Minnesota Comments on French Recipes

I get all excited about recreating a French dish I read about or see on TV. Then I search for recipes online. The comments or reviews are almost always complimentary, but more than often they try to improve on the original.  Here is an example:

“If you use olive oil for any recipe that’s cooked over 450°F, the oil will denature and you will get cancer. This post is irresponsible. You should only use grape-seed oil you’ve pressed yourself in a very cold room.”

Well... I, too, have some comments on my efforts.  But before I start with the culinary comments, I'd like to make a few on the homemade wines entered at the local country fair grounds.

Freeborn County Homemade Wines

Comment: We know we cannot compete with French wines, so we have to look instead for something different. Horseradish makes a statement, if not a good wine. And I would consider corncobs and wild grape fresh ingredients. We Minnesotans prefer our fruity wines, especially watermelon. And there is nothing to be ashamed of using a kit, especially if it produces coconut, chocolate or toasted caramel flavored wines. Most wine drinkers would never consider these actual wines, but this is just a hobby, so anything goes. We pride ourselves on our creativity rather than our quality. And, after all, the winning wines are showcased next to the prize cucumbers and rutabagas in the Floral Hall.

Swiss Chard and Mushroom Galette

Comment: I chose this recipe because I was wanting to use the herbs in my garden and some mushrooms that were getting old in my fridge. I substituted ricotta for goats cheese because galettes are French and ricotta is Italian. I also used ready made crusts instead of making my own for obvious reasons. The crust turned out to be the most delicious part of the dish. In the spirit of using fresh ingredients, I scrounged through my garden to find some mustard greens that weren't too bug-eaten. These were quite bitter and didn't complement the parsley, cilantro, dill and chives that were mixed with lemon juice on top. The result was something that tasted like a piece of turf. I kept forgetting that I had it as leftovers in my fridge until the hole lot had to be thrown out.

Caramelized Onion and Bacon Galette

Comment: This was a disaster. I chose this recipe because I wanted to introduce my sons to a French galette. I substituted the traditional crust for ready made pizza crust that I was hoping would entice the boys to try it. But it proved difficult to shape and fold. It ended up looking like a loaf that didn't rise properly. I have no pictures because its not something that needs to be shared on Instagram. I also found, by chance, on the clearance rack at Walmart, a jar of Bruschetta sauce. Since my son loves Bruschetta, I used the jar instead of the caramelized onions. It did get eaten, but my family was not impressed. They would have liked pizza, or Bruschetta, but not both in the same dish.

Finally, some comments on the comments made about French Onion Marmalade:

First, "Serves Many" is not a very accurate amount.  One or two jars would have been more helpful. 

Second,  what exactly is a "good quality" balsamic vinegar.  Here I am lucky to find any kind of balsamic, and paying $7 already seems too much.  Good thing the recipe didn't call for "good quality" wine.  No one in their right mind would put good quality wine in a pickle.

Also, referring to this marmalade as "Confit d'Oignon" and continually reminding us that it very expensive to buy in France does not change the fact that it is simply pickled onions fried in oil. In fact the use of "two sprigs" of rosemary seemed so measly that I added sage, curry and more rosemary.  I can't say that I will let it age like good wine.  

This recipe is good if you have lots of onions lying around, or to pull out when company comes unexpectedly and all you have in the cupboard is crackers and cheese.

There is certainly a romance that surrounds these French dishes, but let's not kid ourselves into believing that they are more than just basic ingredients cooked in fat.

OBITUARY: Hoyt Cooper Hawk

Hoyt Hawk, age approximately three months, died sometime Saturday, July 20, 2019 in the Jahnke's backyard, Alden, MN.
He leaves behind a pair of siblings of the same age and coloring. It is impossible to tell whether they are sisters or brothers, but they behave like dim-witted teenagers. He also leaves behind his parents who are becoming thoroughly exasperated at having to hunt and feed such a brood of large birds of prey.  The family's nest rests in the tallest tree of the yard and shows that Hoyt had not ventured far since learning to fly.  His usual daily activities consisted of flying from the nest to the pines, down to the woodpile and back.  This was much to the chagrin of the numerous wrens nesting nearby and other finches trying to use the centrally located bird feeder. Hoyt's favorite food was small birds and he could be seen making awkward lunges at one on the same branch. But as far as I know he never caught anything himself. He and his brothers enjoyed sitting around looking tough, but would scatter at the sound of their mother's call.

Hoyt was found dead after a bad storm passed through Alden. On finding the body it was able to be determined that he was either a Cooper's Hawk or a Sharp Shinned Hawk. They are nearly identical and hard to tell apart. Many are inclined to think he was a Cooper's, which is larger, but is in fact a threatened species and seldom found nesting in this area.  They are both woodland hawks and southern Minnesota is hardly woodland, so it is possible he was something else entirely and now will never be known.
Hoyt is quite surely not a Buzzard Hawk, because those are know to eat rabbits and rodents. This hawk was quite happy to sit within feet of the rabbits and squirrels without becoming a threat. Baby bunnies hide in the woodpile and flower beds, while squirrels attack the bird feeder.  Not once was Hoyt or his siblings seen to attempt to take one on.  Instead their parents were spotted raiding a martin's bird house and pulling the young from their nests.

It is possible that this act of his parents is part of the cause for his being persecuted and misunderstood. The whole neighborhood were perturbed to find a pair of hawks nesting above the garages and washing lines. We were scandalized to find them eating the adorable yellow finches come spring. The three chicks were shot at with BB guns and shooed away by gardeners. Despite this obvious lack of welcome, they stayed. The chicks grew and grew.  By their size you would hardly imagine them to be immature... until they were seen playing in the rain puddles like carefree kids.
Hoyt's body was discovered by a Jahnke while weeding the garden. It came as a shock after living in such close quarters for the last few months. The cause of death was unknown, but rumors of him being hit by the homeowner with a BB gun have spread. They could hardly leave his feathered body to be carried off by some other vermin, and he was laid to rest in the bed near where he dropped.  This bed is rapidly becoming a cemetery since the untimely death of a large snapping turtle took advantage of the holes being dug to landscape that part of the yard.  May they both rest in peace and fertilize the hostas.

Waiting to Bloom: The Teenage Years

It seems like everything in my garden is in that awkward teenage phase. Jon comments that everything looks very green.  That's not a compliment, he notices the lack of color.  My mother-in-law begs to let her start pulling.  "But they're just about to bloom," I say to stop her. And they are, I visit my garden everyday, looking for change. The sunflowers look scraggly, exactly like my two teenage boys, waiting to bloom. Meanwhile, the nasturtiums I grew from seed have had to put up with being nibbled by rabbits, blown over and transplanted.  It is amazing that they are blooming at all, however late. They peek out shyly from behind their leaves, afraid to show themselves.

They are not the only ones hiding their "light". The grapes hang under the biggest branches, out of sight.  I have to continually check my beans and cucumber plants or their sneaky produce goes unnoticed.
The early bloomers are also growing through an awkward stage.  Their green is fading, their flowers spent, and they grow tall and spindly.  I allowed my greens and cilantro flower and it looked glorious last week. Now it has gone to seed and been broken down by the last heavy rain.  Not knowing quite what to do with them now, I let them be and watch them. Should I cut them back or prune them? Will they come back and be productive again? Or are they done and need pulling up, and throwing on the compost heap?

I have learned that I must prune. The grapevine is notorious for growing way beyond its capabilities and our property line. I try to train it back, but eventually I end up lopping off long branches that have taken hold of the nearby pine trees. I'm told it is for their own good.  The new willow I planted late showed signs of dying. I finally cut off the yellowing leaves and dead branches.  Now I see new growth. But I still don't know if it will survive the next winter.  Life is like that: somethings survive despite their hardships, other weaken and disappear.  I have very little control, despite my controlling behavior.  Really I am just watching and waiting.
As are the young hawks that are now way too big for their nest in our tallest tree. There are three of them, I think, and all 20 inches of them look ungainly and bored. They sit around our yard, uninterested in anything, but unwilling to fly away. I imagine the parents are busy feeding them, because they don't seem to be able to hunt for themselves. They sit amongst the squirrels and rabbits like they have crashed the party. I wonder how long this will go on, before the parents kick them out.... or they decide there is something better elsewhere. Will I miss them when they go?

In many ways summer is an awkward time.  Just ask my two sons who are home, but don't really live at home. They are simply waiting for the next stage of their lives to start: to continue a degree, to start a new job.  They have no real interest in being here but have nowhere else to go. Like my garden I let them do their own thing, but continually check on them, to supply what they need to bloom.  I clean up after them and feed them.  I listen to their plans. (I do not ask them what their plans are!) They are not a summer project like all those creative ideas we get during winter and can't wait till summer to complete. They just need time to decide when to branch out and time to thicken and ripen before they truly feel ready to be on their own.  I believe they are aware that this phase is coming to an end and that there will be a time when they no longer call this address their home. Like the hawks they are not quite reached it yet.

I have two geranium plants that I potted last summer.  On a whim I brought them inside over winter and kept them alive. They didn't flower or grow, but kept me company through the seasons' changes outside.  I was surprised to find one started blooming early and straining towards the window as if it was ready to be let out despite the snow on the ground. Now that it is outside, it looks all scraggly with tall slim blooms. Its partner has only started to bloom now, in late July. It is short and squat and bushy. Both had the same attention, water and sunlight, but they chose to bloom in different places and at different times.
I have three sons:

• one is a nasturtium; never in a too much of a hurry, beautiful, yet never self promoting, and whose seeds ensure he will not be forgotten.
• another is the early blooming geranium; eager to get going, productive, dependable and direct, always the first and tallest bloom in the garden.
• the youngest is the late bloomer; calm with deep roots, leafy branches that slowly explore his surroundings, and whose surprise bloom takes your breath away. 

Prodigal Summer

There are two kinds of gardeners: those that celebrate growth, and those who attempt to control it. I am the former and have never been fully in control of my garden, just ask the rabbits! I am also wary of finally loosing the battle for control and turning to artificial turf and pavers to inflict utter domination.  My style does lead to a rather unruly yard, with beds that my mother-in-law suggests I need to "get under control." The path is overgrown and wild flowers seed themselves down. 
I cannot bring myself to rip anything out, no matter how over grown.  "Just wait till it flowers", I say, "then I'll move it." "The monarch butterfly caterpillars cannot be disturbed." And the daisies I promised to remove are still under the grapevine, intertwined and co-inhabiting.

While I am reluctant to put up a fight with nature, I am always ready to lay blame. The rabbits eat every young shoot.  The family of hawks are harassing the small birds, sending them away. The white cabbage moth is the reason I have no Brussel sprouts. The clay soil isn't good for vegetables, and the trees cast too much shade on the flower beds. The cold winters can be blamed for my lavender not thriving, and the low-lying plot water-logs the lawn causing more weeds to grow.  The grape vine bears no fruit because it is male, and the pine needles make the soil too acidic for grass.  My gardening knowledge is mainly myth or hearsay, a crux to hang my excuses on when nature goes its own way. 
I cannot blame the bunnies for everything, there are other pests, like the grapevine beetle that nibbles on my vines.  When I found three munching away Jon told me to get something to kill them. I found I was reluctant to do that. Can't I just let them eat some leaves like I am "allowing" the rabbits to eat the onions.

I don't want to start a fight I cannot win. Like my fight with the weeds. Why not let them cover the bare ground between rows of kale and tomatoes? The crab grass creates a good ground cover although it may look untidy. If they threaten to get too tall I will reconsider, but for now I let them grow. And some turn out to be petunias and sunflowers that have grown from seed. I did a poor job of thinning out my greens and they have all gone to seed displaying a whole row of delicate yellow flowers. What looks like flowering weeds to others is my prized source of the medicinal herb St Johns Wort. My herb garden is a delightful fragrant tangle of fascinating plants with names like: chocolate and pineapple mint, curry, licorice, lemon thyme, and edible nasturtium flowers. I am soft when it comes to cultivating herbs because I enjoy experimenting with each in my cooking. Even my son has discovered herb butter for steak made fresh from the garden. Whatever grows determines my cooking and trying out of new recipes.

There is hardly a bird or butterfly in the area that hasn't stopped by my yard, the hummingbirds are starting to come more often, and the fireflies light up the night. The rabbits and squirrels have moved in (literally) and are multiplying. Occasionally we have possums and ground hogs.  The toads inhabit our window wells and small green frogs lurk in the dark damp undergrowth. I have come to accept them as being part of the abundance of summer.
As are the mosquitoes... I have learned from Minnesotans that you can't beat the mosquito, it will always win out against the latest sprays and gadgets designed to repel it. But to stay inside would be to let the mosquito defeat you. So we call it a truce, go out and get bitten, but accepting the itching as part of summer. These days of abundance, light and life are numbered.  Now is the time to grow and bloom!

Weather, Whine & Dine

I sit in a lawn chair by the lake shore and shiver, then bake, depending on the variable cloud cover. I'm on vacation and loving both the change of scenery and the slowing of pace. We had steamy heat the first day, rain showers the next, sunny, then breezy and overcast. And I realize that I am OK with it all. Usually the weather sets the tone for the holiday.  Rain leads to low spirits and frustration at being stuck indoors with nothing to do. A cool breeze can make us all wish we had stayed at home and not booked a hotel and a tan. You invest so much in a vacation, and the weather can lead to a real let down.  But the poem "After a While" by V.A. Shoffstall is on the mantle to remind me that I have grown up, and am no longer that child that longed only for sunshine.

"And you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and with your eyes ahead, with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child, and learn to build all your roads on today because tomorrows ground is uncertain for plans, and futures have a way of falling down at midnight. After a while you learn that even sunshine burns if you ask for too much..."

I distinctly remember one long weekend where we had rented a beach house and invited friends. We made plans to cook delicious meals in the evening. But it rained cats and dogs, the friends canceled, and we moped around the expensive house alone... and went out to eat to relieve the boredom. 

This week we changed plans as the weather changed: Take-out pizza aboard the pontoon relieved the worst of the heat, when it rained we moved into town to go shopping, and then the perfect sunny day,( the kind you write home about) found us bobbing in the water with drinks in hand. 

Today I am reading and writing, oblivious of whether the sun in shining or not. The book I'm reading delightfully describes a group of Frenchmen cooking and eating together.  Their gathering is a mixture of ready made dishes that only need to be reheated, salad and home grown vegetables cooked in the large kitchen, bottles of wine that was opened the day before, and lots of meat.  They start with champagne while they prepare the meal. The first course is local truffle soup, then grilled pigeon, fresh from the garden salad and potatoes, local pate, bread and venison stew.  Each course is accompanied by its own wine and there is no desert.   And all of this takes place at a friend's wake! The very definition of "make the best of a bad situation."

And I too, have grown to find food a comfort and ultimately the best way to enjoy a holiday whatever the weather. Here are some DOs and DON'Ts that stick with me:

• Do start with a cocktail.  Something bubbly or fruity while you prepare gets the party started. No beer.
• Don't do chips, salsa or crackers and cheese as a starter.  They do nothing to enhance the palate or improve the appetite.
• Do have a hot starter like soup or sausage on the grill, cut into bite-size pieces and served with toothpicks. They can be cooking (and giving off an enticing smell) while you chop. My brothers would suggest chicken hearts.
• No need of starchy sides (fries, chips, pasta) Do stick to good cuts of meat cooked in the way you like best: grilled steaks, slow cooked chicken, bacon wrapped anything.
• Do keep the salad or vegetables simple. A lettuce salad with vinaigrette or grilled zucchini are easy, so is a Greek salad with feta cheese and fresh ingredients.  No pasta or potato salad. 
• Do keep the wine coming and skip the desert.  Desert takes a lot of time to prepare and doesn't do much more than signal the end of a meal.  After the main course is the time to bring out crackers and cheese, or bread to accompany the desert wine.  Linger...

Now, my family might not totally agree with my points above.  I have a vegetarian son and most of the family drinks beer whenever two or three are gathered.  In Minnesota you will find casseroles and jello salads and endless bars for desert. Here buttered popcorn takes the place of crackers and cheese at the end of a meal. But from now on, whenever we gather, I will be cooking... hopefully not alone.