Archive for October, 2009

Our Hardy Ancestors II

Wednesday, October 7th, 2009

twin-lakes-68

You know what all these guys had in common? (Well, besides a gene pool and a fish dinner.)  They all liked cake. And, they all liked bacon. These “Hardy Ancestors” posts are dedicated to recipes that had their best days a lifetime ago, with my great-grandfather (an HA if there ever was one)  at the far left on the sofa. Days when food was abundant if you didn’t mind the lack of variety, and work was hard and long enough that you didn’t. And then there was dessert.

My father liked a “planned dessert”. I don’t think my mother had ever heard of such a thing growing up, but it was an ongoing topic of discussion at the dinner table all their married lives. A planned dessert implied something thought out and prepared long before the meal: apple pie, butterscotch layer cake or bread pudding studded with raisins and served with hard sauce. The category did not include ice cream, store-bought cookies or instant pudding. Occasionally there would be a recipe that would satisfy both husband and wife – the perfect blend of yin and yang for ingredients, formality and ease of preparation. I give you:

Cinnamon Bacon Sponge

1 egg, beaten, 1/2 C sugar, 1/2 C molasses, 1/4 C melted bacon fat, 1/2 C boiling water

1 tsp soda, 1 tsp cinnamon, 1/2 tsp salt, 1 and 1/8 C flour (a heaping cup)

Mix the bacon fat with the boiling water. Stir, and when slightly cooled add the egg and sugars. Add to the dry ingredients and mix well. Place into a greased 8 x 8 pan an bake 35 to 40 minutes at 350. Serve with whipped cream.

I like to add chopped apples or raisins, and I use the pan drippings from our best pepper bacon for extra kick. Bon appetit!

Pesto

Monday, October 5th, 2009

Against all odds, we had a fairly good crop of basil this year. The wet spring set it back but the prolonged drought and intense heat in August made for bushy plants with bright green glossy leaves. I grow Genovese and sacred basil. They are markedly different plants, but a few leaves of basil o. in the Genovese makes for a smart, almost lemon accent. I also make incense of from the sacred basil; dried, crumbled and mixed in a paste of white beeswax to make small,  very potent cones.

So, the other night (just ahead of the freeze warning) I harvested all the plants at once and set out to make pesto for the winter.

pesto part I I don’t use pesticides and I’m in a fairly rural area so I don’t wash the leaves. I shake off the dust from our gravel road and rub the branches gently with a dish towel and they’re ready to go. If you do have to wash the plants, let them hang dry before continuing.

I make a huge batch of very plain pesto at the end of the season – basil, olive oil and sea salt – and pack it in to freezer jars. Later, as I use a jar in a recipe, I may add garlic, pine nuts, white wine vinegar, walnut oil, etc.

Use scissors to cut off the tough ends and blossoms. Dump the good parts into your food processor, add about 1/4 C olive oil and process until blended – but not yet pureed. Then add another batch of leaves, another 1/4 C of oil and some sea salt. Process until smooth, adding more oil if necessary. The processing time will vary based on the water content in the leaves and the amount of stems. You can do this in a blender, but it takes much longer and requires more oil. Pesto is actually the reason I have a food processor – I get along fine without a clothes dryer or a dishwasher, but I can’t make pesto without a Cuisinart.

pesto 2It should look like this, and smell divine. You can be very ’70’s about this and freeze it in ice cube trays (pop the cubes out as soon as they are frozen and seal them in a plastic bag to avoid drying). I like to use the freezer jars from Ball. They’re stackable in the freezer, the lids screw down tightly, they clean up well and I’ll like them even better when I find them made of recycled materials.

You’ll end up with an odd amount – too little to fill a jar. I suggest orrechiette (little ears) with chopped broccoli, Parmesan  and tons of pesto, and a little bit of crusty bread.  Just the thing after a long afternoon of putting food by.