Turning Lemons into Lemon Rosemary Shortbread Cookies.

Each year, during the Carolina Farm Stewardship's Annual Upstate Farm Tour, the kids set up a lemonade stand and sell sweets made from ingredients grown in our garden. Typically, I bake lavender shortbread cookies—but this year, the lavender wasn't blooming in time for the tour. Instead, I harvested some rosemary from the front garden, minced it until it was nearly powder—honestly, I just don't like the texture of chunks of rosemary—and baked lemon rosemary cookies.

A friend gave me the recipe, which I modified a bit—I'm also not a fan of grated lemon peel. I just dislike the texture of it, so I omitted the lemon peel.

I'm crossing my fingers that next year we'll have our own lemons to use to flavor the cookies, too.

Lemon Rosemary Shortbread Cookies.

Ingredients

1 cup butter, softened

1/2 cup sugar

3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

2 cups all-purpose flour

4 teaspoons fresh rosemary, minced well

1/4 teaspoon salt

Directions:

In a large mixing bowl, cream butter and sugar until fluffy. Add lemon juice and vanilla, mixing well.

In a separate bowl, combine the flour, rosemary and salt. Slowly add dry ingredients to the creamed mixture. Mix thoroughly.

Divide dough and roll into two, approximately 12-inch logs. Wrap each roll in plastic wrap and place in the freezer for about 30 minutes to chill. Remove from freezer and cut logs into 1/4-inch slices. Place sliced dough on ungreased baking sheets, with cookies spaced about 2 inches apart. Bake at 350° for 8-10 minutes, until edges turn golden brown. Cool for 2 minutes before removing from pans. 

Note: these cookies, while delicious, are fragile and tend to crumble or crack, so take your time! It's worth it, I promise. Makes approximately 8 dozen cookies.

Stay tuned...tomorrow I'll post the recipe for the strawberry muffins—perfect for a weekend breakfast!

Happy weekend!

XOXO ~

Julie

(Shared with From the Farm, The Backyard Farming Connection, Wildcrafting Wednesday, and Little House in the Suburbs blog hops.)

Herbs de Provence? Oui, merci!

Do you ever have one of those days? You know, the day where nothing happens according to your plan?

Today is definitely that day.

My plan for the morning involved sharing with you a recipe for Herbs de Provence.

It's heavenly. It's romantic. I mean, honestly—doesn't just saying “Herbs de Provence” transport you to a lavender field in—well, Provence?

Plus, it tastes delicious.

And I'm still going to share it with you.

But here's the thing: this morning, as I went to the garden to harvest the herbs I needed, I encountered a small problem.

Savory is MIA.

Now, I know our gardens are a bit...unruly. OK, they're jungle-like at the moment. The lemongrass towers over the thyme. The basil battles the rosemary for space. The sage is strangled by the oregano. Fighting through the herbs and weeds—and not finding the savory--I decided that it must be hidden. I moved vines, pulled weeds, looked under leaves.

Nothing.

I searched all four herb gardens...no savory. Either some critter decided to have a savory snack—or the competition in the garden got too fierce for its survival.

No problem. I decided to head over to a nearby nursery.

No savory.

OK, I went to a not-so-nearby nursery.

No savory.

I considered driving to a much-further-away nursery...but the sudden torrential downpour inspired me to stop by the grocery store instead.

No savory. I hoped for a fresh packet—but they didn't even have dried savory.

I came home, ate a handful of Lucky Charms (I know, it's disgusting), and decided this:

My Herbs de Provence will not include savory. But—the recipe I'm giving you will.

Honestly, if savory is going to be that difficult—well, then I'm going to boycott it. (However, I'm going to start some more from seed this afternoon.)

While I often preserve produce, I tend to neglect harvesting herbs to store. I'm spoiled, I suppose—I cut herbs as I need them for meals. Still, preparing a mix of some of our favorite herbs saves time, plus the flavor evolves as it ages.

Although Herbs de Provence sounds pretentious, it's really a simple blend of dried herbs typical to the Provence region of France. The blend can be used to flavor grilled foods, such as fish and meat, or added to vegetables and stews. You can also infuse oil with Herbs de Provence.

My herbs—minus the savory—are drying. I typically use fresh herbs when cooking, but the dried herbs will store well for up to six months.

Herbs de Provence

Adapted from The Complete Illustrated Book of Herbs

Ingredients

4 tablespoons dried rosemary leaves

3 tablespoons dried sweet marjoram leaves

2 tablespoons dried thyme leaves

3 tablespoons dried savory (if you can find it!)

2 tablespoons dried lavender flowers

1 teaspoon dried sage leaves

Crush the herbs using a mortar and pestle or large knife until very fine. Combine the herbs and place in an airtight jar. Store in a cool, dark location.

The best part of creating Herbs de Provence? Your hands smell divine for the rest of the day!

Enjoy!

XO ~

Julie (who is now going to plant more savory seeds)

Conquering Mulch Mountain...Who Really Won?

I love mulch.

I'm one of those odd people who gets ridiculously excited about the prospect of freshly spread mulch.

I love ordering it. “Double ground hardwood, please”--even though, after all of these years of using the same local company—I still can't understand the super nice owner's extreme southern drawl.

Sometimes, I wonder exactly what I've agreed to after talking with him.

The kids love mulch. As soon as the truck dumps the mulch, the kids fly outside to Mulch Mountain—where they climb, slide, dig, and generally wreck havoc on the mulch and each other.

Our oldest son is not quite as enthusiastic. He was summoned home from college this weekend to help spread mulch. Well, actually, he's the fill-the-wheelbarrow-and-dump guy.

Don't feel too sorry for him. He was well-fed. And he earned much praise, because he really makes the process so much easier.

I love the aesthetics of mulch. So clean, so fresh. I love the smell of mulch, although my 6-year-old said it smelled like something died outside. More importantly, I love the organic benefits of mulch. Water retention. Weed control. Increased soil health as the mulch decomposes.

The only glitch with mulching is...perennials. Everywhere. This is the problem if you wait too late to spread mulch. You can kiss the rake goodbye.

It's hand-mulching time.

Yes, for two straight days, I filled tubs with mulch and carefully, carefully, dressed the perennials by hand.

Two days. From early morning until last light—which is now about 8 p.m.—I knelt, squatted, pliéd, and bent in awkward positions to mulch my babies.

And I hurt.

A lot.

But it was worth it.

Look! Look! See what I did! (Please pretend you don't see the dandelion in the corner. Thank you.)

Even Sammy enjoys the new mulch.

Now, I know I'm not the only gardener in the throws of heavy lifting, bending, and stretching in the efforts to ready the garden for the season ahead. I just hope you are more fit and less achy than I am. Perhaps you even stretch and such before you begin gardening each day.

However, in case you, too, are feeling less than spry after your gardening work, I have a treat for you.

It will make you happy.

It's a bath.

I rarely take a bath. The idea of a bath is delicious. Soaking, peacefully, in a steamy tub sounds like bliss.

However, I'm a mom.

The minute I contemplate a bath, everyone needs something.

Right. Now.

“MOOOOM!”

You probably are too familiar with this scenario. It just isn't worth it.

Most of the time.

As sore as I am, though, a bath is a medical necessity.

So, my friends, I'm sharing with you a lovely recipe for a bath, borrowed from Amy Stewart's charming book, From the Ground Up: The Story of a First Garden. Have you read her memoir? If not, I highly recommend you take it with you to the tub, read about her adventures as a first-time gardener, and just soak. Both your body and your spirit will be nicely rejuvenated after your bath, and you'll be ready for another day in the garden.

Gardener's Bath

1 cup oatmeal

¼ cup baking soda

¼ cup powdered whole-milk

Herbs (the recipe calls for dried herbs, but I've cut fresh lavender, rosemary, and lemon balm to add to the bath. Mint, comfrey, rose petals, and chamomile are also options.)

Blend ingredients together in a food processor or blender until you have a fine powder. The oats ease itchy skin, and the fat in whole-milk powder moisturizes, while the lactic acid gently exfoliates. Baking soda helps soften the skin and also relieves itch.

In her book, Amy sprinkles the blend directly in the bath. Instead, you could also minimize the post-bath clean-up by putting the blend in a fine mesh bag, such as a lingerie laundry bag, and letting it soak in the tub under the faucet to release the aroma.

Relax and enjoy!

XO ~

Julie