I don’t know how I’ll ever use them all, but roughly calculating along the lines of grocery store prices, I could probably sell them and pay for my daughter’s college. Or better yet, something fun for my office.

Seriously. Why are shallots so damn expensive? They are an onion, for Pete’s sake!

Anyway, it has been years since [...]]]>

I don’t know how I’ll ever use them all, but roughly calculating along the lines of grocery store prices, I could probably sell them and pay for my daughter’s college. Or better yet, something fun for my office.

Seriously. Why are shallots so damn expensive? They are an onion, for Pete’s sake!

Anyway, it has been years since I planted shallots. I remember getting ticked off trying to peel the paper thin skins and thinking, “never planting these again.” But that was before I started cooking so much. I bet I substitute onions for shallots more than anything else when following recipes. So now — provided they last in my lame root cellar lower garage, I should have enough to last me more than a year.

Successful shallot/onion/garlic storage is all about how you “cure” the bulbs. This is how NOT to do it:

how not to cure your shallots

By the way, if you’ve been following along (and I only just remembered this now), I forgot to plant these last fall and was worried they wouldn’t grow. Obviously, I was wrong. They are just fine. And given the price of the shallot sets you buy to plant, it might be worth not risking a Fall planting here in Minnesota, since harsh winters with little snow cover will kill Fall planted garlic and shallots.

For the record, I have tried planting garlic in the spring, after just that type of cataclysmic winter and it did not work. So the same can not be said for garlic. At least not for me, anyway.

Here is the progression. Hover over the photo to see the date:

To be honest, I wasn’t quite sure when to harvest. And given the frenetic nature of the past two months, I wasn’t inclined to research it, either. I decided to treat them like onions and garlic and wait until the stems were mostly flopping over and 50% or more brownish. It might have been a little long… Oh I don’t know…

What I DO know is that patch looked horrible and needed to be weeded. And low and behold the ground was also dry. In fact, I was just about to turn the sprinkler on for the first time all summer when I realized I didn’t want the shallots to get wet, so I dug them all up and set them out nicely to dry.

About six hours later, the big hailstorm started (video of the end of the storm is above in green “how not to cure shallots”). I took this picture when it was safe to go outside. I think this guy had melted by about 40% or so.

It wasn’t until the end of the storm that I realized that the shallots were not only in the rain, but under the overhang of the roof getting completely pummeled. At least they were now clean:

I’d like to say that was the last time they were rained on, but I would be lying. They were rained on, in approximately the same spot, two more times. I have no idea how that will affect their storage, but I will keep you posted.

This was the beautiful site after the big storm that destroyed farm fields, roofs, shattered windows and cleaned my shallots:

And that’s really what it looked like. The white balance on my camera was perfect. It was beautiful.

Our driveway, however, was not:

I wonder myself sometimes.

I bought this formerly lovely broccoli — I don’t know — a week ago? Two? Actually, now that I think about it, Michelle Sandquist bought the broccoli for me when her family came over for dinner last weekend.

Oh dear. I just looked at the calendar and realized it wasn’t last weekend it was [...]]]>

I wonder myself sometimes.

I bought this formerly lovely broccoli — I don’t know — a week ago? Two? Actually, now that I think about it, Michelle Sandquist bought the broccoli for me when her family came over for dinner last weekend.

Oh dear. I just looked at the calendar and realized it wasn’t last weekend it was the weekend before last. July 9th to be exact.

OK, so the broccoli was 15 “crisper days old” when I unearthed it and decided it was “just fine”.

Yes, it looks bad, but honestly, it tasted “just fine.” Not slimy at all. Just strangely brown colored…

I simply vigorously rubbed the brown nubbins’ (Morgan absolutely hates the word “nubbins” and so I use it just as much as I possibly can) into the sink…

and proceded with the recipe I intended to make two weeks earlier.

I’ve mentioned I’ve been busy lately, right?

This salad was served at who-knows-how-many graduation parties this spring. I have always loved it, saying “What IS the dressing on this? It’s SO good!” to many a hostess, only to be met with blank and/or incredulous stares.

Apparently, EVERYONE knows how to make this salad dressing except for me. But since I consider myself a cultured and experienced cook, I can’t admit that I truly am the only one in the dark. and so I share it with you today in case you, too, are broccoli salad clueless. (With some tweaks, of course). (Let me know in the comments if I really am the only one who didn’t know the wonder of combining mayo with cider vinegar and sugar)

Broccoli Bacon Salad

• 1/2 cup light or regular mayo
• 1/2 cup apple cider vinegar
• 1/4 cup sugar
• 1 head broccoli cut into small pieces. (I use most of the stem, too, but peel tough part off)
• 1 small or 1/2 a medium onion, diced
• 1/2 cup slivered almonds, toasted
• 1/2 – 1 cup craisins (dried cranberries)
• Lots ‘O Bacon crumbles (I used the stuff in the big bags at Costco, because it’s so easy)

Put broccoli, onion, craisins, almonds and bacon in a large bowl. Mix mayonnaise, vinegar and sugar together. Adjust to taste. If you like it creamier, add more mayo, sweeter, more sugar, etc. Pour dressing over ingredients and mix well. Serve at room temp or chill.

Try to disregard how awful mine looks. Trust me, it tasted just fine.

I’m totally guessing what number Meatless Monday I am on. I haven’t written in over a week, soccer camp starts in an hour, I only have 32% battery left on my laptop and TIME’S-A-WASTING! I’ve got to get the MEAT of the post before I turn into a pumpkin.

Speaking of pumpkins… [...]]]>

Refreshing and Filling, No-Cook Summer Salad

I’m totally guessing what number Meatless Monday I am on. I haven’t written in over a week, soccer camp starts in an hour, I only have 32% battery left on my laptop and TIME’S-A-WASTING! I’ve got to get the MEAT of the post before I turn into a pumpkin.

Speaking of pumpkins… Mine are so behind that I am scared I won’t have any for Halloween. Not to mention watermelon in August…

It’s impossible for me to get to the point. You know that, right?

For the record, we have not stopped doing Meatless Mondays, I just am not up to date on them. Due to the hysterical nature of the past four weeks of my life, we have also suffered some repeats. I never know what to do for repeats. Is that cheating? I mean, I never set out to become some “Julie and Julia”  by doing something new every time, but for some reason I feel like repeats are lame. Maybe I’ll just pick one thing out of a meal for a repeat. Oh I don’t KNOW! No wonder I never get my posts written!

For this meal, I actually followed a recipe. Well *almost*. It’s called Tabbouleh with Garbanzos.

But I don’t call it Tabbouleh. Because for those who don’t know what Tabbouleh is, I feel that the name can cause one to flip the page (or click the button) too fast. Or glaze over. Or ignore it. It’s like Falafel. I sort of say, “hmmmm…” and move on. To avoid that fate, I call this recipe:

Bulgur Wheat with Garbanzos.

So there.

Tabbouleh is made with bulgur wheat. And what is bulgur wheat? It takes like yummy, nutty rice. But tabbouleh is also made with lots of chopped parsley, which I never planted this year, therefore my recipe is not really tabbouleh after all. My recipe was adapted from Lynne Rossetto Kasper’s Free Weeknight Kitchen emails that I receive each week. They are always inspirational, whether I cook them or not. Plus, I get to absorb all her knowledge and experience without having to listen to her podcast, which I never seem to have time for anymore.

We’ve had about the most humid and stinky summer that I can remember. But then, I can’t seem to remember anything any more, so that might not be saying much. Suffice to say, turning on the oven or the stove doesn’t sound like a good idea.

Oh, I forgot to tell you that we didn’t have air conditioning for a few weeks, due to that pesky lightning strike. Or did I tell you? I can’t remember… Isn’t this fun?

Never mind. the point is that you don’t need to cook ANYTHING!

Well, wait a minute. You do have to boil 2 cups of water, but you could do that in the microwave if you wanted.

Bulgur Wheat with Garbanzos

• 2 cups bulgur wheat
• 1/4 cup olive oil
• 1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
• 1 t salt
• ground black pepper
• a few pinches each of cardamom, ground coriander, cumin and cayenne
• 1 large clove garlic, minced or pressed
• 1 tomato diced
• 1 cucumber, peeled and diced
• 1 small onion, diced (about 1/2 a cup or more)
• 1 can garbanzo beans, drained
• 1/3 – 1/2 cup toasted pine nuts
• 1/3 – 1/2 cup craisins (dried cranberries)
• 1/2 cup (or whatever you can find that your husband didn’t weed whip) chopped fresh mint
• 1/2 cup (or whatever you can find that hasn’t gone to seed) chopped cilantro
• 6 large leaves of fresh basil. Don’t cut until ready to serve or it will turn black

Put bulgur wheat in a large bowl and add 2 cups of boiling water and stir. Let stand 30 – 60 minutes. (if there is standing water after that time, drain it before proceding)

In a small bowl add lemon juice, salt, pepper and garlic. Whisk in the oil to make an emulsion. Add the spices which of course are optional if you don’t have them. Never, I-repeat-never, make a special trip to the store.

Add the tomato, cucumber, onion, garbanzos, toasted pine nuts, and craisins to the bulgur and stir with a fork. Add the mint and cilantro and drizzle the dressing and stir well. Before serving thinly slice the basil leaves and sprinkle over the top.

Salad can be served room temperature or cold.

I swear to God, even my kids liked it. I simply could not believe it. Maybe it was the heat that addled their brains?

I do know that — traditionally at least — the Dog Days are in August. When I was a kid, I thought “Dog Days” literally translated to: “When the scum on the lake grows so thick you can no longer swim.”

Seriously. I really did think that.

It isn’t is it?

Maybe I shouldn’t [...]]]>

All Activity Suspended Due to Heat

I do know that — traditionally at least — the Dog Days are in August. When I was a kid, I thought “Dog Days” literally translated to: “When the scum on the lake grows so thick you can no longer swim.”

Seriously. I really did think that.

It isn’t is it?

Maybe I shouldn’t act like I know it all…

But I do know it all. So let’s stop pretending I don’t, shall we?

Anyway. I declare that the Dog Days of Summer are NOW. Why? Because in Minnesota where I live, it is currently 93 degrees and something like 83% humidity. Maybe it’s more. I don’t know. I don’t care. What I care about is the fact that my air conditioning at home does not work.

No, it’s not stressed or taxed or anything like that. It got hit by lightning. Actually the chimney got hit by lightning and various amenities inside the house are suffering the consequences. Things like my oven. And more sadly, my air conditioning.

I can’t complain too much though, since I hardly EVER use it. Hardly, hardly ever. But when I do? You know it’s bad out. And right now, it’s bad out.

And in:

Yep. That’s the temp in my living/dining/kitchen area. The basement thermostat reads 81 degrees and — get this — 83% humidity. I didn’t even know that was possible.

Charlie is at tennis and I’m cooling my heels at Caribou with a hot latte. Seriously. I forgot to say “iced” and the lady behind the counter actually believed that I was dumb enough to want a hot latte. Needless to say, I poured it over ice.

I know I haven’t written in a while. Apologizing for not writing regularly is something I swore I would never do. And I won’t. But complaining about my life? That’s fair isn’t it?

This is the time in my year when I just about dig my own grave and hop in willingly. Anything sounding better than walking through my days. It shouldn’t be this way. Especially in summer, amid beautiful friends and weather — bugs be damned. Have I told you about the bugs we have this year?

It’s not that I’m sorry to be involved with the stuff I am involved in. I want to do the stuff I do. And by “stuff” I mean volunteer stuff. But is it too much to ask them to move their events around a bit so that I’m not so overloaded every year?

Basically I’ve just been buried amid the quagmire of life. And while I love, love, love to write, sometimes it becomes just another stress in the dark recess that is my mind. And the guilt… Have I told you about the guilt issues I have?

So instead of writing, I will call Heating and Cooling 2 for the third time in as many weeks. I will re-call the electrician who missed yet another bad GFI outlet. I will call the security system people who left saying it worked fine and not 30 minutes later it started beeping at me and driving me mad. I will drive my kids to the ends of the earth for no reason at all. I will occasionally sweep the myriad of cat hair that is swirling under the bar stools. I will apologize (again) for not making dinner. I will package up and send back the “new” replacement ipod speaker that was ruined in the lightning strike that was sent all scratched up with a used cord. I will smile when people make constructive suggestions about soccer and say “Wow! What a GREAT idea! Now, who do you think might be willing to actually RUN that little project besides ME?”

And, when I get the chance, I will come back here and start writing fun stuff again.

I want to be a cat.

Even though I don’t particularly like cats all that much.

FIFA World Cup, Watertown. Minnesota. June 27, 2010

I have long been known for two things by my nieces and nephews (aside from the obvious abject sarcasm): fancy birthday cakes and themed birthday parties for Charlie in June. Given that they are mostly all grown up now, I assumed — wrongly — that they would meet my [...]]]> FIFA World Cup, Watertown. Minnesota. June 27, 2010

I have long been known for two things by my nieces and nephews (aside from the obvious abject sarcasm): fancy birthday cakes and themed birthday parties for Charlie in June. Given that they are mostly all grown up now, I assumed — wrongly — that they would meet my new passivity with joy. No more feigned excitement over winning a squirt gun for hula-hooping the longest. No more wading through a glossy coating of spit-strewn fondant to reach the cake.

Win, win. Right?

Wrong, as usual.

My niece Megan called me the day before Charlie’s birthday to ask me what ‘the Theme’ for the party was. “Really,” I asked? “Cuz if you don’t have one, I do,” she said.

WORLD CUP. You know, since just about all of the kids play soccer.

It was a great idea, I admitted. If only a little freakish because The Pioneer Woman, who I both adore and despise, because she seems a lot like me — only about ten times nicer and more sincere — recently posted something about her family playing backyard soccer something akin to the World Cup.

Whatever. I can’t let the blog-o-sphere dictate my life, can I? World Cup it was.

2 v 2. Five minute games. No prisoners.

As the hostesses, Morgan and I agreed to be partners as Team Mexico:

And were quickly eliminated.

Knowing the birthday boy’s propensity to pout when losing, we paired him with his talented Uncle Bennett and called them Team USA.

And they won.

…course, their bracket wasn’t too tough, having played Team Mexico early in Round one…

In the middle, were Team Belgium (dictated by Granny’s festive attire — don’t pay any attention to her complaining. She thought we were being too hard on her.)

Paired with her favorite oldest grandson, who had much trouble with bad reffing calls:

Team Sweden: two blond-haired blue-eyed specimens

That struck terror in their opponents with one talented striker…

…and one defensive goon.

And, the dichotomous Team Amsterdam, named for their flashy and somewhat questionable attire:

And also because, like their namesake, they entertained us all day long:

It was a hot, fun day. Tacos for dinner and home-made Buster Bars in lieu of cake, since Charlie didn’t “feel too good for cake” that day.

Also these little morsels of desire:

The Famous Bootleg:

Blend 1 can lemonade and 1 can limeade with one bunch of mint until mint is very fine. Reserve syrup in a pitcher. To make drink, add clear liquor of choice (vodka, gin or rum) with equal amount of syrup and top off with club soda and lots of ice.

Pam’s Caprese Appetizer:

My friend Pam made these for my birthday celebration, and honestly, I had never seen them served this way. I fell in love and have served this to everyone who has stepped in my door in the last two weeks. Slice mozzarella thin, add one leaf basil, top with a slice of tomato. Sprinkle with kosher salt and fresh ground pepper. Pop one after another into your mouth until you get self conscious.

But ultimately the best part of the day, aside from celebrating Charlie, himself, was watching my mom out on that “soccer field” running around like a crazy woman

Something tells me she’s not gonna like all this attention, but I just had to share these pictures. She looks damn good. She would look damn good for being almost 60, but she’s almost 70!

I get my looks from her.

Due to a serious lack of character, I never got around to planting my squash, melons and pumpkins in their dedicated patch. You may remember part of the reason why from the pictures I posted when writing about Strawberries back on June 4th. For your convenience, here is what the patch [...]]]>

Take it from one who knows.

Due to a serious lack of character, I never got around to planting my squash, melons and pumpkins in their dedicated patch. You may remember part of the reason why from the pictures I posted when writing about Strawberries back on June 4th. For your convenience, here is what the patch looked like on planting day:

Before

So, it goes without saying that it got stuck on the back burner for a while. As soon as Charlie was out of school and bored (his sister was not yet out), we went to town weeding:

During

It looked marvy.

After

Well, maybe not marvy, but then we got all that old fabric off of there (the best we could, read below) and took apart my old cold frame and then it looked marvy:

But then the rains started.

It rained all June. Buckets and buckets.

That square patch turned into a slimy, gooey, clay-ish, nightmare. While I waited for it to dry out a bit, I started the seeds in pots to get a “head start”.

I was also battling with Dave, who insisted I put down more landscape fabric to keep down the weeds. He had bought some, which — I admit — was really nice and thoughtful of him. (Have I told you that he has started being nice and thoughtful lately and it is really starting to worry me?)

But here’s the thing:

I am not convinced at all that landscape fabric keeps the weeds down in my pumpkin patch. I’ve had that patch for about 10 years now and I always have weeds. Here are my observations of fabric/plastic mulch:

• It flaps around in the wind and rips. Because nothing is placed on top of the fabric and it takes a long time for the plants to grow big, wind (we have a lot of wind) catches the seams and rips it. Weeds take over where there are rips. So I have tried burying the seams with soil. Weeds grow there, too.
• It disintegrates over time. I have tried both cheap and expensive fabrics and plastics. Given that they are exposed to the sunlight, they all fall apart after a while. The plastic rips to shreds and the fabric becomes a disconcerting mass of fibers that can’t be extracted from the soil underneath it. It’s like it’s part of the soil. It freaks me out.
• I wonder about the contents of the fabrics and plastics and what they might be transferring to the soil, plants and ultimately, our food. Now, I know that sounds a little insane and over the top, but there are days that black surface gets hot enough to fry an egg on. We’ve all heard about BPA’s and the bad stuff in our food plastics. I can only imagine what is in the stuff that isn’t food grade? And how much of it is melting into the “organic” soil of my garden?

I tell all this to Dave, who just shakes his head in dismay. (I truly drive him crazy.) I will roll over to Dave if he pushes it, but we run out of time on that particular day and the topic is shelved for the following weekend. –Which passes in a blur of a pool day on Saturday with a friend and Charlie’s birthday the next.

So, as luck would have it, I finally planted the anemic and sad, waterlogged plants last Monday while I was alone and abandoned; Dave had taken the kids and some friends to the brand new outdoor Twins Stadium — with Champions Club tickets, no less (fodder for another post). For those of you keeping track, that was June 28th. In an area with only about 150 growing days in the best of times. And when you plant pumpkins and melons later than other plants, because they only tolerate warm soil (subtract 30 days), that usually puts me at a planting date of June 1 for those plants.

Nope. I’m almost 30 days past that. And pumpkins and squash take at least 100 days to reach maturity. I’m cutting it close. Oh well.

It looks pretty weird to have this gigantor area of dirt that isn’t all black and crumbly and beautiful. I guess that just shows what my dirt looks like after being covered up with landscape fabric for years, Dave!

Actually, it’s because we have clay soil and this area hasn’t been amended like the regular garden has. I don’t have enough compost to put over the entire patch, plus, it really was mostly covered by fabric for years. I usually only amend the individual planting holes. Which is what I did this year:

And, hopefully after being in some real dirt, instead of a rain-soggy pot, these sad yellow plants will perk up and take off.

It’s Never too late, I tell you. You’ll see.

I’m not deluding myself to think this is anything special or original. I’ve just promised to chronicle the journey and here we are, two weeks behind the calendar year (I should be on Meatless Monday Twenty Five. Twenty Six if you are counting tonight.)

We’ve eaten those meals, mind you. I just haven’t written [...]]]>

Chipotle Style Bean Burritos

I’m not deluding myself to think this is anything special or original. I’ve just promised to chronicle the journey and here we are, two weeks behind the calendar year (I should be on Meatless Monday Twenty Five. Twenty Six if you are counting tonight.)

We’ve eaten those meals, mind you. I just haven’t written about them. And WHY haven’t I written about them? Because I forgot to take any pictures. Maybe I’ll throw up a post about the walleye fish fry. (that sounds sick: to “throw-up” a post. But I actually quite like it, so I’m leaving it.) The fish was amazing. I just gobbled it all down and realized too late, the error of my ways.

This is the meal we ate a week ago today. On a busy soccer night. After a string of days eating out. Fried junk food type places. Well, not really junk food, but regular eat-out food: reuben, fries, burgers, yuck-o. No, not yuck-o. Yummy. But yuck-o when you look back on it.

So it was with wearisome predictability that Dave demanded (no, not demanded. but that’s what it seemed like to me when he asked “what are you making for dinner?” that’s a demand in a passive-aggressive way, isn’t it?) a meal at home.

Good Lord, like I should know what we are having for dinner! And a Meatless Monday dinner, no less.

So it was to be:

Bean Burritos with Fresh Salsa, Cotija and Cilantro-Lime Rice.

For the Cilantro Lime Rice:

Make according to directions, but also add the juice of one lime and 2 teaspoons each of cumin and salt (for 2 ricer-cooker size cups of uncooked rice). After the rice has cooked, immediately fluff and stir in 1/2 cup chopped cilantro.

For the Fresh Salsa:

Chop a large (or a couple small) good tomatoes. (I still had the one from that dead vine a week before). Finely chop about 1 small onion, more or less to taste. Chop 1/2 cup cilantro. Stir together with the juice of 1/2 lime, salt, pepper, a few dashes of hot sauce. A chopped avocado takes it to perfection. I just didn’t happen to have one. A dash of chili powder can be good, too. I didn’t add that this time though.

For the Beans:

Open a can of Kuners Southwestern Black Beans with Cumin and Chili spices. Add some cheese and microwave till hot.

For the Cotija:

Crumble.

Chop some lettuce and assemble burritos.

Try to talk your two kids into trying some fresh salsa.

No? Then I’ll eat it all. Thank you very much.

And while I’m at it, I will have one of these:

Honest to Pete, don’t the makers of Corona (aka Coronita) know their beer looks like insipid pee? Yuck! I chose the Coors Light, the color camouflaged by the brown bottle. But isn’t that Coronita cute?

I just replied to about a months worth of comments. I’ve been so buried here in soccer land I can’t even tell you. But here’s the great thing: it’s almost over! Yes, I do feel a little bad about saying that, but never-the-less, I am happy about [...]]]>

I’m too lazy to go look what number it is.

I just replied to about a months worth of comments. I’ve been so buried here in soccer land I can’t even tell you. But here’s the great thing: it’s almost over! Yes, I do feel a little bad about saying that, but never-the-less, I am happy about it. I am also happy that my kids’ teams have each had 2 wins this year. Never-to-before in all the years of soccer have we won games. No, I’m not kidding about that. We are farm kids playing the big league, affluent suburbs. So any win is a huge win. So that part has been fun. Reffing, rain, rescheduling games, rice-paddy fields, coaching dramas… that stuff? Not so much… ENOUGH!

I think it’s Meatless Monday Twenty Four? Anyway, who cares. Just know that this one contains shrimp. Because even though there are some die-hards out there who don’t consider shrimp meatless, I, in fact, do.

Let me just ask this before going any further: Is it only me, or are enchiladas a real pain in the pooper? So many tedious little steps…

BUT FOR THE GLORY OF THE TASTE I WILL TAKE ON THE TEDIOUS!

These are fabulouso!

Shrimp & Cotija Enchiladas with Salsa Verde

(serves 5, with two enchiladas each) (why 5? Because that’s what fit in the pan) (please, please, please don’t think any of these measurements are holy. Use what you have. Substitute what you don’t.)

• about 40 uncooked medium shrimp, peeled & deveined
• 1 t cornstarch
• 1 t cumin (for marinade)
• 1 t chili powder
• 1 pinch ground coriander
• 1 T sesame oil (yes, this is odd for a mexican dish, but trust me on this)
• 1 cup — more or less — of salsa verde (I had canned from garden, but also use store bought)
• 1/2 cup plain yogurt
• 1 cup chopped cilantro, divided
• 1 cup chopped green onions divided
• 1/2 red onion sliced thinly, then cut into quarter rounds
• 1/2 cup chopped green pepper or poblano.
• 1 small hot pepper, chopped, use amount to taste
• 2 T chopped fresh oregano or 1 T dried
• 1 t cumin (for cooking)
• 10 corn tortillas (freshly bought, non refrigerated is best)
• 6 oz crumbled Cotija cheese (about 1/2 a block of it)
• sour cream, chopped tomatoes, lettuce & avocado for garnish

Preheat oven to 35o.

In a shallow dish combine shrimp with corn starch, cumin, chili powder, coriander & sesame oil. Set aside for 30 minutes to an hour. (mix it up. I hadn’t yet in this photo)

In a shallow dish (pie plate, which I transferred to after this photo was taken), combine the salsa verde with the yogurt, most of the green onions and 1/2 cup of the cilantro.

In a large saute pan, heat about 2 T of oil. When hot, add the onions and saute for about 2 minutes until softened. Then add the peppers (both hot and mild), oregano and cumin. Cook over medium heat until fragrant and softened, about 4 minutes. Add the shrimp and any accumulated juices to pan and cook, stirring constantly, until shrimp just turn pink. Don’t cook any further than that.

*optional: I hate to leave any flavors lying around, only to be washed down the sink. If you are using a cast iron pan like I did, you might have some crusted on deliciousness after cooking the shrimp. Add about 1/4 c water to pan and scrape up browned bits until pan is clean. Add this to the salsa verde.

For the tortillas: this is a constant torment for me. Enchilada recipes ask you to do various things with corn tortillas as a first step to assembling enchiladas. Some say to fry briefly in oil, then to coat with your sauce. Some say to heat briefly in a damp towel in either the microwave or the oven. I don’t know if it is the tortillas we have around here or what, but those processes are both a pain in the butt, and disastrous for me. The tortillas get too soft and fall apart. I have found that if I use the corn tortillas available in on the shelf and not the refrigerator section of the grocery store, and I haven’t refrigerated them for weeks, I don’t have to do anything to them. If, however, I only have refrigerated tortillas in the house, I will grudgingly perform the fry-in-oil step first because otherwise they are too hard and will crack as you roll them.

With that said, do what you need to do in order to be able to roll your tortillas without them cracking.

In a 9×13 pan, spread a thin layer of your salsa verde sauce over the bottom. Take a tortilla and dip both sides into the salsa verde mixture. Then, place 4 shrimp and some of the onion/pepper mix onto the center of a tortilla, top with about 1T of cotija and roll up. Place in pan seam side down. Repeat with the rest of the tortillas.

Top with remaining sauce and any extra shrimp, onions and cheese you have. Bake at 350 for about 20 minutes.

Remove from oven and sprinkle with remaining 1/2 cup of cilantro and green onions, then serve with bowls of sour cream, chopped lettuce, chopped tomatoes, avocados and any other delicious condiment you can think of.

Swoon over your own brilliance.

Check off one more Meatless Monday.

I keep notes, I write this stupid blog. And still, I make the same mistakes over and over.

What, pray tell, was I thinking in March when I created this mess?

Actually, I know what I was thinking when I planted shelling peas two rows wide followed by sugar snap peas weeks later, three rows wide. I was [...]]]>

I keep notes, I write this stupid blog. And still, I make the same mistakes over and over.

What, pray tell, was I thinking in March when I created this mess?

Actually, I know what I was thinking when I planted shelling peas two rows wide followed by sugar snap peas weeks later, three rows wide. I was thinking: “Shell peas are planted earlier than snap peas. Therefore, it shouldn’t be a problem telling them apart because the shelling peas will mature a lot faster. This will be great!”

Pea Fail.

I planted the shelling peas a full three weeks earlier than the sugar snap peas.

The sugar snap peas are ready now.

The shelling peas are ready now.

I can’t tell the damn difference!

See? Here is a side-by-side comparison:

Yes, yes, the pizza crust is somewhat easier to identify. The shelling pea compared to the sugar snap pea though? Not so much.

So we’ve got a big bowl of them on the counter. I offer them to guests and say, “Just bite into them. If the shell isn’t juicy and sweet, here, spit it into this bowl.”

But keep the peas!

And now, some useful gardening information:

How not to plant sugar snap peas.

Gardening books will tell you various things about planting peas. I don’t consult books very often anymore unless I have a real problem, but I am quite positive that I read this in a gardening book: it is a good idea to plant peas in wide rows (meaning instead of a single row of individual pea seeds, you plant 3 or 4 rows of pea seeds closely) since the vines will help hold each other up. I have done this religiously every year. Because:

1) it makes sense, and

2) it allows me to plant more peas in a smaller space.

It is 2010, I am writing this post so that I remember NEVER to follow that advice AGAIN!

Here is the mess planted that way:

Half are falling down (thanks to Lola, the pea-loving dog. She’s like a migrant dog, working her way from crop to crop as they ripen):

Now, I finally know better, because this year, in addition to planting them that way, because I had leftover sugar snap pea seeds, I stuck them in a single row along the back fence behind the garlic. You could say that was a bad idea too, since the tall vines now shade the garlic more than I’d like (let’s just forget that part for a minute), but I prefer to think of it as a surprise success.

Because, these peas, planted in a single row, are a dream to pick. Easy. Fast. Healthy. Not falling over. And in the end, I bet I’ll harvest more from them, too, since I can actually find them.

Lola can find them too. She camps outside the fence and pulls them through the fence holes. But at least that way, she can’t pull the whole vine down, which is another bonus.

All I have to do now, is to remember this for next year…ha!

Just pick one and commit.

Kids are out of school. At our house that means that I attempt to include them in the household chores. Now, I could go on and on about the various angles I have taken over the years on this subject. But I can tell you this:

None of them are [...]]]>

Or Deadhead Your  Kids.

Just pick one and commit.

Kids are out of school. At our house that means that I attempt to include them in the household chores. Now, I could go on and on about the various angles I have taken over the years on this subject. But I can tell you this:

None of them are fool proof.

Not punishment, not reward. Not the very real threat of death.

The last couple years I have settled on a list. I write down about 4 or 5 things that need doing, that won’t require an hour of my time explaining, troubleshooting and overseeing. Let me tell you, that doesn’t leave much. They each get their own list which results in about 30 minutes of insane bickering. That is when an audio book and headphones comes in handy.

Anyway, I haven’t quite settled into the routine yet. I’m suffering a powerful lack of motivation. No motivation, even, to crack the whip with the kids. However I did manage, a couple days ago, to get them to go out back behind the barn to cut off the dead peonies. I armed them each with a set of pruners and a rubber tub. It took them less time than I thought it would have, and they dumped the trimmings into the compost pile. Of course, they were supposed to put the buckets away and I found one blown into the weeds and the other on top of my baby bush bean plants, but all in all, I was pretty happy.

That was two days ago.

Today, I went out back to deal with chickens and saw this.

Aside from the Weber, which has no business being there (same goes for the OxiClean bucket), the view made me gasp. My peonies! What happened?!

I asked the kids to “dead head” the peonies. Clip the dead flowers off. Make sure they weren’t drooping over the wall…

What in tarnation?

[Aside: my distinct Western Twang is on account of the book I am reading. I'm a "Method reader" -- taking on the language and characteristics of my protagonists. Therefore today, I am Sarah Agnes Prine of Sarah's Quilt. If you are new to this site, don't worry, I'm almost done with the book. Then I'll go back to my Minnesota accent.]

It was a bad year for peonies through and through.

It was a really bad year for my peonies.