I’ve been missing my family’s cabin of late… I didn’t make it up there in 2010. I recently went looking on an external drive for photos for some friends and realized that I have hoards of food photos from the past couple of years that I never posted. So, here is a taste of summer as it exists at my favorite place in the whole world. Everything’s a little rustic at the cabin. Cooking is done on the grill or on a propane stove, by the light of a kerosene lantern once the sun goes down. I can think of nothing more wonderful than cooking and eating and hiking and swimming and sleeping and waking up and doing more of all of it. This is living.
I’ve been on a cookie kick. Baking late at night, multiple nights in a row. Scouring the internet for recipes that may help me approach the ultimate oatmeal raisin cookie. After a long and rewarding summer singularly focused on martial arts, I think I might be finding a balance. Fingers crossed.
Do you have a favorite oatmeal raisin cookie recipe? I’m looking for something on the soft/chewy side. The cookies pictured were a slightly modified version of Smitten Kitchen’s Thick, Chewy Oatmeal Raisin Cookies.
I headed back to my local bar with Lemon #3, the smallest of all of them. RC squeezed it for me on their fancypants old-timey juicer, and I got 1.5 Jack Rose cocktails out of it (had to supplement the juice with that of another lemon for the second). A Jack Rose is comprised of apple jack (apple brandy), lemon juice, and grenadine. I’ve only ever gotten one at Quarter, and I imagine it to be pretty gross elsewhere, because the grenadine would make it cloyingly sweet. However, they make theirs in house, and this difference turns what sounds like a nasty drink into something lighter – refreshing and delightful, even.
The first half of Lemon #4 has been juiced and zested – the zest went into the freezer, and most of the juice joined some rice wine vinegar, olive oil, dijon, and various other ingredients in a vinaigrette. I had some on a baby arugula salad with orange peppers, hard boiled eggs, blanched broccoli, blanched green beans, and the last of Lemon #1’s zest. I dumped a good amount into a spelt pasta salad for lunch a few days ago, and there was still some that made it into the fridge in the dijon jar.
The last of Lemon #1’s juice made it into a pint of rosewater lemonade (subtle, but delicious). I got a report back from D that the fate of Lemon #2 was a glut of old fashioned lemon curd… he used an old lady voice when he described making it and spreading it on toast, but apparently it was wonderful.
A wedge of the second half of Lemon #4 was used on a turkey sandwich: mendocino mustard (spicy honey mustard), arugula, sprouts, red bell pepper, cracked pepper turkey, and lemon juice. It was a quickly thrown together sandwich that was lacking something. At the very least it really could have used some tomato. The remainder of Lemon #4 was turned into lemonade (the juice) and lemon cream cheese frosting (the zest), as I recall. Man, I’m losing track, I’ll have to reference my photos. I did use up most of the lemon dijon dressing drizzled onto sandwiches and such.
Stay tuned for how I fell in love with Lemon #5, and to learn how I manage to honor the other 7 (eek!)! I’m going to have to get cracking.
A few days ago, I received a most amazing package in the mail.
I’ve received some pretty wonderful packages in my life, largely because my Pop lived nearly 2000 miles away from me when I was growing up. On most holidays, and sometimes without occasion, he would send music, artwork, articles, art supplies, and all manner of other things. I also have dear friends who occasionally send artwork.
Somehow (big surprise here) the packages that stand out in my mind are the ones that involve food. When my grandparents lived in California and had an orchard, my grandma would send me a box of fuyu persimmons every year for my birthday. I loved those boxes of fruit! One of my best friends told me recently that every time she sees persimmons she thinks of those boxes from my grandma. Eventually my grandparents moved to Washington. I cried a little when I ate the last persimmon from the last package. The orchard I credit with much of my food appreciation is now a housing development. Sad ending.
Another exquisite package was one from my friend GP, who I had told just a day or two before that I’d never had Kimbo espresso. I went into work and there was a small package that had been overnighted from him: one vacuum pack of Kimbo and an adorable single serving moka pot. I seriously cherished that thing, and that espresso too! This one has a sad ending, too: a sketchy girl was at my house with GP once, and she was apparently pretty jealous of our friendship – she stole my beloved espresso percolator after learning that he had given it to me. I was so, so bummed (and angry). Wow, I didn’t realize until now that my amazing consumable packages were so bittersweet.
Back to the package I just received (there’s still hope for a happy ending!). My friend KCC recently married into a family with a ponderosa lemon tree. Her husband’s grandfather, now 93, planted this tree sixty years ago. It bears enormous fruit, each one the size of three good sized lemons. KCC sent me twelve of these lemony dinosaur eggs late last week!!
When I opened the box, not long before midnight last Thursday, I’m pretty sure I squealed and jumped around a little. All of a sudden the room was perfumed with a lemony citron smell, and I was overwhelmed with the need to bake. I asked the internet what to make, and the internet responded: lemon olive oil cake. So, I washed, dried, and zested one of the monsters (so much zest!), and wrestled with it until I’d extracted all of the juice. Lemon #1 dwarfed my lowly manual orange juicer, and I had to keep stopping to dump the juice through a strainer into a separate container (these are fertile – so many seeds!). I ended up with just under a cup of lemon juice from a single lemon. Whoa.
I made mini cupcakes (fail – they ended up too dry), cupcakes (pretty good, probably won’t make them again), and then used some of the remaining juice to wash a few of them down with lemonade. By this time it was 1:50 (on a weeknight), and I was wide awake. Somehow I justified walking down the street to my local bar with Lemon #2*, which was gifted to D, the owner (I had mentioned them to him before, when they were en route).
Since then I’ve baked breaded chicken which I served doused with lemon juice (Lemon #1), I’ve baked lemon pepper popovers (zest from Lemon #1), and I’ll likely use the rest of the zest in a lemon cream cheese frosting (I made carrot cupcakes on Sunday). I have a bit less than a quarter cup of juice from Lemon #1.
I have ten more lemons! I desperately want to respect these and use every last bit, so I’ve been fishing around for recipes, from friends and online. Please, if you have good ones share or link to them in a comment. Of particular interest to me would be savory recipes… I’m going to kill myself with the baked goods. Only recipes that use a lot of lemon juice or zest, by the way, I’m not f*cking around with only a tablespoon of juice. Remember, I have to get through the equivalent of 30 lemons in the next week or so. Help? Thanks.
It has just occurred to me that I am the same age as Grandpa C was when he planted his lemon tree. Eek! I need to find a place to start planting fruit trees.
*As of last night, D was still scheming on how to approach Lemon #2. I will update as information becomes available.