You Can Can: How to Preserve Peaches

Posted on by Sarah

I have such mixed feelings about social media. Even though I’m kind of addicted to Facebook (and when I say “kind of,” I mean “embarrassingly, to a degree I don’t even want to admit”), I hate how it has made online relationships stand in for real, face-to-face relationships. On the other hand, Facebook has the powerful ability to connect you with people you never expected to see again–even to connect you in person. Such is the case with the story of my morning spent canning peaches with Andrea.

Andrea, who I must have met around 4th grade, and I are Facebook friends. We saw each other at our 10-year high school reunion, but other than that, like most casual high school friends, haven’t kept in touch. A couple of weeks ago, she posted that she was looking for someone who can can (like “preserve food in jars,” not like “dance a la risqué 19th-century French ladies) and might be able to each her. I happened to comment that I had some experience with canning and would be available to show her the ropes if she ever wanted to drive out to my house. (We live about 45 minutes apart.) Frankly, I didn’t expect her to take me up on it. You know, that whole “Facebook is for safe, quasi-anonymous connections” idea. To my surprise, she did–and I’m so glad, because we spent this morning putting up peaches, and it turned out great!

Andrea with one of our finished products!

Not only was it fun to spend a morning with someone I go back so far with, but Andrea also has a little girl about the same age as mine. They spent the three hours or so bossing each other around playing while Andrea and I got to work. I’d like to think they absorbed something by watching their mommies commune with the spirits of homesteaders past.

Why peaches, you might ask? Peaches seemed a good choice for preserving in this heading-to-fall season….however, my car thermometer said it was 99 degrees at 8pm tonight, so I use the term “heading to fall” loosely. While it may still be hot as the dickens here in Mesa, peaches are on their way out. Soon they will be out of season, their prices will rise, and the moment for canning will have passed. To me, the point of canning is to strike while the fruit-price-iron is hot. Get the best bang for your buck with whatever you’re preserving. That way you won’t have to pay outrageous prices in order to enjoy an out-of-season food down the road. Of course, you can buy canned peaches in any season, but that’s not nearly as fun as knowing you did the work of putting them up yourself!

For our project this morning, we used the directions on PickYourOwn.com, but since you’re already here, I’ll give you the written-out play-by-play. Sorry for the lack of pictures for each step–guess I’ll never be The Pioneer Woman–but hey, if I’m canning, I must be channeling the pioneer spirit! Thanks again, Andrea, for making the drive and tackling this project together!

Peach army, reporting for duty.

Canned Peaches
From PickYourOwn.com

Ingredients:

Fresh peaches
Lemon juice or Fruit Fresh
Sugar
Water

Equipment:

Large stock pot
Tongs
Canning jars, lids, and rings

Directions:

1. Select a large quantity of ripe peaches. For canning, they should be at the same ripeness as you would enjoy eating them. We used 30 yellow-flesh peaches for a yield of 12 pints. Rule of thumb is 5 peaches yields 1 quart.

2. Wash and peel the peaches. (We tried blanching ours in boiling water to get the skins to slip off, but if the peaches are not ripe enough, this won’t always work…and it didn’t for us.) Cut into 1/4 inch thick slices and place in a large bowl. Sprinkle with lemon juice or Fruit Fresh (a canning product that protects fruits from unsightly darkening). Stir to coat all sides of fruit. This can be done ahead of time.

3. Prepare your jars by sterilizing them. If you happen to be able to run them through your dishwasher just prior to canning, they will come out sterile. Otherwise, place them in boiling water for 10 minutes.

4. Prepare your lids by placing them in a bowl of hot water.

5. Meanwhile, make a simple syrup to pack your peaches in. For our 30 peaches, we used 2 cups of sugar and 6 cups of water. Bring water to a boil, then slowly stir in sugar until it dissolves.

6. Add peach slices to the simple syrup and cook on medium heat for about 5 minutes.

7. Ladle peaches and syrup into sterilized jars (a canning funnel is a helpful tool for this). Leave 1/2 inch headspace (distance from the top of the jar). Use tongs to remove lids from hot water and place on top of jars. Screw rings over the lids until firmly in place, but not overly tight.

8. Place sealed jars in a large pot of boiling water that will cover them by at least 1 inch. Boil for 20 minutes. (This is called processing and is what allows the food inside to be shelf-stable).

9. Using tongs, remove jars from boiling water and place on a flat surface where they can remain undisturbed for 12-24 hours. As the seals pull all the way down, you will hear a small pop from each jar–it’s a wonderful sound that means you did it right! Leave the jars untouched and undisturbed for at least 12 hours. Then enjoy–now or later!

Chicken Tetrazzini

Posted on by Sarah

Here in Mesa, it’s been raining. It rained for two days in a row, which by Phoenix-area standards is nothing short of miraculous. We here in the desert tend to get extra excited by rain. We tend to think of it like that old Weather Girls song It’s Raining Men, if you take out the word “men,” as in:

“It’s raining! Hallelujah, it’s raining!”

The reason, of course, for our unmitigated joy over the mysterious wet stuff that comes out of the sky is that (being in a desert) we don’t tend to see a lot of it. I vividly remember the record dry spell of 2006. After 143 days without rain, it was as if the clouds had been saving it up and rained so hard and so much there was SNOW on Superstition Mountain. In March. When it’s usually 85 degrees and you’re hoping you remembered to take your sunscreen with you to the Renaissance Fair.

The reason I remember all of this is that I was scheduled to run a 5K at the Phoenix Zoo that day, and since apparently the race planners had not considered rain a possibility, I ended up running wearing one of the black garbage bags they passed out instead of rain ponchos.

That’s what I’m talkin’ bout. P.S. Friends don’t let friends have bangs this awful.

Garbage bag ponchos aside, I really do love the rain. And when it rains, I always crave comfort food, don’t you? So last night, after almost an entire day of rain (hallelujah!) it was time for something warm, hearty, and creamy: chicken tetrazzini, one of my favorites. I didn’t grow up eating this dish–in fact, I had never heard of it until my husband made it for me on my 23rd birthday. We were living in our ghetto first apartment with a tiny kitchen, irrepressible cockroaches, and the claim to fame that the management gave all new residents The Club car lock as a welcoming gift.

Welcome to your new home! We’re freely admitting that thugs will try to steal your car here!

Upon tasting it, I was instantly hooked. Eight years later, this meal is still in my rotation. You might look at the recipe and wonder how it could be at all flavorful, since the only spices it contains are salt and pepper, and the other ingredients wouldn’t appear to add much in the flavor department. All I can say is you’re gonna have to trust me on this one. The richness of the roux (butter and flour heated to bubbling) combined with cream and chicken broth make this a melt-in-your-mouth dish that needs no additional seasoning. Additionally, it boasts the interesting trivia of being named after the turn-of-the-century opera star Luisa Tetrazzini (who looks like she probably ate quite a bit of it in her time, if you know what I’m saying). All in all, it’s a perfect dinner for those rare and wonderful Arizona rainy days…when you have an opera singer on your mind. Or something along those lines.

Chicken Tetrazzini
(Adapted from Betty Crocker’s Cookbook: Bridal Edition)

Ingredients:
7 oz. spaghetti, broken into thirds
1/4 c. butter
1/4 c. all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. pepper
1 c. chicken broth
1 c. heavy cream or 1/2 and 1/2
2 Tbsp. dry sherry or water
2 cups shredded cooked chicken
1/2 c. grated Parmesan cheese

Directions:

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Cook spaghetti as directed on package.

While spaghetti is cooking, melt butter in a 2-quart saucepan over low heat. Stir in flour, salt, and pepper. Cook, stirring constantly, until mixture is smooth and bubbly; remove from heat. Stir in broth and cream. Heat to boiling, stirring constantly. Boil and stir 1 minute.

Drain spaghetti. Stir spaghetti, sherry or water, and chicken into sauce.

Pour spaghetti mixture into an ungreased 2-quart casserole. Sprinkle with Parmesan. Bake uncovered about 30 minutes or until bubbly in center.

Chocolate Butterscotch Blondie Cake

Posted on by Sarah

As I mentioned in my last post, someone around here had a birthday last week. (Okay, it was me.) The great thing about having your birthday right around Labor Day–or frequently on Labor Day–is that you can generally count on a three-day weekend that feels pretty much especially for your birthday. For me, any of the other three-day weekends (Memorial Day, Veterans’ Day, Martin Luther King, Jr. Day) are tinged with just a little bit of guilt for not being more patriotic and/or social justice-oriented. As in, we don’t put out the American flag on those days (we don’t have one–I know, I know, that’s no excuse) and frankly, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do for Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. All the things I’m brainstorming right now just come out sounding patronizing and offensive, so I won’t even mention them…yikes.

As three-day weekends go, then, Labor Day feels like an irreproachable freebie. It was instituted in the 1880s and ’90s (various states adopted it at various times) as a “national tribute to the contributions workers have made to the strength, prosperity, and well-being of our country,” according to the U.S. Department of Labor.

Hey, I’m a worker! …Or at least I was before I had kids, and now I work harder than ever, though I technically don’t “have” a “job” (picture this statement with Chris Farley van-down-by-the-river air finger quotes). So, see? Like I said! This holiday’s for meeeee! And you, and you, and you. Pretty much anybody who’s ever had a job.

All that to say it’s an ideal time to have a birthday. Thank you, Mom, for going into labor in that Wendy’s drive-thru in Peoria, Illinois on Labor Day weekend 1982. You were on to something: labor on Labor Day. And I must say, this birthday was a really great day. In the morning, my husband made my favorite cinnamon pancakes (eventual blog post to come about this wonderful recipe), I went to a yoga class, got to do some shopping, and made my own birthday cake. Some people say you shouldn’t have to cook on your birthday, and I’m sure that’s true for people who don’t really like to cook, but I certainly enjoyed making this cake. It’s basically two layers of blondie brownies slathered in butterscotch and chocolate ganaches. It’s like if Brownie and Cake got married and made a sweet, sweet baby. “Brownie” in the sense of “dense blondie texture,” and “cake” in the sense that it’s “stacked” with “frosting” (again, Chris Farley air finger quotes–sorry, I’ll stop). So don’t be surprised if it doesn’t come out of the oven super moist and airy like a traditional cake. It might just be better.

Chocolate Butterscotch Blondie Cake
(Adapted from Annie’s Eats, originally from Bakerella; chocolate ganache from Baking: From My Home to Yours by Dorie Greenspan)

Ingredients:

For the butterscotch brownie cake:

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
1 cup unsalted butter, softened
1 3/4 cups packed light brown sugar
1 tbsp. vanilla extract
2 large eggs
1 (11 oz.) package butterscotch chips, divided

For the butterscotch ganache:

3/4 cup butterscotch chips
6 tbsp. heavy whipping cream
3 tbsp. unsalted butter

For the chocolate ganache:

4 oz. bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped
1/2 cup heavy cream
2 tbsp. sugar
2 tbsp. water

To make the cake, preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.  Butter and flour the sides of two 8-inch round cake pans. In a medium mixing bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, and salt.  In a large bowl, combine the butter, sugar and vanilla.  Beat on medium speed until creamy.  Scrape down the bowl and mix in the eggs until well incorporated.  Gradually beat in the flour mixture on low speed just until combined.  Stir in 1 cup of butterscotch chips with a rubber spatula.

Divide the batter evenly between the prepared pans.  Sprinkle with the remaining butterscotch chips.  Bake for 25 to 30 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.  Transfer the pans to a wire cooling rack and allow to cool completely before carefully removing from the pans.

To make the butterscotch ganache, combine the cream and the butter in a small saucepan.  Warm over medium-high heat until the mixture is almost boiling.  Place the butterscotch chips in a small, heatproof bowl.  Pour the cream mixture over the butterscotch chips and allow to sit for 30 seconds.  Stir until smooth. If too runny, place in refrigerator until it thickens enough to not run too quickly off the cake.

To make the chocolate ganache, place the chopped chocolate in a small bowl.  Bring the cream, sugar and water to a boil, then pour the liquid over the chocolate and let sit for 30 seconds.  Gently whisk the mixture together until smooth.  Leave the glaze to sit until it thickens a bit to your desired consistency.

To assemble the cake, place one of the cake layers on a wire rack with a sheet of wax paper.  Drizzle butterscotch ganache over the top so that it drips over the edges of the cake.  Drizzle with a small amount of chocolate ganache as well.  Lay the remaining cake layer on top of the first and top with remaining chocolate ganache so that it drips over the edges. If desired, place remaining butterscotch ganache in a squeeze bottle and use it to decorate the top of the cake–or simply use extra butterscotch chips to decorate. Transfer the cake to a serving platter.

Couscous Cakes with Feta and Sundried Tomato Salad

Posted on by Sarah

Don’t you just love Ted Talks? I don’t know who Ted is. Maybe he’s the guy who started it all. Maybe it’s an acronym: Teaching Eligible Dummies? Topics of Entertainment and Doom? My acronym for it would be MMFS Talks: Making Me Feel Smart Talks. I for one love feeling like I’m stuffing important knowledge into my brain while sitting in my underwear in my family room. Who’s with me?

Ever since watching this Ted Talk by cookbook author/New York Times columnist Mark Bittman, I’ve become convinced of the need to cut back on our family’s meat intake. There are so many reasons for this–(watch the Ted Talk; Bittman put it much more intelligently than I ever could)–perhaps the focus of another blog post another day, but suffice it to say that since the decision to become more or less a “weekday vegetarian,” I’m always looking for solid vegetarian recipes for dinners. Or maybe you’ve noticed, since I have only posted one actual meat dish so far on this blog.

I’ve been making this couscous cakes and salad recipe for awhile now, and it does not disappoint. Hearty and healthy at the same time–my favorite kind of dinner. Actually, the only disappointing thing is that it contains no actual cake. My kids were a little bummed about that (and so was I). Not to worry, though! My birthday is in a couple of days, so I may get around to posting an actual cake recipe very soon.

Couscous Cakes with Feta and Sundried Tomato Salad
(Heavily adapted from Finecooking.com)

Ingredients:

For the dressing:

2 Tbsp. fresh lemon juice
1 Tbsp. sour cream
1 tsp. finely chopped mint
4 Tbsp. olive oil
Kosher salt and black pepper

For the couscous cakes:

1 1/2 c. dry couscous
1 15 oz. can garbanzo beans, drained
1 1/2 tsp. kosher salt
2 large garlic cloves, minced
2 1/2 Tbsp. dried parsley
4 eggs
Zest of 2 lemons
Olive oil

For the salad:

8 oz. fresh spinach
1/2 c. feta cheese
1/2 c. sundried tomatoes

Directions:

Prepare the dressing: In a small bowl, combine the lemon juice, sour cream, and mint. Gradually whisk in the olive oil. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Prepare the couscous cakes (can be done several hours in advance): Prepare couscous according to package directions. (If there are no directions, you can always remember that couscous has a 1:1 ratio with water. In a microwave-safe dish, pour 1 1/2 c. water over 1 1/2 c. couscous with a sprinkle of salt and microwave for 3 1/2 minutes. Fluff with a fork.) Meanwhile, in a large bowl, mash garbanzo beans until pasty. Add 1 1/2 tsp. salt, minced garlic, dried parsley, eggs, and lemon zest. Mix in cooled couscous until thoroughly combined.

Press the couscous mixture into a 1/4 c. measuring cup, smooth the top, and invert the measuring cup to release the cake onto a plate. Repeat with the remaining couscous mixture. (At this point, the cakes can be covered and refrigerated for later cooking.)

Heat 1 1/2 Tbsp. of olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add 5 couscous cakes to the skillet and flatten with a spatula until they’re about 3/4 inch thick. Cook, flipping once, until crisp and golden brown, about 3-4 minutes on each side. Transfer to a plate and cover. Repeat the process until all cakes are cooked.

Assemble the salad: On individual plates, distribute spinach, feta, and sun dried tomatoes. Top each salad with couscous cakes, and serve with dressing.

Makes approximately 15 couscous cakes, or 5 servings.

Summer Vegetable Soup with Shrimp and Lemon

Posted on by Sarah

Last year, I read probably the most inspiring food book I’ve ever encountered: Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life. Ever since the 5th grade, when I wrote a report on Barbara Kingsolver, I have been intrigued by this author I considered more or less local (she was a long-time resident of Tucson; I live roughly 90 minutes north in Mesa). Most people know her for her best-selling novels, but Animal, Vegetable, Miracle is a memoir of Kingsolver’s family’s journey across the country, leaving Tucson (waaahhh!) for rural Virginia, where they attempted to make a go of running a self-sustaining farm. If you have any interest in the idea of eating seasonally/locally, or wonder why some people find it worthwhile, please read this book. It, more than anything else, motivated me to make the effort to support local agriculture and eat what the seasons provide.

That being said, unfortunately, in the Phoenix area, eating seasonally can be a bit of a joke. In her memoir, Kingsolver calls February “Hungry Month” since it’s the time when (in her part of the country) plants lie dormant and nothing grows. In Phoenix–or at least in our backyard garden–Hungry Months include May through September. Then again, Kingsolver also mentions that eating locally in the desert Southwest is defined (by the powers that define these things) as within a 250-mile radius. So I guess we’re off the hook for not having to harvest dead grass for our salads during these summer months.

My point here is that, even though it’s difficult, I try–and want to keep trying harder. I get to the farmer’s market when I can, and I certainly don’t buy $6 asparagus in August or $5 strawberries in January. When I saw this soup recipe, it got me excited to bust over to my nearest Sprouts and bag up armloads of vegetables that happen to be on sale right now because they actually belong to this season. (Maybe not in central Mesa, but somewhere not too far away.) The result was fabulous. This soup, while very simple, had an unusual flavor that took me by surprise. The savory-tart combination of broth with lemon juice was the perfect background for the freshness of summer vegetables corn, tomatoes, and zucchini. Not to mention that with the veggies chopped ahead of time, it was done in 30 minutes! If you’re a year-round soup lover like me, this will make you realize that “summer soup” doesn’t have to be a contradiction in terms.

Summer Vegetable Soup with Shrimp and Lemon
(Adapted from Fine Cooking Fresh)

Ingredients:

2 Tbsp. olive oil
1 medium onion, finely diced
1 large garlic clove, minced
1 qt. chicken broth
1 c. diced tomato
2 small zucchini, cut into medium dice
1 1/2 c. fresh or frozen corn kernels
1 lb. red potatoes, cut into medium dice
Kosher salt and black pepper
1/4-1/2 lb. pre-cooked shrimp, peeled and deveined
2 Tbsp. chopped fresh herbs, such as basil, parsley, or cilantro, or a mix
Juice of one lemon

Heat the olive oil over medium heat in a large stock pot or Dutch oven. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 8 minutes. Add the garlic and cook, stirring, another minute or two, being careful not to let it brown. Add the broth, the remaining vegetables, and 1/2 tsp. salt. Simmer until the vegetables are tender, about 10 minutes. Add the shrimp until heated, 1-2 minutes. Reduce heat to low and add fresh herbs and lemon juice. Taste and season with salt and pepper, if desired.

We happened to think this was great with a side of sweet cornbread!