Ravensdale Red Huckleberry Pie

Having a wonderful pie. Wish you were here!

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Punkines!

Ha, I still crack up every time I think of that road-side sign we saw that declared "Punkines!" In fact, that's all we've ever called them since. I'm pretty sure they were selling pumpkins, but now that I think about it, wouldn't that be funny if the joke was on me, and there really is something called "punkines?" Is there?

Punkines! (I think)


Canned punkine.

Punkine puree. (is this picture gross? I wanted to show my prowess at getting this stuff pureed, but I know food pics can be iffy, so I apologize if this makes anyone else a little whoopsie.)

Roasted punkine seeds.

Chanterelles

(It was hard to know which of my blogs to post this on. It was a hike to gather these, so it could've gone on Dirty Walking, but since it was ultimately about food, I'll put it here, although there is a related nature story coming, so be ready for that.)

These are Chanterelle mushrooms. (shon-ter-ELZ) We go up to Tiger Mountain most every autumn to hunt for them. I do not like to eat them, but I do like to hunt them. And I like that there aren't other mushrooms that look like them that could kill The Big Guy who does like to eat them.

Finding these requires climbing up the steep slopes of Tiger and bushwhacking through the underbrush. It takes a LOT to make a little once they're dried.

See? That whole picnic table-full is all right here in this cannister. No kidding. So now when you go out for a really fancy dinner or you watch Iron Chef America, and you see Chanterelles on the menu, you'll know why it costs more than your house.

Now for the nature story:

There we were, scrambling along the slopes of Tiger, when I look up and not 15 feet in front of me is a pretty mule deer doe. Why she wasn't running from us since we were making lots of noise, I didn't know, but then I thought, "Gads, maybe she's not scared because she's sick, and any minute she's going to charge and start kicking the hell out of me!" Fortunately, that did not happen, but what did happen was she would move a ways away, and then circle around and sort of hang out near us. She did this several times. A couple times, we thought she had finally moved on, but then she'd come bounding through again Boing! Boing! Boing! Let me assure you it is very humbling when you're using every ounce of strength and balance you have to stay on the side of a steep forest slope and a deer springs through like it's a meadow. Show off!

If Life Hands You Old Corn

Make corn meal! Remember my lamenting about getting to our corn a little late and not liking it's stickiness and chewiness? How could you forget, its like two entries ago?! Anyhow, I said to myself, "Little Glutton, why don't you throw some of that old corn in the dehydrator and see what happens." So I did because I always listen to myself. And what happened was that it dried all up. What did you think was gonna happen, it's a dehydrator, silly. Then I threw it in my little nut-chopper gizmo and then into the old coffee grinder. It looked pretty darn good.

I had to put it to the test, though, so I made some whole wheat cornbread. The Big Guy said it was the best he ever had, and he liked my cornbread before.

I'm thrilled about this because I was so unhappy about all my hard work in growing all that beautiful corn being for naught. Making cornmeal from future corn crops is not the plan, but it's comforting to know we have a great use for our old, sticky corn this year.

Accidental Syrup

I neither made nor ate these. This is all The Big Guy's doing. I did, however, make the mountain huckleberry "syrup." It was an accident because I was trying to make jam. But that's OK because sometimes accidents are happy things. Just ask The Big Guy.

At First I Was Afraid...

I was petrified...to use the pressure canner for the first time. I had visions of the heavy lid sailing across the kitchen and hitting someone (probably me) in the head. But I read everything I could find about pressure canning and I talked to people who had done it before and I watched a video on You Tube that showed a canner just like ours...and I made sure The Big Guy was home to stand between me and the stove. I'm not proud.

Turns out, it really wasn't all that scary. It worked just like it was supposed to, See? Beans!

These are three colors of beans if you're wondering why some look a different color -- green (duh), wax, and purple. I'm not really a fan of canned beans -- much prefer steamed and bright green, but if we're to not waste anything from the garden, canned or frozen they must be. Speaking of frozen things, we also picked all the corn. We were, unfortunately, a little late on that, so it was a bit sticky by the time it was blanched and stripped from the cobs. These are the drawbacks of only two people trying to work big gardens. But, don't be sad. We got 47 cups of corn kernels frozen into 10 lb bags, and it will be perfectly suitable for things like scalloped corn, corn pudding, corn bread, and as The Big Guy said, "Just throw it in anything for filler!" Nine out of ten cows across America agree. One out of two cats in the Ravensdale area agree, too.

The Answer: 2 Quarts of Peaches

The Question: How much will 20 fresh peaches make for canning?

I don't know if I like the looks of these. Oh, they're safe and all, but they look cloudy. And fuzzy -- not in a good peach-fuzz way. Perhaps I'm just too used to the store-bought ridiculously bright and smooth peach halves (which makes me wonder how do they do that and do I really want to know?) Maybe that's why I've never liked canned peaches. Still, I think these may become cobbler someday...

I'll Have A Blue, Blue, Blue Potato

Adirondack Blue Potatoes. Grew 'em and roasted 'em myself, I did. Ate 'em myself, too.

Now That's A Real Dilly!

Would you like to hear a sappy love story? Too bad, I'm telling it anyway. When I got home from work yesterday, and after I'd finished bawling my eyes out over the new work shift I'll be getting, The Big Guy and I rode our bikes (13 miles round trip) to Foley's Produce stand to buy some fresh dill.* Then we spent the rest of the day canning pickles together. And we're both still alive! The End
*I do have some dill growing in my flowerbed, but not as much as we needed. Note to self: grow more dill.

A cucumber grows in Ravensdale.

The Big Guy slices spears.

Jars kept at 180* because the book says so. And you don't
argue with the Ball Blue Book or you die. That's what it
says anyhow. It's a scary book.

The Little Glutton packin' pickles.

Big Pot O' Cannin'. It's Irish, I think.


Look! Christmas presents! (Sorry to ruin the surprise.)