Tuesday, 8 October 2013

Bell Peppers Stuffed with Toulouse Sausage/Brown Rice/Parmesan...and brown rice stir fry

Recipes for this old standby are countless. What I like about this one is not only are the stuffed peppers good because of the nutty flavour of brown rice and the succulent spiciness of Toulouse or Italian sweet sausages, they look good also--plump and amply filled.  To accomplish that feat, it is necessary to parboil the peppers and cook the sausage ensuring that when you stuff them, those satisfyingly full peppers will remain that way after baking. Though I use brown rice in general, I do choose white rice for puddings and risottos. A nutritious and doable compromise is to eat fifty percent whole grains and fifty percent refined ones.


When cooking rice, I try to make more than needed for the recipe in hand, freezing the extra as ice cubes or portions with which I can eventually bulk up a cup of chicken broth--made from, yup, you guess it, a couple of concentrated broth ice cubes--or use in a stir fry.


For four stuffed peppers, you will need, of course, four peppers (medium large or their equivalent, I used 2 small, 2 medium, and a very large one from the potager), 16 fluid ounces/474 ml of cooked brown rice (about 4 fluid ounces/118 ml raw), 16 fluid ounces/474 ml of cooked Italian or Toulouse sausage (four raw sausages), 3 tablespoons of tomato paste, one or two large eggs, four fluid ounces/118 ml of grated Parmesan, 1 tablespoon of butter, and six fluid ounces/178 ml of fresh bread crumbs.

Preheat oven 350 degrees F/177 degrees C. Bring a large pot of water to the boil. While waiting for the water to come to a boil, prepare the peppers. Wash and core them.


Plop them into the hot water and using wooden spoons to keep them from bobbing about, parboil for two to three minutes depending on their size. You want them not to be raw, just slightly tender and still crisp.


Remove with a slotted spoon or tongs and run them under cold running water to stop their cooking. Drain them, cut side down, on paper towels.


Slit the sausages casings with a sharp knife and peel them off. Put a tiny bit of olive oil in a skillet and saute the sausage meat, breaking it up with a wooden spoon.


Drain the grease, deposing of it by putting it in a jar. Blot the meat well with paper towels and put it in a large mixing bowl.  Another advantage of using precooked meat is that the finished dish is way less greasier. When cool, crumble up the meat into tiny pieces with your fingers. Put several chunks of French bread into a mini-mixer to make fresh break crumbs. Dried breadcrumbs certainly have their uses, but buttered fresh crumbs often raise a dish to the next level. Grate cheese.


Mix half of the cheese with the crumbs. Melt the butter in a small pot and remove from heat. Stir in the crumb/cheese mixture till well coated.


Mix the remaining cheese with the sausage, brown rice, tomato paste. Add salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste.


Beat the egg--using two if you prefer a denser, firmer texture--and add, stirring the mixture well.


Stuff the peppers fully, packing each spoonful down before adding the next. (If there is left over stuffing, you can put it in a buttered, lidded casserole and place strips of lightly oiled green peppers and crumbs on top. Bake along with the whole stuffed peppers.)


Sprinkle with crumbs.


Bake for about thirty minutes. Test for tenderness by piercing the peppers with a tip of a sharp knife. If the peppers were all in the same state of being parboiled, most likely you will find that different sized peppers will all finish at the same time. If not, larger ones may need longer baking.


They are substantial, satisfying, and glorious. Though they could be halved vertically before cooking, making them easier to fill and take less time to bake, I prefer the scrumptious self basting which occurs with whole peppers.


The next day, there was fried rice made with the surplus brown rice. For each meal sized serving you will need 4 fluid ounces/118 ml of frozen or fresh peas, 16 fluid ounces/474 ml of cooked brown rice,  4 teaspoons of vegetable oil other than olive oil (I used safflower), a large egg, a teaspoon of minced ginger, a teaspoon of minced garlic, and a few red pepper flakes. Heat three teaspoons of the oil until hot. Saute briefly the ginger, a few red pepper flakes, and garlic. Toss in the frozen or fresh peas and fry for a minute or two. Move the veggies aside in the pan, oiling the bare spot with a teaspoon of oil, then pour in the beaten egg, stirring it vigorously until small, yellow bits form. Add the rice and over high heat, stir for a few minutes, salting to taste until everything is hot, mixed together, and ready to scoff down.


Late summer harvest is slowing down, but there are still lots of goodies to be had.

Late-season potatoes/tomatoes/cucumbers, figs and bay leaves

The autumn garden is burnished with copper, bronze, and golden tones, especially on brilliantly sunny though cooler days.

The Iris foliage will soon be clipped down to about six inches.

In the flower garden, the blue asters are coming into prominence.


The black-eyed Susan vine, both the volunteers from the previous season and the ones purposely planted in early spring, brighten the garden.

Pinks in a pot and a volunteer black-eyed Susan trailing from its cement crack onto a support

Hopefully these covering a fence will reseed themselves for next season

À la prochaine!

Tuesday, 1 October 2013

Dayo's Memoriam: Three Lessons and a Poem

Last Tuesday, we announced the tragic death of our beloved, gentle, and sweet tabby cat, Dayo. As we sifted through various emotions during last week, what became clear is that we had a significant, loving relationship with him lasting just over two years. I exclaimed that I wish I could have told Dayo how important he was in our lives, to which The Calm One replied, you showed him every day how important he was. Lesson learned: Actions are where it's at.

Dayo's nose showed three, vertical wrinkles when he yawned or ate, what I called his full wrinkle mode.

Standing behind the net curtains, I watched The Calm One and Monsieur M carry what I can only consider as Dayo's casket and place it into what I can also only consider as his hearse. Though the house felt empty without his presence, it was the void left in my heart that threaten to swallow me whole in its desolation. 

Before falling asleep, Dayo would always first knead for a few minutes while doing his distinctive purr: a kind of rumbling hiccupping while the delicate, pink tip of his tongue stuck out.

Wondrous qualities exist in living creatures, and Dayo had many: ability to trust, curiousity, courage, beauty, grace, energy, affection, cleverness, playfulness, creativity, and receptivity to being loved.

Dayo hardly ever drank from his water bowl; he jumped onto the sink so he could drink directly from the faucet.

The Calm One had the presence of mind to bring a two-year supply of anti-flea treatment along with Dayo's body to the vet. As he was making a donation of the medicine, a man entered the room, to whom the vet said, here, this is for your cat clinic. Second lesson learned: Pass it on no matter how much you may be locked within your own concerns. 

Dayo had many hiding places in the garden and the house.

Since The Calm One hung out with Dayo mostly in the house and I in the garden, he, stricken with grief, is found coming into a room, saying, I miss Dayo, while I am found in the garden saying the same thing to which he responds, If missing Dayo could bring him back, he would have returned a second after his death.

Dayo was always ready for a good sparring: here he was trying to attack my camera's strap. He could leap several feet in the air to give a gentle, soft swipe on the nose.

Because our sense of loss was so intense at first, plus we were focused on practical matters concerning Dayo's death, our healing was put on hold. After several days, as we live without him, our understanding deepens regarding what that means to us. Our conversation is peppered with: I just opened the linen cupboard, if Dayo was here he would be inside in a flash; It's the time for Dayo to come in for the night; I wonder where he is (which would have been followed by our searching until we found his new hiding spot).


He was a beautiful, sensuous creature at home in nature

Our thoughts also are filled with his memory: when making my way to my side of the bed in the dark, I stop myself from feeling for a furry pile melded into my pillow which I have to slide gently between The Calm One and me; when seeing a bump under the covers during the day, we think we need to make sure it's not Dayo before our lying down for a nap; when I open the fridge and see the butter, I think, oh, Dayo would have loved a bit of it.

He was as Madame M says, très rigolo (very funny) and made us laugh every day.

We are grateful for all the kindness, understanding, and support given to us by you.  We appreciated each and every comment. Your commiseration makes us feel less bereft.

Dayo loved to be picked up and would stay in our arms or draped over our shoulders for long periods of time

For those of you who have lost pets, we understand.  For those of you who will unfortunately lose pets, hopefully you will not be alone in your sadness because people are becoming more aware that pets are furry people whose death require mourning.
 
Here he is checking out a kitten on the net. When I was working at my computer, he would nudge his way into my arms where he would remain cradled for several hours. When he was very young, he would suckle on the buttons of my shirt or climb up until he hid in my hair.

The third lesson? It was our mutual attentiveness to each other that was the magic. We mattered to each other in the most basic way that transcended species; we were all alive at the same moment, linked through that connection despite--or perhaps because of--the transient nature of life. 

Farewell to Dayo 
by Hans Pufal aka The Calm One 

When you arrived you were so small
To get about you could but crawl.
Your eyes shone bright as burnished gold
And when we heard that cutest of cries
We'd pick you up like a little fur ball

You told us your name by typing it out
But not speaking cat we could only doubt
And then we noticed those four little letters
A song came to mind, but let's ignore that
Your name is Dayo, no more messing about!

It was on your first garden outing
And so much needed careful scouting
You climbed that tree all the way to the top
It was quite an adventure to get you down
But quickly you learnt to tackle anything

When cats do die where they go
Is something that no one does know
Your presence brightened every day
And this we wish where ever you are
Farewell, godspeed to you dear Dayo. 


RELATED POSTS

Announcement of Dayo's death
All my Dayo blog posts


Tuesday, 24 September 2013

Dayo, Rest in Peace

There is no regular blog post this week.

I and The Calm One found Dayo's body in our garden today. He was just about two and half years old. Dayo appears to have head injuries, and we speculate that he may have fallen from our pergola. We will ask the vet if a cause of death can be determined.

We are both devastated. Dayo slept on our bed almost every night, and we will miss him very much.

As he was such an integral part of this blog, I am sure you will miss him also.

This is the last picture I took of him, just yesterday.


Tuesday, 17 September 2013

Gaspacho Pasta Salad...and cucumber/green onion/chive raitziki

The potager's sole cucumber plant has put out a fruiting flush right at the end of its growing season. As there are still some recently harvested green peppers and beefsteak tomatoes in the fridge, gazpacho came to mind. But so did pasta!


For two meal-sized or four smaller servings of Gaspacho Pasta Salad, you will need around 24 fluid ounces of cooked penne (ridged, hollow pasta tubes which hold dressing well without getting too soggy), one large, peeled cuke, two medium tomatoes, 1 large green pepper, a couple of hard-boiled eggs (if desired), several garlic cloves, 2 fluid ounces of sherry vinegar, 6 fluid ounces of olive oil, salt, and freshly ground pepper.

Check, especially with garden-grown cucumbers, that they are not bitter.

While the pasta is cooking (takes about ten minutes), wash and dry the veggies. Then chop coarsely the tomatoes, green pepper (first remove seeds and white inner parts), and peeled cucumber.  Mince finely the garlic. Put the veggies in a large bowl.


Make a vinaigrette: put the sherry vinegar, olive oil, salt (start with a 1/2 tsp, more can be added to taste), and about 1/4 tsp of freshly ground pepper in a small jar. Screw on lid and shake well.

Drain well the pasta and add to the veggies. Toss the whole lot with the vinaigrette (all may not be needed). Adjust seasonings. It does taste good tepid if you are too hungry to chill the salad. Hard boiled eggs are often used to garnish gaspacho soup, so they could be included to make a complete meal. The glistening pasta and colourful veggies add up to one delicious dish.


Another variation is making a gaspacho hero/submarine/hoagie. Split a sandwich length of French bread. Pull out the soft center from both halves and tear them into small pieces.

Bread in general freezes well, so keep some in the freezer for convenience

Add la mie (bread sans crust) to the salad and toss well, ensuring that the bread absorbs the dressing.


Layer the salad on the bottom half and top with minced hard-boiled eggs.


Dribble a bit more dressing and cover with top half. This fresh-tasting sandwich's crunch is offset by la mie sponging up the vinaigrette.


When our family from Britain came to visit recently, my sister-in-law gifted me with a book, The Forager's KitchenThe author, +Fiona Bird, has created tasty and creative recipes based in part on ingredients she is able to forage in Scotland from forest, beach, and meadow. One of her recipes came in handy for using up the last of the cucumbers. She writes, My husband, Stephen, invented this recipe name because it is a cross between a raita and a tzatziki.

The wild ingredient in this recipe, ramps (wild garlic), does grow in our potager, but in early spring. I substituted both mature ciboule (Welsh onion) which I had planted in early spring and garlic to take the place of the ramps. Slender green onions could be an alternative to ciboule.

Twinned mature ciboule

To make four side servings you will need the white part from five ciboule or ramps (ten young green onions can be substituted), one fat, peeled garlic clove (if not using ramps), one half of a medium cucumber, fifteen chives about 7 inches (18 cm) in length, 3 tablespoons of crème fraîche, juice and zest of 1/2 small lime or lemon, and 1 teaspoon of fleur de sel or sea salt.


Grate the peeled cucumber into a sieve placed over a bowl. Sprinkle the grated cucumber with the salt and let stand for fifteen minutes.


While the cucumber is draining, mince the chives, ciboule/green onions/ramps, and garlic (if not using ramps) finely, using either a mixer or a knife. Make the lemon zest.

Ceramic knives keep their edge without sharpening!

Ease a small bowl into the sieve and press out as much liquid as is possible.


When you think you have gotten the grated cucumber as dry as possible, think again and give it one last pressing.


In a bowl, mix together the crème fraîche, freshly ground black pepper, lemon juice/zest (add the juice gradually to ensure that it does not become too tart for your taste), the minced green onions/chives/garlic mixture, and the drained cucumber.


The raitziki was full of zing and win and would go well served with spicy food.


The potager has been enjoying many a day of rain while we have been enjoying staying in, looking out at the rain...

Looking through French doors overlooking the side balcony and garden

while doing justice to the remaining cantaloupes that were harvested before the garden became The Soggy Kingdom.


Dayo likes a romp outdoors from time to time as long as we towel dry him when he comes back in.


À la prochaine! 

RELATED POSTS

Chilled Cucumber Soup
Gaspacho
Refrigerator pickles
Cantaloupe Granita Caramel Cream Parfait

Tuesday, 10 September 2013

Late Summer Harvest...and some recipes

The transition from summer to fall is a scramble between last-minute harvesting/preserving and first-minute sowing of winter crops.  This easing over into another garden focus often gets stalled.  I stubbornly think the carrots could put on some growth, the melons/tomatoes could ripen a bit more, and the green bean/cucumber plants still have some potential although their yellowed, crisp leaves belie any possible anticipation.  If they stay in, then there is no room for fresh plants and hopeful seeds.

Up came the remaining carrots and into the soup pot they went. Recipe for Velouté de carottes is here.

Garnished with bacon and French bread chunks

The last of the beefsteak tomatoes along with a few cucumbers went into a salad. Here's the recipe for the vinaigrette.

Juicy, ripe tomatoes and cukes were thinly sliced 

Ditto for the green beans.

Onion rings, capers, grated Parmesan were added

I altered my basic recipe for Linguine with Roasted Garlic, Parsley, Capers, and Parmesan by choosing tagliatelle, using minced sauteed garlic, replacing the parsley with basil, and tossing some green beans into the boiling water along with the pasta.



Roma tomatoes look like glossy red eggs, and I love harvesting them as they fall neatly into my cupped hand.


Their meaty juiciness is brought out in Creamy Tomato Soup with Edam and Rice. (Recipe here)


And tomato sauce with sausage.

Grated carrot and heaps of basil, not to mention Romas, consort in a cauldron of bubbling goodness

We can resume having lasagne (recipe) now that there is a nice supply of sauce.


Green peppers are awaiting to be stuffed and baked. (Link to recipe is at the end of this post.)


Butternut squash is willing and waiting to be stored in the root cellar.


Soon the onion and garlic harvest which have been curing under the pergola since July will be trimmed, bagged, and stored.

Ferninand Pichard Rose is still putting out its fragrant clusters of flowers

Evening temperatures are cool enough to warrant bringing in the potted basil.


The garden in autumn has a different feel for sure; there are still sunny warm days, but the dawn and twilight are deliciously cool.  I love seeing blue skies dressed with billowing clouds.

Tracery of our fig tree etched against the autumn sky

Nothing is more wonderful than digging up taters.

Prospero is a lovely variety which forms tight, shallow clumps making unearthing them a cinch.

After a harvest consisting of about twenty-five melons--not to mention their consumption--it was satisfying pulling up the well spent plants.


With beds cleared, winters crops like broccoli and Brussels sprouts can be transplanted.


Black-Eye Susan vine (Thunbergia Alata) is doing a brilliant take-over with my permission. There is a nice collection of them colonising various cracks in walkways in the front garden.

One plant has made a cheery home right on the front steps!

Dayo is enjoying being completely over his pesky paw injury and spending time in the garden.

His cradle of green is the nursery bed for laurels


But he is also spending more time indoors than he did before incurring his injury.  He is pulling way less overnighters.

Four paws, count 'em!  And they are all in good health. (I now check his paws each day for any injury)

À la prochaine!

RELATED POSTS

Green Peppers Stuffed with Toulouse Sausage/Brown Rice/Parmesan