Smithy

I know you've posted this trick before, but it bears reiteration anyway. I think it's a great idea.

That looks delightful, Kim! You sent me down a rabbit hole looking for the recipe(s). For those who also would like to know more about them, here is a link to @Lisa2k's original post. In a later post, she notes that the actual recipe is in her blog, linked in her signature. Ah, here it is.

Speaking as a host, I think the best thing we can do to stay true to the original intent of this foodblog (documenting the acquisition and sharing of food during a time of short supply and stress) is to simply...wait...and stop with the political speculation. It's difficult, I know. We're all worried about her. But even with the more relaxed rules that apply to food blogs, this has strayed far from food.

Thanks for that! I borrowed the book from the library last fall, liked it very much but never had time to cook from it. It'll be nice to have a mobile copy, now that I'm on the road and running at a somewhat slower pace.

The pie is beautiful, and the pie dish is a real find! It looks as though you baked the pie directly in the dish. Did you use the cover for any of that? I can see how that might help control browning and crispness. Whether that would be good or bad is another question.

I had forgotten that "lay low" aspect of @Panaderia Canadiense's position. Thanks for the reminder. If she's reading, she's going to see a whole lot of hopes for the best for her - including mine.

Please do that ravioli, and post about it! It would be an additional incentive for me to get cracking on ravioli-making again. There's no access to crab for us, though. Well, maybe I could find some at a grocery store, which is where we got our asparagus.

Although we got the camp stove working, I opted to use the kitchen last night for its better light and the need to stage multiple ingredients. I used the last of our smoked salmon from Northern Waters Smokehaus at home, and several other items that needed using up, to make one of our favorites: smoked salmon alfredo. It's almost a one-pot dish, although if you count the pasta-boiling pot it really takes two. Salt and pepper and extra grated cheese, as we wished, were added after the photos. This time, I did not dump half the contents of my salt grinder into my serving. This was the view from our deck before I started cooking. If you look very carefully, you can see Venus framed by the branch circle in the middle of the photo, and Jupiter higher and to the left. Saturn is out of the frame, but about the same distance in line with the others. It's as fine an illustration of the plane of the ecliptic as I can imagine.

Pistachios? Almonds? Walnuts would certainly work.

OK, so after a day of weighted pressing I haven't got much juice out of the frozen, now thawed, tunas. Should I squeeze harder? (I don't know what I can do, if so.) Should I refreeze and rethaw, on the possibility of more cell breakdown? Or should I steam in the Instant Pot? Or pressure cook in the IP? Or boil, or, or, ...?

That's possible. The article said that the fruit will disappear into mush if it is soft-ripe. I wonder about the astingency in typical Hachiyas if they aren't dead-ripe, but the article says either will work. I guess we'll all just have to try it, won't we?

Since the Hachiyas need to be cooked anyway, do you think you'd prefer them to the Fuyus in this torte?

@kayb, thanks! Did you substitute some of the fruit puree for some of the milk?

I bet persimmon puree and walnuts would do well in that. Is it a recipe you'd care to post?

Last night should have been cooking outside. We had thawed some of his favorite "superburgers" -- half hot Italian sausage, half beef, with a generous amount of chopped sweet onion thrown into the mix. There's a fair amount of fat in them, so we try to do them outside where there won't be so much spatter. We do them in a pan so as not to lose the fat to the fire. It was not to be. Couldn't get the camp stove to light. There's plenty of fuel, and plenty of pressure, so our best guess is a problem in the burner somewhere. We'll try troubleshooting later. Maybe compressed air through the tubing will clear it? In the meantime, I cooked it atop the stove in the Princessmobile, with a spatter guard to contain the mess. The corn was a package of smoked corn my DIL did last fall. That's gooood stuff. He put his burger into a sandwich, but I didn't bother with a picture. I ate my burger patty with dabs of mayonnaise and mustard. Not very photogenic, but oh, so tasty. Edited to add: we just tried the campstove again, and it lit and ran without trouble. Go figure.

The next dish was the Caramelized Carrot Salad with béarnaise, thyme, and bitter & sour greens. "How many of you think a salad has to involve lettuce or some other green vegetable?" he asked, and went on to say that most people do...but that there are plenty of other ways to consider what constitutes a salad, and that other preparations can be made in advance to better effect. As he chatted, he used a vegetable peeler to slice large carrots into long planks. I didn't get a shot of that part, for some reason. The planks were thick enough to hold together, thin enough to bend; maybe 1/8" thick. Then he rolled them into a tight coil, overlapping each plank with the next by an inch or two, and tied them with twine to keep the coils together before they were cooked. This is the best shot I could get of that stage; it's extracted from an overhead mirror shot. He turned the heat on to medium-high heat and added what looked like 2 pounds of butter, along with an equal quantity of olive oil, to a pan. He laughed at our gasps at the quantity of butter. "None of you is a vegan, I hope!" he grinned. Someone commented on the cholesterol, I think, and he quipped that "if you come to my restaurant, you'll eat well. You can worry about dieting some other time!" The fat needs to be deep enough to baste the carrot "steaks" while they're caramelizing on the bottom. After they were caramelized on the bottom, he flipped them and added garlic and thyme to the pan. The basting continued until the carrot "steaks" were fork-tender. At this point the garlic, carrot steaks and thyme were removed from the butter/oil combination. The fat could be used for another purpose. The thyme was discarded. All this work, he noted, could be done a day or three in advance, and then the final steps done the day of the feast. The beauty of this kind of salad is that it keeps well. How well does a green salad keep, if it's done days in advance? For service, the steaks and garlic cloves went into a 400F oven to roast for 7 - 10 minutes. After that the twine was removed and the garnishing / plating began. He put béarnaise sauce on each plate, then put a carrot steak and several garlic cloves atop the sauce. The garnish was a small bouquet of the baby sour greens he used for nearly everything: the greens were baby arugula, sorrel, and other greens I've forgotten. This dish was brilliant enough that I bought a new sharp vegetable peeler ("they're 5 bucks on Amazon," he noted, but I bought one that night at the Blue Heron for a couple bucks more than that) to try making this at Thanksgiving. If it goes well, I'll do it again at Christmas.

First up: steelhead tartare with saffron aioli, roe and sourdough rye bread. The sourdough rye bread is from The New Scenic Cafe and was not part of the recipe batch. The roe came from a local (Lake Superior) fishery, but I apparently didn't write down the fish. Whitefish, I think. This is one of the things I'd like to pick up from the restaurant sometime if possible. You can just see it peeking out from under the baby bitter greens that he used as garnish. The steelhead tartare was diced finely, then combined with olive, sesame and white truffle oils, minced shallot and garlic, dried thyme, chopped chives, and a touch of salt and pepper. ("Would any of you make this?" he asked as we eagerly ate the samples passed out to each of us. Heck yes, we would!) The saffron aioli had a beautiful color, as you can see, and the delicate note of saffron added to it. His instructions are clear and careful. He provided mixed drinks to go with each dish as a companion, but cautioned us sometimes to go easy because one drink had to go with two dishes. None of them was alcoholic. He laughed when someone asked if that was typical for the restaurant. "Oh no," he said, "we serve alcohol there." These drinks were good without the alcohol. (In past classes there has been wine available; of four classes I took this fall, none offered wine. Rules must have changed.) My drink notes are, unfortunately, sketchy even though no alcohol was involved. This first drink I documented, however; it was called a Bloody Swede. Strained Bloody Mary mix; pickled beet juice; ice; garnishes of dill, lemon and a dill pickle spear. At the restaurant the drink would also include aquavit. It was delicious! The tart flavors played nicely off the steelhead tartare and its accompaniments. I loved the way the pickle picked up the beet juice stain. I wanted to snatch away the uneaten pickle spears from some of my classmates, but restrained myself.

One of my favorite stores in the Duluth, MN area is The Blue Heron Trading Company. One of my favorite restaurants in the area is The New Scenic Cafe. Therefore, when the Blue Heron offers a cooking class taught by Scott Graden, chef and owner of the New Scenic, that class is not to be missed. Most classes fill up within a day of being announced; Scott's classes typically fill on the very day of announcement. I was lucky enough to get wait-listed and fill in on a cancellation. I've taken a class or two of Scott's before. He is funny, interesting and creative, and he engages well with his small audience. His classes are clearly taught, with recipes, and they always seem accessible in the sense that those of us attending the class can do the same thing. As a bonus, he always makes it clear that small quantities of things not readily available to the home cook can be gotten "from the back door" of the restaurant if we come and ask: a little butter, some herring roe, sourdough starter. (Just don't ask for too much, or do it too often!) I've never tried it but if I'd had time before we left for the winter I'd have done so. This September's class was titled "New Scenic Feast" and one of its main points was to show that a fine and elaborate feast can be prepared in advance for a large or small gathering, to minimize fuss on the day of the holiday. You can enjoy the wine (beer, whatever) with your guests instead of tearing around like a crazy person and missing the fun. Much of the menu he presented was something that he and his staff had prepared for 300 guests at a festival the following weekend. Instead of making this a single long post as I am prone to do, I'm going to post in stages. It will help me clarify my memories, and give readers a chance to comment or ask questions as we go along. Here are some teaser photos, starting with the menu. Scott Graden, in the Blue Heron's classoom kitchen: One of the drinks he provided to pair with an appetizer:

Here are some bettter shots from our current setup. One of the unusual features of this trailer is the side deck that folds down, with sliding glass doors to allow sun into the living area. This is one of my favorite features of the trailer. The deck is a good place to hang out in the sunshine (or shade), sitting and listening or reading. The stargazing last night was wonderful until the moon rose. On the other side of the trailer (bottom half of the picture above) you can see the room glides that move out to make living space when we're parked. At the back of the trailer is the ramp that allows us to get the wheeled toys out of the "garage" when we're parked. The ramp can be set to a level position, as it is here, for a rear deck. This also has an awning and rail, if needed.

I found a patch of prickly pear cactus loaded with fruit (tunas) and have harvested some for the juice. I picked about 30 and froze them, with the intent of following instructions given me on the Camping, Princess Style topic here and here. Now they're rinsed and draining for the second step. @lemniscate chimed in with a steaming operation for the juice instead, here. Next time I'll try that for comparison purposes. So far, the things I've learned are: 1. use metal tongs, not silicone, to harvest the tunas if possible; otherwise you'll spend precious time removing glochids (very, very fine small spines from the fruit) from the silicone when you're done; 2. immediately discard the plastic bag (or box, if you use that instead) into which you collected the tunas, instead of reusing it for something else; otherwise, you'll spend precious time removing those glochids from your fingers.

The frozen tunas are rinsed and draining into the tallest bowl I could find, with a standard footed colander to provide some space between the juice and the pulp and a fine-mesh colander inside that one to block more of the glochids. Per @Shelby's suggestion, I've started discussing this operation in the Foraging for favorites topic, here. Note to self: if you harvest the fruit into a plastic bag, discard that bag immediately after dumping it. Do not plan to reuse it, because it's loaded with glochids. Those teeny devils are darned hard to spot and grab with tweezers! I've made enough room in the freezer to start a fresh batch of ice. My darling should be happy.

@Kim Shook, I too am in awe of your gravy...and the timing of making it. (I have a small idea of what a grab bag your visits can be. Here's hoping this is a good one. I'm sure the food will be delicious.) If I ever try making turkey gravy again -- I haven't cooked a turkey in years, and don't plan to this year -- I will look back at your tutorial and give it a try.

Indeed it was.

After we got back from Deming, we continued south to the border, and walked across to Palomas and The Pink Store. I didn't take as much time shooting photos of the contents as I have in past years, because I was On A Mission for a friend, looking for glassware. Besides, we were hungry! Still, leisure was encouraged. They greeted us at the door with a "would you like a drink?" and cheerfully brought us margaritas to carry around as we perused the store. My darling was more interested in perusing the menu. I enjoyed perusing both. I could spend hours wandering around there and still not see everything. The view from our table, looking outside to the courtyard: These gentlemen serenaded us with an extremely creative version of "El Paso". I know the song well enough to know that the rhythm and tune were off a bit, and the lyrics even more so. My Spanish is very rusty, but I'm quite sure Marty Robbins never sang about drinking tequila in the last verse! I ordered a shrimp salad - I forget where the shrimp came from - and a bowl of squash blossom soup. My darling went with some sort of burger and fries. I forgot to take a picture of his dish, but I sneaked a few fries and they were quite good. He said it was one of the better burgers he'd ever had. The squash blossom soup was supposed to be a small bowl. It was enough to be a meal on its own. Then my salad came. It too was huge. The shrimp was deliciously tender, just cooked through, with lemon and butter, I think, for seasoning. The greens, onion and cucumber were crisp and fresh, and the onion had just a slight sweet bite to it. What kind of dressing did I want with it? our waiter asked. The choices were ranch, bleu cheese, thousand island, and something else - Italian, maybe? I chose ranch dressing, and it arrived. Okay, so they don't make their own dressings. The salad didn't need it anyway. There was a lot of food, and I ended up taking half the soup home with me for that night's dinner. We floated home on the strength of a successful expedition and some excellent margaritas, and made an early night of it.

We wondered whether it was a supply vs. demand thing. Thanks for the link to hat great article! It's well-written and informative. As for Socorro ...well, give us time.