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I’m feeling inspired.

Many, many of you have generously offered up your gorgeous recipes since I started writing a couple of years ago. I’d love more.

So here’s what I propose: A cooking tour—your recipes, me cooking and writing about them here on Eve’s Apple, and both of us talking about them afterward. I want to celebrate home cooks and what they make. And I think it would be fun to cook my way around the world if I can.

Here’s how you come in:

1) Send me your favorite recipe if you haven’t already.

A photo would be great, too, so I know what I’m shooting for. If I like it, I will add it to my list and cheerfully contact you to let you know. Please, no follow ups.

2) Stick to simple home cooking.

Most of you know this about me, but just to emphasize: I am far, far less impressed by the fancy, the fussy, the contrived and the eye-popping than in authentic, regional, humble dishes that focus on quality ingredients.

Soft-boiled eggs with dippy soldiers from Great Britain, melon jam from Greece, and fried zucchini blossoms from Rome are ideal examples of what I’m looking to cook (and I’ve received wonderful recipes of all three—thank you).

3) Send clear instructions of the recipe and the history behind it.

In other words, please tell me this sauce was your mother’s or grandmother’s favorite, or that your cousin has been making this potato salad for your family Labor Day picnic since 1956. I do love a story.

4) Allow me to do some light editing of the recipe if necessary.

5) Perimeters and no-go’s:

Please avoid…

-Recipes that call for cake mixes, MSG, processed foods and other artificial stuff. Chemicals can give me migraines.

-Anything too pricey, huge or difficult to find. If you’re a Laplander and want to offer your recipe for reindeer steaks, please know I’d dearly love to try it, but unfortunately, suburban New Jersey, USA doesn’t feature such things.

-Recipes that were found online, from a magazine, etc. I’d like ones from your own collection.

I’ll eat most foods. But some I won’t, because of flavor, politics or allergies, like: fennel/anise, veal, Chilean sea bass, swordfish, turnips, mint, eggplant and red radishes.

And p.s., I don’t own a grill or a microwave. I have an oven and 4 stove top jets. Old beach house.

6) Provide your name, city and country.

Message me one of two ways: via LinkedIn, or via email at mcproco@gmail.com. If your recipe is selected, I will credit you with your first name only, city and country.

*

Just an FYI: I will not be cooking a new recipe every single day of the year because I gave up masochism for Lent. My plan is to cook as many as I can in a year’s time. But I’ll balance writing about this project with writing about other topics so nobody gets burned out and everybody stays chomping at the bit.

Deadline for recipe submissions is midnight EST, June 27, 2013.

Sound good?

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The Lilac Law

Lilacs bloom according to this algorithm:

1) Sum the squared mean daily temperatures (in Celsius) since the last frost.

2) Use an average of the past few years’ daily temperatures to predict the date when this sum will reach 4264.

Despite my distaste in math, I find this fascinating—not just that this law was figured out in the 19th century, but that it was figured out at all. But then phenology goes back centuries.

Phenology* is the study of natural cycles—how one influences the other, and how we can take cues from what happens. The first beech leaves that unfurl, the first flight of the swallowtail butterfly—every genesis reflects the fragile interconnectedness of soil, air, sunlight, temperature, and dozens of other natural factors.

Long before spreadsheets and calculators, growers created their own data by carefully watching and waiting for nature’s cues to sow their precious seeds. It was a question of survival, a much more in-your-face reality back then. With no Shop-Rite, and your nearest neighbor often miles away, carelessness meant rolling the dice on starvation.

Some of their data include:

When lilacs are in leaf, sow beets, cabbage and broccoli.

When lilacs are in full bloom, sow beans and squash.

When apple blossom petals fall, sow corn.

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Apple blossom.

Or, as Laura Ingalls Wilder writes in Farmer Boy (a biography about her husband Almanzo’s growing-up years on an New York farm in the mid-1800s), when the leaves on the ash tree are as big as a squirrel’s ears, sow corn.**

In the same book, little Almanzo eagerly awaits ‘the dark of the moon’ (new moon) in May so he can sow pumpkins.

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Another one. When you see these…

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(Bearded irises)

…set out transplants of these.

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(Melons. Clearly.)

I read that even Martha Stewart traditionally plants peas on March 17, St. Patrick’s Day.

Laura Ingalls Wilder’s father swore by ‘Plant turnips on the 25th of July, wet or dry.’

(Compelling story: He also went goose hunting one fall day in the 1880s while he and the family were living in Dakota Territory, and, utterly dumbfounded, returned home with nothing. It wasn’t because he was a lousy shot; it was because the birds were flying high above the clouds—he could hear them—but not one came down low enough to shoot. They were getting out of Dodge, and at breakneck speed. In fact, he said the entire prairie was still; every living thing was hidden away. Another day that same fall he said he’d never seen muskrats’ dens built so thickly. He got his family out of their rickety little claim shanty and into a sturdy house in town in a heartbeat. Can you finish this story—have you read The Long Winter? Blizzards slammed the mid west for virtually seven months.)

Do you sow, or act, according to any of these ancient rules? What successes or failures have you had?

Do you swear by any other cues?

Has the fairly recent wacky weather (here in NJ we had snow Halloween 2011, and snowdrops came up right after Christmas that year) affected what you’ve done?

Does anyone work with Project BudBurst, the environmental group that asks people from all over to record when plants start sprouting in the spring?

*Not to be mistaken with ‘phrenology’, a study based on determining one’s character by analyzing the bumps on one’s head. (I’ve had two concussions. For me, the smart money’s on ‘a touch clumsy’.)

**About 1/2″ in diameter. Don’t go chasing us to compare. –A PSA from the Squirrels Are Faster Than You Commission

wrongplanet.net/postt63638.html

budburst.org/

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