'maters 'n katchup 'n blisters

Dear fellow food-enthusiasts,

Last Friday Mr. H and I took my brother's truck and picked up a round 410 lbs of tomatoes (the next day this was supplemented by an additional 40 lb box from the same farmer). Needless to say, the last week has been spent sorting, washing, coring peeling choppingblendingandotherthings. My friend Miz Carmen and I placed the bulk of the order together, although smaller portions went to a few friends; she and I have spent many late nights bent over the pressure canners!

We read some very useful tomato tips from another home-canner's blog; after blending tomatoes for sauce, let them sit in the refrigerator overnight to separate the majority of the water from the tomato. The water settles to the bottom of the container, leaving the thicker tomato on top. This saves a lot of time when cooking the tomato down to reduce to sauce. However, there is one caveat to this tip: as we learned towards the end of our tomato sprint, the tomatoes need to be blended fairly fine in order for this to work. At first we thought our tomatoes weren't separating because they were romas, and more meatier than beefsteak; but we found eventually that the more finely blended romas separated just fine overnight. You can remove the water by pouring off the tomato and leaving the water in the container, siphoning out the water from the bottom, or using a turkey baster. We used clear containers for our tomatoes so it was easy to see the water level.

After separation: Tomato sauce on the left, water on the right.

Every year while canning, it is customary for me to sustain at least one scar-worthy injury. Last year, I reached behind a canning pot to grab a pear that fell on the stove, and got a harsh steam burn on my forearm that left a nice purple scar. This year, the Accident happened while canning tomatoes. I had boiled a large pot of sauced tomatoes until they reduced to about half, and added a generous mix of spices and onions and shredded horseradish root to make seafood cocktail sauce. After boiling, I was going to blend the sauce in cupfuls, as I had already blended two previous pots of ketchup, and return the blended sauce to the cookpot and then can in half-pints. I poured a cupful in the blender, clamped on the lid, cranked up the speed to 3, and in a hissing, steaming burst of red not unlike a catsup hand grenade, boiling tomatoes exploded all over the deck, the table, and me. I reached into the fiery inferno to shut off the blender and went into the house to lick my wounds and survey the damage. Overall, it wasn't too bad; my apron over my clothes had protected me with a double-layer of cloth, and most of the splatters on my arms were too small to cause much damage; however, my right hand had been the closest to the eruption by dint of the fact that it was the tool with which I had turned on the blender. It had a thick coating of tomato sauce and shredded horseradish, and when I rinsed it under cold water I could see the bubbling red tomato sauce would soon give way to bubbling red skin.

Scene of the crime, post clean-up

It is still blistered and bubbled, but surprisingly it never really hurt too bad. I did manage to burn the same hand twice more the following day - once on the thumb, and then across the palm when I grabbed a hot pan - but I don't think those mionor aftershocks will leave any permanent damage.

All things considered, the cocktail sauce turned out spicy and delicious, and I can't wait to enjoy it with home made fries and Mr. H's fresh-caught seafood.

Fresh peels in a bucket on the right, blended peels on the left

A last Useful Tip on tomatoes comes from a combination of lessons learned from pears and peaches, and the timeless Waste not Want not adage. I'll share the lesson about the pears and peaches in a subsequent blog, but for now I will share with you a jewel of a tip from tomatoes. Save aside the 10+ pounds of skins from blanching/shocking all of your whole and diced canned tomatoes in a bucket or something. Set up a blender and squeeze some of the water out of a handful or so at a time; blend for several minutes per handful, and cook the resulting sauce for a little (depending on how much water you squeezed out) to reduce to a thick, nutritious tomato paste.

We had been planning to sauce a batch of tomatoes and cook them down for a billion hours to reduce to tomato paste, but this method works so well, uses the skins in a pertinent way, and saves time and money. Miz Carmen froze some of her tomato paste in ice-cube trays to freeze and vacuum seal later; not having the luxury of a spare freezer, I am pressure-canning my paste in 4-oz jars.

Happy tomato canning!
Be sure to leave a comment or click the "getting in touch" tab above if you have any fabulous tips or links to share.


blessings,


Mrs H
tweet us @_mrs_h
Follow us on Facebook!

Rhubarb for Bakers

Thanks for reading this post, I'm so excited to visit with you!  

After you've gleaned all the good information you need, visit our new blog platform at www.farmandhearth.com to read even more fascinating tidbits from the kitchen and the fields. 

Dear querying fans,

I realize that not all of you can, or are interested in canning, but many of you enjoy baking.  The following recipes call for rhubarb and are enormously delightful.  Both receive rave reviews every time I make them, and the plates are wiped clean!

This recipe was given to me by my mother-in-law - the original Mrs. H!  She found it and tweaked it last summer, and it's a family classic now.

Joan's Rhubarb Custard Pie
Best served slightly cooled
2 cups diced rhubarb (when it's out of season, I use two pints, drained, of canned rhubarb)
2 teaspoons butter
3/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup cream (2% milk works as well)
2 teaspoons cornstarch
2 egg yolks, beaten until thick (save the great whites - see below)

1 8" pie shell, baked and cooled

2 egg whites for meringue (I don't know how you make your meringue but I follow the Cook's Illustrated instructions.  I've included those directions below but feel free to do it however you like.)
1/2 tablespoon cornstarch
1/4 cup water
1/8 teaspoon cream of tartar1/4 cup sugar
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract

In a saucepan, combine rhubarb, butter, and sugar, and cook over low heat, stirring occasionally until rhubarb is soft (keep an eye on it.  You don't want it to stick, but at the same time if you overstir the rhubarb will get tough.)  Beat together cream, cornstarch, and beaten egg yolks.  Slowly pour into hot rhubarb mixture in a thin stream, mixing quickly and thoroughly.  Pour into pie shell while still hot.


Meringue:  Mix cornstarch with water in small saucepan; bring to simmer, whisking occasionally at beginning and more frequently as mixture thickens.  THIS HAPPENS FAST!  When mixture starts to simmer and turn translucent, remove from heat.  Let cool while beating egg whites (instructions below).

Heat oven to 325 degrees.  Mix cream of tartar and sugar together.  Beat egg whites and vanilla until frothy.  Beat in sugar mixture, 1 tablespoon at a time.  Add cornstarch mixture (globs),  1 tablespoon at a time; continue to beat meringue to stiff peaks.





Spread meringue over pie filling with a spatula, making sure to "glue" it to the crust of the pie so that it does not shrink away during baking.  Bake for 10 - 15 minutes, until meringue is browned.

 Buttermilk-Rhubarb Cake with Vanilla Sauce
from Taste of Home 2002 cookbook

Batter:
2 tablespoons butter
1 cup white sugar
1 egg
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
1 cup buttermilk (powdered works fine)
2 cups chopped fresh or frozen rhubarb thawed,
or 2 pints canned rhubarb or rhubarb-strawberry pie filling, drained

Streusel Topping:
¼ cup all-purpose flour
¼ cup sugar
2 tablespoons butter, melted

Vanilla Sauce:
½ cup butter
¾ cup sugar
½ cup evaporated milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Preheat oven to 350°F.  In a mixing bowl, cream butter and sugar; beat in egg.  In a separate bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt; add to creamed mixture alternately with buttermilk, beating just until moistened.  Fold in rhubarb.  Pour into greased 9x9” square pan (I made 9x9” cake and 9 muffins). 

I promise you ... it's delicious.

In another bowl, blend topping ingredients and sprinkle over batter.  Bake muffins for approximately 20 minutes, and cake for approximately 40 – 45 minutes or until toothpick comes out clean.  Cool on a wire rack.  (Be gentle when removing cupcakes; the rhubarb makes the cake tend to fall apart deliciously!)

For sauce, melt butter in a small saucepan.  Add sugar and evaporated milk.  Bring to a boil over medium-high heat; cook and stir for 2 – 3 minutes or until thickened.  Remove from heat, whisk in vanilla.  Drizzle hot over cake when you serve.  


Happy baking! 


Love, 

Mrs H
tweet us @_mrs_h
Follow us on Facebook!

As promised - more rhubarb recipes!

Dear avid canners,

Here is the other rhubarb canning recipe I promised you.  It just begs to be slathered onto a sizzling steak or a fat juicy burger, a slab of homemade meatloaf or a big pile of grilled vegetables, a mushroom and pineapple kabob or a rotisserie chicken.  Enjoy!

My friend Allison and I made this, along with the rhubarb conserve, and split the yields.

Victorian Barbecue Sauce
Makes about four pint jars (we tripled the recipe and got six pints and 13 1/2 pints)

8 cups chopped rhubarb
3 1/2 cups brown sugar (adjust to taste)
1 1/2 cups coarsely chopped raisins
1/2 cup chopped onion (we used about twice the amount called for)
1/2 cup white vinegar
1 tsp ground allspice
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp ground ginger
1 tsp salt

In a large stainless steel saucepan, combine rhubarb, brown sugar, raisins, onion, vinegar, allspice, cinnamon, ginger and salt.  Bring to a boil over high heat, stirring frequently.  Reduce heat and boil gently, stirring frequently, until mixture is thickened to the consistency of a thin commercial barbecue sauce, about 30 minutes (I have no idea how long we cooked ours - long enough to make and can the Rhubarb Conserve, anyway!).

I blended the sauce and returned to the heat before canning; if you prefer a chunky sauce, don't blend.  If you like it smooth smoother smoothest, blend accordingly!

Put into hot jars, leaving 1/2 inch headspace.  Remove any bubbles, clean rims, and lid.

Process for 15 minutes in boiling water bath.  Will add a sweet, savory, somewhat fruity complement.

 Let's hear those lids pop!


Mrs H
tweet us @_mrs_h
Follow us on Facebook!

Rhubarb everything!

Dear fellow experimenters,

Rhubarb is a miracle plant.  It is botanically recognized as a vegetable, but in the United States, as of 1947, it is legally considered a fruit, for purposes of regulation and duties.

This is because of its uses - it is seen primarily in sweet dishes, as opposed to savory.  It is cultivated and valued for the tart, tangy flavor it lends to dishes.  It is scorned and disliked by many that I know because of the way it is commonly overcooked, undercooked, poorly cooked, and abused.

If you don't care for the delicious, tart flavor of a sweet Granny Smith apple, or the crisp tang of a rosy plum, then you would probably not like rhubarb dishes.  And if you don't like tough stringy fibers or soggy, watery filling, then you probably don't like overcooked undercooked poorly cooked and abused rhubarb.

Rhubarb must be treated properly.  Like the juice recipe two posts back, the next few recipes I will post call upon rhubarb solely for her properties of taste, and not of texture.  This is not to say rhubarb cannot be eaten in whole and for texture, for indeed when properly treated the cooked rhubarb should have a texture and quality something between an apple in a pie and sliced strawberries heated.  But we will address that ball of wax on another day.

For now, content yourself with the following recipes - both highly rated by all who have tasted them so far.  The below recipe is drawn from the Ball Complete Book of Home Preserving. I put my mods in italics, so if you wish to stick to the original you may.

Rhubarb Conserve
Makes about seven 8-oz jars.  We quadrupled the recipe and our yield was 13 pints.

4 cups finely chopped rhubarb
1/4 cup water
2 organic oranges, unpeeled, washed thoroughly (if you don't have veggie wash, use 3 parts water to 1 part vinegar - and a scrubbie, for even better results.  Read a blog article about a Cook's Illustrated article about vinegar and water here!), seeded, and finely chopped (minced)
1 organic lemon, unpeeled, seeded, and finely chopped (minced)
1 cup raisins (I would suggest currants, since they are smaller)
5 cups sugar (We quadrupled the recipe and used 15 cups) or 3-3/4 cups
1-1/4 tsp ground mace or nutmeg
2 pouches (each 3 oz) liquid pectin
1/2 cups chopped walnuts (we didn't use these)


Make sure your jars, lids, canner etc are ready before you begin, and the lemons and oranges are chopped - because this all goes pretty fast once it starts! 
In a large, deep stainless steel saucepan, combine rhubarb and water.  Partially cover and bring to a boil over medium heat.  Boil gently for 2 minutes, until rhubarb is softened.  Add oranges, lemon, raisins, sugar and mace, stirring until sugar dissolves,  Over high heat, stirring constantly, bring to a full rolling boil that cannot be stirred down.  Stir in pectin.  Boil hard, stirring constantly, for 1 minute. Remove from heat and stir in walnuts (if using).  Skim off foam.

Ladle hot conserve into hot jars, leaving 1/4" headspace.  Burp and lid.

Process in boiling water bath for 10 minutes.
(We took some of the hot conserve out of the pot and dripped it over yeasted corn muffins - my goodness it was delicious.................!) 
I had my suspicions about how it would taste with the peels and all in there, but they are small, chewy bursts of tart flavor, and are a necessary element!  An amazing recipe.  If you want to taste it before you try the recipe, come on over!

Enjoy, and happy canning to all!

tartly,

Mrs H
tweet us @_mrs_h
Follow us on Facebook!

Things change, things change; things just don't stay the same.

Dear companions and travelers on the way,

When I was probably about seven, my older sister Rebecca, who would have been around nine, went with my Dad to work for "Take Your Kid to Work" day.  She and Dad left nice and early in the morning, and I was still groggy in bed as I heard the car pull out.

It was a listless, warm afternoon, and I sat pathetically in the backyard observing the bleak and colorless future that would be mine; a life of endless days of lonely backyard play without my best friend and tenant in common.  I wandered around the trees in our backyard with my toy horse Black Gypsy, wondering what kind of strange jobs Rebecca would be executing at the Office.  She had joined the world of adults now, mature and aged creature that she was, and probably wouldn't even be interested in playing with me any more.  I picked a chunk of bark off the tree and found no interest in the ensuing rush of ants.  Normally this would be an exciting event, as one could follow the ants as they explored the ravines of the craggy bark, and watch them intersect on invisible highways known only to them, porting as it were bundles of building material.  But today, there was nobody to share it with.  There was no point in watching them; no pleasure in discovering their hiding places.

That evening Rebecca and Dad returned home in time for dinner; she had Cool Stuff like papers and pens.  She seemed totally normal and played with me after dinner with her horse Carmel, who was espoused some years ago to my Black Gypsy.  Both of them had four broken legs but seemed to survive and enjoyed a normal, although perhaps somewhat vertically challenged, life.  As normal a life as one can have, anyway, with over forty polyethylene children.

The next morning I came downstairs for breakfast.  I had heard the car pull away in the misty morning as usual, since the garage opening beneath my bedroom usual stirred me from my sleep.

Imagine my shock when I saw Rebecca sitting at the table, placidly eating her cereal!

"Mom!" I said.  "Why isn't Rebecca with Dad!?"

"She was only going for one day," Mom said casually, stirring the pot of oatmeal.

Glory be!  This was too good to be true!  Who knows why she had to go that one day - but who really cared?  Returned were the joyful days of building Viking houses for our horses and their myriad plastic offspring; returned was the thrill of tracking and hunting elusive squirrels with shoestring bows and arrows; again we could follow ants on their adventurous routes through the tree; once more the Everlasting Tower, a figment of our fertile imaginations, would continue to be built, with ever new and perilous rooms to be explored by the intrepid Tarbari and Tabina!

Time trickles down though, and yesterday morning Rebecca left for New Orleans to study music with the great ones there.  Our relationship is now not so much one of toy horses and Indian tipis in the backyard, although those are memories that will forever last as a part of our history.  Our relationship has matured and evolved, and can now be held over a long distance - to talk about things (gentlemen callers, perhaps), to learn from each other (that's called a glissando?  News to me!), and to pray for each other.

Sisters, sisters - there's nothing like 'em in the world!  Enjoy your stay in the Big Easy, big sister!

Love,

Andrea

tweet us @_mrs_h
Follow us on Facebook!

Rhubarb juice? Yes, I kid you not.

Dear patriots of the press and internets,

"Yes, I know it's amazing.  You don't have to tell me twice!"

This is what I commonly find myself saying after serving guests a glass of sparkling, refreshing Sunshine Rhubarb juice.  Rhubarb was never a particular favorite of mine, but its appeal blossomed significantly when I found I could obtain virtually unlimited quantities, for free, from my mom-in-law Joan!

The following recipe is gleaned from the Ball Complete Book of Home Preserving. It is absolutely delicious and refreshing!!!!

Sunshine Rhubarb Juice Concentrate

Makes about four pint (500mL) jars
12 cups sliced rhubarb (approx. 1-inch chunks)
4 cups water
Grated zest and juice of 1 lemon
Grated zest and juice of 1 orange
1-1/2 cups white sugar

1. In a large stainless steel saucepan, combine rhubarb, water, lemon zest and orange zest.  Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring constantly.  Reduce heat, cover and boil gently until rhubarb is soft, about 10 minutes (I know that stirring rhubarb while it cooks makes it tough, but don't worry about that here; the rhubarb will be strained and the toughened fibers discarded).  Remove from heat and stir in lemon juice and orange juice.
2. Transfer to a dampened jelly bag or a strainer lined with several layers of cheesecloth set over a deep bowl.  Let drip, undisturbed, for at least 2 hours.  (I will here privately confess to you that I always squeeze and mash the jelly bag from time to time.  I don't care if my juice is clear - I like it foggy and tasty!)

3. Meanwhile, prepare canner jars and lids.
4. In a large stainless steel saucepan, combine rhubarb juice and sugar.  Heat to 190F (88C) over medium-high heat, stirring to dissolve sugar.  Do not boil. Remove from heat and skim off foam.
5. Ladle hot concentrate into hot jars, leaving 1/4 inch (0.5 cm) headspace.  Lid.
6. Process for ten minutes.  Remove canner lid, wait 5 minutes, remove jars.

Variation: For a basic rhubarb juice concentrate, omit the lemon and orange zest and juice, and reduce the sugar to 1 cup.  I have not tried this variation; I imagine you would want to use only slim, tart stalks for this option.  Of course, you can add more or less of whatever lemon, orange, etc. that you like.

To serve the rhubarb juice (best part!):  Mix to your taste with lemonade, lemon-lime soda, ginger-ale, sparkling water or club soda, cold water, etc.  If you have a home soda maker, this is the perfect syrup for your drinks.  The recipe suggests one part concentrate to one part water etc., but sometimes I use far less concentrate - depending on what I am adding it to.


A toast to summer!


Mrs H
tweet us @_mrs_h
Follow us on Facebook!