Summer Celebrations, Southern Style.

It happens every year. As the school days dwindle, I begin dreaming of summer...the fabulous trips we'll take, the places to explore, the lazy afternoons by the pool, reading and playing, the late-night Scrabble marathons, and the enrichment activities that will keep our brains fresh.

And then, suddenly, it's July 24, and I'm panicked. School begins in less than a month.

We haven't even planned our vacation.

Granted, we've been busy. I went to San Francisco with the Garden Bloggers' Fling--and I will write about those fabulous, awe-inspiring gardens soon. The kids attended camps—lots of camps. Zoo camp, sailing camp, Humane Society camp, plus Mikey added a Lego camp to his line-up. In fact, we probably scheduled too many camps, but the kids really wanted to attend these camps. Mikey tried to add a science camp—but I put my foot down. After all, the kids need to swim and play and just be lazy. It's summer, for goodness' sake! Then, Peter's parents arrived from Switzerland on July 9 and left yesterday. Needless to say, it's been crazy.

My vision of summer never matches our reality. I've blamed the torrential, non-stop rain. Or maybe it's the fact that Peter and I aren't very good at just doing nothing...which, in my daydreams, is really what I envision for summer. A chaise lounge by the pool, frosty drink at my side, book in hand, while our sweet children swim and play quietly together.

(Our neighbors will attest that “play quietly” is an oxymoron, at least applied to our kids.)

There is one thing, though, that always lives up to my summertime expectations:

Frogmore Stew.

Now, fear not...no frogs are harmed in the making of this classic southern dish.

Also known as Beaufort Stew, Lowcountry Boil, or Shrimp Boil, this one-pot dish is, for me, the essence of summer.

Fresh from the field sweet corn. Succulent shrimp. New potatoes, just harvested from the garden. And the bonus? Just one pot to wash. Truly, an easy, delicious, finger-licking good dinner best served with an icy beer.

For the history buffs, Frogmore Stew originated in the Frogmore community on St. Helena Island near Beaufort. However, versions of Frogmore Stew exist throughout the coastal regions of the south. Some folks say that the dish is really just a compilation of whatever the fishermen's wives had on hand to throw in the pot. Personally, I like to add a little brightness to the traditional mix of corn, shrimp, and sausage by adding colorful sweet peppers to the pot.

Plus, the peppers soak up the spices and add a little surprise heat to each bite.

The hardest part of Frogmore Stew is peeling and deveining the shrimp. It's a nasty, time-consuming job, but I love shrimp—so it's worth it.

(I remember once when I was about 11 or 12, my dad bought five pounds of fresh shrimp while we vacationed at the beach. We had to peel and devein 5 pounds of shrimp, which took ages. I'm sure, being a preteen, I made the appropriate gagging sounds while I took out the veins. After it was clean, he boiled it for a couple minutes in salted water and chilled it to make shrimp cocktail. For years afterwards, he always shook his head and reminisced about how long it took us to clean that shrimp—and how we all devoured it in less than five minutes.)

Last week, during my in-laws visit, I thought it would be fun to serve them a traditional southern dinner and dessert: Frogmore Stew and Peach Crisp. The Peach Crisp, usually a no-fail staple in my dessert repertoire, didn't crisp—it looked more like peach soup. The Frogmore Stew, however, turned out almost exactly as planned. I posted a photo on my Facebook page, and several people asked for the recipe. Here, for your taste of a southern summer dish from a former Yankee girl, is my variation on Frogmore Stew:

Frogmore Stew

Ingredients:

• 2 pounds fresh shrimp, peeled and deveined. (We're lucky to have a vendor at Hub City Farmers' Market that sells fresh South Carolina shrimp...divine!)
• 3 lbs. Kielbasa, cut into 1-inch slices (most recipes call for a spicier sausage, but my family isn't crazy about heat)
• 4 lbs. red new potatoes, washed, skin on
• 2 medium onions, peeled and sliced into 1/2-inch sections
• 3 large sweet peppers, seeded and cut into 1/4-inch slices (I use red, orange, and yellow to add color)
• 10 ears sweet corn, shucked and cleaned, broken in half (It makes it easier to fit into the pot.)
• 1 3-oz. bag prepared shrimp and crab boil spices (I use Zatarain's Crawfish, Shrimp and Crab Boil in a Bag)

Directions:

1. Fill a large stock pot half-full with water. Add the bag of spices and bring to a boil.
2. Add potatoes, onions, and sausage. Boil for 10 minutes.
3. Next, add the corn and peppers. Boil an additional 8 minutes.
4. Finally, add the shrimp and cook until pink, about three minutes. Don't overcook the shrimp.
5. Drain immediately and serve with sides of butter for the corn and cocktail sauce for the shrimp, if you like. 

(The meal feeds about 8 adults.)

FYI: If you have a ventilation hood on your stove, run it while the pot boils. The spices tend to make my eyes tear, and I inevitably start coughing my head off. Maybe it's just me, but it seems to help to have some ventilation while cooking. Or I'm just a spice wimp.

I have to say, my in-laws looked perplexed when confronted with the big bowl of food on the dinner table. They were good sports, though. My father-in-law commented, in his heavy German accent, that the mix of ingredients was “strange” to them. They had never eaten sweet corn!

Can you imagine? What is summer without sweet corn?

Strange or not, everyone seemed to enjoy Frogmore Stew.

Except our picky children, of course.

But that's OK. Because for a moment, eating my share of two pounds of shrimp and several cobs of sweet corn, it finally felt like summer.

Remember I said that the Frogmore Stew was "almost" as expected? 

After we all finished eating, I suddenly remembered that I forgot to add the potatoes.

In fact, I never got them out of the pantry. Oops.

No one seemed to suffer from lack of potatoes, fortunately.

Now, it's time to book our vacation. We're thinking of taking the kids to Florida, somewhere along the Gulf, to snorkel. While I love South Carolina beaches, the water is too murky for snorkeling. Any good snorkeling beach recommendations?

Only 26 days until school resumes.

Sniff.

I think we'll need another Frogmore Stew before school begins. 

Happy summer!

XOXO ~

Julie

Shared with Wildcrafting Wednesdays and The Backyard Farming Connection.

Celebrate Spring with Strawberry Muffins.

Are you still awake? Oh, good. I know it's late, but since tomorrow is Monday, I really, really think you need to stay up just a little longer to ensure a happy start to your week.

Honestly, it's been such a wet and gloomy weekend here, and tomorrow looks like more of the same. The good news? School's out for summer! (Sing along if you like!) The bad news? The wet weather ushers in the end of strawberry season.

We eagerly await the first strawberry of the season. After all, what announces spring more than a scrumptious, juice-dripping, warm-from-the-sun strawberry? Then, in a blink of an eye—and maybe because we're all so wrapped up with end of school year programs, finals, awards days, playoff games, camp registration, and the assorted noise of every day—the strawberry sign pointing to the farm vanishes.

In a panic, I drove by, only to see “Sold Out” handwritten on a paper taped to the farm stand door. The strawberries in our garden are dwindling, so it shouldn't come as a great surprise that the farm by us would be done, too. But, with the craziness in getting ready for the farm tour, I completely forgot to freeze strawberries to get us through to next spring. 

So, like any good locavore, I sent out an emergency plea to my Facebook friends to find out if strawberries could be found.

Thank goodness for social media, because within moments, I had the names of three farms still selling berries. Within two hours, I returned with two gallons of strawberries in my possession.

Whew. Disaster averted.

Here's the thing: you need to make these muffins immediately, while you can get your hands on fresh strawberries. Although you can use frozen berries, it's just not the same celebratory spring muffin. I'm sure it's good, but the best part of baking strawberry muffins is savoring one fresh-from-the-garden, delicious strawberry that emits the sweet scent of spring while you chop the other berries to add to the mix. The aroma alone will make your mouth water.

I made these muffins for the CFSA Upstate Farm Tour, and they seemed to be a hit. In the next batch, though, I experimented with adding a streusel topping—and I liked it even better. (I should have taken a photo with streusel. Sorry.)

Strawberry Muffins

(Makes 18 muffins)

Ingredients
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
2 tablespoons ground cinnamon
1-1/4 cups milk
2 large eggs, beaten
1/2 pound (2 sticks) unsalted butter, melted
2-1/2 cups diced fresh strawberries
1-1/2 cups sugar

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Line muffin pan with paper liners or grease muffin pan.

Combine flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon in a large bowl, mixing thoroughly. In a separate bowl, combine the milk, eggs, and melted butter. Add the liquid ingredients slowly into the flour mixture, mixing until just combined. (There will be some lumps in the batter.) Add the strawberries and sugar to the batter, stirring gently to combine.

Spoon the batter into the muffin cups to fill the liners ¾ full. Sprinkle streusel topping (see below) on top of the muffins. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into muffin comes out clean and the muffins are lightly browned.

Streusel Topping

1-1/3 cups sugar
1-1/3 cups flour
1-3/4 tablespoons water
3 teaspoons cinnamon
1/2 cup butter, softened

Mix all ingredients until crumbly.

Now, with a warm strawberry muffin in your tummy, the challenge of Monday seems less daunting, doesn't it?

Hope you have a lovely week!

XOXO ~

Julie 

(Shared with The Backyard Farming Connection Blog Hop, From the Farm, and Wildcrafting Wednesday.)

Baking Baguettes.

I love to bake. While daily cooking tends to be a necessary evil for me, baking is a pleasure. It demands full attention--read a recipe, follow directions, et voilá! Deliciousness. No one complains when you bake a chocolate cake. No one makes faces when forced to eat apple pie. And no one ever complains about the smell of fresh bread lingering in the house.

With the constant rush to make something semi-healthy for dinner that everyone will eat, daily cooking is a frantic, hurry-up-and-get-it-done stress.

But baking?

Baking is intentional. Baking is relaxing.

Baking is celebratory.

But baking bread? Now, that makes me nervous.

Peter is our bread baker. He magically crafts scrumptious, braided loaves of “Sunday Bread,” as he calls it, using a recipe hand-written in Swiss German. It's a treat when he makes bread, but it's a treat that doesn't last long. We can easily polish off a loaf of bread in a few hours, especially if Tyler is home.

There's something very romantic about baking bread. I'm sure my grandparents would roll their eyes at my romanticizing bread making, since it was a daily chore for them. Still, the vision of crusty baguettes eaten warm from our oven often occupies my thoughts. Surely, it couldn't be that difficult. 

Right?

So, when my new friends at Farm Chick Chit Chat introduced a bread baking blog party, I decided it was time to embrace the art of baking bread.

The bread of choice for my experiment?

Baguettes, of course.

A year ago, I requested The King Arthur Flour Baker's Companion for a Christmas gift. It's 620 pages of intimidation. For instance, on page 239, you'll find this reassuring bit of baguette wisdom:

“Let this recipe be the starting point on a journey that may last for quite a long time—the 'perfect' baguette is a serious challenge for the home baker.”

Huh.

Excuse me, I'd rather have a fool proof recipe, please—one that's going to work the first time out. Please, Mr. King Arthur, sir?

Anyway, I refused to be intimidated by a bit of flour, water, salt and yeast.

There was no turning back.

First, though, as a bread baking novice, I needed to figure out a few technical details.

Like what the heck is a poolish? Am I the only one who doesn't know what this is?

In case you, too, wondered...it's simply a type of starter that's based on equal parts (by weight) flour and water with a touch of yeast. It's used to enhance the flavor of the baguette. Then, when making the dough, the same amount of water is used with double the amount of flour. According to my guide, it's the “classic French proportions for a baguette.”

Oh lá lá! C'est manifique!

Baguettes

Ingredients

Poolish:

1-1/4 cup (5-1/4 ounces) unbleached all-purpose flour

2/3 cup (5-1/4 ounces) cool water

1/8 teaspoon instant yeast

Dough:

Generous 2-1/2 cups (10-1/2 ounces) unbleached all-purpose flour

1-1/2 teaspoons instant yeast

2 teaspoons salt

2/3 cup (5-1/4 ounces) cool water

Poolish:

1. Combine the flour, water, and yeast in a medium mixing bowl. Mix until just blended.
2. Let the mix rise for 12 hours or so. It should look spongy and aerated. It should be at peak flavor just before it starts to fall, so try to use it before its descent.

Dough:

1. Place the flour, yeast, and salt in a mixing bowl.
2. Add the poolish and water.
3. Mix the dough until it's just cohesive, approximately 30 seconds.
4. Cover and let dough rest for 20 minutes.
5. Knead the dough, using a mixer or your hands, until it's elastic but not perfectly smooth. The surface should still be a bit rough. You aren't kneading it thoroughly, because as it slowly rises, the gluten continues to develop. Too much kneading equals an “unpleasantly stiff” gluten during the long rise. (Seriously. Unpleasantly stiff. It's in the book.)
6. Transfer the dough to a lightly oiled bowl. Cover the bowl and let the dough rise for two hours, folding it over after the first hour. Folding helps strengthen the gluten. To fold the dough, lift it out of the bowl, gently deflate it, fold in half, and place back in the bowl. Folding expels the excess carbon dioxide and redistributes the yeast's food.
7. Divide the dough into three pieces and form them into rough logs. Let them rest for 20 minutes.
   
   
   
   
   
8. Shape the logs into long, thin baguettes.
9. Proof the baguettes, covered, in the folds of a linen or cotton couche, until they are puffy—about 40 minutes. (Yes, I know...I had to look up “proofing” and “couche.” A couche is a rectangular piece of cloth that can cradle multiple rising baguettes in its folds, helping the dough retain its shape. To proof is to cover the dough, allowing it to rise. Clear acrylic proof covers are designed to cover the rising dough, but you can also use a wet towel or plastic wrap, as long as it doesn't stick to the dough and deflate it. I used a wet towel, held aloft by four glasses on either side of my parchment paper “couche.” Creative baking for the bread-tool challenged...)
   
   
   
   
   
10. Preheat the oven and baking stone to 500 degrees. The stone helps create a crispier crust, but you can use a pan.
11. Using a sharp serrated knife, make four diagonal cuts in each loaf, at a 45 degree angle.
12. Spray the loaves with warm water to help replicate a steam oven.
13. Place the loaves on the stone in the oven.
14. Reduce the heat to 475 degrees and bake the loaves for 20 minutes.
15. Remove the loaves from the oven when they are golden brown, and transfer to a wire rack to cool.
16. Allow loaves to cool completely before cutting, otherwise the texture might be gummy, since they will contain moisture that migrates out as they cool.

As I pulled the loaves from the oven, my first thought was--

...those are some seriously homely baguettes.

In fact, I wrote off the baguette experiment as a failure.

But then, I decided that I needed to try a tiny piece.

And you know what?

It. Was. Good.

Ugly, but tasty. The crust? Crispy. The interior was flavorful, but a little too heavy.

For a first try—it wasn't too bad.

When I finally went to bed at 1 a.m., Peter—who I thought was asleep—got out of bed to try a piece, enticed by the smell lingering throughout the house.

And he liked it!

It really did smell amazing.

In fact, everyone seemed to deem my experiment a success. From the three loaves, this is what remains (less than 24 hours later—and Tyler isn't even home from college):

So, it's true. The “perfect” baguette eluded me this time, but I baked some pretty darn good bread.

I will master the Art of French Baking.

I will.

Happy baking to you!

XO ~

Julie

Chicks Go Christmas Shopping.

Why did the chicken cross the road? Why, to find some bargains, of course! Wouldn't you?

There's nothing more humbling than a Saturday morning knock on the door while you're caught lazing around in your PJs. Actually, it's most humbling when it's your next-door neighbor at the door, announcing that your chickens crashed her yard sale.

What can I say? I'm sure the girls just wanted a jump on their holiday shopping. 

After all, they need the perfect gift for Chicken Mama.

(Full disclosure: I hid, forcing Peter to answer the door. Yes, I'm that cowardly.)

Fortunately, our neighbor was gracious about the chicken invasion. Still, this wasn't the first time the girls flew the coop. In fact, our three little additions—Saltine, Sugar, and Spice—escape our yard frequently. Apparently, the dozen books Kiki read failed to mention that Golden Campines are flighty.

Very, very flighty. In fact, they would win gold medals for flying in the Chicken Olympics.

(In her defense, Saltine is a Barred Plymouth Rock, and she's not quite as flighty as the Campines. She just follows the lead of the two troublemakers.)

Flighty is both good and bad. Obviously, we don't want the girls bothering the neighbors. We allow them to free range in the forest—with supervision. When we can't supervise, they forage in fenced areas--around the pool or in their yard. However, while the older girls politely remain within our boundaries, the little delinquents take to heart “the grass is always greener” philosophy, escaping the fence.

Of course, when they escape the fence, not only do they potentially annoy the neighbors, but they also embark on suicide missions.

On one side of our backyard, where the naughty girls like to forage, our sweet dogs would happily use them as chew toys. So, when we let the girls forage by the pool, we keep the dogs inside. Outside the fence, the girls become potential snacks for roaming neighborhood dogs.

It's quite an adventure for a suburban dog. When another neighbor's dog rejoiced over his breakout, he hightailed it to our forest. After all, it was doggie paradise--three fluffy, yummy smelling treats to chase.

Panic.

While we tried to catch the pup, our flighty girls used their wings wisely—Sugar escaped to the roof of our house, Saltine flew back over the fence.

We couldn't find Spice.

We looked everywhere—the forest, neighbors' yards, the coop, the greenhouses.

No Spice.

After 15 minutes, I expected the worst. The dog still ran through the neighborhood, and I feared that Spice became his prize.

I stopped to catch my breath and looked up.

There, sitting on a tree branch peering down at me, perched Spice.

Whew.

(Did I mention—all of this fun took place in my pajamas? I did manage to throw on running shoes. Now, there's a fashion statement. Hmmm...there seems to be a theme here. Perhaps I need to stop lazing around in my PJs, huh?)

After the near death experience—both for the birds, as well as my near heart attack—we decided it was time to convince Chicken Mama to let us clip her girls' wings.

It didn't take much convincing.

After all, she decided she'd rather keep her girls safe than win more blue ribbons at the county fair. 

I'm very proud of our Chicken Mama.

That afternoon, we gathered the troublesome trio in the back garden to perform the deed.

Actually, I did nothing but take photos. I'm a wimp.

It's really a very easy process, and it doesn't hurt the bird. Basically, you clip approximately 10 of the primary flight feathers on one wing. By clipping feathers on only one wing, the chicken's balance is disturbed, prohibiting flight. Experts recommend waiting until the chicken reaches maturity, because wing flapping and practice flights develop strength in young chicks.

When selecting which feathers to snip, make certain you don't select any new growth feathers that contain blood in the shaft. (The shaft will have a pink tint if it contains blood.) Clipping a wing with blood in the shaft is painful for the bird and causes bleeding. In darker colored birds, you may need to hold the wing to a light to check the shaft. If you do accidentally cause bleeding, dip the tip of the feather in cornstarch and pinch it to stop the bleeding. Also, keep the bird separate from the flock until the wing heals. Blood or injuries encourages pecking.

Wing clipping is a two person task. Kiki held the girls to calm them. Because you need to use sharp scissors, you don't want to try this alone. You don't want to hurt yourself or the bird.

Spread one wing, holding it steadily. Peter cut approximately 10 of the longer primary flight feathers.

And that was it. Simple. Safe. And hopefully, the birds are now secured within the yard.

Then, Kiki, our future veterinarian, wanted to try it.

Easy.

Honestly, how is this girl my daughter? She amazes me.

Just in case you like diagrams, there's a good one here:

An important note: 

Repeat wing clipping after your chicken molts. Once the new feathers grow in, those naughty girls will head for the skies again.

So, while Chicken Mama is now retired from the world of chicken shows, we're all resting a bit easier about our troublesome trio.

So far, they haven't flown the coop.

But then again, there haven't been any yard sales lately.

Wish us luck!

XO ~

Julie

Holy Shiitakes! How to Feast on Fungi for Months.

Well. The shiitake experiment proved a success.

Actually, it was too successful.

Is that possible?

Our refrigerator overflowed with shiitakes. Bags and bags of shiitakes.

With only two of us that eat mushrooms, I feared that my harvest would soon end up in the compost. Peter and I just can't eat three, gallon-sized bags filled with mushrooms that quickly. But after awaiting these babies for more than a year, I refused to trash my prize.

It was time to take action.

Dehydrating mushrooms is ridiculously easy. If you have a dehydrator, it's even easier—because you can plug it in outside and avoid the stench that will permeate your house. I thought the smell of hot peppers dehydrating in the oven was bad...it was nothing compared to shiitakes.

With dried shiitakes selling for more than $18/lb., though, the odor is worth it.

How to Dry Shiitakes:

1. If you have a dehydrating setting on your oven, use it. Otherwise, preheat oven to the lowest setting possible.
2. Rinse mushrooms under cool water, making sure to clean between the gills where insects might lurk. Fortunately, our mushrooms were clean. However, if you find gnats or other insects, you can soak the mushrooms in a high saline solution to kill any critters, then rinse again. Pat dry.
3. Remove stems from the shiitakes. The stems are fibrous and tough. You can reserve them to add flavor in soups, if you like—but you really don't want to eat them.
   
   
   
4. Slice mushrooms thinly to speed drying. You can also dry them whole, but expect the process to take much longer for complete drying.
   
   
   
5. Spread sliced mushrooms into a single layer on a cookie sheet. If you are using whole mushrooms, place the mushroom gill-side up.
6. Place mushrooms in oven. If you have a convection oven, you can leave the door closed. Otherwise, crack open the door a bit for air circulation.
7. Using the dehydrating setting, it took approximately 12 hours for the mushrooms to dry completely. Check your mushrooms hourly to ensure that they are drying properly and not burning.
8. When completely dry, the mushrooms will be tough and the gills hard, not spongy. Allow to cool completely before storing.

You can store the dried mushrooms for six months in a dark, cool place, or you can freeze the dried mushrooms for a year. I chose to fill canning jars that I stored in our pantry.

Drying shiitakes adds convenience to recipes—you'll always have mushrooms on hand when a risotto craving hits. To rehydrate the mushrooms, soak the dried shiitakes in boiling water for 20 minutes or warm water for 30 minutes. Many people use the resulting liquid as a healthy tea. Dehydrated shiitakes can also be added directly to the base when making soup.

While we focus on the culinary benefits of shiitakes, the Ming Dynasty considered them to be the “elixir of life,” reserved as royal food. Shiitakes were also used medicinally to cure various ailments, including colds, flu, headaches, measles, and nutritional deficiencies, among other illnesses.

Today, many people believe that shiitakes strengthen the immune system, provide a high dose of antioxidants, lower cholesterol and high blood pressure, as well as fight cancer, heart disease, AIDS, herpes, and other viral infections. Dried, powdered shiitakes are often used as supplements—but always consult a health practitioner before using.

Personally, I'm hoping to derive the health benefits of shiitakes by eat risotto...lots and lots of shiitake risotto.

Mmmmm...

In case you've been playing along and have your own harvest of shiitakes—or any mushrooms, for that matter, here's my favorite recipe for risotto.

Risotto ai Funghi

Ingredients:
6 cups organic chicken broth, divided
3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
2 pounds shiitake mushrooms, fresh or dried (rehydrate prior to use)
2 shallots, diced
1-1/2 cups Arborio rice
¾ cups dry white wine
freshly ground pepper to taste
sea salt to taste
3 tablespoons chopped chives
4 tablespoons butter
½ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
Note: Make sure to have all ingredients ready before you start. You need to stir continuously to avoid burning, so you don't want to hunt down ingredients in the midst of cooking.

1. Warm the broth over medium-low heat in a saucepan.
   
2. In a large saucepan over medium-high heat, warm 2 tablespoons olive oil. Add the mushrooms (fresh or rehydrated) and cook until soft, approximately 3 minutes. Remove mushrooms and liquid, and set aside in bowl.
   
3. Warm 1 tablespoon olive oil in a skillet, and add the shallots. Cook 1 minute, stirring frequently. Add rice, stirring to coat it with the olive oil. When the rice is golden in color (about 2 minutes), add wine. Stir continuously until wine is absorbed. And ½ cup broth to the rice, stirring until broth is absorbed. Continue adding ½ cup broth at a time, stirring continuously, until liquid is absorbed and rice is al dente, approximately 15 to 20 minutes.
   
4. Remove skillet from heat. Add mushrooms with liquid, butter, chives, and Parmesan, stirring well. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
   
5. Serve alone or as a side dish. Makes approximately 6 servings.
   

Enjoy!


XO ~


Julie