what a crock of pickles

sorry, but I relish the pun. oh dear...

I've wanted to make proper lacto-fermented pickles for a couple of years now but hadn't made the leap until this past week. Partially this is because I am lucky enough to have Real Pickles local and available at my Co-op. Also, though it took me a while to realize this, I was held back by the lack of a proper fermenting crock. Now, I know you can make pickles in a jar or even a food-grade plastic bucket but I have this, some might say endearing, need to have projects look a certain way. Cooking should be done with the right apron, oatmeal should be stirred with the right spoon, picnics should be on the right blanket. It's not a need to buy things - truly the things that are right are often hand-made - it's a need to have the tools that have the right soul to do the job, if that makes any sense. It's as if the children will sleep better if they are under a blanket I knit, the water will taste colder if it is poured from a pitcher I bought from a potter at a local fair, and the pickles will ferment best if in the right crock. I think part of what held me back from trying to make them was the lack of the right vessel. Like it or not, silly or wise, I just could not get excited about a plastic bucket of pickles. The ceramic crocks are expensive and heavy so the shipping is beastly. So I continued to buy pickles.

This last week two wonderful things coincided; my pickling cukes started to flourish in the garden and I was gifted my dream pickling crock. This clay pot belong to a friend who Andy and I used to live with. I always loved it and when she asked if I wanted it because she was trying to clear out the house a bit I was so pleased. I did, however, have a moment of remorse while driving home wondering if I was was taking clutter from someone else's house into my own. Would this just be a "pretty" collecting dust or could I make use of it? I put it on the shelf and then went out to survey the garden.

The pieces clicked mentally into place. It was a crock. A big crock. With a wide mouth and a lid. Hello pickles!

I used the method outlined in Wild Fermentation and they came out so well. I weighed a plate down with a boiled rock (which Miryam loved "um...mama...are you cooking a stone?") to keep the pickles under the surface of the brine and in a week we started eating them. Made my own cukes, with local garlic and dill - they are so tasty and I am so proud. Andy had some friends over to play cards and they ate them along with their beer. I knew that pickle making was simple but I was actually quite amazed at such stellar results from something so dead easy. If you haven't given it a try, get some pickling cucumbers while you can and make some pickles.

green tomato relish

This is one of those "making lemonade out of lemmons" sort of situations, though specifically we were "making relish out of green tomatoes".

We are a tomato family. At one point in our courtship Andy and I came to the consensus that winter tomatoes were just. not. worth. it. and we never really bought them after that. Canned tomatoes are lovely and in a pinch I can find some cherry tomatoes worth eating in december but, truly, we eat fresh tomatoes locally and in season. The Connecticut River Valley has wonderfully fertile soil and we grow very yummy vegetables (and apparently top of the line tobacco for cigars, but that's another story). Tomatoes, in season, around here are amazing. There are so many heirloom varieties to choose from and one local CSA farm even has a festival in their honor each August with tastings and canning demonstrations.

Really spectacular tomatoes, however, are not cheap. They start out the season at around $5.50 a pound and slowly go down from there. We eat so many that we try to grow a few plants each year to help offset the tomato fund. In the past, other than the year we had a community garden plot, these have been mild successes grown in containers. This year, with plenty of garden space, we planted an ambitious 23 plants. Visions of capri salads, tomato sandwiches and a pantry with row upon row of sauce-filled jars danced in our heads...

Nope. We got tomato blight (think potato blight. think irish famine. same fungus) just like most of the tomato growers around here. It was so sad ripping out all the plants but we were determined to make the most of it so I looked through my files and found this recipe from Farmgirl Fare I had wanted to try. I made it, it was delicious. We thanked the Gods of Abundance that we would have something tomato in the pantry and we canned 10 half pints of it. There was a bit left over which we enjoyed on some burritos. Highly recommended.

It's still a disappointment to look out the kitchen window and see the big whole in the garden landscape. I am proud, however that we were able to make do and make something we might now have made otherwise but really enjoyed.

feverish

Éamonn had a mild fever this morning and was very clingly so I put him on my back and did house work to keep moving and lull him to sleep. My floors are nicely swept and the laundry is all folded but having a hundred-degree baby sweatily sleeping on your back while you dash around tidying up on a humid August day is hot.

After the nap Miryam joined us for a cool bath and with ice cubes to keep us from completely melting into the woodfloors. It felt like floating in a glass of ice water, thank goodness.

fishing

In my mind I have an unofficial list of skills that I consider necessary to being a productive and capable human being. Some of these (canning, sewing on a button, making butter) I can put a big check mark next to but others still elude me. Being able to catch a fish, clean it and cook it is very clearly on the later.

I have, honestly, only been fishing twice. Both were on one of our pre-children cross country trips; once in Yellowstone and once in Oregon. I got the hang of casting but it was Andy that, on the second outing, caught a rainbow trout, cleaned it and cooked it (barely, yum) on the camp stove. That was the freshest fish I have had, clearly, at about 20 minutes post-catch.

Miryam showed some interest in fishing so on a trip back from Maryland Andy brought her a rod and small tackle box that all fits in a carrying bag for her back. She was very proud and very excited to give it a go.

She picked up casting surprisingly quickly and caught a sunfish on her first trip out with papa, but so far nothing for the frying pan. We found a company that sells biodegradable fishing line and other earth-conscious tackle so we can impact the rivers as little as possible while we try to catch our dinner. We've been reading over the Fish section in the River Cottage cookbook and dreaming of meals to come.

five years

Last friday was my five year wedding anniversary. My mom stayed with the children so Andy and I could go out to dinner. It was fun to dress up and be able to linger over our food and talk about our dreams for the future and just chat without interruptions.

In looking back at the wedding pictures I remember, so clearly, what an amazing day it was. It's hard to write about such a memorable day without sounding cliché. It's hard to write about the love of your life without sounding trite. The wedding was outdoors on the grounds of a local college. We were up on a hill surrounded by trees and mountains.

We wanted the wedding to be an expression of our love, but more importantly, a statement to our community of our commitment to each other. I had often wondered if anything would feel different once we made it official. Would I look at Andy differently once he was my husband as well as my partner? Truly, I knew that the wedding was not so much for us to solidify our commitment to each other, but to proclaim it to our loved ones and to ask them for their blessings.

newly married

We were married on a hill beneath a linen chuppah supported by birch poles to symbolize fertility. The chuppah represents the home and marriage and so we had friends hold it above us to show how the community supports our new family. The marriage was officiated by a dear friend, the wine was blessed by another. Poetry was read and our siblings held the broom for us to hop over. We said our vows and then asked for our community, our friends and family, if we could have their blessings. To hear a hundred and fifty people loudly responding with love that they supported our marriage and wished us well was amazing.

Jim, our friend and Justice of the Peace for a day

After the ceremony we walked down the hill and around the corner to have our Yichud. This was traditionally the time to consumate the marriage but modernly it is a time for seclusion before the reception. Our friend had layed out a blanket with pillow and peacock feathers and wine and fruit. We had a few moments to be together and smile and giggle that we are now married!

the bouquets were blue and purple hydrangeas, the tables had wildflowers

The reception was so much fun - great local music, delicious food and for the toast our friends made us a blueberry mead. My dear friend, Laura, make us the most amazing apricot cheesecake decorated with local, organic, flowers.

some folks were worried about putting a very pregnant woman up on the chairs but they were very careful not to drop me

I could not have asked for a more amazing day. And I could not have asked for a more loving and wonderful husband. I am blessed everyday that we are together. My children are so blessed to have them as their father. I could not want for more.

just a few cherries, thank you

Ah it is cherry time around here. I have to say, however, this colander represents the sum total of all the cherries I am purchasing this year. After last year's cherry-box-panic, where in which I spent two days pitting cherries by hand with a paring knife, this season I decided I would by one pint and eat them fresh that day and that would be that. Maybe I'll get a cherry pitter before next season and my courage will return. If so I should get one early - my friend Hannah asked the only store in driving distance that still had one in stock to hold it for her and they had to turn away 3 or 4 other potential buyers in the hour it took her to pop over. Wow. Apparently the money is in cherry pitters this season - who knew?

fire pit

While we were digging in the garden bed we kept hitting stones. Big stones. Stones that broke a shovel and two forks in the process of putting in our kitchen garden. It seemed only fitting to find some pleasure in them so Andy took to the task of making a fire pit for us.

So far it's just been used twice for after-supper s'mores but I'm looking forward to trying out some kebabs and stick-bread as well.

In the back of this picture you can see a big pile of stones - that isn't even half of what we dug out. We have to repair our stone wall and I'm hoping to us as many of these as we can. After this, I really understand why New England farms are bordered by stones walls. The joke always that rock is what New England grows best and I'll tell you we had a bumper year!