Showing posts with label vacation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vacation. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

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

Sunday, July 15, 2012

(International) Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day


Happy Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day, friends! 



Because we've just returned from two weeks of visiting family in Europe...

Because the mountain of laundry I'm tackling reviles the Swiss Alps in size...

Because, after two weeks, our gardens are an unruly mess...

I've decided to share with you lovely window boxes and small space gardens of Switzerland and Northern Germany, instead of the blooms in my own weed-laden, spotty-leafed gardens. 

(Really, you would think that after all of the care and attention I've given our gardens over the past months that they could just BEHAVE for two weeks. Yeesh.)

So, while you enjoy reading the Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day posts at May Dreams Gardens, I will be in our gardens, drowning in 100% humidity, wishing I was back in the sweater and jeans weather of Switzerland.





Honestly--is there anything more quintessentially Swiss than window boxes filled with geraniums? 












A lakefront home from 1705.






A window box tucked outside the tiny dormer. 





The farm where we stayed sported window boxes along the barn...

..and even blooms by the dog house.
With acreage at a premium, homes in the areas we visited don't include large yards. Instead, blooms and vegetable gardens are tucked into any bit of soil or space available.


Grapes trellised up to the balcony.

 Perennial bed overflowing by the front door.



 My mother-in-law's garden, overflowing with flowers in a narrow two-foot wide strip...


...and her patio, filled with blooms...


...as well as blooms climbing to provide vertical color.
 
Even street signs are embellished with blooms. 

In Ermatingen, Switzerland, the centuries-old lakefront homes often have a small garden across the road, overlooking the lake. Again, the majority of these small spaces are overflowing with color and foliage.

  Some of them are guarded by vicious sentries.

Vegetable gardens border the street, oblivious to the American homeowner associations' "rules" that edible gardens belong in the back yard, tucked away out of sight. 




Beautiful, practical, orderly Swiss vegetable gardens...


What surprised me the most, though, were the roses in Eckernförde and Arnis, Germany. In a patch of soil not bigger than a crusty loaf of German bread, stunning roses grew up walls, around doorways, through trellises. What was even more baffling--alleyways with nominal light were the home of many of these gorgeous blooms.
















The lovely home where we stayed in Northern Germany, with roses climbing every wall and perennials in every corner.





 Traditional thatched roof home in Northern Germany, with roses adorning the walls.

In Arnis, Germany, Peter and I found our future retirement community. The entire town consists of one street, with old, traditional homes. Here, though, many of the homes face the sea--a sailing mecca for my obsessed husband. But the magic of the community is that many of the homes facing the water also include beautiful gardens, with space for my dirt cravings. Plus, a community with wind generators? 


Be still, my green heart!

It's tempting...but I suppose I would finally need to learn German.

Some day.

For now, though, the nasty laundry and ugly, weedy garden await.

Happy Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day!

XO ~

Julie