq sauce for a week. Steen’s Pure Cane Syrup from Louisiana is the real key - no substitute will do! The caldron has to cool down for hours before you can even touch the outside of the stockpot…the intensity exploding as it cools. More to come...

Regular zucchini pickles without turmeric and using celery seed instead of flakes...



Maine

Half-way across the Piscataqua river bridge you’ll see the sign for the state line of Maine, including this word: Vacationland. Maine: it’s the only state in the nation that shares a border with only one other state. Maine: a place where people walk and hike all the time; where 65 degrees is summertime; where you feel the need to eat lobster even if you don’t normally do so. The shimmery colorful Cape light streaks up along the coast and gets filtered thru Maine’s towering forests like no other state in New England. A CD of the Paula Poundstone concert, “I *heart* Jokes”, is playing in the car – she hilariously captures the essence of Maine and its people. She says, “Maine… you’re sort of a world unto yourself, you know? You could secede at any moment. Frankly, the rest of the country wouldn’t know. You’re...up here...you could practically leap into Canada."

Anyone fortunate enough to have traveled all over Maine can adequately comment on its incredible terrain and beauty. I hope to someday take a breathtaking-scenery-extravaganza road-trip all over Maine. This recent trip was to Wells, which is merely in the big toe of Maine’s massive body. A pretty big toe, too!

It was an artist’s weekend…

...and I agreed to grill for the artists a few days. I think I will include this skill on a business card.

 

Provincetown

Some people say you can feel an increase in sense of freedom as you pass by the last signs for Truro. The small signs for “turtle crossing” always tell me I’m getting closer. And then the sand dunes – the kind that make everyone smile – big sandy hills with plenty of sea grass. The magic begins... And I hope it will always be that way…there at the end of the Cape.

Provincetown...how I love it so!...the smell of the ocean, fried dough, and steaming lobsters. The spectacular lighting – yellow, pink, and blue – depending on the time of day…it can take ones breath away. People walking, riding bikes, smiling, laughing, shopping, eating. Provincetown…socially and culturally, it’s as the world should be: open. The Portuguese bakery sells their special breads, sweet and shiny and delicious. The fudge shop is shifting into summer gear. The natives of Provincetown brace for in-season activity, beginning around Memorial Day and continuing thru Labor Day.

Shop Therapy still thrives in its psychedelic building, its reputation preceding itself, for some. Proof of this would be the high school students on a tour who’re daring each other to go inside the store after being commanded not to. “The bad kid” tearing up the stairs to the 2nd floor, past the “over 21 only”, to get a glimpse of the collection of sex toys hanging from the ceiling along with a plethora of other exhibits of freedom. I laugh to myself and walk past them, feeling the best I’ve ever felt in my life to be 45 years old. Everything swims in a wild sea of hand-dyed t-shirts, peace sign accessories, beads, silver, and leather.

This classic shot of The Lobster Pot has been captured in many paintings and photos. A great place with a copper-plated bar upstairs and back porch views of the harbor to be seen from both floors. Fantabulous fish fry’s, classic Portuguese kale soup, and a salty margarita, will set you right.

Easter Tradition

When I was young, Easter was about having to go to church to attend the Dreaded Longest Catholic Mass of the Year, sitting in the pew wearing a stiff, scratchy outfit with shoes to match the discomfort, and anticipating the search for The Golden Egg. The Golden Egg was my mother’s idea: stuff one gold-painted plastic egg with fifty cents (inflation took this up to $20 over the course of 15 years) and hide it in the house so as to keep four children busily searching for some time. Easter was a crazy sunny holiday that to me meant spring, corsages in the fridge, gardenias, my sister, and a real coconut crème egg that was first refrigerated and then sliced thin. It meant tulips in various colors and all sorts of bunnies: stuffed, chocolate, or real. I think any day can be improved with a bunny. Easter baskets were creative and included as many cute little stuffed chicks and bunnies as they did sweets. Easter dinner smells would permeate our house in daylight hours…the ham covered with brown sugar drenched pineapple rings and whole cloves.

Italian Ricotta Rice Pie

Nowadays, Easter is a reason for me to make the Italian Ricotta Rice Pie. The first word that comes to mind when I hear the phrase, “Italian Ricotta Rice Pie”, is “Grandma”! This pie was a regular at Easter time and is best when made the day before and chilled, then served in slices. Featuring the flavors of sweetened ricotta, orange and lemon zest, and a special pastry toughened by egg yolks, this pie is a light and pleasant perfection of spring. Over the years, I’ve seen this pie ruined by bakeries that like to add cream cheese or drizzles of chocolate…the shame…

Eggs beaten in, one at a time,
at some point makes this pie
filling look like a creme egg at Easter.

Corned beef, potato, and cheese dish

I love corned beef and this year I braved slow-cooking a brisket and onions in a homemade light barbecue sauce that included garlic, mustards, and spices. The idea was to eventually mix the shredded corned beef, onions, and a little sauce, together with mashed potatoes, cheese, and egg, in a buttered bread crumbed casserole. Jarlsberg and sharp cheddar worked well together with the potatoes and this dish made a warm addition to Easter dinner.

Ocean-y treats for summer

Littlenecks in the summertime here in Manomet: guests are in charge of their own littlenecks if they choose to grill or steam them. The only time I like to eat these things is when they’re swimming in herb butter white wine sauce and served with good bread, pasta, and Pinot Grigio.

Necessary ingredients for my own personal littlenecks binge: chopped garlic, scallion, parsley, and basil; butter, olive oil, white wine, tomatoes (optional), lemon, etc.

...floating in anticipation...

...say, "ahh"...

Salmon cakes, or Scallop ‘n’ Potato cakes, or…

I used to work at a wholesale seafood supply place where free crabmeat was part of the benefit of working for such a crazy industry. I would make crab cakes with wild abandon. But scallop ‘n’ potato cakes, or salmon cakes…they’re just as tasty and the binding ingredients and spices don’t vary much. Served with a sauce and lemon, they’re summery and filling.