Cooking Techniques and Kitchen Gadgets

I can’t remember a time when I didn’t have fresh garlic in my kitchen ready to smash, mince, chop or slice to use for culinary enjoyment. I’ve got cookbooks devoted to garlic and file folders bulging with recipes that include several bold, pungent cloves of the stinking rose.

When I started buying garlic from local growers at the farmers market several years ago, I realized how much better it tasted than the bulbs I had been bringing home from the grocery store. Four or five years ago I attended the Minnesota Garlic Festival for the first time. That’s when I got the bug to try growing some of my own. It took me a few years to finally take the first step — getting some garlic to plant.

Early last Fall, just in time for garlic planting in northern Minnesota, a box of beautiful heads of garlic arrived at my door. Travel, busy work days and wet weather prevented the small garden plot (really a bed of weeds) that I had selected for my garlic crop from getting tilled and enriched with new soil.

Sometimes it’s the tiny little things in life that bring the most joy.

I always get so excited when my trees start waking up from months of dormancy. Even though our orange tree (known forever as "Granny’s
 orange tree") never really loses its deep green leaves, it has its own way of letting you know that it’s kicking into high gear.  Every year
 around this time buds begin to appear, and within a day or two these creamy, supple pods begin to open up into beautiful little flowers. And
 even if you were inclined to bury your head in the sand and ignore the
 seasonal shift, orange trees let you know their intentions by perfuming 
the entire yard with a heady, intoxicating fragrance of orange 
blossoms.

It’s literally the most soothing and luxurious smell I can
 think of and far from the tart, acidy flavor of the fruit (if I’m 
comparing smells and tastes, mind you). It’s much closer to honeysuckle 
than orange. And if the scent drives me crazy in the best of ways, I
 can only wonder what it does to bees!

It feels like Week 19 of the heat wave. Seriously, ridiculous. It’s too hot to stay in and cook. Baking seems ludicrous. Even making a pot of chili in the afternoon (to serve later with grilled hot dogs or hamburgers) feels like too much – which reminded me of the Cuisinart. It sits on the counter every day and we rarely use it. Why did I forget about the Cuisinart?

I love the Cuisinart. I particularly love the slicer. And having remembered it, I’m now on a cooking and no-cooking cooking binge, if you know what I mean. Last night I threw little red potatoes into the Cuisinart (using the slicer blade), poured them into a porcelain casserole dish, drizzled them (understatement) with grape seed oil, salt, pepper, and a little bit of fresh rosemary.

So folks are embracing “Meatless Mondays” – from L.A. Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa (maybe he’s also embracing meatless policies) to celebrity chef Mario Battali (who might consider some meal-less mondays – I know, I know, who am I to talk), but what about “Meatless Mostdays?” That’s what’s getting embraced around my house,

Chalk it up to my trying to “live off our land” or to me being too tired to go to the market, we’ve been eating eggs, not meat, for dinner. To make the eggs-seem-special-for-dinner, I have been serving them poached. Poached eggs are fancier than fried eggs – the delicate cooking results in tender whites and creamy, pudding-like yolks. I’ve served poached eggs with salad, croutons and bacon, poached eggs on root vegetable hash, poached eggs and Serrano jamon on toast with grilled green onion, arugula and Romesco sauce, poached eggs on whole wheat pasta with whole wheat bread crumbs and Swiss chard. (Yes, I know – there is bacon and Spanish ham in these dishes--so maybe Mostly Meatless Mostdays? – Is that better?)