You see that up there? And then do you see the other thing? I can’t, I just can’t. After last year, I just dare not speak of it.

And then there’s that other plant. You see that? You see all those?  Ugh, I can’t. I just can’t. I can’t talk about it.  I just sit and fret and chew on my nails and check the weather obsessively.  Ugggggh.  I can’t stand imagining another year of failure.

So! Let’s concentrate on the things I can talk about.  Like garlic, turnips and cherries.

I have harvested all our garlic now and only two heads didn’t cure correctly.  So we ate them and oooooh maaaaaaan, there’s just something so much more satisfying about eating garlic you grew yourself.  It’s going to be tough to not eat it all–to not rub the pungent cloves over grilled bread and minced finely into salad dressing and added at the end of bright summery pastas for an extra kick of garlicky heat–so that there are cloves to plant again in a few months.

And would you look at this beautiful turnip (how many times have you ever heard that in your life?)

We didn’t eat that one, it was too big, but isn’t it gorgeous? It’s a Rapa di Milano Coletto Viola a turnip I decided to grow after reading about it in this article from the Times (I figured if Michele has the good taste to adore Blue Coco and Rosa Bianca, then I could probably trust her. Turns out she’s totally trustworthy).  On July 4th we ate some of the big turnip’s brethren in a very non-traditional version of Neeps & Tatties (apropos of almost nothing, read this article, it’s very funny).  While Isaac was grilling one of Georgia‘s beautiful chickens, a few chopped up turnips and a few quartered potatoes wrapped up in little packets of foil cooked on the coals.  When they were all soft and luscious Isaac mashed them together with a bunch of herbs and a little olive oil. They were unbelievably good. Pungent, yet soft and sweet. Very good. Very, very good.

Also, we went cherry picking. Sour cherry picking. Over at Love Apple Farm, which has a 10 pound minimum.

We got up early and picked and picked and picked.  The trees were pretty worked over, so we worked hard to make 10 pounds and just as we were finishing up a family with lots of little kids showed up to cherry pick too. Whoops! Boy did those kids complain “Daaaaaadddddddy!!! Why are there no cherrrrries?!?!” Sorry kid, it’s a tough lesson to learn, but the early bird gets the sour cherry.

What did I do with 10 pounds of sour cherries? I made jam, er, uhm, preserves of course!  It took a long time and two recipes (one and two) to turn 10 pounds (16 cups!) of cherries into 11 1/2 jars (132 ozs!) of Sour Cherry Jam (I mean Preserves!), but it was so worth it; especially when we used the little remainder jar to make Sour Cherry Shortcake with a drizzle of Gran Gala and some vanilla-scented Marscapone.

And while these things are all well and good, summer really isn’t summer, and gardening really isn’t gardening without one thing.  But I dare not mention it.

I would ask you to mention the thing you dare not mention, but that’s just inviting disaster in for tea. So, instead, let’s talk about the cheery stuff: What have been your summer’s gardening triumphs?

First up: Eggplant Soup. Yes. Eggplant. Soup. If you thought squash soup was weird, you’re going to think eggplant soup is bonkers. But you’ll be wrong.  It is delicious.  I first tried it at Destino in Chatham, and then Mexican Radio in Hudson had a version of it, and then it was a special at Destino again.  And though it was different at the two Mexican restaurants, it was delicious at both.  It is silky and yummy and very, very easy to make at home.  Grill or roast a few eggplants, caramelize some onions, add some broth, puree and add creme fraiche, crema or heavy cream to your taste and garnish with a little salsa fresca and a squirt of lime.  Yum!

Next: Sifting. We’ve been doing a lot of this.  First I had to sift the compost pile.  Twice.  And then there was the tomato garden, which we’ve been sifting for weeks now. But it’s almost done, to the point where I was able to make some beds and plant some tomatoes (though I’m not sure they’re going to make it, they were all kind of weenie, and it has been hot Upstate this week). And then there was flour.  I made pancakes from scratch for the first time ever a few weekends ago, after an aerobic spate of dirt sifting.  I don’t know if I was just very hungry ofrif these really are the best pancakes ever, but I’m going with the latter.  Sadly, I left the recipe Upstate (it’s, naturally, from Amy Bess Miller’s The Best of Shaker Cooking) so if anyone has a copy laying around, email me the recipe for Apple Pancakes and I’ll post it here. *

In the Middle: Chicken. Kinderhook Farm has quickly become our favorite meat purveyor upstate.  Their steaks are the best, hands down.  I recently got an email from Georgia announcing that they were taking reservations for their pasture-raised Label Rouge Freedom Ranger chickens, ready sometime June. I jumped at the chance. I’ve never seen happier chickens or had more beautiful eggs than from Kinderhook Farms, so I’ve got to figure their chicken will be amazing, too. And what will I be doing with it?  Roasting it Thomas Keller style. If you haven’t tried this technique, you must. And if you can catch the “Technique” episode of No Reservations, TK offers a great tip that isn’t in any of the online recipes. He demonstrates how to remove the bird’s wishbone before roasting so that you can serve two complete halves of chicken.  Truly, this is a not-to-be-missed recipe, and Kinderhook is a not-to-be-missed farm. I’m predicting the intersection will be magic!  P.S. Lee tells us they’ll have pasture-raised lamb around the first of August.

Lastly: Dan’s Diner.  Northern Columbia County-ites!  You know that super-cool little diner that sits alongside Route 203 on the way between Chatham and Spencertown?  It’s open and it’s beautiful.  The food is pretty good, but trust me, that’s not what you’re going there for. You’re going to Dan’s Diner to experience a trip back in time.  Hours are short, I think only until 3pm on Saturdays and Sundays and breakfast only until 11am, but just gogogo. It’s really neat.

Phew! That felt good. I’ve been meaning to tell you about all those things for ages now, but along with being very busy and quite worried about some “developments” at work, I’ve had a nasty sinus infection for a week now.  So on top of being busy and stressed, I’m also spacey and tired.  Hopefully a three-day weekend is just what the doctor ordered.  We’ll be attending the Columbia Land Conservancy‘s annual Barbecue at Old Chatham Sheepherding on Sunday.  Last year was awesome.  Anyone else going?

P.S. The photos in this post are from an after-work walk Isaac and I took. Please excuse the light-trails that are evidence of my jumpy hand, but between you and me, I kind of like them.

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* Here’s the recipe!

Buttermilk Pancakes (adapted from a recipe for Apple Pancakes from the Hancock Shaker Village)

2 cups sifted flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon sugar

2 eggs, lightly beaten

1 1/2 cups buttermilk

2 tablespoons butter + a bit more

Sift flour and other dry ingredients into a bowl.  Whisk together sugar, buttermilk and eggs.  Add to dry ingredients. Stir until smooth and set aside.  Melt butter in a skillet or nonstick frying pan.  Just before making the pancakes, add the melted butter to the batter and beat to incorporate

From the original recipe: “Grease a hot griddle for the first batch. Generally greasing is not necessary after that if a recipe contains 2 tablespoons or more of fat.  Griddle is at proper heat if when tested with drops of water, they do a lively dance. Serve with Mystery Syrup. Yields 10-12 cakes.”

If anyone has any idea what Mystery Syrup is, please let me know!

I’m back. Another year older and with a new prefix: Mrs.  It feels amazing! Can I say “Best Spring ever?” Yeah, I think I can.

I have no idea how much you want to hear about this whole wedding thing, so I’ll try to keep it to one thought: Getting married is awesome!  I know you’re going to think I’m crazy, but I was really dreading it. I have no idea why. I saw it as an ordeal that needed to be survived.  I was dreading our parents meeting. I was dreading the emotional bomb that the ceremony was going to be. I was dreading the reception and dinner.  Turns out, I’m a freak.

Our parents seem to genuinely like each other, and while I did find the whole thing incredibly emotional (I was so busy crying during the ceremony I have no idea if it was emotional for everyone else, but I think it was) I felt so light and bright and buoyant afterward. And then it was time to eat, drink and be merry. And eat and drink and laugh we did.

There was champagne and beautiful Burgundy. A pretty little salad, a perfect pea soup, lamb with ramps, mint pistou, spring vegetables and roasted potatoes and raspberry cake with lemon curd and buttercream frosting.  There were stories and tales and even a few toasts.  My bouquet was full of tulips, anemones, hydrangeas and sweet peas.  It was as springy as Spring can be. It was the perfect way to start a new life.

And now, finally, we can get back to just that: living. Back to digging in the dirt and grilling and hanging out and chatting with friends and making potato salad. (Yep, potato salad. Again.)  But this is a potato salad with a twist.  For my birthday Isaac grilled us oysters, asparagus and steaks (N.B. mignonette is good on oysters, but it is outstanding on grilled hanger steak).  And then, after dinner, washed down with a fancy bottle of Spanish wine, we tossed a few foil-wrapped potatoes on the still-glowing coals and left them there while we watched the sun set and lounged about, blissfully not thinking about getting married.  And then, before bed, we grabbed the potatoes, unwrapped them and tossed them in the fridge.

On Sunday night when we got back to the city I chopped the sweet, smoky potatoes and tossed them with thinly sliced celery, a finely minced onion, chopped olives, a handful of slivered basil, a spoonful of a blood orange and fennel tapenade that was lingering in the fridge and an aggressively sharp vinaigrette with a pinch of pimenton de la vera (to enhance the smokiness) and served it next to broiled fillets of mackerel.  And boy oh boy was that good!  The salad is great and unusual, but even more than that I loved the mackerel. Me, a fish-hater, loving mackerel! It really is a whole new world!

Or maybe getting engaged has given me so much to think about and so many things to do that I haven’t had the time to write.  Or cook.  But that’s also because suddenly everyone wants to take us out to dinner: friends, relatives, everyone.  It’s really nice–a whirlwind really–but I also can’t wait to sit back and relax a little bit this weekend, to roast a chicken a la Jacques Pepin, and maybe bake a loaf of bread.

But, before I do that (lest I sound ungrateful) I’d like to say a big, hearty and heartfelt thank you to each of you for your kind wishes and enthusiastic yays! You’re the nicest group of people to ever gather here at this little website.  Thank you all so much!

There are so many details to iron out, but since I’m sure you’re all just like the friends with whom I speak day-in and day-out, I figure you’d like a few details, too.  So here’s what I’ve got: We’re going to do a civil ceremony soon, like, the end of April soon.  Just our parents, my step-sister and her family and maybe Isaac’s sisters.  And then in September, we’re going to have a big party in our backyard up at the house!  Barbecue! Bocce! Croquet! Local beer! Finger Lakes wine! Laughter! Dancing! Smiles!

It’s going to be great and I can’t wait, but, it’s still incredibly overwhelming.  So in an attempt to bring things back down to earth a little bit, I’d like to talk about something very mundane: steamed potatoes.

I have managed to actually cook one thing in the three weeks since we got engaged (I have cobbled together several things as well, like a kimchi and short rib stew, but it wasn’t really cooking) and it was a potato salad.  Sounds kind of dull, right?  But let me tell you, this is no humdrum, run-of-the-mill, average potato salad.  It is a Spanish-influenced salad with chickpeas and olives from the inimitable Greg and Lucy Malouf.  It is the sort of salad that, after making once, you immediately index away for every single potluck you’ll ever go to again.

And it starts with steamed potatoes.  Before this recipe I had never steamed potatoes before.  But now?  I want to have steamed potatoes on hand at all times.  They are so versatile and very delicious.  Steaming does something very profound to potatoes.  It concentrates their flavor, gives them rigidity and solidity and primes them perfectly for tossing in a paprika-scented, sherry vinegar based vinaigrette.

In fact I’m so head over heels with steamed potatoes that, for a minute, I actually thought that it might be a good idea to put this copper potato steamer on our registry (I later came to my senses and realized that asking for such a thing was not acceptable, and that asking for this would be even worse, and yet not nearly as bad as this.)

So, back to the salad.  If you own the Maloufs’ book Artichoke to Za’atar you can find the recipe on page 63.  If you don’t own the book and you’re a fan of all things Middle Eastern and Mediterranean, you really should.  Anyway, salad.  Focus Ann!

Start with about two pounds of good waxy potatoes.  Peel them and cut them into little cubes and steam them for about 10 minutes or until they are tender.  If you’re lucky you have a master potato-taster like I do who can help you determine the exact moment at which your potatoes are done.  Remove the potatoes from the pot and set aside to cool.

While the potatoes are cooling, rinse a can of chickpeas and add them to a big bowl (don’t throw away the can).  Dice one purple onion and add to the chickpeas.  Dice two medium tomatoes or quarter a container of cherry tomatoes and add to the chickpeas.  Smash and chop a big handful of your favorite green olives and add to the chickpeas.  Chop a big handful of a mix of parsley and cilantro and add to the chickpeas.  Season with salt and pepper and coat with a bit of olive oil.  Toss until well mixed.

Fill the chickpea can gently with the steamed potatoes.  If you have some leftover potatoes, don’t panic.  Save them for making an impromptu after-work potato and leek soup or for heating up and mashing with lots of olive oil and herbs or for pan-roasting gently with butter and parsley … Oh wait, back to the salad!  Tip the potatoes in the can back into their cooking pot, season with salt and pepper, a pinch of paprika, another pinch of smoked paprika and coat liberally with olive oil, sherry vinegar and a dash of lemon juice.  Toss to coat and then tip the potatoes and their dressing into the bowl with the chickpea mixture and toss again.

And that’s it!  What a long-winded way of telling you about such a simple salad.  But, that’s what it’s like around here these days. I’m constantly distracted and always feel like I should be doing at least two or three other things at all times.  I keep telling myself to just sit back and breathe and enjoy it, but I have a hard time being that way.

So, if you’ve gotten married recently and have some good tips on how to handle it all, please feel free to share!  I’ll try to pay attention in-between choosing a dress, picking out rings and booking tents.  Oh boy, here we go!

In his perfect world, winter would mean an endless parade of dinners featuring cabbage, squash, hearty greens and root vegetables.  Apparently, I have been depriving him of these things this winter.  So last week when I had a craving for lasagna, I knew how to get him to agree to it.  I suggested we have squash lasagna.

I know squash lasagna sounds a little weird, but it’s not. In fact, it’s awesome.  A few years ago I made a vegetarian lasagna that featured a thick, fragrant layer of spaghetti squash mingled with ricotta cheese and herbs.  Sometimes, when Isaac is dreaming about it, he’ll walk up to someone on the street and just start telling them about it.  Sometimes I suspect he keeps me around solely in case I decide to make that again … Kidding! But honestly, it was very good and I have no idea why I never wrote about it before, maybe because it’s a little complicated, and well, a little weird.

So, squash lasagna was on.  A layer of garlicky, herby butternut would replace the thick layers of cheese and bechamel.  And there would be a spicy, aggressive layer of chard.  And a topping of caramelized mushrooms and lots of fresh mozarella.  And then, while I was thumbing through the latest Bon Appetit and saw Molly‘s recipe for clereiac salad, I knew we had  a complete meal. When I asked Isaac what he thought, I think he actually did a little jig.

I didn’t have hazlenut oil on hand, so at Isaac’s urging I made a vinaigrette centered around the beautiful preserved Meyer lemons that  Christina had sent us (actually, she sent us the lemons and I preserved them, but I always think of them as Christina’s preserved lemons).  And then we sat and waited.  The lasagna came out and sat on the stove, and we stared at it, willing it to be cool enough to cut into.

Ten minutes later it was time, and honestly, I have to tell you, meat lasagna holds no sway over me, but vegetable lasagna?  Swoon.  We had this twice for dinner as leftovers this week, and I could easily eat it every night again for a week or more. It is so good.  The salad was also nice, but I think I had my ratios off.  It needed more apple and fennel and less celery root.  But no matter, because dinner wasn’t in anyway the most memorable thing about Saturday night.

Because after all the dishes were done and I was snuggled up tight on the couch in my pajamas surfing the web, Isaac handed me a little box and asked me to marry him.  Of course, I said yes.

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To make the lasagna:

Peel one large or two small butternut squash and chop into approximately one inch sized pieces.  Toss in a baking dish with olive oil, salt a few cloves of squashed, peeled garlic and the leaves of a sprig of rosemary. Roast at 350ºF until soft and mashable.  Mash and allow to cool.  Mix in a few spoonfuls of really good ricotta. Salt to taste

Sautee a bunch or two of chard (leaves sliced into ribbons, stems chopped, everything washed) in olive oil with garlic and lots of chili flakes until crisp-tender.  Allow to cool.

Cook 12 large, sliced crimini mushrooms in olive oil with lots of garlic and a little water until very soft, then allow water to cook off over medium-high heat until the mushrooms become lightly caramelized.

To assemble the lasagna spread a layer of tomato sauce (homemade or very good store-bought) on the bottom of a dish.  Add a layer of no-boil lasagna noodles, spread more sauce on.  Add a layer of chard and a layer of fresh mozarella.  Add another layer of noodles, top with squash, then some chard.  Add another layer of noodles, add more sauce, add more squash. Add another layer of noodles, more sauce, and then the mushrooms. Top with more mozzarella, more sauce, and finally some freshly grated cheese.

Bake until golden-brown, bubbling and delicious.  Allow to cool 10 minutes before cutting into it. Enjoy!