On being an ant

I’ve spent the past week being an ant. Which is to say that I’ve been storing up the food and flavors of summer in the hopes that they will help get me through the dark, rainy winter months.

You remember that fable, don’t you? It is one of Aesop’s. In it a resourceful ant spends the waning days of summer storing up food for the winter while an irresponsible grasshopper fritters the days away having fun and playing his…legs (pfft! the nerve) When winter comes, the ant’s home is warm, cozy, and full of food and friends, while the grasshopper is hungry and cold and has nowhere to go.

You can probably tell from this rich description that I have a very specific vision of the fable in my head. The Grasshopper and the Ants, Walt Disney’s version of the fable, was a beloved cartoon that I watched more times than I can count.

I learned from Wikipedia (where most things are learned nowadays) that the fable has been politicized throughout history and that Disney’s adaptation of it has a – unmistakable, now that I think about it – Roosevelt/New Deal angle to it. I always identified more with the responsible ant than the carefree grasshopper anyway, making me the perfect audience for Walt Disney’s political agenda!

Image from Wikipedia

Annnywho, now that we’ve had that little digression, let me tell you what I’ve been up to lately – besides spending too much time on Wikipedia.

Two weekends ago I took a class at The Pantry from Willi Galloway. It was about growing your own herbs and using them in the kitchen. The class was so inspiring! I immediately went out and bought her book and started planning my garden for next year.

During class we made her recipe for Rosemary Lemon Salt. I’ve been sprinkling it on nearly everything I’ve cooked since. It is so delicious that I took my scissors to my own overgrown rosemary bush (which I learned I should have been pruning several times a year!) and dedicated a large bunch to the same salty-lemony-delicious fate.

And then this past weekend I bought a big bag of humble Roma tomatoes at the farmers market and roasted them in a low oven for several hours ala this recipe from Orangette. The slow roasting concentrates the flavors of these fleshy, oft-overlooked tomatoes into something that can only be described as magic. Summer magic.

Half of those went into the fridge for immediate consumption, and the other half I wrapped individually in plastic and put in the freezer. It’s enough to make me almost wish for the dark, cold, drizzly night in January when I will pull a few of these babies out to toss into a soup or warm pasta dish. Almost.

Last but not least, inspired by this fascinating blog post on using peach pits, I made a peach and basil infused simple syrup. What says summer more than peaches and basil?!

I plan on drizzling this fragrant, light syrup into plain seltzer water or adding it to iced tea any time I need to feel like I’m sitting on the patio with the sun in my face. Here’s to summer…and being an ant!

Basil Peach Vanilla Simple Syrup

Inspired by BraveTart and Willi Galloway
Makes ~3 cups

True to its name, this syrup really couldn’t be easier. The only thing it requires is time. I let mine steep for about 24 hours, but you could have a perfectly yummy syrup in as little as 4-6 hours. It all depends on how strong you want it to be. This same formula could also be used for any number of delicious combinations!

• 2 cups water
• 2 cups sugar
• 1/2 cup basil leaves
• 4-6 peach pits
• 1/2 vanilla bean

In a saucepan, stir together the water and sugar and bring to a boil. Remove from heat.

Crush and tear the basil leaves with your fingers to release their oils, and then stir them into the hot liquid. Add the peach pits and vanilla bean.

Cover and set aside to cool. If you are going to let it steep overnight, put it in the fridge. Once done steeping, strain with a fine mesh sieve.

Store the syrup in a glass jar in the refrigerator.

Rosemary Lemon Salt

From Willi Galloway
Makes 1 cup

This salt is addictive. Willi said it is delicious over popcorn, which I can’t wait to try. I’ve been using it to season almost every dish I’ve made in the past 10 days. It adds a bright kick to pasta, rice, roasted veggies, fish, you name it! As with the syrup above, this formula could be used for any number of herb combinations.

• 3 garlic cloves
• 1/2 cup salt
• 1 1/2 cups rosemary
• 1/2 cup thyme (preferably lemon)
• 1 tsp lemon zest

Place the garlic and 2 tablespoons of the salt into a food processor. Pulse until the garlic is roughly chopped. Add in the rosemary and thyme and continue pulsing until the herbs are finely chopped and the mixture looks like sand.

In a medium-sized bowl, stir together the herb mixture with the remaining salt. Then spread it out onto a sheet pan lined with parchment paper and set aside, loosely covered with a clean cotton towel or paper towel, to dry for a few days to a week (until the herbs are completely dry).

Store in a cool, dry place (like your spice cabinet).

A surfeit of strawberries

We recently found ourselves in possession of a half-flat of strawberries over here. How does one come to possess a half-flat of strawberries you might ask? Welllll, we might have been over-excited to finally see these little red jewels make their blushing debut at the farmers market, and we might have over-bought. I am not afraid of a challenge though, especially not one as delicious as using up six pints of strawberries in as many days.

The first thing I did with the delicate, sweet berries, beside pop of few of them into my mouth, is mix them with some rhubarb, sugar, and cornstarch. I then put that mixture into some cute little ramekins and buried it under a buttery, slightly salty crumb topping. Into the oven they went where they baked into a jammy, stewy, deliciously unctuous crumble.

I halved this Strawberry Rhubarb Crumble recipe from 101cookbooks and split the goods into four personal-sized portions. Top with ice cream or whipped cream, of course.

After dessert, I was satiated enough to start thinking about other, non-dessert ways to use my cache of berries. And my thoughts went straight to breakfast. My go-to breakfast the past few months has been a bowl of Greek yogurt topped with defrosted frozen mixed berries. It’s healthy and just a little sweet. I could (and did), of course, add fresh strawberries to my yogurt, but I wanted something slightly more daring (I lead an exciting life).

First, I turned to this Rhubarb Compote from Cucina Nicolina. I’ve been making this compote on a weekly basis ever since rhubarb showed up in the market a month or two ago. This time, I substituted one stalk of the rhubarb for a half pint of strawberries and made a dreamy Strawberry-Rhubarb Compote that is just perfect swirled into my favorite yogurt.

I wasn’t done with breakfast though. I also tucked some strawberries and my remaining rhubarb snugly into a parchment paper pouch, following this recipe from a recent Bon Appetit, and roasted them in a hot oven. They softened into a lightly sweetened slump that settles over a mound of morning yogurt like a thick, delicious blanket…the only blanket I might like better is the down comforter on my bed that I have to leave to eat said yogurt in the morning.

Almost halfway through the half-flat, I was gaining steam. Another issue of Bon Appetit (I was a couple behind) revealed a quick and easy Strawberry Jam recipe that did not require actual canning – no water bath, no pectin, no fuss. A shredded Granny Smith apple provides the thickening agent and the jam keeps in the fridge for two weeks – far longer than you will manage to keep it around, I assure you.

On the day I found myself with less than two pints left, I looked out my window to find another gray, wet, chilly Seattle day. Juneuary, the seasoned locals apparently call it. But not me. Me and my strawberries were going to make it feel like summer, come hell or high water (or incessant rain). To accomplish this feat of suspended disbelief, I turned to my friend Eve Fox and her recipe for childhood summers spent in the sun: Strawberry Mint Lemonade. I made a double batch.

Less than a pint of strawberries left, and I had saved the best for last. You see, David has a weakness for biscuits. And I have a weakness for whipped cream (I will seriously just eat a bowl of it on its own if someone doesn’t hold me back). Strawberries + biscuits + whipped cream? That equals strawberry shortcake.

Not just any strawberry shortcake though. Weeks previously I had bookmarked the recipe for James Beard’s Strawberry Shortcake that Food52 was generous enough to share with the world. It has a secret ingredient. I always love the idea of a secret ingredient – an unexpected twist that makes a recipe unique and is passed down from generation to generation. My imagination of a secret ingredient and the story behind it rarely is satisfied by reality though. There are tons of recipes that say they have a secret ingredient, but it is something common sense that isn’t actually a secret at all. This is not one of those recipes. This secret ingredient is everything I want a secret ingredient to be – weird, unexpected, from a mom who discovered it years and years ago. And, most importantly, it totally makes a difference in the recipe!

These shortcakes are truly the best I’ve ever had. They are very rich, while at the same time being impossibly light. They have an extremely delicate crumb, while still holding together enough to be the vehicle you need to shovel strawberries and whipped cream into your face. See? The best. You will have to make them yourself to find out what the secret ingredient is…or just click on this link, but I promise you will want to make them yourself.

And thus ended my journey down a road paved with strawberries. I had used them all up. Sad! I think I will buy another half-flat this weekend…

Strawberry Recipes

If you find yourself in a similar position of overabundance this summer – or in the more rational position of having a pint or two of berries – you won’t be disappointed if you give one of these recipes a spin. What’s your favorite strawberry recipe?

• Strawberry Rhubarb Crisp (101 Cookbooks)
• Strawberry-Rhubarb Compote (Cucina Nicolina)
• Vanilla Roasted Rhubarb and Strawberries (Bon Appetit)
• Strawberry Quick Jam (Bon Appetit)
• Strawberry Mint Lemonade (Garden of Eating)
• James Beard’s Strawberry Shortcake (Food 52)

A soup worthy of chestnut season

Until recently I was at most mildly unaware of chestnuts. They are that thing people roast in that one Christmas carol, right? And the grocery store sells them in jars and they look like shriveled little brains. Had you asked me about chestnuts two months ago, that would have been the extent of my knowledge.

Then sometime in September my boyfriend and I were walking our pup around the park near our house and we saw this green spiny thing on the ground. I wondered aloud what it was and stepped on it a couple times. Then we walked on. But noticed that as soon as we had walked away from the thing a woman walking slightly behind us quickly snatched it up and carried it covetously – and carefully – away. I was confused and a little intrigued, but I mostly forgot all about it.

Until one day a couple weeks later when we were back at the park and realized that there were people…lots of people…milling around under a few of the trees looking at the ground. And I thought, ‘you know come to think of it those same people have been there the past few times we have come here. Hmm, how odd.’

So when we happened upon one of the spiny pods during that walk, we picked it up and took it home (it almost didn’t make it – we dropped it no less than 10 times – those suckers are really sharp!) We cracked it open at home with some heavy-duty gloves and discovered a chestnut inside. Ah ha.

Coincidentally, the next weekend at the farmers market we saw a booth selling the chestnuts still in their burrs (as I found out the spiny outer layer is called). And they were $10 per pound (!!) So, we got it then. People were swarming to our park, which has about five huge chestnut trees, to collect the chestnuts because they are apparently worth their weight in gold.

Now when we go to the park we keep an eye out for the fallen burrs. Note: we haven’t joined the crazies who from all appearances LIVE at the park and collect the chestnuts from dawn to dusk (ok, if they are feeding their families with the revenue from these chestnuts I will feel bad calling them crazy, but given the fact that the season is two months long each year, I really don’t think that’s the case). We have, however, managed to put away a respectable stash of chestnuts and I have been using them – sparingly! – on and in many fall dishes. They add a great texture and a subtly sweet yet earthy flavor, especially to soups.

Case in point, as part of my reinvigorated obsession with Around My French Table by Dorie Greenspan I made a celery root and apple soup recently. It was simple and understated, but just delicious.

I topped it with some of our hard-won chestnuts (lightly toasted) and we ate it for dinner with a simple salad and a hunk of fresh baguette from the farmers market. We felt so French. Not to mention smugly victorious about the chestnuts that we managed to snag from the “professional” gatherers in the park AND that we didn’t have to pay $10 a pound for!

Of course, the chestnuts did not come completely without a price, as anyone who has ever shelled fresh chestnuts knows. They are basically a pain in the butt and if I wasn’t getting them for free I wouldn’t bother.

If you happen upon some though, or want to go ahead and buy some fresh at the store to see what all of the fuss is about, let me give you a piece of advice: boil them instead of roasting them in the oven. They taste the same either way and are a lot easier to peel when they’re boiled. I provide some more detailed instructions for doing this below the soup recipe. Happy chestnut season!

Celery-Apple Soup

Adapted from Around My French Table by Dorie Greenspan
Makes 4-6 servings

Dorie calls this recipe ‘Celery-Celery Soup’ because it uses both celery root and celery stalks. For me though, the sweet apple-ness was just as prevalent as the celery, so I am calling my adaptation celery-apple. Note that if you want to follow my lead and top this soup with fresh toasted chestnuts, make sure you boil and peel them before you start working on the soup…as I already lamented, it is a pain and takes a long time. If you want to use jarred chestnuts they would be scrumptious too – just crumble them up and toast them in a pan as the soup simmers.

• 2 tbsp unsalted butter
• 3 celery stalks with leaves, trimmed and chopped
• 2 med-large onions, chopped
• 2 sweet apples (I used Gala), peeled, cored, and diced
• Salt and pepper to taste
• 1 pound celery root (2 fist-sized roots), peeled and cut into cubes
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 thyme sprig
• 4 cups veggie broth
• 2 cups water
• 1/4 cup crème fraîche (optional…but you should really add it ‘cuz it makes things yummier)
• 1/4 cup toasted chestnut pieces (optional)

Melt the butter in a large soup pot over low heat. Then toss in the celery, onions, and apples. Season with salt and pepper, and cook, stirring often, for 5-7 minutes – until the vegetables are soft.

Add the celery root and stir everything together. Then add the herbs and broth, and bring to a boil.

Once it’s boiling, lower the heat and simmer for about 30 minutes, or until the celery root is soft enough to mash with the back of a spoon. At this point, pull out the bay leaf and the thyme twig (all the leaves will have likely come off).

Puree the soup – either in small batches in a food processor or blender, or all at once with an immersion blender.

Once the soup is smooth, stir in the crème fraîche and season with salt and pepper to taste.

Ladle into bowls, and garnish with another dollop of crème fraîche (if you’re feeling decadent) and toasted chestnuts.

Serve immediately, but also save some for leftovers because this soup is even better the second day!

Boiled Chestnuts

Adapted from StartCooking.com

Set a large pot of water on the stove to boil.

Wipe the chestnuts off with a damp towel and set them on a cutting board, flat side down.

With a small, sharp knife cut an X in each chestnut. Make your cuts pretty big – this is the section you are going to use to peel away the skin once their cooked. Do not skip this step! The X allows the steam to escape while they are cooking, and if you don’t do it I am told that the chestnuts could explode, which no one wants. Also, please be safe – cushion the chestnut on a clean dish towel if it makes it easier for you to cut.

Boil the chestnuts for 15-20 minutes. Once you take them out, peel as soon as you are able to safely handle them – they are much easier to peel while they are still warm. I actually left half of them in the water until I had peeled the first half so that the second half would still be warm when I got to them.

When peeling, make sure you are removing both layers of skin: there is a thick dark brown outer layer and a thin light brown under layer. As you peel the chestnuts will likely break apart a little, so make sure to have a bowl nearby to save the precious bits of peeled chestnuts.

Save in a container and keep in the refrigerator until you are ready to use.