Yogurt cheese, ravioli, and Cooking for One

I thought you'd like to see the yogurt cheese complete.  And the whey that came off it.  

You'll notice that it's about half and half solid to liquid.  The whey is great in soup, and can go in any color soup without changing its appearance. I have Indian friends who add honey or sugar to this cheese, for a dessert type food, and other hardy souls who salt it.

So the ravioli came to be.  This is fun to do.  You will notice that if you use wonton wrappers instead of going the long route of making your own pasta, they are a bit translucent.  They do seal nicely, though, so you don't get any separating in the boiling water.

The filling was hot Italian sausage, browned, mixed with an egg, a helping of yogurt cheese, and a big shake of shredded Parmigiano.  I added no seasoning at all, since the sausage had plenty, and the yogurt cheese was tangy, the Parmigiano salty enough. 

Full disclosure on the sausage: I forgot to get them out of the freezer early enough, and they were still partly frozen when I sauteed them. So the skin wouldn't come off as planned, and I had to scrape the meat from it.  However, it made some very nice cooked skin with a bit of meat, which is now in the freezer in the chicken bone bag, to use in a future soup as flavoring. And I still had plenty of the meat for the ravioli filling.

This batch of filling made just under two dozen ravioli, most of which are in the freezer for the next time Handsome Son comes to dine.

Egg wash around each wrapper edge to help it seal, then a spoonful of filling in each, press down all around the edges, then turn each one over and press down again.  These get dropped into boiling water, just a few at a time so as not to lose the boiling point, and when they come to the surface give them just a minute before lifting them out to drain.

Cook's privilege, the first few.  Good without any sauce or anything.

I got the Cooking for One book, and recommend it to people who love meat, and have a budget for the more exciting seafood.  I don't, so it might not fit my kitchen, though I may yet find something, and she has some great ideas about how to keep using the same base in interesting and different ways.  

That way you don't have to eat the same meal over and over, always a good point for a single diner. I also like her assumption that you can be a good guest and host to yourself, enjoy the process of both cooking and dining. So definitely take a look at this one.

And here's a little afternoon tea, fresh hot biscuit with yogurt cheese spread, to accompany my reading.

Ravioli makings and yogurt cheese, thinking ahead

I've been browsing through The Splendid Table cookbooks, and suddenly thought of making ravioli.  Not from their books, in fact, just one of those tangential ideas that fly out from seemingly unrelated contexts. Haven't made them for ages.

So today I added wonton wrappers to the lineup of  hot Italian sausage already in the freezer for whatever it fits with, and whole milk plain yogurt, and a supply of eggs. I probably only need one egg, but it looked nice to display them all.

I've made my own pasta for ravioli, and it was good, but not enough to justify that much work at least not right now, before I've recovered from the Rustic Apple Tart.  So the wonton wrappers are a great substitute.  You use them for dumplings of various sorts, but for ravioli I find them good, too.  I do like cooking the sort of things you plunge into boiling water and wait till they emerge at the top.

And since it's a while since I made yogurt cheese, which I use in many places where cream or cream cheese or ricotta is listed, since I like it better, I set some up to go. Here's the whole container full, turned out into a cheesecloth-lined strainer set on a bowl to catch the whey.  This is whole milk, since I want that consistency for the ravioli particularly, but I've made it with nonfat, too, and it's fine but not as coherent as the whole milk version.

 
And here it's in the fridge till tomorrow, with a glass lid on, to drain slowly, to set up a nice cheese consistency ready to use.
 

Kept the original container for the whey which will feature in some future soup.

This is all very good, because it means I have to wait till tomorrow for the cheese to be ready for the ravioli caper, fine by me, I can read my mystery story, an Emma Lathen set in the Baltic,  instead of pounding about in the kitchen.  And have a cup of tea, too. Such larks.

Tomorrow I'll sizzle the Italian sausage, beat in the eggs and some cheese and various spices for the filling and go from there.  I'll probably freeze a bunch of them, since you can't make just a couple of ravioli.  And they can go with various sauces, but I think I'll make a red sauce this time.

Oh, and a postscript on the Rustic Apple Tart -- Handsome Son stopped in for a cup of tea and a healthy hunk of the tart.  I whined at great length about the complications, multiple tools, and various other things and whether it was worth it really.  

He listened patiently, so tactful, don't know where he gets it from, certainly not from his parents, and said, well, it was worth it, how soon will you make it again?  Oh.  So I undertook to do it for some future special occasion.   

Speaking of which, Carol G., a friend in stitching and a blogista, mentioned a great cookbook she, herself a seriously good cook, swears by, The Pleasure of Cooking for One.  So I've put it on request at the libe, and will no doubt have some adventures with it for your future reading pleasure.

Rose of Sharon triumphs

During the renovation, my little planted areas took a beating.  Some plants just gave up, others were trodden on, equipment put down on them, ladders settled into their roots, and still they rose.

Here's the little Rose of Sharon, planted last fall as a tiny shrub, and literally downtrodden repeatedly, broken, replanted three times, and suddenly she took off last week, and here's her first blossom.  She has about a dozen buds all of a sudden.

I think there's a lesson in here!

Rustic Apple Pie and Shadow Art 6WS

Out of bread again, and as usual wondering what sort to make. Not in the mood for actual yeast bread making, nor hot biscuits, but I found, via their Twitter feed, a  recipe from The Splendid Table  for Rustic Rosemary Apple Tart.  For which go here

That seemed pretty simple, no cutting and crimping, etc., and was a bit like clafouti, which I like a lot.  And involved fresh rosemary of which I have plenty.  And cooking apples of which I had a couple. So I embarked on it.

Now, in case you fancy trying it, be forewarned: rustic does not mean fast cooking.  In fact I am thinking of recommending a whole new way of presenting recipes.  You know how they name it, tell you why you will love it, list the ingredients,  then explain the procedure? 

One huge missing element is: the number and range of tools this simple item will require.  Then you could decide if it's worth it.  The way you look at a list of ingredients and decide if you're up for that many.  To some of us this is an issue.

Here is evidence:  this is the dish drainer containing nothing but the items required to make this rustic tart.  And it doesn't include the big bowls and knives I had washed and dried and put away already. Just sayin.  I did get to use my rolling pin and pastry cutter, which was good.  And my pastry scraper. And apple corer. And peeler. And pizza cutter.

That said, however, I did achieve a result that looked something like their picture, if a bit more rectangular

And had a first slice with afternoon tea.  With the Yorkshire tradition of a big slice of extra sharp cheddar on the side.

And found it was absolutely terrific.  My first shot at flaky pastry, and it was crisp and flaky and perfectly wonderful.  The apples were those Crisp whatevers, even better than Granny Smith, never thought I'd say that, and the tart works like a fruit Danish for breakfast, too.

Of course, being me, there were substitutions.  They wanted heavy cream and I said no, no, and used plain yogurt, needed a bit more than the recipe said, and it worked fine. And you could have used cinnamon, but rosemary is much better, so I used that. They don't mention parchment paper, but after a couple of annoying encounters of the sticking kind recently with the baking sheet, I did, and that was a good idea.

Handsome son is dropping by this afternoon and will also get to test this one.  It's about making and resting the pastry, and is a lengthy procedure largely because of all the waiting for the pastry to wake up, but now I think it's worth doubling the pastry recipe and freezing some for future use. This "simple" rustic recipe reminds me of those endless beauty regimens with the goal of looking natural..

Incidentally I think it's not fair when one of the list of ingredients is: one recipe of Flaky Pastry! which is another whole recipe in itself.  But okay, okay, the results are good enough to print this one out and put it in my Big Binder. 

And while I was polishing my nails on my lapel and gawking around vacantly while the pastry rested, I noticed the sun had come out, was shining through the hanging plants, and making a natural artwork on the green wall. 

September 1st, white rabbits, or rather blue and orange butterflies..

September first, who knows that that happened, so White Rabbits to everyone.  Or rather, since I had a walk on the Preserve this week, blue and orange butterflies.

There were gangs of happy kids sploshing about studying frogs and salamanders and generally shouting and getting muddy and having a great time.  No birds to be seen when there's noise, so I switched to searching out butterflies.

The Preserve has a lot of species, and this day I saw a little blue skipper, and a possibly dusky swallowtail, pictured here

but missing portions of wings, which is why I think even without the actual tails, that's what it might be.  Open to correction on that point from knowledgeable blogistas, of which we have a few.

And an orange, which could be one of any number of species.   Nobody settled long enough to really study, so guesswork ruled.  Whites and sulphurs flitting about, too.

And there were dragonflies galore, darners, and big biplane type ones in blue and orange and black. Not an expert on dragonflies.  I should join the kids one one of their nature programs and learn about them. They eat mosquitoes so are particularly welcome in this state where the mosquito has been proposed as the state bird.

Happy Labor Day weekend, to those blogistas to whom it applies, plain old happy weekend to the rest of the world!

Baked apple and reading on a rainy day

It seems that the summer may be for the moment, gone. We usually have great weather in September.  But meanwhile, since the winds are pretty stiff, I took down the awning from outside the front door and rolled it up for next year.

And decided on baked apple for dessert.  Seems autumnal.  I got some Stayman Crisp from the farm stand.  And though they look rosy and are sold as eaters, they are whoa, too tangy for that. Made my face sort of crumple up.  So I decided they would be great cooking apples.

And tested my theory by scrubbing, coring and stuffing one with golden raisins, drizzled with good honey (not that supermarket stuff that's a lot of corn syrup, did you know they can legally do that without mentioning it?).  And microwaved it for four minutes.  Worked a treat.  Very tender, still tart but edible.  Highly recommended.  The beautiful cobalt blue ceramic bowl, guaranteed micro safe, from the thriftie, played its part, too.  Always more appetizing to eat from a bowl the right size and a good heft and color.

Front end of a storm here today, rain all day.  Good day, if you don't have outside commitments, which I didn't, to read.  Since I'm in the middle of four books at the moment, I thought I'd just mention them.

The biggest (though I didn't realize it, since it's on the Kindle) is 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami.  Set in l984 Japan, it's a long long sort of post apocalyptic/sc/fantasy or something, and really more gripping than I would have expected for me, not being my usual route.  You find out after a while what the title means, but I shan't explain it here, better to make the discovery.It involves vengeance, cults, publishing, strong women making stuff happen.

Then there's the never failing Philippa  Gregory and The Last of the Tudors, a lovely, leisurely, history-packed, very accurate, fictionalizing of that period, starting with the ill fated Lady Jane Grey, who seems to have been a bit of a pill, all things considered.

And I'm in Jhumpa Lahiri's latest, In Other Words, a memoir of the adventure of learning to live in another language, not her original Bengali, nor her fluent English, but Italian, with all the traps and rewards you can imagine.  She's an engaging writer.  I think I'd gladly read a treatise on how to fill out my tax forms if she wrote it.

And those of us who have lived in a country where another language is spoken, no matter how fast we learn and get fluent, always have that feeling she expresses, of not being able to sound as thoughtful and adult in the foreign language.  Like David Sedaris, Me Talk Pretty One Day, mocking his own struggles in French to sound like an actual adult rather than a kindergartener.

Then, just in from the elibrary, Death on the Downs, by Simon Brett.  Another in the Fethering series, with the redoubtable Jude and Carole at work again finding bodies and mysteries.  A lot of sly wit in here, too. Kindle and other electronic things are putting a real crimp into my book reviewing, no pix..

Ficus back from camp and other goings on in the great outdoors

Every year about this time I heave a big sigh knowing the ficus has to come back indoors.  It does fabulously outside, since it sends roots through the bottom of the pot into the earth, and grows happily all summer that way, also anchors itself so it doesn't get blown over all the time.

However, it's a job and a half getting it unhooked from the ground -- tilting it, and supporting with one hand while clipping blind with the other, arms not long enough to see at the same time as doing all this. The tree is about eight feet tall at this point, too.  

I have to wrestle it into its giant drain saucer, get it into the house without losing any cats or destroying the screen door, and then get the lot onto its little wheeled stand.  I usually have Handsome Son's help, but he's not available at the right times this year.  A storm is forecast for tomorrow, after which it will be not. fun. at. all. to wrestle as above, with totally sodden and much heavier foliage.

So, all that.  And then I noticed the Rose of Sharon, that dear little survivor, crushed underfoot about ten times by the builders during the reno, ladders rested on her busted stems, uprooted completely three times, in her first year here, thought she'd never make it.  

Well, about that, I looked yesterday and found she was absolutely thriving.  About four times the size since spring, and actual buds showing up! See them there? These will be blue flowers, unusual for r of s, which I often see as sort of mauvy pink, or white with red centers.  Anyway, she was trying to work against the ficus which was now in her way.  So I figured after what she's been through, least I can do is lend a hand.

 
So here's the ficus indoors, lording it over the others. She's the only plant that can tolerate going out for the summer, since the vandals next door cut down the other half of my cherry tree and destroyed the shade and the branches to hang plants from.

And out front, the sedum is turning color, to its autumnal pink, it's Autumn Joy, and being appreciated by bees and little brown butterflies.  I like very much the bee activity, since there are hives not far from here, on the farm, and I think my plants are probably flavoring their honey.  Since I have a long standing ban on spraying by the landscapers, they're taking clean stuff home. Flavored with all my herbs, including Russian sage.

This all helps with the endless worry over the shenanigans in Washington, and now the heartbreak in Houston.  My experience tells me to wait just a few days to donate, till the various agencies are geared up to accept and process donations, preferably money.  I'm checking into food banks there, to give directly at the ground level.  

Hot Biscuits. In Full. At Last 6WS

About to make hot biscuits, no bread in the house, shock, horror, and it occurred to me finally, been meaning to do this for ages, to actually give the recipe.  Up to now I've been just saying, oh, look at Silver Palate, it's in there.  

Then I tried that myself, and realized that the little xerox copy I've been working off in my three ring binder, was indeed by the authors, one of them, anyway, but it didn't appear in the book, not the edition I have. Oh. Must have found it in a magazine, oops.

This counts as Giving Bad Advice.  So I will finally remedy it. Simple recipe, which I've adapted here and there.

Anyway, here's the doings, what posh cooks call the mise en place, and ironic ones call the mise en scene, provide your own grave accent there.

Around the clock, whose center is two cups of flour, in this case whole wheat, you see baking powder, one tablespoon, baking soda, half a teaspoon, kosher salt, half a teaspoon, golden raisins for this version, just shake them in as you like. That's all the dry ingredients.

Then come olive oil, five tablespoons (substitute for recipe three of canola oil, ew, and two of vanilla essence, ew again, but if you prefer that I won't judge, very much anyway) one cup of buttermilk (I make this by souring milk with lemon juice). 

I add all the wet ingredients in that container you see there holding the buttermilk, then add them into the flour mixture all at once.

The measuring tools are there, and the whisk is to mix the dry ingredients, instead of sifting, then the big antique Russian fork is for mixing the wet ingredients in, not too vigorously.  You don't have to have a big Russian antique fork, you can use a modern American one, or Canadian, or Kiwi, or whatever you're up for. 

At this point I add the inclusions, raisins, whatever else I feel like.  I've tried adding them to the dry ingredients and they always hung on to unbaked flour and didn't look pretty.  Added in to the wet dough, they get incorporated better.

Oven at 425F, for about 10 minutes, then take a look and see if another two minutes is needed, sometimes is.

I often make it as One Big Thing, on a nonstick dish, probably intended for pizza or something.  I slice it up with a pizza cutter.

And here's a piece of today's version, in action at the lunch table. Bit of  stretch to have a version with raisins in it at lunch, but fine by me. I also sometimes put crushed walnuts, or sunflower seeds, in.   If I'd used ap flour instead of whole wheat, it would look less sort of rustic.  I sometimes do a half and half mix.

So there it is, with apologies for not having realized this earlier, and hopes that you'll give it a try.  This is nice toasted for breakfast, or jammed for teatime.  All purpose handy quick bread.

Simple supper

Lovely late summer evening, not inclined to cook much. So supper was a favorite easy one. No idea what it's called, been making it for eons.  

I have a vague notion my mom used to make it occasionally when only Dad and she and I were left at home, after the departure of all the older ones to various furrin parts.

Anyway, it's a buttered ovenproof bowl, I like ceramic for this, one lovely farm tomato cut up,  chunks of sharp cheddar, and a fresh egg broken over the lot.  Seasalt, black pepper ground over. Oven at 385 for about 20 minutes, depends on the egg -- you want it set but not too much so, and eggs vary -- and with two slices of homemade bread toasted, glass of nice red, very good small meal. 

 

Red Lentils Without Soda Bread

Well, the recipe, here actually has the dish with soda bread, but I didn't feel like making it, already have good wholewheat in the house anyway.

So since I had various bags of lentils around, when I found this recipe on twitter, it seemed like a good idea.  Fast, good food, not too laborious. 

Here's the makings

The recipe talks about cilantro, a handful, but I didn't have any on hand, so I subbed a handful of mixed spearmint and rose scented geranium leaves, worked fine.  And it's a brit recipe, in metric and in ounces, so I just guessed as I went. 

And here's the result

This resulted in quite a bit of extra water, seen here in the background, as well as lentils.  I spooned off the water, then mixed with the leftover lentils, blended with the immersion blender, and now I have two containers of lentil soup in the freezer for some time when I fancy them.  I'll probably add in some coconut milk when I reheat, too. This dish was a bit low on salt and other flavors, so I'd use more salt next time and probably a lot more garlic and chili pepper. And maybe some curry powder.

It's done with red lentils, which as you know, cook down faster than the other kind, because they're the peeled version.  So they make a nice cooked sort of mass in about half an hour.  The other sorts of lentils tend to keep their shape, which is okay if that's what you want.

While all this activity was going on in the kitchen, I noticed right outside the window a praying mantis hard at work in the Russian sage 

Haven't seen one this season, and it's always a welcome sight.  They are deadly on mosquitoes, and since I provided a snack for same on my brief trip out for the herbs, I'm glad to know she's at work on the issue.

Eclipse 2017 or as near as we got

I've been thinking about trying my hand at growing my own ginger, and today finally got a piece, and decided to plant it in honor of the eclipse.  Who knows, might be a good omen. 

So here it is waiting to be settled into a mix of coco fiber and organic potting soil.  This was originally one piece, with lively looking potential shoots. Shouldn't be too hard to remember when I planted it, so I didn't make any notes, other than this one.

 And I'm not sure if I should have waited till the break scabbed over, but oh well.

Then this afternoon, the local library made an event of the eclipse, and we had a traffic jam.  Seemed as if everyone outside of walking distance was trying to get there.  They distributed glasses, but I was too late to snag a pair.  Didn't matter. The crowd was friendly and people lent, so I still got a couple of glimpses.

Definitely good to get into a crowd for this, very cheerful happy people.  The chess players weren't deterred from their giant game. 
 

We're out of the main path, but it got as dark as twilight, and much cooler.  Interestingly, the people who had been in party mood all afternoon, fell silent at 2.48, our totality.  Birds, too.

 Then as the sun began to return, I left, and got home in time to hear the birds suddenly start up again, and see a monarch butterfly wake up and get moving among the neighbors' flowers.

Odd how reassuring it was when the sun came back, even though nowadays we know it will, most likely.

Friday dinner on the way

Tomorrow evening, Handsome Son will be free to come for dinner, seize the day when he's able to, working a lot of hours these days.

So the menu will be:  lovely fresh canteloupe chunks, with sprinkle of either amchur powder (dried mango powder, citrusy taste) or ginger powder.  Right from the farm, and the scent of the canteloupe in the kitchen is lyrical.

Then chicken thighs pounded flat, rolled around hot sausage, roasted with melted butter and panko crumbs.  

Here's the chicken wrapped around the sausage, background onion and garlic cooking for the side dish, and tomatoes in next pic, cooking down for the sauce.

Side of a tomato bean idea I got from Splendid Table, involving tomatoes (they say buy sauce, and I say, nuts, I have plum tomatoes from the farm and homemade pesto) butter beans, and fresh herbs.  If you like the sound of it, go here

This was specially nice since I have the requisite thyme and rosemary growing right outside the door.  

Beans, tomato sauce and herbs before adding panko and other herbs

And here's the complete dish.  It bakes a treat in cast iron, bubbles up nicely, crisp on top.
 
After I chopped up enough herbs for this recipe, I put the rest of the twigs on top of the chicken dish, and the smell of the roasting is heavenly.  Mostly roasted it tonight, and I'll finish it off tomorrow evening. And with any luck have enough left for several dinners for moi next week.  I used up all the sausage and chicken in one roasting, save time and heat.

Dessert is chocolate cake.  With pot of tea and some video or other, whatever HS scrambles up from my collection. 

You'll notice I've started to give links to recipes, where they're not my invention, that is.  It occurs to me that to save people emailing asking for the recipe, I may as well just offer it right off.  So I am. Only took me a few years to think of this.

Escape reading and noshing

In terrifying times, after we've done all the resistance work available to us, we need a bit of self care.  

This can be reading comic mysteries, like the Mrs. Pargeter series by Simon Brett, pic in poor lighting, so focus not so hot, but you get the gist

and making a batch of Crazy Chocolate Cake, iced with chocolate/walnut/peppermint icing.  

This is that dead simple recipe
 
 Both books and cake are failsafe! Both are recommended.

Sometimes, after you're done protesting and acting, you need to just breathe

And let nature help.  I was about to cut back these spent flowers, since they don't look so good, and a little goldfinch suddenly showed up to feed on them. And another right next to them, on the basil which is going to seed. So they can stay for now, even if the flowers look tired.

And after yesterday's terrible events in Charlottesville, we need a little nature break.

Roast vegetables and Two Fat Ladies

Revisiting roast vegetables today, with sweet potatoes, Granny Smith apple rings, hot Italian sausage, tofu, onions and various spices.  The onions were just halved then unfurled, not chopped, and the only precooked item is the sweet potato, nuked for about 15 minutes, they were big.  Otherwise it won't cook enough in the time you need for the other items.  410F oven, half an hour with a tinfoil hat on, as you see here, waiting, then half an hour sans hat.

This easily makes six meals for me, and freezes up a treat in single serving portions.

Other meals are all about farm produce, great tomatoes, fruit, herbs from my yard, all very virtuous.

I've been revisiting Two Fat Ladies, too, and if you haven't seen them,  all the episodes are on YouTube nowadays, easy to find.  Each episode is a combo of great cooking, very knowledgeable sidenotes by Clarissa, who is a brain of the first water, youngest barrister in England in her day, and spontaneous songs and other such things from Jennifer, while they're busy in the kitchen.  

They visit various touristy type places, so there's scenery, and there's the nice sense of being behind the scenes, in a convent, and in Lincoln's Inn, and cricket clubs, Aldershot military camp, and so on.  Veddy English, and very comic, most of it intentional.  And Clarissa says auregAHno for oregano, too cool.  They both come from great wealth and colorful families with all sorts of posh estates and things and they spare us the rawer facts about them (!) and the feuds. But they do give us all sorts of wild stories which definitely have the ring of truth.

They got through four seasons before Jennifer got ill and died, sadly.  Then Clarissa did seasons of other stuff, like visiting country areas for country pursuits, and I couldn't bear to watch the joy she took in hunting and killing animals and birds, and the total disdain and outright rudeness she reserved for anyone not in her elevated social circle.  So the cooking evidently brought out the best in her, stick with that if you want to watch her. 

Here and there they do something I fancy, like Tomato Tartlets which are a kind of salade nicoise (insert your own cedilla there) in pastry shells, and a pastry made from ground almonds and other things rather than flour, interesting.  Some great baking, too. They are actually very versatile, and in real life did some high end catering for all sorts of events and people.  Jennifer is always the one to point out how a recipe can be adapted for cocktail party use, she being a great fan.

Mostly they slosh incredible amounts of cream and butter about (you should see Clarissa buttering a slice of bread, cor, a week's ration there) and large amounts of alcohol.  For culinary purposes, of course.  And slabs of meat.  So a lot of it is viewing not emulating for me anyway, except that they always get the best ingredients, freshest, etc, good to copy. But great fun, and I recommend them.

Plants in new homes, getting all entitled about it

Since this afternoon's planned activity was cancelled owing to the unavailability of one person, can't play trios without three, hoping for next week, though, I had to improve the shining hour somehow.

So I took a long promised trip to the thriftie, to donate a trunkful of clothes and useful stuff which I had tried on Freecycle, no takers, oh well, they are good for new homes anyway.

And since I'd gone all that way, I had to go into the store, of course.  You donate outside at the edge of the parking lot, to a nice man in a shed. That way their van can drive around, pick up a load when the shed's full, and take it out back for sorting. So you could just get back in the car and go home, but that's not an option I ever took up.

So, having scoured the store in case they had any cool stuff for Handsome Son, no luck this time, and for me, no luck in clothing, I remembered I was in search of baskets for houseplants.  I do like them to look a bit better than in the old plastic pot things, which work fine but don't look very aesthetically pleasing. And I'd looked online and been horrified by the prices of practically anything.

And scored five great buys.  Three nested seagrass baskets, one handled one, and one less exciting, but fine. Got change from $20. They're more expensive than they used to be, but can't complain.

The begonia, which might be an angel leaf, is the one I started from a single leaf poked into potting soil about a year ago, which just sat for three months, then finally leapt out of the soil, shouting like Tarzan, and now look at it.  

Not sure what it is, since the leaf came from another plant I have which originated as a stolen cutting..and I think I might try another way of propagating it, by laying down a leaf with cuts in it, on the medium. Very Thalassa Cruso!!

She was a scream of a tv presenter, in the olden black and white Julia Child days, teddibly English, teddibly expert, teddibly understanding of beginning gardeners, and you can still find some of her video on YouTube.  I think her series was called Making Things Grow. Do look, she's a lot of fun.  I'm aware that some of my neighbors think I'm a scream, too, for similar reasons..but innocent merriment, I could do worse.

The Norfolk Island Pine I took after friend Karen died, since nobody in the family knew much about plants, so I have taken care of it.  It's not a very sturdy specimen, but it's healthy and harmless.  Very slow grower, unlike other specimens I've had.  But it doesn't give up.

The sansevieria is the one I grew from a leaf I cut up, from a friend's specimen. I'd taken care of it over a summer and sent it home from camp much better looking, so I took one leaf in payment.  It's doing fine now,  new plants emerging from the older ones.

The little pony palm is a recent arrival, from a friend, for intensive care, and I wonder if it's going to make it. No roots at all, but I'll administer benign neglect and see what's what.

And the aloe is not a rescue, I actually bought this from the farmer's market a couple of years ago, and, as you see, it's growing out of its home.  Any local readers who would like a couple of divisions, essential in the kitchen for burn treatment, that's where mine is, just let me know and I'll pot a couple up and we can connect for you to get them. 

Considering their humble origins, these plants look pretty nice these days.  Very entitled.  Reminds me of my first cat, feral Annabelle, I was the only human who could handle her, found in a dumpster, and in no time at all insisting on her rights and the best food, very picky, too.  She liked to slink about among the houseplants, playing tigers in the jungle.

Farm food and me, perfect together, and rehoming succulents

Today was about the first farm tomatoes, and peaches, great lunch.  With homegrown basil cut up and strewn around, olive oil spritzed on,  and tuna salad, made with tartare sauce.  

Pinch of baharat on the peach.  

And this was a lunch for a queen.

After I'd picked the basil, I looked back and there was a female goldfinch noshing on the seeds.  I let my herbs go to flower and seed, because I usually have all I need off them already.  And the flowers are often lovely.  

Then the seeds come in handy for roving bands of goldfinches.  I already saved all the basil seeds I need, so I can start seed next year.  I'll leave the rest for the goldfinches, our state bird, dropping in numbers because of habitat loss, least  I can do, really.

At the libe this morning I picked up a book on moss gardens, and a chat with circ desk friends about succulents.  They're trying to rehab an old jade plant that sort of fell apart, so they didn't burst out laughing at my experiments.  Kindred spirits.

And home to look at the book which told me more than I wanted to know about moss, its care and feeding.  Turns out it's aJapanese book, should have known, great photography, extreme care with handling everything, many quizzes to qualify the reader to continue with the moss journey.  Not exactly for me, but it did trigger a nice thought, which, you know how it is, I put into action instantly.

Dug out a lovely old Vermont Pottery platter, greenish brownish glaze, friendly for plants, realized I had containers of glass pebbles and beach glass for a bed, and installed the Three Little Succulents in their pots in this posh new home.

So here they are in their new digs. 

The platter we bought, along with some other lovely pieces, on a trip we made 50 years ago, when I was about five months' pregnant with Handsome Son, whose birthday it is today.  There must have been a subconscious river of thought about this.  And about Handsome Partner whose sixth anniversary is also today, and with whom I picked out the pottery.

It's all good.

Mushroom soup and crochet hooks

Today lunch was in the nature of rescued food.  Mushroom soup and hot biscuits.  

The soup came from the water in which I soaked freeze dried shiitake mushrooms, is there such a word as reliquify, if not there should be.  The mushrooms were all used up in the recent spaghetti sauce caper, but why waste that delicious flavored liquid.  So I heated it, bit of chicken broth, salt, dash of lemon juice, bundle of thyme twigs, really good, simmered for about an hour.

And with it hot biscuits, usual recipe, except that recently I had a half gallon of milk which went off before it shoulda.  So I soured it further with lemon juice, then froze it in quantities enough for one recipe at a time of hot biscuits, and it's working fine. Hate to throw away good food.  It's working fine to make biscuits, a little flatter and crisper than with the freshly soured milk, but fine leaven all the same.

And on the craftier side, I was chatting recently on Rav about beaded knitting and showed pix of my phone purses, of which I have quite few.  

They're small, ideal for experiments, and nice little presents, too.  I beaded several of them, using the crochet hook method, which suits me much better than threading them all on ahead of time.  Then I was asked to show the hooks, too, since the size of them was a bit of a mystery to people used to the bigger range of sizes you usually use.

So here's the question: I'm quoting my own post on Rav here: 

Okay, here’s another purse, linen thread and blue glass beads. I used the smallest of the hooks in the pic. Reading left to right, unmarked, probably #10, Boye #10, Boye #9, Bates #3, and Bates # 8 for comparison. I wonder about the sizing, whether these are modern sizes or what, maybe the smallest have their own size range?

And that's the question for any blogista who knows about crochet hook sizing.  I got these from a toolbox found at the thriftie, of a very old person, a serious seamstresss from the quality of silk thread and tools, and the antiquity of some of the newspaper slips things were wrapped in. A Jewish prayer for the traveler in there, too, in the form of a tiny scroll in a capsule, hung on a leather lace. Which I'm keeping with care. So the hooks might be European, brought here as the tools an immigrant might hang on to?   Really don't know, so I'm crowdsourcing for information.  Thank you!