snowangel

Save the cooler, the Bronco is packed. The kids are in bed, not sleeping, but awaiting tomorrow morning. I head to bed soon, so I can get up extra early and get to the Minneapolis Farmer's Market at opening (6:00 am) or shortly thereafter for sweet corn, tomatoes and green beans. Menus for Thursday and Friday include the usual bountious breakfast, noshing during the day, and venison burgers one night, steaks the next night. The crowd that will join us are in charge of dinners on Saturday and Sunday nights, and will bring additional noshing items. Weather report from Orr, MN indicates that tomorrow and Friday will be stunning -- mid-80's, and will go downhill from there. Never mind. We will have our swims, eat great food, have good company, hopefully see the northern lights. The full moon is waning, but will still be beautiful.

My few paltry tomatoes are no where near ripe. I resisted the temptation to pull the plants. But, the few spinach seeds I sowed early in August are showing promise, and my several basil plants (one Thai, the rest regular pesto-making stuff) are going strong. They have yet to bolt or sprout a flower thing. Rhubarb. When we sold our former home, I included in the purchase agreement the right to come and get some plants. So we did. One of the things I took was a rhubarb plant. It came from my folks first house in the Twin Cities, and before than from my grandparents farm. In the past few years in said former house, it didn't do a lot. So, when we moved it, we split the plant. Dug a really, really deep hole. Filled the hole with compost before planting the split plants. Bingo! I know I shouldn't pick any after the 4th of July (is that a myth), but, geez, oh peet, it is beautiful. Think I should pick just a very few stalks and take them to The Cabin and make them into a chunky syrup to put over waffles with yogurt for the coming long Labor Day weekend.

Brooks, your method is the one employed by my late, great and wonderful grandmother Iona, although she omitted the hot pepper (that Nebraska thing). If anyone is interested, PM me for a couple of recipes where you just add fresh cukes to a crock daily for a few days until ready to go. Advantage of this is when you don't have enough cukes to justify a batch of pickles in one day. The big thing with pickles is to make sure your cukes are as fresh as possible. If you can't attend to them immediately after picking, ice them down. Much as I like pickles from cukes, the green beans are the ones that really make me weak at the knees (to quote Iona).

I missed this one the first time around (started on my birthday!), mainly because I was celebrating my birthday at The Cabin as I have done for over two decades. It's not about a fancy restaurant for me. It's about the people and The Place. Growing up in Thailand, my choice was always haunting markets in Bangkok for great street food. In between Thailand and The Cabin, my mom and dad always grilled steaks, sliced tomatoes, boiled up some sweet corn (those were the days my mom worked at the agronomy department at the U of M and we were always testing new and wonderful varieties of sweet corn, topped off with a Burnt Sugar Cake. Since it's blueberry time when we are at the cabin for my b-day, I always make a Blueberry Pie. For my kids, it's always an at home thing. I was reminded why when we were recently invited to, and attended, a Chuck E Cheese birthday party. A whole lot of money for a headache, IMHO.

No time for a photo before dinner (hurry to go to a meeting), but we had BLT's with bacon from my favorite local meat market, brandywines, and romaine from the farmer's market on toasted sourdough and some outstanding sweet corn. This has been a very cool summer, and while we have not had very many tomatoes (none of mine are ripe), which is sad. But the upside is that the sweet corn has maintained that early season fresh crispness -- it has been just about the best every, especially for this late in the season. A quintessential late summer meal.

Diana, at age 6: "Mom, I want larb."

Thanks, Danielle, for taking up the reins! Your daughter is adorable. Your sister's ketchup covered whatever looked like, well, something covered with ketcup, but the ear of sweet corn looked wonderful. Good luck on the house selling. Having done that fairly recently, I can honestly say that selling is worse than moving. Keeping it clean, smelling good, etc. is awful. The night we got a great signed purchase agreement, I was braising bacon (from Zuni Cafe cookbook) and had to yank it out just with just 10 minutes notice for a showing. They must have loved that smell (and my ultra clean house).

Try my Raspberry Pie. What makes this pie great is that most of the fruit is not cooked, so it maintains that crunch and tartness that makes raspberries so special.

My thoughts, exactly!

The best meals for me have been at The Cabin. Be they meals of food for the tummy, tastebuds, or soul.

After far too long an absence (thanks to family members who only want to got to the once a year on weekends we want to go, as well as some can't-miss weekend commitments), we return on Thursday. We will leave on Labor Day, sadly, because the kids do really need to start their new schools on the first day of school. We will have two days alond -- just the five of us -- before being joined by the contingent that has joined us annually; this will be our 8th year as a big group which includes other kids and parents -- people we have known since the mid-70's when we were in college. We have figured out menus for the "big group" time, and tomorrow, Peter and Diana and I will finalize food for just the five of us. Breakfasts are a no-brainer -- bacon and/or sausages, waffles, pancakes, eggs and perhaps cinnamon rolls if the weather is cool and we want to bake. Lunches, likewise, are easy. Sandwiches, veg, fruit, whatever -- grazing time. FOr dinners, I am contemplating a butt -- smoked naturally. Venison burgers, one night, perhaps, since it is time to think about emptying the deep freeze in anticipation of another deer this fall. Me does think that this Labor Day weekend will probably not be a weekend of frolicing in the water. This has been, for us up here, the summer that never happened. The water never got as warm as it should have, and nights up at The Cabin have dipped into the 20's. Days have not been terribly warm, either. But, regardless, we will do what we always do. Tell stories. Cook. Play games. Play the guitar and/or mandoline. Sing. Cross our fingers, see some northern lights. Be away from all of the things that interfere -- the computer, the phone, laundry. Be together. Perhaps set up some empty beer cans and do some target practice in anticipation of the coming grouse and deer hunting seasons. Take out the dock, but not until I've had my last cuppa at the end of it, followed by what will probably be my final early am skinny dip of the season. Most of all, gear these kids up for my favorite day of the year -- the first day of school!

Thanks, Betts. I know many who rave about the pork chop on a stick. I love pork, but probably pork chops less than other cuts. And, I go to the fair for food I won’t do at home. Like that cheap hot dog bathed in batter and deep fried for me. (I don’t deep fry very often). There is something about the food at the fair. We do think the lemonade is best at the stand near the entrance to the horse barn; they also sell great fried cheese curds and have shorter lines than the fried cheese curd stands on the main drag and at the food building. I have never been a sweet potato person, so it’s a good thing I was not a child of yours! One memory that Paul and shared tonight as we stood outside on the deck on a night lit with an almost full moon, bathed in wisps of clouds. This must be the first or second year we attended the fair together (my folks used to live within walking distance of the fair). Sated with food on a stick, late a night, we hit the one ride I will do – the double Ferris wheel. There were only a couple of other cars on the wheel occupied and they stacked us all on the same area of one wheel. When the post-Grandstand show started, they stopped the wheel, with us at the top. To the back, we could see an almost full moon -- with those same wispy clouds, and to the front, a full display of fireworks. We were young – maybe 20. We are old (middle aged?) now, with three kids, and have done it all. Like I said on my cabin thread, young love did turn into old love. There’s just something about that Great Minnesota Get Together. And, those corn dogs…

I really should have mentioned the butter heads. We were on the way to see the butter heads when Peter got lost. Every year, there are 12 young women who are the Princesses vying for the title of Princess Kay of The Milky Way, who is crowned at the state fair. There is a woman who takes 90 pound blocks of butter, and for each day of the fair, spends her time in a rotating cooler, with the Princess sitting opposite her, and sculpts. The cooler is round is shape and is glass on the sides that the spectactators can see. The already sculpted butter heads are on display in the cooler, as well as the unsculpted blocks of butter (with photo of princess pinned to it). Quite something. The princesses get to keep their butter heads. Those from small towns usually store it at the local meat market until the next early summer, when it is used for a town corn feed.

Here's another thread on Slow cookers that also mentions pressure cookers. I don't use my slow cooker as often as most of the other cooking equipment I have, but it has been, and will continue, to be indispensible to me. I have never had a pressure cooker (unless one considers the days when I worked 50 hours a week outside the home while trying to mother 3 kids ).

We have been to the Great Minnesota State Fair. I tried one of the two new deep-fried-on-a-stick treats. The reuben. It looked like a very dark corn dog (I really should have taken pictures). The dog inside tasted like hints of corned beef, kraut and swiss. The “crust” a hint of rye. The two disappointments of this dish (stick?) were the fact that the tastes were only hints. The State Fair is not Trio and the fact that the sauce was a packet of squeezie ultra cheep, thin runny “1,000 Island” dressing that kept dripping off. Your average corn dog with mustard is a napkin-less dish. This was a boatload of napkins, with no punch. I seriously thought about a CobDog (batter-dipped ear of sweet corn, deep fried) and polled three people who were eating them about this new “treat.” Nothing special, not worth the stomach space, in their humble opions. Then, near the stand, I espied may folks tossing half eaten cobs into the trash. I declined, opting to reserve said stomach space for more noteworthy and toothsome deep fried treats. So, in addition to the reuben on a stick (one other person took a bite) ate: 5 corn dogs 2 orders of fried cheese curds (they give you more per serving in the Food Building, but the ones by the horse barn are better) 1 malt 1 taco (from Tejas, so better than the run of the mill; their salsa is very interesting and smoky) 1 order of garlic fries 1 large bucket of regular fries shared with Paul and Heidi 2 orders of mini-donuts (shared with Heidi) 4 large beers (Paul bought them; don’t know what kind; not shared with Heidi) 1 gyro from Flafal King 1 flafal sandwich from Flafal King 1 order fried onion rings Oh, and another order of something else fried 3 Nalgene bottles of water Peter got lost, but remembered where we were going, so went to an info booth and got directions and found us. Peter tossed his 6 corn dogs and several orders of fries and cheese curds after an especially “hurly” ride (I don’t do rides) I met Kerry. I ran into another EG’er. We saw a sow that weighed in at 1,200 plus pounds. We saw a sow with a number of younglings suckling that made me go “geez, I’m glad I never gave birth to multiple babies. What a lot of bacon! We saw cows being milked. Sheep being shorn. Wool being carded and spun. Prize winning quilts, sweaters and an unbelievable display of glove embellishements. Farm machinery. Jet skis. Snow mobiles. Car, trucks, and boats. A number of people hawking all sorts of kitchen gadgets. Blown glass dust-collectors. Things to save your life. Religion. An unbelievable array of people. Short, tall, fat, thin, tattooed to within an inch of their life. Teens. Disabled. Babies. Young love. Old love. Geriatrics. Bikers. The rest of us. Paul and I have been going to the fair together every year since 1978. These days, we go opening day. Admission is reduced, rides are cheap, the grease is fresh, and the bathrooms clean. It is almost romantic for us. We remember what it was like before we had grey and wrinkles. But, we remain a house divided. I am a corn dog woman, he a Pronto Pup man. The difference is that the former is slightly sweeter, and has far more corn meal and the corn dog people are far more generous with the mustard than the latter. Memories. Many of them under the stars, the lights of the Midway or the fireworks at the Great Minnesota Get Together. We will remember this one as the one at which Peter got lost and barfed. Such is life in one's 40's.

Katie and/or JAZ, any comments on Shakers? I like it, but then again, since it's a MN product, I could be biased...

It is late August. A (at least this one) woman's fancy turns to sweet corn and tomatoes and green beans and grilled zucchini. I humor my family by cooking some sort of meat (since I have about 50 lbs. of venison dogs and brats and another 10 lbs. of chuck eye steaks in the freezer, that would be the addition). Yes, every night, it is the litany from Paul, Diana and Peter (Heidi, too, if she were verbal). Corn and tomatoes again? Can't we have somethig else? Meantime, I'm in heaven. The corn is picked about 2 hours ahead of cooking; the tomatoes heirloom (Brandywine); the green beans thinner than a pencil; and the zucchini nice, young and slim. Colon cleansing, I remind my family.

Tomorrow for lunch, Diana and I will larb the leftover very rare steak. There is leftover steak only because the tomatoes and sweet corn were to die for. Leftover rare meat larbs very well, BTW.

Wimp. My family would know better than to argue with me if I wanted to brine anything in the tub! Jeez, it's just a tub. Easily cleaned. Plus, I would have the distinction of having a tub that had not only bathed babies, but brined an animal! Badge of honor.

When I was in college, a friend did a paracollege project on the WOW factor. Never mine that this was in the lazy, hazy, crazy college days of the 70's. The WOW factor had a most definitely different factor than I would attribute to this documentation. WOW! Are we the privileged or what? Thanks to all who have made this happen.

Just received from my sister as a belated birthday gift: The Chese Board Collective Works. She lives just a few short blocks from The Cheese Board (lucky her!). Judi, I'll check my shelves, and I stop at least weekly at halfprice books. Keep us posted on what you receive, please.

We here in Zone 4 are about to say bye-bye to the gardeneing season and just save the nurtrients in the garden. I have only one tomato (on 6 plants) that is larger than a golf ball. With tems dipping into the low 40's at night, there is no hope any more. My neighbors are finall pulling the first of the green beans off their pole beans. Even at the farmer's market, the "hot summer" crops (peppers, tomatoes, green beans) are pathetic. This is truely the summer that never happened. We have kept sweatshirts at hand, which is not typical. Most disappointing. I had so hoped for a tomato from our "new estate" this year. And, so I whine. I really shouldn't, as we did have 9 days at the cabin that were warm and sunny and "bathing suit worthy." So, tomorrow, I pull the tomato plants. Stick something else in, like lettuce or spinach or some of the perennials my friends have so generously donated to my new cause. Sigh. I live for summer. Wish we'd had one.

I grow Thai basil during the summer; buy it readily at the Hmong/Thai markets that populate the Twin Cities. Tried drying it once; it just wasn't right. Wonder what would happen if one made a "Thail Basil Pesto"? Anyone tried this?

I would also add fresh cilantro to canned salsa. But, I would also mince the cilantro roots to the cilantro I add to the salsa before canning. All of the cilantro sold in the Twin Cities Hmong/Thai markets and ad the farmer's markets include beautiful, clean roots (which I further wash).

The PBS show even brought a tear to Paul's eyes. I got out the box of Puffs. In the dark days of last winter, as we made a most painful decision to sell our beloved house of 18+ years, and I worked my butt off (and another 25 lbs), every Tuesday at 1:30 pm, there would be Julia. Either "In Julia's Kitchen" or with Jacques, and I stopped what I was doing about 1/2 hour before, fixed something yummy and attractive for lunch (the only meal I ate during those months), and enjoyed, was inspired, and awed. We have been so lucky to have been privvy to Julia.