Past Their Prime

Around three o'clock this afternoon I looked out the window and a dreary rain-shower had upgraded to a damp snowfall.  Of course, this is only an upgrade for those who have been disappointed by the muddy, mild weather we've had so far this winter.  I normally behave like a shut-in come January, but I think the weather has me out of my norm.  I'm tackling my new year's goals with gusto, brainstorming new ideas for this website, gearing up to attend local blogging events, and even feeling confident at my day job. 

I guess winter has finally settled in but I don't plan on slowing down.  I've even been thinking about spring gardening again.  One of the perks of living way out here in the suburbs is that we have so much space for things to grow.  Some things like leafy greens can be started as soon as April--that's only a few months away!

Our potted herb garden was extremely rewarding this year.  Whenever I needed a handful of chives to add to a sauce or to finish a salad, I walked out to the patio with the kitchen shears.   That incredibly easy oregano pesto?  Trimmed from our backyard plant.  There was also parsley for adding to homemade stock, dill for homemade pickles, and, my favorite, thyme bouquets stuffed into whole roast chicken. 

Except for the rosemary, though its time will soon be over too, the rest of the herbs are past their prime.  Some will come back next year and some won't.  Come February, when the ground is frozen and the air visibly holds my breath, I will chop down the thick stems of what's left to allow for new growth this spring.  I have a feeling that the time will fly by between now and then, don't you?

Did you grow anything wonderful this year?  Any gardening resolutions or goals for 2012?

Monday Links: Cold Nights, Hot Drinks

The weather held out for our New Year's Eve trip to southeastern Ohio, but the temperature plummeted to 20 degrees on New Year's Day.  Mentally, I was ready for the cold, but physically I was chilled to the core.  Instead of going into a hibernation this month, I am focusing on ways to warm up.

My solution: steamy beverages.  In this week's edition of Monday Links, I've rounded up some hot drinks that I've been eyeing around the web. 

Molly and Matthew debate hot chocolate vs. hot cocoa as well as share some recipes for their favorite versions on Episode 54 of their Spilled Milk Podcast. 

I'm sure it's not a healthy prescription for stress, but a Hot Toddy sounds like the perfect way to recover from a tough day at the office. 

If you are like me and have leftover fresh pumpkin puree from the holidays, this Pumpkin Spice Latte recipe from Our Share of the Harvest is a great way to use it up.  (And I don't think eating pumpkin should be limited to November, do you?)

Melissa loves Chai Teas from Starbucks (and so do I) so I think it's high time we learned to make our own.  Thanks Tasty Kitchen for these step-by-step instructions on making a chai tea concentrate. 

Alright, I know this isn't quite fitting with my theme, but wouldn't it be cute to drink out of these mustache mugs?  It makes me giggle just thinking about it.  Mustaches never go out of style. 

Do you have any hot drink suggestions to add to my list?  Share in the comments.

It Comes Together Organically

Did I imagine that it was 70 degrees and partly sunny a few days ago?  The chilly gray skies have returned and I'm starting to think I dreamed the whole thing.  I'm feeling a bit deceived by the weather patterns.  Spring and I are on a cycle of spending some time together and then suddenly we are estranged.  I'd like it if Mother Nature could make up her mind about letting the warm weather stick around for good.  My green thumb would appreciate it, too. 

I can't help but feel a little bit like I am backsliding into a winter coma every time the temperatures slip.  I instantly start to refer to my mental winter-survival-guide, "Make a pot of soup!  Build a fire in the woodburning stove!"  Tim and I divide and conquer, sticking with our strengths; he loves to make a fire and I love to cook soup.

We are running a little light on homemade chicken stock so I opted to use the vegetable stock we made earlier this year.  I figure if we are starting there I should just make a vegetable soup.  As I gathered vegetables from counter-top baskets and the bottom drawer of our refrigerator, I really didn't have a starch like a potato to give some bulk to the soup.  After a quick peek in our cabinets, we had less than a quarter box of elbow macaroni so I decided to use pasta as my starch.  That's the thing about soup--it comes together organically that way.   

So I chopped the vegetables somewhat uniformly and into the pot went a tablespoon or two of olive oil, a yellow onion, a few medium carrots, two stalks of celery, several small parsnips, and some garlic.  I stirred occasionally, allowing the vegetables to sizzle over medium heat until they developed some color.  Then I added a heaping spoonful of tomato paste to add that essential umami flavor, balancing the sweet of the carrots and parsnips with its savory richness. (If you don't have tomato paste, a bit of full-bodied red wine will add the same depth.)

Then I added 3 containers of vegetable stock (about 6 cups) and a cup of water to the pot, stirring to combine and lift any bits off the bottom.  Two bay leaves, a few sprigs of fresh thyme and some salt & pepper were all the soup needed for that last bit of flavor development.  I turned up the heat to medium-high to bring it to a boil, and then reduced it to medium-low to simmer. 

After ten or so minutes, I remembered that I wanted to add macaroni, so I tossed in two handfuls and set the timer to check it again in ten more minutes.  When the timer went off, the macaroni was just al-dente and the vegetables were all cooked through without being mushy.

 

After I served myself a bowl, I decided the soup needed some color.  I suggested Tim add a handful of frozen peas to the pot and before he ate any.  The addition of the peas (not pictured here) gave the mostly reddish colored soup a pop of color and a nice snap in texture when eaten.  It turns out between the parsnips and the macaroni noodles, I didn't miss the potatoes at all.  

There's really not much of a recipe to this so I won't pretend to give you one, but if you hesitate in trusting yourself to make soup without a recipe I suggest throwing caution to the wind.  Simple soup like this tends to pull itself together without much help from the cook. 

On a completely unrelated note, I've been compiling a list of food-related podcasts that I have been listening to while I travel for work so keep an eye out for those soon!

First Sighting

Today it is 40 degrees outside.  I stood on our back patio with bare feet, looking out at the brown grass.  Just a few days ago this was covered in snow, and I had finally accepted that I must burrow beneath several blankets and wear thick wool socks just to feel warm enough.  Now this welcome break in the cold weather has jolted me back to life. 

Tim and I have been living a world of Netflix, Jet's pizza delivery, and crackling fires in our wood-burning stove.  Sure, I cook occasionally, but it's been foods like Potato Soup the way my mom used to make it with bits of ham for extra flavor or creamy Chicken Pot Pie made with a short cut using puff pastry as the crust.  I don't use a recipe for these dishes but cook by taste and memory.  There has been little recipe research, menu planning, or keeping a dining schedule, and I think it's been nice--for Tim and for me.  He has been getting greasy, cheesy, deep-dish pizza (with mushrooms on half for him) nearly every week, and I have had the chance to spend my evenings enjoying his company.  Win-win. 

And now today with the sun shining and snow receded, I finally inspected our long neglected flour pots; the former homes of fresh herbs so fragrant you could just barely brush past them and smell their perfume.  Much to my surprise, in one of the pots were green leaves.  Our parsley, the same parsley that had refused to grow last summer in time for us to use any of it, was suddenly vibrantly green and firmly rooted in the potting soil. 

It seems that parsley has decided to come out of it's slumber at the same time I have. 

I have lots to tell you about.  I hope you'll visit again soon.