All posts filed under: Kitchen

Matriarchy

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In the South, a beautiful system of family code exists like nowhere else: the matriarchy. The importance of the familial matriarchy cannot be understated, although perhaps it’s something you only understand if you grew up in it, something that seems unbalanced or foreign to others, these strong women who oversee their families with the deepest rooted love. But in reality it is she who reaches out with a seemingly unlimited number of arms holding everyone together, taking all the weight of her brood’s troubles on her own back, all with a gentle smiling demeanor and the politest of charm. Like other matriarchies, the females make all the necessary decisions for the family and take the gentlest control in nearly every situation. This is not to downgrade the importance of the paternal figures, but in reality the women maintain the home and family to the fullest extent. The difference between Southern matriarchies and those elsewhere is the emphasis Southern women put on their good graces and charm which precludes brash harshness or unladylike forceful rudeness, making …

Spring Salad with Honey

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  The days are rainy and a little chilled lately, but tromping around the muddy orchard and garden in worn green rain boots, weeding and admiring, it becomes a welcome rain dance. And life has given me a mess of baby lettuce and greens and I’m making salad. Upon discovering a selection of almost empty microgreen and lettuce seeds in my seed box, I decided to dump them all and see what came up. Happily, they’ve produced more than enough to keep me in salads until my larger leaf lettuces catch up and there is nothing, I mean nothing, like fresh lettuce for a salad. So in spite of these rainy cool days, there’s lettuce, green onions, and strawberries to enjoy, thinking of the warmer days around the corner and splashing through the puddles until then.      SPRING SALAD WITH HONEY 4 cups mix of baby greens and lettuce of your choice 1 ½ cup strawberries, sliced ½ cup slivered almonds 4 green onions, sliced ½ cup dried cranberries ½ cup crumbled bleu cheese Honey Balsamic Vinaigrette (recipe below) Toss …

Baby Bok Choy Udon Bowl with Poached Egg

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April has arrived and per the adage she brings with her showers. A week’s worth at least according to the forecast and in taking full advantage this week is all about seeds that can be broadcast at our house. In areas tedious to mow and bordering to the woods, I have broadcast all my favorite wildflowers, a few dozen types from indian blanket and lupines to black eyed susan and coneflower, almost all native and all capable of reseeding themselves. Low maintenance is nice. But with still more old overgrowth to clear, the busiest gardening month arrived, and the house’s interior to finish, unfortunately the fencing projects and our chicken coop have to be put off, for now.                    Most days are gray and cloudy lately, but just enough humidity hangs and just enough warm sun comes through to spur on the baby bok choy. It probably doesn’t help having planted a bit too much to keep up with, but I adore fresh bok choy. The cool rain inspired soup cravings, so I opted to make a sort of play on some favorite Asian soups, mixing and …

Chicken & Noodles

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  There are few things in this world more comforting than being home with nowhere to go while snow pours down outside. I’m not certain how long I stood at the window, tracing the paths of individuals flakes with my eyes, admiring their graceful fall. I marveled at the rapidity with which the yard turned from swathes of the first spring green to a soft blanket of stark white while the cardinals whirled, three red males and a harem of a flock, in their whirling dervish patterns in and out of the tree line. I had been outside when the snow started, first occasional then constant fat fluffy flakes like feathers from some unseen molting bird.  The whipping wind rattled through the trees, an undecided gale from the north, was it winter wind or a frozen harbinger of spring? And the stately pines tossed to and fro, whispering age old stories in an unintelligible hypnotic language. Unfortunately, that calm was cut short at Winston’s behest, who rejects any form of falling moisture without exception and wanted no more being outside.  However, …