Beauty and the Beet

Pickled beet brine is one of the most beautiful colors around. In a way, the beet color and the pickled flavor don't really go together, but then some of life's most surprising combinations are the best. I pulled these beets from my garden during the rain and canned them in the same day! I looked all over for a recipe that sounded good to me. Last year, an experiment with a Martha Stewart recipe left me wondering. I had to wash the pickling spice off of the beets each time I served them, and the brine was way too strong. It's always good to learn something new from a canned experience, so I officially have a few changes to make for next year.

But before I tell you what those changes are, I bet you're wondering how these pickled pretties fared? The recipe stays. It's the perfect blend of vinegar, sweetness and pickled. Minnesota State Fair Entry? Possibly. I can see the blue ribbon now. 

As for the changes; let's start in the garden. I'll need more rows of beets. Six pints aren't nearly enough to share. I'm not saying that I won't share, but do I have to? I found out that my clay-like soil mixed with mulch, black top soil and mushroom compost will produce delicious beets. Who knew? Secondly, thinning out the beets at least once should give them room to grow! My beets crowded each other out this year, which makes for a lot of small ones. Next, I'll need to consider recipes for the "greens" ahead of time. Sadly, I tossed these out instead of "in" something - like a salad. The thought of washing off the layers of sand and dirt from so many leaves was more than I was willing to try. I did however save the red liquid from the boiling stage (pre-brine) and funnel it into an empty gallon jug. It actually turns in to a murky brown sludge. I don't think my son, 5-years, will eat the beets yet, but as a self-proclaimed "scientist" he was very happy to have more liquid for his "potions". Maybe he'll be entering the State Fair along with me.

"Gypsies, Tramps and Theives ..."

... or is it .... "tomatoes, ramps and beets?" Having a good blast of music while canning is essential. Today I've been pulling up old songs on Playlist and singing so loudly that I'm sure it still isn't loud enough to conquer my rickety stove hood fan. Next off beets -- and while I don't actually have any ramps they sure made a great addition to my canning jingle. (ramps are wild onions!). Twelve quarts total and counting. More tomorrow.

(click here for a dose of Sonny & Cher)

4 Beautiful and Spacious Quarts

The training wheels came off and I canned these four beauties all by myself! It was really fun and I have more picked tomatoes ripening inside. Last night we covered our entire garden due to a frost scare. Six blankets later, it looks like more tomatoes are on the way. It's been really nice to can in small batches.

edible Twin Cities, a Robust Read

The cover of, edible Twin Cities stopped me in my grocery shopping tracks! It said, "Hey co-op shopper, you need to make a pie!" More so the cover just got me excited about fall, pies, photography, colors, design and made me consider getting a cooler apron. The cover of this foodie magazine always features fantastic food photography and the stories inside are just as fulfilling. This Fall issue hits on a topic I recently mentioned in My Good Earth entry, canning. eTC discusses a new generation of food savers in its New Preservationists article. The writer, Zach Hawkins, starts out by sharing his experience of pitting cherries and freezing them for later use in a pie. He juxtaposes the reasons people use to can against its revival. As always eTC's writers are passionate about each topic and personally connected to the writing. 

Another attract for me is the ever-present vintage photograph on the back-inside cover. This time, it's a 1935-Jefferson Junior High School, Minneapolis, "canning project". The four young ladies, clad in full-body white aprons and matching hats, proudly prop-up a select jar of their canned goods along with big smiles. I always appreciate the connection of past and present and the simple credence of an old photograph.

As the story goes, print magazines are losing ground to on-line versions, but I wouldn't even consider reading eTC off of a monitor. I love holding this printed paradise in my hands over a good cup of coffee, slowly turning the pages and dreaming away. I like the way the pages feel and I like the way the photographs lend themselves to the printing and finishing process. I'm guessing that this pub is printed on an 80-pound matte coated stock that makes it more like a special little booklet than a cheap slick. 

Okay, and here's the icing on the cake, I paid nothing for this. I often pick up a copy at Lakewinds Natural Foods or at Gale Woods Farm. Subscriptions are available though - and I certainly won't discourage you from supporting a great publication. In fact, different cities across the country publish their own version. Time to make .. a pie? Instead, how about scones this morning? I'm afraid to be alone with a whole fruit pie today. 

(And one more thing, either this pie is really big, or this woman has a really small waist. If you want to look really thin, I guess ... just make a big pie!)

My Good Earth

Today I will be blanching tomatoes. Later in the week I'll be learning the art of canning from my mother-in-law, Arlene. It will be something to learn this survival craft of yesteryear from someone who has fed her family from her own garden for years. From someone whose mother raised her in the same tradition. From someone who grew up on a real Southern Minnesota farm during the depression.

I thought everyone had a relative who "canned" but I don't really know. My CSA farmer claims most folks don't know what canning is or think it's something someone's grandma did a long time ago. Earlier today I had visions of a much larger garden and living off of "canned" and "frozen" food from my own little patch of earth. I momentarily considered ordering extra veggies from my CSA to process in my kitchen for the long winter. Eating locally totally inspires me. It makes so much sense. Good old common sense, like good old canned tomatoes for a winter soup or a pan of Goulash. What can be better? ... Now to build a summer kitchen.