Souped-up Garden

Tuesday, 18 June 2013

Pesto Is Not Just Basil!

Readers may remember a recent post about my basil pesto addiction. Though I knew that pesto can be made without basil, I never took seriously what I considered to be limp imitations. However, though I may have some rigid propensities, thankfully my practical nature won out. Our heavy green pea harvest helped expand my culinary boundaries by inspiring me to make a fresh pea pesto. It is good, good, good! While a basil pesto captures the sumptuousness of summer, the fresh pea version owns the very nature of spring with its vibrantly green colour and bright taste.

Tagliatelle & Fresh Pea Pesto

Think of the peas as subbing for both the basil and walnuts/pine nuts. Add olive oil, garlic, and Parmesan. C'est tout!

For two cups of pesto, gather 4 T of extra virgin olive oil, 1.5 cups* of lightly cooked, fresh peas, 1/2 cup* of grated Parmesan, 1/2 tsp salt, and 2-3 cloves of garlic.
*American unit measure, that is, 8 oz

A crucial aspect, however, is not only that the peas be fresh, but that they are barely cooked. Put a pot of water on the boil. Shell and rinse the peas. Add the peas to the boiling water. Remain by the pot and after thirty seconds test some peas which should have no raw taste and are bursting with flavour.

Drain and place them under running cold water to halt further cooking.

Put the cooked peas, grated Parmesan, olive oil, garlic, and salt in a mixing bowl.

If using a processor, blend all ingredients till mostly smooth. If using a stick mixer, garlic needs to be crushed/minced first.

Plop a nice amount onto pasta.

Mix the pesto into the pasta and add another dollop.

The Parmesan, fresh peas, garlic, and olive oil are perfect companions in this slightly sweet, flavoursome, and creamy pesto. Truly lovely stuff!

The atypical cool, rainy weather continues which means since I do not need to water, I have more time to catch up with other tasks like transplanting and weeding--and boy are there ever weeds because of all that moisture!

Pea bed is on the front left

Roses continue to delight in their unaccustomed drenching.

Ferdinand Pichard rose

Mystery rose with a glowing salmon pink colour, large quartered blooms, and clustering growth habit

As are the daisies.

And the potatoes.

Not to mention the red currants.

Dayo's recovery from his paw injury is still up and down. We let him out for a few days and all seems well.

Dayo can see that the transplanted rhubarb appreciate their new space

Then it is obvious that being outdoors is still a stress for his tender paw and back he goes into the house.

Dayo in the linen cupboard

À la prochaine!

Tuesday, 11 June 2013

Strawberry Cobbler

The cuisine of the American South is appreciated for its down-home, gustatory excellence, showcased in a favourite of ours, chicken pot pie. Fruit cobbler, an upside-down cake, is a delicious, easy dessert from that region. I prefer the cake batter version instead of the sometimes used American biscuit dough.

Look at that fabulous caramelized bottom crust which is the top surface when baking.

Since my cooking bible, Fannie Farmer's Cookbook, had cobbler recipes for every kind of fruit imaginable except for what is now being harvested frantically in my potager, that is, strawberries, I resorted to researching the Net.

The harvest quickly escalated to the peak of 4 quarts daily, now slowing down to 3!

I grow three varieties of strawberries presently. It is always good to diversify via varieties for disease prevention and to get a more prolonged harvest. Two June-bearing varieties, Gariguette and Sengana are on the left with an ever bearing, the jumbo Willemse Savoureuse on the right.

Following a recipe that seemed to be the kind I wanted, that is, a cake batter one, I made something resembling more like a clafoutis. It was soggy and heavy in texture, but drenched with strawberry goodness, so we had no problem gobbling it up. Its use of lemon juice and zest to liven up the cobbler was something I took away to apply to the recipe that I wound up using.

An entirely edible first attempt

Since lack of strawberries were no problem, I had another go, this time using the recipe from Fannie Farmer, following her directions for berry cobbler even though strawberries were not listed as one of the fruit substitutions. The proportion of flour to milk was much higher and the amount of strawberries were less which made me hope that it would result in more of a cake texture with the strawberries staying put on the bottom.

The 1987 edition of my kitchen's holy book

Oh my! It worked out exactly the way I imagined--fragrant, ruby-red sauce bubbling under fluffy yellow cake. I had thought her using an ample amount of salt was overdoing it, but it was the perfect amount, intensifying the flavour.

Flour, white, 1.5 cups*/215 grams
Baking powder, 2 tsp
Butter, sweet, 12 Tbls
Sugar, 3/4 cup*/150 grams
Salt, 3/4 tsp
Strawberries, fresh, sliced, 3 cups*
Milk, 1/2 cup/1 dL
Egg, 1
Lemon juice, freshly squeezed, 1 tsp
Lemon zest, 1 tsp
Cream, ice cream, fresh sliced strawberries for garnishing

*American unit measure, that is, 8 oz

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F/190 degrees C. Wash, hull (always done after washing to prevent them from getting soggy), and slice strawberries. Dry them if they will not be sliced right away.

Melt 4 tablespoons of the butter in a small pan and spread evenly on the bottom of an eight-inch square pan.

Place the sliced strawberries on top of the melted butter. Mix 1/4 teaspoon of the salt with 1/4 cup of the sugar and sprinkle along with lemon juice on the strawberries.

Mix together the flour, baking powder, remaining 1/2 cup sugar and 1/2 teaspoon salt along with lemon zest in a large bowl.

Melt the remaining 8 tablespoons of the butter and remove from the heat, adding the milk and egg. Beat well.

Add the liquid mixture into the dry one and beat until smooth. It will be very thick but still fluid.

The batter will pour like ribbons over the berries which will need to be concealed. I had to angle the batter bowl when pouring to accomplish the perfect cover-up.

Bake about 30 minutes or until a tooth pick comes out clean and the top is wonderfully carmelized. Cut into squares and serve bottom side up.

My insisting we needed to test its edibility while the cobbler was warm, tepid, and cold, triggered this quip from The Calm One: how about testing it for each degree of change in temperature? It was best warm, still very good tepid, and more like delicious candy when served cold.

Tepid cobbler topped with fresh, sliced strawberries and drenched in lightly beaten cream

Coffee ice cream goes very well with warm strawberry cobbler

Besides strawberries, the pea harvest is coming in presently.

Though I will use them for specific recipes, like fresh pea pesto and fresh pea soup, I like adding them to already existing menu items like Scotch Broth.

In the flower garden, roses and peonies are showing off their frilly, pink dresses.

Queen Elizabeth hedge rose, peonies, and lavender

Red roses deepen the colour palette.

Deep red, nearly black in part, velvety L'etoile de Hollande, a robust climber with an astounding Damask fragrance.

Dayo unfortunately still needs to be kept indoors because of a paw injury, and he continues to help me in my indoor duties.

Here he is resting after his strenuous reading of a large French cookbook & alerting me to the best recipes

He also acts as my professional adviser on which bed linens from the cupboard I should choose.

À la prochaine!

RELATED POSTS

Growing strawberries
Individual, top crust strawberry pies with dark-chocolate ganache
Eton Mess...and how to make strawberry coulis
Strawberry heart scones

Tuesday, 4 June 2013

Spinach, Mushroom, Bacon & Hard-Boiled Salad With Warm Dressing...and strawberry harvest begins!

Raw salads in France tend to be basic affairs--mostly salad greens served with vinaigrette. When working in New York City, I loved going to a nearby Greek-American, family-owned coffee shop to enjoy various hearty, main-meal salads, such as Cobb, Chef, and Spinach/Mushroom.

Though I could choose any dressing from many, there was no warm dressing on the menu which would slightly wilt the spinach leaves. With such an ample spinach harvest because of the prolonged, cool, rainy spring, my focusing on finding ways to serve this bounty affords the opportunity to make such a dressing. Of course, sauteed spinach in itself is a delightful accompaniment to meals.

Sauteed spinach sidling up to chicken pot pie

If more oomph is desired, top with Parmesan shavings.

Using a potato peeler, scrape off slivers of Parmesan.

For each serving for a hearty spinach salad, you will need two slices of fried bacon (more if so desired), two large hard-boiled egg, four large, white mushrooms, several thin onion slivers, about eight ounces of baby spinach leaves (the small center leaves of larger clumps can be substituted). For the dressing, you will need one tablespoon of reserved bacon fat, one tablespoon of Sherry vinegar (yes, I know other vinegars do exist, but sherry is soooooo nice), salt to taste, and 1/2 teaspoon of Dijon mustard, plus paprika and fleur de sel for garnishing.

While the eggs are boiling, wash and dry the spinach well. Wrap the leaves in a tea cloth and keep in the fridge. Doing this will result in crisp greens, and I do this for all salad greens. If they are to remain overnight in the fridge, I will put the towel-wrapped greens in a large plastic bag. Peel cooled eggs, slice into thick rounds, and set aside.

Fry the bacon, reserving the amount of fat required. Blot the bacon with paper towels. When cooled, crumble or cut into bite-sized pieces.

While the bacon is frying, slice some onion slivers and the mushrooms and put them into a suitable sized serving bowl. Gather vinegar, salt, and mustard and keep close to the stove.

In a small saucepan over a moderate flame, heat the bacon drippings, vinegar, salt, and mustard till the dressing is hot.

Pour it over the spinach and add the bacon and toss well. Top with the hard-boiled egg rounds and sprinkle them with paprika. Dust with fleur de sel and serve immediately. The rich coating takes a bit of the fluff out of the leaves, making the salad more substantial and sleek. The combination of textures and flavours is delectable.

In the potager, the strawberry harvest has begun thanks to a few days of sunshine. The first flush of gariguettes were picked, a lovely variety whose 'belly button' is an 'outie', thereby making hulling a cinch.

With the combination of less sunshine than usual along with a lot of rain, this season's harvest is not as sweet, but the berries are way more juicier. It is such a nice treat to pick them and immediately plunk them down in a bowl of cereal.

Crumbled-up Weetabix!

And when in doubt to what to do with strawberries, just add Crème Chantilly.

My whittling down the hefty supply of potted seedlings waiting to be transplanted continues--most of the thirty tomato plants are in the ground. It's best to dig first a practice hole, placing the rooted tomato transplant in it to make sure that the level of the bed will be just underneath the first set of true leaves. Tomato plant stems will sprout roots if planted, unlike most other plants. In this way, a robust root system is encouraged. If the lower stem is not planted and if there is a great deal of rain, you may be able to see these root buds forming, looking like solid, green bubbles. A neighbour had thought they were evidence of a malady!