Saturday turned out to be a very long day. It was a good one, though, although we have no plans of repeating it. Gayle got permission from a local farmer to pick some peas out of his large field which he is growing for seed (a lot of people have been picking peas there). We went over and decided to just pick for an hour and see what we would end up with. We got five bushels! Our pickers are fast. Then–we had to shell them! We all sat around on the front porch all afternoon and evening. I am able to shell peas almost as fast while I read as when I don’t, so I propped a book in my bowl and read aloud. We read an entire 150-page book about a girl in Pompeii that afternoon! The baby played on the porch around us, and 3-year-old brought drinks of water around regularly. The afternoon was a great family time–but we didn’t finish the job till late at night, which was the not-nice part. We ended up with 38 kilograms (57 quarts) of peas in the freezer, but I decided that is not worth repeating (unless they would be organic; these are not).
Homemaking
Cherry Soup
We’ve picked wild sweet cherries twice this year, already, and I thought I’d share one of our family’s favorite ways to eat them: Cherry Soup. This is a recipe that my Mom got from a Hungarian cookbook back when I was a girl. We always enjoyed it growing up, and my family loves it today. I don’t think I make it exactly like the recipe, and I happen to be holding a sleeping baby right now so I’m not going to go look it up, but here’s how I make it:
Put in pot:
1 quart pitted cherries
1 quart water or fruit juice (I concentrate plum juice and often use that)
3/4 cup sugar (not sure of this one–might want less)
1/2-1 teaspoon cinnamon
Bring to a boil. Whisk together:
3/4 cup water
1/2 cup flour
Add to boiling mixture, stir till boiling again and thick.
Beat 2 eggs. Stir some of the boiling mixture into the eggs to warm them, then stir them into the pot. Turn off the heat as soon as you think the eggs are cooked enough.
Stir in 2 cups cream or milk.
We enjoy this with crusty bread. Sometimes this soup will be the main course; other times I make it to go along with something else. Leftovers are great for breakfast, or dessert at lunch the next day.
The finished soup
Baby loves cherries already
Broccoli
When I was in the garden this morning, I noticed (again) that the broccoli needed picked, so assigned a boy to cut it for me. We got a nice bowl-full of beautiful, worm-free organic broccoli! Next question–what to do with it? I can’t eat it raw, and we don’t especially like it cooked. When Gayle got home from work I asked him if he had an idea; he suggested cooking it with mushroom soup. I got online, and found this recipe. Well, I have to work around Gayle’s allergy to cow’s milk, and I don’t keep those ingredients on hand anyway, but it sounded good. So, I cooked the broccoli. While that was cooking, I put homemade goat feta cheese in the food processor, with some goat yogurt, and a couple of tablespoons of basil pesto from the freezer, and whizzed it. Then, I made croutons from a flopped batch of sourdough bread by frying cubes in a skillet with fat, seasoned with salt, pepper and paprika. As soon as the broccoli was cooked, I drained it and in the same pot it had been in, made a white sauce with goat’s milk, flour, salt, pepper and paprika, and added cooked frozen mushrooms and the cheese mixture. I put the broccoli in a baking dish, poured the sauce mixture over it, and topped it with croutons. Then, I baked it for half an hour or so. It turned out quite good!
There! Now, I can look back here when I want to remember how I did this.
Freezer Inventory
We had our heifer butchered today, so in anticipation of a freezer full of meat soon (after it is cut up and packaged) I sorted, organized and inventoried all our freezers. It was amazing to see how empty they are–they were chock full two months ago! We go through a lot of food here.
This is the most of what is in the freezers (I left out some little things):
Kitchen frig
cooked beef 5 pints
chopped peppers 3 bags
pineapple 3 small bags
mushrooms, fried 7 small bags
celery 3 small bags
Laundry frig freezer
walnuts 2 big bags
beef mince 11 kg
chicken breast 2 pkg
cut-up chicken 3 pkg
goose 1
leg of lamb 1
duck 1
casserole 1
Laundry chest freezer
peas 6 kg
mixed veges 3 kg
pumpkin 6 quarts, cooked
parsnips 3 quarts, cooked
plums 11 gallons
zucchini 17 4-cup bags
sandwich meat 2 pkgs
sausages 11 pkgs
whole chicken 8
goat chunks 10
duck 1
Shed freezer:
pumpkin 3 quarts
zucchini 10 quarts
cow milk 16 bottles
goat milk 16 bottles
This isn’t quite everything; I left out some of the insignificant little things that always litter a freezer. What a blessing to have such a stash of food on hand! And, most of it was home-grown. The peas and mixed veges and sandwich meat, and the celery, mushrooms, and pineapple, came from the supermarket; the cooked beef, beef mince, and sausages came from where Gayle works; otherwise, it was all grown here or foraged locally (the ducks and geese were gifts from hunters here).
Question
Any ideas what this is?
Hint: it was our breakfast this morning, and has no artificial colors in it. Put your guesses in the comments–I’ll post the answer in a few days.
Answer to the Question
I showed you this picture a few days ago and asked if anyone knew what it was. The answer? Cornmeal mush, with butter in it! I ground blue corn, then soaked it overnight in goat’s whey before cooking it. The butter is extra-orange because it was made from colostrum. Delicious!
Black Chicken
I was putting a chicken and a duck in the crockpot this morning to roast for supper, and told the boy who happened to be in the kitchen, “I’m cooking a purple chicken and a wild duck!” He laughed and reminded me about a Mexican who once bought some chickens from us. When we lived in Michigan we sold a lot of old laying hens to Mexicans–they liked them better than fryers and bought a lot from us live to butcher themselves. This particular man wanted a white chicken, and we happened to have one that was covered with white feathers. Now, it so happens that some white chickens (I think Silkie bantams) happen to have purplish skin, and the meat and even the organs are quite dark. This man took the chicken home and killed and plucked it, but the next day he was back complaining about the “black chicken.” His exact words were, “We eat cat, and we eat dog, but we don’t eat black chicken!” I think we gave him a different chicken, and we’ve been chuckling about it ever since.
By the way, this is a great way to use a tougher chicken, like an old laying hen. My sister-in-law discovered this method by accident, and I now do it a lot. Simply put one or two chickens in the crockpot with no water and turn on high for 6-10 hours, till they are fully cooked. Delicious and tender! I take off the breast meat when we’re ready to eat, and the drumsticks and thighs, then add water to the pot and cook again to make broth from what’s left.
Jar Blessing
I took the rubbish to the dump today, and paid the usual $3 to get rid of it. While I was dumping it, I noticed, beside the dumpster, a couple of boxes of jars. The man gave them to me, and then remembered that I like big jars, and brought me a gallon jar that was there, too! All this for nothing–I would have paid $32 for them at Recycling. That pays for a lot of trips to dump rubbish!
Milk!
We have another cow on the place today. Our landlord is wintering over several hundred dairy cows from farms near Culverden (122 cows are here). Ninety percent of New Zealand dairy farms are seasonal, meaning all the cattle calve in about August and are dried off in May, and most are trucked away from their home farm and grazed elsewhere over the winter to give the home farm a rest. Our landlord planted oats after the wheat was harvested, and the cows are given a small strip every day. This one cow had her calf at least a month earlier than she should have, and of course it died. She bagged up, though, so they offered that we could milk her till the herd goes home. That will keep her in milk for the farmer and give us more milk! Our own cow is still in milk, but not producing a lot, so this is good timing. The cow arrived here at 11:00 this morning, and I milked her immediately. We got 10 liters of colostrum! Now I’m trying to figure out how to use it. I found a couple of intriguing recipes here and here and here. We’ll see how many I actually get around to trying. Looks like, if we want to try the Indian recipes I’ll have to find some cardomom; wonder if the little local supermarket has it?
I think I’m a farmer at heart, and that cows are my favorite animal. Also, I look at things around me with the thought of whether we can get food from them!
She stood very still while I milked, although she has likely never been hand-milked before. She has lovely big teats!
This cat showed up while we were milking–looks as though it wants to move in.
Sourkraut Again
Two of my friends asked me this week about making sourkraut, so when I made my last batch of the year yesterday I decided to take pictures of the process for them. So, if you’re not interested in how to make sourkraut (thank you, Mom, for teaching me how!) then skip this one–although Grandma and aunts might want to look at the last picture!
Start by weighing out 5 pounds of cabbage and cutting the head into wedges.
Shred the cabbage. I use this hand-cranked gadget, but I’ve seen kraut-cutters occasionally. They must have been more common a hundred years ago–just a series of blades in a frame that you would push the cabbage back and forth over.
After all five pounds of cabbage are fairly finely shredded, sprinkle on 3 1/2 Tablespoons (2.5 ounces) of non-iodized salt.
Mix the salt through the cabbage.
If you don’t have a shredder of some sort, a large knife works, too–just takes a little longer. Cut your wedge of cabbage into several thin slices, then chop this way.
Five pounds of cabbage equals five pints of kraut. (A pint a pound the world around, you know!) I was making fifteen pounds yesterday, so the first two batches went into these five quart (liter) jars.
This first five pounds only half filled the jars, so at first it was pretty loose. It’s a good idea to put the jars in the mixing bowl to fill them, to save mess.
The second five pounds is going in the jars–now I have to pack it in. Press it down as tightly as possible. Yes, it will all fit in.
As you continue to pack the kraut in, the salt pulls water out of the cabbage, and you end up with a lot of liquid–good reason to do this in the bowl! I failed to do that with this batch, and ended up with a wet table.
For my last five pounds yesterday, I used odd-sized jars, so to find the right combination I got 10 cups of water and poured it into the jars till it exactly fit. Then I knew I had enough room for five pints of kraut.
Yes, all that cabbage fit in those five jars!
Sorry, no picture of the end of the process–this is why! He woke up five minutes before I finished and thought the world was coming to an end because he had to wait for Mommy! 
I cut squares of plastic from bags I bought frozen vegetables or sugar in, and put those right on top of the kraut, to help keep out the air and protect the lids, then put on the lids. The five biggest jars, of course, take preserving jar lids and rings, and the smaller jars have their own lids. Grease the inside of the preserving jar rings so they’ll be easier to take off. The juices ooze out as the cabbage ferments, and salt water is corrosive. Mom always uses the rustiest rings she has, so as not to ruin her good ones. Mine are all pretty nice, so I just use what comes to hand. Be sure to set them on a surface that will not be hurt by the salt water, and it’s a good idea to have a way to catch it! You’ll have a fair amount coming out of the jars. Keep them in a cool, dark place. DO NOT OPEN FOR SIX WEEKS! It takes that long for the kraut to totally ferment. Refrigerate after opening. Air makes it spoil.