Onward and Downward

I am not sure about the dandelion greens. I will look them up and post the results. I am pretty sure that they are a Springtime treat only, as ramps are. This time of year they are a bit long in the tooth
You may be on to something regarding the pot roast. I have been using white wine and a mixture of beef broth and chicken broth. I may be browning the meat too much. The beef I have been using is probably too lean. With the new eating habits people are developing, it is harder and harder to find chuck in the market. I have a nice rump roast in the freezer which has a fine lot of marbling in it and is in the on-deck circle for pot roast. I may also use too many different vegetables and herbs. This problem might have much to do with the fact that the pot roast takes so long to cook and there is a rather large bottle of opened wine on the table. I have forgotten about K.I.S.S. when I cook.
Yesterday was a glorious day. I went for a walk. I made chicken parmesan, well not really parmesan more like chicken mozzarella with asiago cheese. I fry the chicken thighs in the big cast iron pan, dusting each side with garlic powder and chili powder and then putting on the cheese and blackening it under the broiler.

Dandelion Greens

Wilted Serves Four
Saute five slices of bacon. Remove bacon from pan. Drain on paper towels and crumble.
Heat two tablespoons of melted butter or bacon drippings or oil.
Add 1/4 cup of mild vinegar and 1 teaspoon of chopped herbs.
Add then bacon and 1 teaspoon of grated onion and 1 teaspoon of sugar.
Pour the dressing over:
1 head of lettuce separated; shredded cabbage;dandelion, young spinach,or other greens.

Serve at once in a warm bowl onto warm plates, garnish with sliced hard cooked eggs.

You can also serve dandelion greens mixed with other greens in a fresh salad. There is a caution about wild greens. Do not let them represent to great a proportion of the other greens as many of them contain oxylates and other substances that may be harmful if consumed in quantity. Do not use dandelion greens from the neighbor's lawn unless you have developed a taste for Scott's Weed Killer.
Speaking of oxylates, I know that spinach is very high in oxylates and that Popeye must have set the Guiness World Record for kidney stones.

Once the flowers have bloomed, dandelion greens become very bitter. That probably makes them very eligible for my pot roast.

Pot Roast.2

I am trying pot roast again. I started it yesterday and will finish it today. I would have finished yesterday but the cooking time is very lengthy and I was tired so I put it in the refrigerator and will finish the cooking today. I am not using the super duper recipe from Cook's Illustrated. I have reverted to The Joy of Cooking. The Joy of Cooking is probably the most extensive cookbook ever written. The Ladie's recipes run from dandelion greens to roasting a whole moose. She also gives the warning about making garlic oil. Garlic plus olive oil plus too many hours equals botulism! Lidia gives the same warning.
The weather here has been incredible. It is as if Spring has returned. I am looking forward to cooler temperatures.

Uneasy Rests the Crown

It's not easy being King of the Heat. The tribulations of frost on the inside of the windows and sleeping with a ski hat on are never fully recognized. As an old Swamp Yankee, I am used to the onslaught of Winter. I revel in its purity and severity. The days of soups and stews and pies are upon us and have been much awaited.
As November first approached, I was concerned about being labeled a sissy for turning the heat on. Then redemption arrived. I beat out the Angel of Arlington by several hours. So I am King for one more year.
The place where I live is now nice and toasty. The fruit flies in the kitchen are flitting about, while visions of squishy plums dance in their heads.
It is finally here. The season of rest and contemplation and reading and hot chocolate and warm fuzzy slippers. To sit inside with a hot cup of coffee and watch a blizzard pile up its soft fluffy gift outside, has long been awaited. Apple pie and roasted, stuffed, poultry and sitting in the kitchen while the gentle heat from the stove and the fragrances of the roasting fill the room is a pleasure that people of the tropics cannot share.
The time of simplicity is upon me. No daily checking to make sure that the plants outside have enough water and picking caterpillars off them. No worrying about melanoma of the pate. Out comes the goose down and the gloves and off I trudge through the squeaky soft snow. I must find a hat that will accomodate my King of the Heat crown. Maybe the Angel of Arlington has one that I can use. She definitely won't be using it this year.

The Heat is On

I didn't make it to November first. When I got up this morning the temperature inside here was more than cool, it was downright frosty. I turned on the heat and went out into the kitchen to make coffee. I also turned on the oven to warm up the kitchen while I was waiting for the heat to warm up this place. As I did that I had to surpress a chuckle.
Many years ago, when I lived with her, Lucy would have the heat at a very low level. We had a self-cleaning electric stove. Those stoves get up to six hundred degrees when they are cleaning themselves. To help with the daily chores, I would clean the stove regularly. Sometimes I would clean it more than once a day. I would sit in the kitchen and wait patiently for the stove to unlock itself. Sitting, sipping coffee, with the Sun streaming in through the patio door, those are pleasant memories. Time spent with the Madonna of Middletown, that is an even more pleasant memory.
It has warmed up now. It will be a pleasant day for baking. Corn bread would go well with the soup. I will walk first to put an edge on my appetite.

Soup is On

The soup that I made Wednesday came out pretty good. This is noteworthy because the soups that I make are usually a disaster. The soup is lentil, with a bunch of other things.
Lentils, carrots, onions, garlic, peppers, tomatoes, tomato paste, lima beans, peas, beef broth, a splash of white wine, and leftover pork chops with bones combined to make something that is nice with bread and shredded cheese. It is a good time for soup as the weather has turned just a little bit chilly. It reminds me of an old French saying, "Soup is enough if there is enough soup.".
Another French saying comes to mind. My dear, sweet, French friend used to say "Kissing a man without a moustache is like soup without salt.". Life without her is like soup without a spoon. I can remember what the flavor was but I cannot partake of it. Life goes on but the warmth is gone.

Roasted

Yesterday I finished making the pot roast. It is O.K. but not as luscious as I anticipated. The failing was probably because I was unable to get chuck eye of the round and used another cut of beef that was less marbled. The gravy was not as intense as I expected. I have a dismal history with pot roast. I have another piece of beef that I will try. It is a rump roast and very well marbled. I hate to waste such a nice piece of beef on pot roast. It would be tastier as a roast beef but it is too big for me to use it as a roast and pot roast will last a long time refrigerated.
The green tomatoes have all been picked and the peppers have all been picked. The herbs are inside in pots and the lemon tree is also. They are resting on the air conditioners which are now on the floor just below the sunniest window. The fragrance of the basil and thyme and sage are pleasing and if the lemon tree manages to blossom, its fragrance will be welcomed. The coriander never produced any seeds and I do not like the flavor of it as an herb. It is too soapy.
Today I will pick the other basil leaves and the flat parsley. They dry nicely, although their flavor never approaches that of fresh. E's cherry peppers came in nicely and I may try to stuff them. I anticipate having ripe tomatoes for Christmas. The beef stock was O.K. but nothing to rave about. I have a surfeit of apples and should make a pie today. I will make one more attempt at pie crust but I know that I can never reach the stage of perfection that my eldest daughter does.

Not Roast

I didn't make the pot roast yesterday. I headed out for the market to purchase the meat but the clouds looked so ominous that I returned to the place that I live. Instead I cooked up a small piece of beef with beef broth and Marsala and cream and onions and peppers and tomatoes. It was rather tasty eaten over rice.
Several days ago I watched an interview with the Dalai Lama. One thing that he said has been rattling through my mind like a marble in a boxcar. He said "The Buddha said "You are your own master."". Wow, if that doesn't make one feel like a complete failure in life. I will see if it can be effectively applied to the future. No more blaming cicumstances or other people for things that happen. If things go wrong, it is your own fault Boyo! Serendipity is not responsible for the good things, you can take some credit for them. The whole concept seems to negate the idea of Fate. The whole idea is somehow comforting.
It might be nice to have the Dalai Lama elected president of the whole world, with a collection of Buddhist monks as an administration. Of course, something would have to be done about the incessant giggling. Maybe not, giggling is preferable to sabre rattling.

Frosty

Yesterday morning I went out early because I had an errand to run. It was the first morning of the season that I could see my breath outside. The weather forecast for today includes a possible frost for this evening. It is time to pick all of the green tomatoes and bring in the herbs.
Yesterday was a day for comfort food. I made chili. This time I reduced the amount of spicy and hot things. I made the chili with kidney beans and a great deal of cumin and garlic and chopped fresh tomatoes. I have a plethora of fresh tomatoes and am using them in everything. I poured the chili over brown rice and topped it with chopped onion and shredded cheese. It came out very nice and I didn't have to deal with the fire down below.
I have come to enjoy brown rice. It takes twice as long to cook but has a chewiness and taste that I find pleasing. I started using brown rice as I have become concerned about the number of processed starches that I eat. Pasta and noodles and white bread and a large amount of white rice are the mainstays of my menu. I recently read that they are not good for me and I am trying to concentrate on whole grains.
If today holds true, I hope to try out the new recipe that I have for pot roast. I have never been able to achieve the state of pot roast that is so glorified by restaurant pot roast and I do love it so. Visions of tender slices of long cooked beef with oodles of thick delicious gravy and buttermilk biscuits and mashed potatoes have me drooling now.
It is cool where I live right now. I have on a sweatshirt and sweatpants and am sipping a nice hot coffee. It is the best of times and it is the wurst of times.

Falling

There has been a remarkable change in the weather. Fall is definitely here. The mornings are crisp, the days are warm, and the nights allow cuddling up under a soft warm blanket. There is condensation on the inside of the windows, there is glory in the profusion of colors of the maple trees, and it is a good time for walking.
I took the long walk yesterday. I am not sure how long it is but I think that it is several miles. The walk was not as easy as it used to be. I have been away from it too long. It was very pleasant though. The Sun warms the head and hands, the fallen leaves crunch beneath the feet, and the sky is an intense blue. It is the best season of the Northeast. Today may be the day to bake an apple pie.
Yesterday was pork chops Marsala. The dish was not very good as I added too many other ingredients. I forgot about KISS. The next time will be more Marsala and butter and less flour and broth.
I have closed up all of the storm windows and taken the air conditioner out of the window. I must have left at least two fruit flies in the kitchen as I now have quite a few flitting about in the kitchen. They will have to be shooed outside today.
Yesterday's walk included, of course, a stop at the market. I didn't need anything but I got a few things anyway so yesterday's meal included mashed potatoes.
I am beginning to wonder if eating only one meal a day is wrong. I only get hungry once a day and it seems a waste to eat when I am not hungry. I do not enjoy eating as much as I used to but I enjoy cooking even more than I used to. Perhaps I need to walk more and work up an appetite. I will try to do this as this weather is too good to be ignored. I will stumble along and watch the sky and the trees and the flyers from the market. It is a time for soups and stews and corn bread and good cheese. The clams that the market now has are surprisingly good. They are farm raised and have almost no sediment in them. It is titilating to think of a sea-clamboy, riding a sea horse, rounding up a herd of clams. "Get along little molluscs, we're bound for Wyoming.".

Paternity

Saturday I watched an amazing Dad and his amazing son tackle fishing. The Dad, in his quiet gentle way, slowly taught his son about casting. The boy dove right in to casting, glorying in learning how to teach the bait about waterskiing. The Dad, time and time again, showed the son about being quiet and letting the bait sit and letting the fish have a nibble before taking the bait. Each time the boy cast the bait, the cast went further out into the river. Soon he was almost reaching the far bank. Again and again the bait was in for its wild ride. Again and again the Dad explained about letting the bait rest. Eventually the message was absorbed and, lo and behold, a fish was pulled up out of the river. That was when I learned that the Father had introduced the son to barbless hooks. (Kudos Dad). Each time the fish was returned to the river. (Kudos again).
All the while the Angel of Arlington sat watching her boys. We would move only when the boy reared back to cast again. We would hide behind a tree as eyeballs don't make good bait.
I feel blessed to even know them. The come to my place, endure my never varying menu, and leave amid a profusion of hugs and handshakes. They are quiet, which suits my demeanor, gentle, and beautiful. There should someday be a plaque or statue dedicated to this wonderful family. No whining, no gossip, no strident complaining. Just two quiet, gentle, polite, intelligent people raising a quiet, gentle, polite, intelligent boy in their own admirable manner.
One suggestion loved ones, get another fishing rod. There was just a hint of yearning in Dad's eyes each time his son cast out into the river. Also get some latex gloves. They are necessary when taking the fish off of the hook so as to not remove the mucas on the fish's skin.