Chilli Rellenos Casserole or killer Stuffed poblano casserole. A study in photos.
Roasted and peeled
The Spicy tomato sauce drizzled with crema
Poaching liquid with annato, chipotle en adobo, chix stock cumin, bay
The shredded chicken tossed with fire roasted corn ,parm, goat cheese and a little jack.
Stuffed.
Cover in more tomato sauce, poblano cream sauce, sprinkle jack and parm and bake.
Ali was back home from the UK on another school break so I invited him over on friday for an all day cook-a-thon while my chimney guys came and repaired the flu for the living room chimney. All week I plotted and planned to try and decide what we were going to cook. In the end it was rather a hodge podge of dishes, but braise and simmer seemed to be the keywords.
I started at 9:00 getting the bones ready to roast for the veal stock. 30 pounds of veal bones hit the oven to get nice and brown.
Once the bones hit the oven we started the split pea soup. Bernie, my half pig from Heritage Hill Farm had a few gorgeous smocked hocks and one of husband's favourites is split pea soup. I thawed a hock out and tipped that in a pot with some sweated carrot, celery, garlic and onion, tossed in a few bay leaves and 1 package of green split peas, 1 package of yellow split peas and a load of water and set the white pot on a diffuser plate on a back burner to simmer away.
Meanwhile Ali kept checking the stock to see if we needed to skim the scum.
Next I had seen something over at Ideas in Food where they made perfect soft scrambled eggs using an Isi cream dispenser. I forwarded the link off to Ali who is obsessed with all things related to molecular gastronomy or new cooking techniques. I picked up a new Isi at Restaurant Depot on Thursday and set up the thermal immersion circulator on the counter. Eggs, butter, salt, hot sauce and skim milk were mixed and then poured in the canister. This sat in an 82C water bath for 1 hour.
We let the canister rest and added to nitrous charges and shook, shook, shook the canister, but sadly in the end we had to scrape out the eggs. 82C is below eggs coagulation point of 180F so we aren't sure why it didn't work so we will test it again dropping it a degree or two and doing it for a little less time.
They tasted mighty fine though.
While the soup was simmering and the veal stock gently bubbling we started on the osso buco. I'm not going to bother giving you the recipe because we loosely followed the one in Molly Stevens All About Braising and if you don't own that book yet I really don't know what you are waiting for. Every damn idea in that book is delicious. We started them on the stove and popped it in a low over to do it's work.
Here they are at the half point stage.
And here they are completed. At this point I popped it in the fridge and then last night as the teenage trick-or-treaters were stealing all of the candy in my bowl in one fell swoop, I reheated it in a low oven with a bit more of that fresh veal stock and made the risotto bed. Need I say yum?
The last project was a surprise for husband. I made him Lancashire hot pot and braised red cabbage. I'm sad that I don't have any pictures of this dish because it was gorgeous with a cap of perfectly placed potatoes in concentric circles on the top. I will definitely be repeating this one again. Lamb loin chops, dredged, browned and added to a ton of onions, carrot and swede (rutabaga or purple topped turnip to me and you), veal stock and a few other things simmered UNDER a crust of thinly sliced potatoes.
Here's Ali prepping the cabbage for the braised red cabbage and in the foreground is the gratin dauphinoise he whipped up with the leftover thinly sliced potato from the hot pot. He had just made one last week when he took the Teens Cook: Julia Child class and this one was spectacularly good! Traditionally Lancashire hot pot is served with pickled cabbage but husband who professes to hate vinegar and all things pickled said he would have preferred having the pickled cabbage over the braised cabbage. Who knew? I can't keep up. Ali ate so much of the red cabbage raw his lips and entire mouth were stained deep purple when I eventually sent him home with his Dad. I also apologised profusely to his Dad since i introduced Ali to Ideas in Food, StudioKitchen, JB Prince, Le Sanctuaire and a few other dangerous places. He left as excited as a kid at Christmas since he finally found where to order an anti griddle and a pacojet. I don't think he shall ever be the same. He left on Halloween morning to go back to school for another semester but he'll be back for a long break in December and I have to come up with some plans to keep him busy!
Thus ended our long day mucking about in the kitchen. Yesterday morning I portioned and froze the soup and then strained and packaged up the veal stock, labeled it and divided it amongst the freezers for the long winter ahead. And I just have one thing to say about that stock.
Look at that gelatin baby!
Sometime dinner has to be on the very simple side. We generally don't get home until 8:00 most nights and after the dog has been walked and the mail sorted, the cocktail poured and the jammies donned I get dinner to the table. I cook at least 6 out of 7 nights a week. It's my therapy, my way to relax and since I began running the school I really don't get to cook much on a daily basis at work, so on nights and weekends I flex my culinary muscles. Generally on Saturday or Sunday I make a list of what dinner will be for the week. I thaw and marinate and make lists and on the way into work each morning I pop into Whole Foods when it is vewy vewy quiet (shhhh I'm hunting wabbits) and pick up the produce I need. Along with the stuff I make and put up in the freezer we may only get take out once every few months. Sometimes I just need pad thai or duck choo chee made just for me.
I had no plans for dinner on Wednesday night so on my drive into work I tried to decide what I would need at the store. I hopped out of the truck, grabbed my bags and phone and headed in. I started plucking ingredients and I realised that when I was reading an old Saveur over tea that morning I had seen a picture of a Welsh rabbit and it must have stuck in my head or maybe it was just the freezing cold pouring rain and gray sky that made me want it. My favourite version to make is the one from the Two Fat Ladies. Unlike many recipes it does not have any beer in it, but it does have the usual Worcestershire sauce.
Their method separates the yolks into the cheese and then whips up the whites seperately effectively making a light soufflé instead of the traditional cheese sauce poured over the toast and browned under the broiler. Once you break though the dark crust it's a very light soft soufflé inside. Heaven. A nice green salad and a glass of wine and your world is a much happier place.
Take a gratin dish and slice some hearty, rustic bread and toast it. Lay this on the bottom of the dish. I like the crusts cut off for this.
Separate 4 eggs. Into 3 of the yolks, discard the 4th, add some dry mustard powder - about 1 tsp. Coleman's is my preferred mustard powder, now add a dash or two of hot sauce, my poison is Frank's red hot and a splash or two or three or Worcestershire sauce.
Mix this up and add some grated cheese, about 2 cups. Good sharp cheddar is traditional, but I added a bit of gruyere that I had kicking around, I think raclette might be nice as well. Mix this up and add some salt and pepper.
Whip the crap out of those egg whites until you get a nice stiff peak. Hold that whisk up and if your peak stays up like Mt Fuji your good to go.
Take a bit of those whites and dump them in your cheese mixture, stir it up to lighten the mixture and then as gently as you can, fold in the rest of the whites.
Tip this out on top of your bread and bake for 10 minutes or so in a 450F oven.
Look at these yummy presents from my friend Beth who sadly deserted us at Create a Cook to move to North Carolina.
Grits!
Mmmm grits. There might need to be some low country shrimp and grits for dinner one night.
Because mother nature has decided to be a real beeeyatch this year I had to pull my pepper plants out of the garden the other night to beat jack frost. Again, because good old mother nature flipped us the middle finger this year we really had no summer to speak of and what my pepper plants wanted was, to quote Buster Poindexter, HOT HOT HOT. In the end I had about 20 or so peppers. Saturday on our hunting and gathering expedition we stopped at the Waltham Farmer's market which is whittled down to about 2 or 3 stalls of vegetables now and I picked up a big bag of peppers to supplement.
Sunday as mother nature again slapped us in the face with rain and wind and sleet and snow IN OCTOBER - sorry can you feel my bitterness - I decided to break my fear of canning and make some pepper jelly. Mmmmmm pepper jelly. I'm a condiment collector. Everywhere we travel I by a jar of this and a bottle of that and more often than not pepper jelly leaps off the shelf and demands to be taken home. Some people serve a bit over cream cheese on a cracker, and please if you do this make it a Ritz, my grandpa would, but we use it all the time as a glaze for pork.
I poured through my books, I googled, I searched and in the end I used the recipe on the pack of pectin I bought. Folks, look no further because the recipe is perfect. You get just the right suspension of particles and you can control your heat by leaving or removing the ribs and seeds. I did my Mom's method of boil the jars first, fill warm, add lids and flip with no second boil, but you will have decide what makes you feel comfortable. I think if I were just making a fruit jam then I would have gone for the second boil, but this one is loaded with acid and sugar so i am pretty confident nothing is going to survive in it.
Take 12 oz of peppers and 1 cup of cider vinegar and puree it in a food processor. Dump that into a heavy bottomed pot leaving PLENTY of head room because jam always wants to boil over. Add 1 more cup of cider vinegar and 6 cups (or 42 ounces) of sugar and stir.
Bring to a rolling boil stirring here and there, don't walk away - trust me on this - boil 10 minutes. Add two 3 ounce packages of liquid pectin and boil 1 more minute. Ladle into hot jars leaving 1/4" headroom, add lid and ring, seal finger tight and flip. Call your Mom to ask her how long to leave them flipped upside down, 'oh awhile'. Flip back upright after 15 minutes or so and listen for the plink of the vacuum seal. Makes 5 half pint jars and a smidge leftover for the fridge. VOILA! Jelly! So much fun. I feel a new hobby coming on.
I'd like to finish this little discussion with a picture that will make you squeal. No? Well maybe just me then. My SD went to watch the Patriots game yesterday at his friends farm in VA. At halftime they walked out to his field to take this picture of the new arrival. I want to pet it now!
Oh the silence around here is deafening isn't it? Well, I'll confess that there is some very big news coming soon, but I need to wait for some i's to be dotted and t's to be crossed before I share in the meantime I could use some crossed fingers okay?
In the meantime though I want to talk about pork. Amazing, moist, delicious, kindly raised, well fed and nurtured pork. You can read all about Heritage Hill Farm and the work Lani and her husband are doing to raise longhorn cattle, chicken and pigs and Lani's produce CSA. Go on, I'll wait.
Okay, now back in May when Mom called to tell me about the sign she passed on the road near our house in Maine I contacted Lani and had her send me a brochure and when I read it I had a passing thought about purchasing a pig, but really, where can one put a half a pig? Then over the summer when I went to visit Mom we stopped by Lani's farm and I met the pigs, chatted with Lani about what they were doing at the farm and decided then and there that I was going to try and make this happen. I started weeding though the chest freezer in the garage. I wrote to Lani and asked how much space it would take up, 2X2X2 feet in case you were planning, and so I arranged the freezer with a big space in the center to bring it all home. Lani and Mom and I went back and forth about dates. The closing date for Maine is set in stone once Mom buys her plane tickets and so the first weekend in October was it. Lani worked really hard to get the butcher and the smokehouse to coordinate. Emails flew back and forth and a time was set for the pass off. Mom and SD arrived just as the truck was arriving and 2 men loaded the pig into the trunk of the car and Mom wrapped a blanket around the box to try and keep it cold. PIGS in a BLANKET...GET IT? Alright, we thought it was funny. I met Mom on route 1 in Saugus at her favourite pizza joint and we loaded Bernie into two coolers and had lunch before their flight.
Back home into the freezer Bernie went and I assure you there was not one spare inch of space in that freezer! This weekend I broke out a package of the bacon to have for Sunday breakfast with some of Lani's eggs. If the bacon was a precursor of what was to come, we were in for some great pork. Lightly smoked and cured with I am assuming no nitrates because it was not that shade of nitrate pink we fried it up and had it with a golden yolk egg and plotted the roast for later.
I thawed out a 3.75 pound pork loin roast on the bone..mmmm...bones. I consulted Delia and Hugh Fearnley-Whitingstall, Cooks and Pork & Sons, Bruce Aidelles, Anne Willan, Andre Soltner and Bourdain. In the end I decided to wing it and combine a few ideas, but I followed Hugh's Sizzle, Roast and Rest method.
I made a paste of garlic and sage from the garden and poked some holes in the roast and pushed it in. Then I salted it with flaky Maldon sea salt and popped it in a 450F oven for 20 mins. At the 20 min mark I pulled it out and smeared it all over in Dijon mustard and then pressed on a mixture of panko crumbs, black pepper and more fresh sage, I put in the temperature probe set to 150F and put it back in the now cooler 325F oven and cooked it for 20 minutes per pound OR UNTIL the temp timer went off. It took close to 2 hours.
Once it reached 150F I removed it from the roasting pan and let it rest on the cutting board covered in a nice blanket of foil.
It rested for 20 minutes while the root veg got a good blast of heat. It took every ounce of resistance I could muster to not start picking at the outside for a taste.
Finally we carved the pork. Moist does not even begin to describe this roast. And people can I tell you something? It TASTED LIKE PORK. REAL pork. Not today's cardboard masquerading as pork but the real deal the stuff I remember from my childhood. There was bone gnawing and lip smacking and praise to Bernie all around. I made a pledge when Bernie came home to the freezer that I was going to do my best to honour this pig. I plan to document every meal we make from Bernie and Lani...next year I want the head and the tail too!
One day in May when Mom was up opening the house Maine for the season I got a call. "You need to go on the Internet immediately! I just passed a sign on the road to Dan's house that said pork and poultry!". Google came to the rescue and that is how I first discovered the lovely Heritage Hill Farm. I wrote an email to Leilani and told her that in the summer we live around the corner and that I was really excited to find someone doing this in our neighborhood. Finally on my last trip up to visit Mom in August we drove by on a sunny afternoon and pulled in the drive trying to avoid all the chickens who were wandering about pecking in grass and the flower beds. Lani was in the garden and she poked her head up and said 'Sorry, no eggs today'. I hopped out of the Jeep with my camera and wandered over to the vegetable plot on the rise of the hill. Behind the vegetables were some longhorn steer wondering who this woman with the crazy devil horn hairdo was.
I introduced myself and Lani came down and asked if I'd like to meet the pigs. Would I? OF COURSE! So we sauntered across the lawn past the lovely old barn to the sound of large puppy barking his fool head off and came to the edge of the pig enclosure. They had wandered out of the wallow area though the ubiquitous old New England stone wall to the other area.
Lani called " here pig pig pig" a few times while we chatted and Mom said "Oh, here they come." And sure enough a mini herd of sure footed fat pigs came barreling over thinking that we were there to dispense some lovely restaurant leftover scraps. Some of the local restaurants supply her with scraps from prep and being the discerning pigs they are, we laughed to find out that they were not as enamoured with the local inn's scraps because they were compacted a bit too much for their delicate taste buds. Finicky!
She told me that her husband was in charge of all things with tails and she took care of the chickens and the vegetable CSA, but she knew they were Berkshire and some Berkshire/Tamworth cross. While I was admiring the snouts that were being presented through the fence Mom turned around and noticed the incoming chicken invasion.
"We're being raided by the chickens". Lani said they were just mooches and were always there when she fed the pigs to see if there were any good offerings for them. Besides the egg layers, she had a movable, well movable with some brute force, enclosure for the hens she was raising to sell as roasters sometime around late Aug/early Sept. I asked her about the cattle on the rise as I wasn't sure they were longhorns since the horns weren't really well, long. Again she deferred to her husband, the nose and tail man and said they were a cross, but she couldn't recall what they were crossed with. I asked about the abattoir and how they would deal with the cattle. They will be field killed and then brought to my local favourite meat market Ballard's to be processed. I had no idea Ballard's did that so when I swung by Wednesday on my way back home I talked to them about it. It seems the business started out just to process the meat for local hunters and then grew into a meat market. One of these falls I am going to ask the them if they would let me intern for a week. I'd love to really work with a whole or half beast. I've always loved butchery and the staff at Ballard's are seriously the happiest working group of people I have ever met.
We stood and chatted awhile longer about her produce CSA and this seasons horrid weather and the tomato blight as her father in law strolled past to head to the barn. It seems the tractor is not playing nice in the sandbox that day and he was going to see if he could be the tractor whisperer and get it going. Before Mom and I left I asked her how long I had to decide whether I would buy a half pig. Lani said until they are gone! So I emailed her last night because Mom is heading up the first weekend in October to close the house for the season and she could swing by to pick up my pig for me. She's going to check with the butcher to see when pickup might be, fingers crossed I could be having some lovely happily raised Berkshire pork this winter. Oh and Lani...the sign worked!
As I mentioned before, Alasdair and I had a 'date' to go to Craigie on Main for their once a year Whole Hog dinner. Originally it was supposed to be 4 of us, but at the last minute Brian had babysitter issues, so in the end Alasdair and I decided what the hell and carried on.
I apologise in advance for the photos, I thought bringing the SLR might be a bit rude, I borrowed Alasdair's dad's point and shoot, but we kept having problems with shutting off the flash and without it the pictures were hopeless, so I only have a few iphone photos with which to tempt you into going. In the end I needn't have worried, every table around us had their cellphones out snapping pictures of their pig heads.
The place was sold out and hopping when we arrived at 7:30. We asked the hostess if we could stand on the side and watch the action for a bit. The open kitchen and pass were buzzing like a hive. Chef Maws was right there making sure everything went out perfectly cooked and plates were constantly being wiped and inspected. Suddenly Alasdair noticed a pig head passing by us. He looked at me with wide eyes. When we were seated we noticed we were right near the 86 board and it read: 4 3 2 1 pig head. We had high hopes.
Our waiter, who I hope I remember correctly was Patrick, arrived and offered up the wine list and the prix fixe menu sheet for the night with the quote "Never eat more than you can lift" - Miss Piggy on the top of the page. Alasdair informed me he could lift quite a bit. I told the waiter that I was obviously the designated driver for the night, pointing over to Alasdair, and asked if perhaps they might have something sparkly and non-alcoholic for us to have instead. Patrick asked if we would like the bar to make a mocktail flight for us for each course. I looked Alasdair and he was nodding yes wildly.
Then we asked the important question. How could we get the pig head? We pointed at the 86 board ever hopeful that 2 and 1 had not been taken, but the news was sad. It wasn't listed on the menu and was only being announced table-side. Sadly for us the last one was gone. Ah well. I told him we'll go to Estragon one night and have it when he gets back from school. We placed our orders being careful to choose the opposite dishes in some courses so we could sample.
The Amuse and the first mocktail arrived. Not to discount the pork, because boys and girls there was some fine, FINE pork to be had that night, but I was truly blown away by the mocktails. Not only did they make a new libation for each course, they made a different one for each of us! I'd sip mine, he'd sip his and we'd switch for a taste. As you can see they were served in traditional cocktail glasses so I delighted in the stare of abject horror by the woman 'of an age' several tables away who likely thought I was getting Alsadair soused. Each one was spectacular. They make all of their infusions, bitters, syrups and potions. My favourite was one with peach, nectarine and rhubarb and one with orange blossom water. I never once missed the alcohol. If you go, be sure to let them test out a few on you, I assure you that you will not be disappointed.
Amuse: Lardo on a crispy rice wafer, pork cracklings, Pâté de Campagne, prosciutto
The waiter, overhearing Alsadair talking about the onion and tomato confit he was planning to make the next day started asking questions. Pretty soon he was chatting lovely food things with us as he picked up each course to clear away. We talked about Transglutaminase-Activa and immersion circulators, le-sanctuaire and sausages. A meal can obviously make or break your restaurant experience, but so can the wait staff and we adored our waiter. He really made the night. We found out that the kitchen upstairs is just for finishing the dishes, there is a whole laboratory downstairs in the basement where the real action takes place. There are 3 walk-ins of which 2 are used just for curing everything in-house. Alasdair was telling him about his visit to tour the kitchens at no9 Park and how one huge room is just for meat fabrication all stainless steel with no seams anywhere and a whole hose system for washing everything down. They talked about her upcoming fine dining venture and then we got back to Chef Maws and where he sources the pigs.
1st course: Alasdair chose the Tortellini of Braised Pork Belly, and after the first taste I wished I had chosen it as well. Light as air, served en brodo and filled with perfect shredded belly I had the Glacée of Summer Farm Vegetables and House Cured Lomo simply because I wanted to try the huitlacoche jus ( which sounds infinitely better than corn smut). Every tiny perfect vegetable tasted like it had been cooked separately, every taste was distinct and the revelation was the cooked radish. I never think to cook them as I am too busy dipping them in butter and salt. But cooked they are milder with just a bit of the bite left.
Next course I chose the Crispy Fromage de Tête with the most perfect egg on top.
Alasdair chose the House Made Boudin Noir and Chorizo Stuffed Grilled Local Squid.
For our third course we both chose the Vermont Organic Pork Three Ways: Spice Crusted Rib, Glazed and Grilled Belly, Bacon Wrapped Loin. That pork loin was the most tender, perfectly cooked piece of loin I have ever had the joy of eating. It certainly didn't need a knife. But oh my. The pork belly. Crisp outside, soft and sweet inside. By the time this course came and I stopped Alasdair to take a picture he was all "Come on I want to eat it!"
We finished up with the Cornbread Pain Perdu, followed by a plate of tiny Mignardises. Alsadair dove on the truffles and I wish I could have captured his face when he bit into the first one. I think it just might have been love at first bite. There was a final nosh, courtesy the chef which was a light as air custard of rhubarb with a cream foam on top.
As we finished up Alasdair looked at me and said words to the effect of "it sucks to be your friend", meaning poor Brian who missed out, but we had an amazing dinner. Craigie and Chef Maws deserve every bit of praise that is heaped on them. Go, eat local, eat fresh, eat well.
Craigie on MainThose of you who follow me on twitter (joamuse) have heard me mention my 12-year 13-year old foodie friend who I take along with me on field trips. He started out as a student at Create a cook with some of the other instructors and they all kept telling me you have to meet him. After 1 conversation Alasdair and I became fast food friends.
Let me introduce you to him by saying one of his goals is to get his parents to take him to a 3 Michelin starred restaurant. At home he has his own personal kitchen set-up in the corner with his Cuisinart standing mixer a portable induction burner and more tools than most home kitchens. He and I can discuss any cooking technique, and cookbook, chef, etc., at length. He's eaten in far more restaurants than I ever have, in fact he's my 'date' for a friend's birthday dinner at Craigie on Main for Whole Hog night next Tuesday. He dined at Stir recently and Barbara Lynch was the chef that night. He schmoozed her up and told her he wanted a pacojet and a thermal immersion circulator so he can start trying out sous vide cooking but that he was having a tough time convincing his parents, Chef Lynch not only came to his defense saying of course they should get it for him, she also told him he was welcome to come spend a day with her at no 9 Park. Jealous! The boy is food mad.
A few years ago we started out by making a traditional Christmas Pudding at his house. We hit farmer's markets, we went to Baza when they opened to ogle all the unfamiliar ingredients, we went to Kam Man a few weeks ago where I introduced him to banh mi with head cheese and pate and we wandered up and down every aisle investigating while he helped me pick up ingredients for some upcoming Vietnamese, Korean and Thai classes. There were two things he wanted us to make, brawn or head cheese and sausages. I figured we could start with the easier of the two since finding a pig's head may require a trip to Maine to visit Heritage Hill Farm in October (more about my visit there later!) so sausages were the first choice.
Through Kinnealey I picked up some fat back, pork butt and hog casings and then a perusal through Ruhlman and Polcyn's Charcuterie to make the final decisions.
I chose Mexican chorizo, Bratwurst and the 3rd recipe would possible be Italian sausage, but in a nod to Alasdair being British, not to mention husband, we went with the chipolata from the book Alasdair brought me as a gift Professional Charcuterie by John Kinsela. He chose the book because he loved that all the recipes were charts. I need to get him a copy of Ratio stat!
I knew it was going to be around 85 - 90F in my kitchen and about an equal percentage of humidity so I bought loads of ice, chilled down all the equipment in the fridge, left the fat in the freezer until the last minute and cut all the meat partially frozen.
Alasdair acted as official Spice mix master.
We ground the meat into the bowl over another bowl of ice to try and keep it nice and cold.
Even with all these precautions to keep everything ultra cold we still had to pause occasionally and let things rest in the fridge before resuming the next step we sat down at the table with 1 fan aimed at us and 1 fan aimed right at the poor Kitchen-aid to try and cool the poor thing down. You could fry an egg on the motor housing. Since he has been reading Eric Ripert's new book On The Line we were discussing the various stations in the kitchen and he was telling me how long it takes to progress down the line at Le Bernadin, today of course we were working the Garde Manger station. I told him about Ms. Glaze's Pommes d'Amour and told him he really needs to look her up for a first hand account.
After it rested in the fridge and we gulped down more liquid, the meat and spices would go back under the mixer with the paddle attachment to add some liquid, in the case of chorizo it was ice cold tequila and red wine vinegar!
After we made all three sausage mixes, cooked off little patties of each to test for seasoning and chilled everything down it was time for the stuffing. Alasdair referred to the hog casings I been soaking in water all morning as 'granny stockings'.
The first batch, the chorizo, took us over 30 minutes to stuff, by the time we got to the chipolata we were down to 10 minutes. Sure, we overstuffed here and there, there were a few 'blow outs', but we just squished it back in the bowl and started again.
Alasdair took charge of the link twisting.
We started at 10:30 and finished the last of the sausages by 5:30. We were both dripping and exhausted but it was a great day. I sent home half with Alasdair and we kept half here to freeze later. Even though the sausages were twisted when we cut them to cook them I tied each end off to prevent the sausage from oozing out the ends as it cooked. Husband and I sautéed some onion and peppers from the farm stand we stopped by in Ipswich on Friday and grilled some of the Brats and I made some of the Cooks Illustrated recommended Yukon gold fries that you start in cold oil (novel, but it worked!) and all was well in the world. I'm not going to give you the recipe here Charcuterie is well worth the investment. Stay tuned for head cheese. YIKES!
After Mom and I hit Five Islands she wanted to take me to see the Mt.Vernon Country Store. The plumber had been over the house doing some work and my SD asked him where he could find a particular clip-like doohickey thingie for his kayak and he told them about the Mt. Vernon Country Store.
We headed past Fast Fred's Frank's down past Castle Island Camps and our boat launch and then we swept up and down and up and down the hills. Sadly the point of this post is not the MT. Vernon Country Store which was, as promised, an amazing little slice of old America with a grocery section out front, loads of things for canning (including the wide mouth Ball jar plastic caps I had been seeking since I store loads of things in my Ball jars) and in the back, a boys dream. A cornucopia of little drawers and nooks and crannies chock full of doo dads, bleebles, whirly bobs and just one of just that thing-a-ma-jiggy that you were looking for. Sorry, the tale of this post is about the EGGS sign that made us pull over on the way there.
I was planning on leaving the next day and there was no way to guarantee anybody would be home at my usual egg lady place so we had been searching all day. My egg lady, bless her, charges $2.00 or $2.50 a dozen depending on feed prices and we had seen some at the Waterville Farmer's market for $4.00 a dozen and said, "No thank you". So when we saw the egg sign we just had to check it out. When I hopped out of her Jeep I realised that I was surrounded by geese and wild turkeys and loads of little huts full of fabulous things.
I grabbed my camera and took some snaps of Mr. Peacock and his mini harem.
The bunny brigade.
I just wanted to scratch the nose!
And when I got close to the barn I could hear the strains of Joe Cocker wafting out the open doors. As I was snapping away i called out to Mom..."All this and Joe Cocker too!", she said "I know and no SD to complain about the Joe Cocker!" , family joke there, but he'll appreciate it. (**SD Just remember I left you my very first batch of dill pickles before I left!)
The barn was too dark to shoot but inside were loads of roosters and geese and various sundry birds strolling around.
Around the corner were goats, very friendly and curious goats.
More peacock and peahen and chickens, chickens chickens!
While I was snapping away Mom went into the little hut by the road, opened the cooler and took 2 dozen eggs and left the cash in the box. We never encountered the owner of the menagerie, but I think I will come back another time to try and find out more. The eggs were all different sizes and colours and very, very yummy.
Happy with my feather and fur fix, we continnued on to the General Store.