An Old Post for a Rainy Day

I found an oldie but a goodie. I wish I was either making apple something of biscotti on this gross rainy day. Enjoy!

Thursday, October 21, 2010

A biscotti kind of day

I started off with the intention of making apple crisp in theslowcooker. I have some excellent apples that I bought at Whole Foods that are from Vermont. While I would rather go apple picking not only for the experience but to support our local apple farmers I have discovered two disappointing things here. One, it is very, very expensive to go apple picking here. Two, the apples south of Vermont do not taste nearly as good. I think the best apples I have ever eaten come from either Quebec or Vermont. I wonder if it's the cold?


When we lived in Quebec, my favourite fall experience was going to Arthur's Orchard near the small southern town of Rockburn. Not only did we get to pick awesome apples (for a great price), but they had a small cafe where they sold homemade pies, chili, split pea soup (oh how I miss French split pea soup). It was quite the experience.


Anyway, back to my point. I have some good apples in the fruit bowl. However the picky eaters here (myself included) have decided that each one has a small bruise somewhere. They've been sitting on the counter making sad apple faces at me for a couple of days wanting me to do something with them. Today I remembered that I used to make the best apple crisp in the slow cooker. Again, this was in Quebec, so I also had a steady supply of maple sugar (mmmmmmm) and I used that along with the brown sugar.


I stared at the apples, and really, truly was ready to start working on them. But, then the part of my brain that is ruled by chocolate took over and demanded biscotti.

Jenna and I pounded out a batch of biscotti. Double chocolate, walnutbiscotti to be specific.












And then because I somehow gave birth to a boy who does not like chocolate - I made homemade kettle korn popcorn.

Now, I must get back to cooking healthy again before none of my clothes fit!

Gettin' Figgy with it....

I love all things Lululemon. As a Canadian that makes me one of the many Lulu clones. But, as someone living in small town Virginia I am a rarity. Mostly because the closest store is in Richmond and is 3.5 hours away. Yes you can shop online but it's nowhere as fun as the actual Lulu shopping experience.

Anyhoo, I was looking at one of my old Lululemon bags from Canada. I know this because the bags sold in Canada are often different. Or in French as was the case when we lived in Quebec. Here is a picture of the bag my mom gave me I believe at Christmas 2007. It has New Years Resolutions written all over it.

I remember when I got the bag (and the awesome clothes inside the bag) reading the resolution about owning a Fig Tree by 2009. I thought it was kind of a random and cool resolution. After all, who resolves to do that? As someone who grew up in the frozen arctic tundra of Calgary (ha ha) the concept of growing a fig tree was completely foreign. That Christmas we had just moved to Rhode Island. A tiny state I had never even heard of before my husband started travelling there for work a few years earlier. But even there it didn't seem possible to own a fig tree.

So, I kind of forgot about it for a couple of years. But, one thing I learned quickly after moving to RI was that it is fond of all things Italian. One of them being fig trees. We enjoyed eating at Venda Ravioli and in the summer they would offer a fig salad with figs brought in by one of the waitresses and picked from her dad's fig tree. Cool!

There was a family owned gas station in East Greenwich that I loved to go to. It was a self serve station which for me had become a completely foreign thing. I was so happy to have the opportunity to have someone else pump my gas a) because I'm lazy b) because I hate getting out in the cold or rain and c) because I had small children and leaving them in the car was sometimes an issue. The first day we went there the Nonno who pumped the gas came out and picked some pansies and gave them to Jenna and I with much flourish. How could you not go to a place like this? Not only that but they had a garage so I could bring my car in there every time it broke down.

The point of this? Well they are Italian. The Nonno immigrated from Italy and had a beautiful strong accent. He turned the front of his gas station into a wonderful little garden. Aside from the flowers he would grow cucumbers, tomatoes, herbs, and - get this - figs! I asked him about the fig trees and he said he kept them in pots and would store them at the nursery across the street so they didn't freeze.

We were renting our house so I knew even trying to plant a fig tree was out of the question, and I still was not sure it would survive in a pot but I was willing to try. It became kind of an obsession for me. I started looking at all the garden centers and no where did they sell a fig tree. Then one day, I was at the Stop and Shop and there sitting outside stuck in with all the flowers were FIG TREES! I was so excited! I bought two of them (and a blueberry bush) and brought them home to see what they would do.

I wish I had a picture of how sad they were when we moved to Virginia. For the two years I had them in RI (I didn't manage that person's resolution and didn't get mine until 2009) and they lived outside I often forgot to water them and they would get to the point where they were just about to die before the hose would find it's way to them. Then I would forget to bring them inside  until after they had lost all their leaves and I thought they were dead. They would live inside in our dining room all winter and were maybe watered 3 times. Both springs we were sure they were dead but we put them outside to see what they would do. Obviously the first year they came back to life, but the second year we were in a state of such change they were fully neglected.

We moved to Virginia in the spring of 2011 and the poor fig sticks were just that - little dead sticks in pots. I asked the moving guys if they would move my trees - and my equally dead blueberry stick. They agreed - very begrudgingly - but said they would be in the van for several days with no water or light. I said to try anyway and we would see what happened.

When my little sticks arrived in VA we decided to just put them in the ground and see what would happen. I bought a much more healthy fig plant at the market and we planted them close together. They were each maybe 2 feet high and there was not much width to them at all.

Well, this summer we enjoyed a few weeks of daily figging from my little fig sticks who have completely taken off. They are no longer little fig sticks, but quickly becoming out of control full fledged trees that are now over 5 feet:

With yummy figs on them:

To be turned into yummy things like pizza:

Brad was looking at the trees and fretting that they were soon going to take over the yard so last night he moved them to the far end of the yard where they will be free to grow into (hopefully) huge fruit bearing monsters. 

I can't believe I live in a place where I own a thriving fig tree!

ps. My blueberry twig has turned into a bush as well and we had blueberries in the morning many times this summer.

The Market is Turning to Fall

These pictures are actually taken from last weekend at the market. I can tell the seasons are changing as the produce is much different now than it was a couple of weeks ago. I am sad to see the sumer produce go, but the upside is now it is squash time at the market!!

Aside from the regular produce, they had some sort of extra fun party going on and the kids (creepily enough) got to make wax hands. This was after they whipped around in some strange ride that shook them up like they were on egg beaters.

The hands now rest on our mantle. They are kind of cool and kind of freaky all at the same time.

A really important part of the market for me is getting to know the people who are growing the food we are lucky enough to eat. In the background behind Jacob is George. He is a wonderful man who has been selling at the market for years. He always has a huge smile on his face and seems to really enjoy his life. He has his younger cousin (who is maybe 70) helping him out so he can take breaks and also wander up and down the market and visit.

Every week he greets us with a huge smile and I really look forward to our visits. Sometimes he even joins us in On the Rise while Jenna has her  weekly pizza / cupcake / hot cocoa breakfast.

It's a big week of squash soup and Jenna and I even roasted some pumpkin seeds. Mmmmm bliss!

Tomato Smiles

I love, love, love tomato season. I know.... I say that about all the seasons. You know, cherry season, peach season, fig season (that one is a new one for me - and I get to grow my very own fig trees), and tomato season. The four seasons. Too bad they kind of all come at once.

I was at the Co-op the other day and to my delight there was a huge mound of local heirloom tomatoes for sale. I love that there are so many choices right now for me to decide where I want to buy my tomatoes. There is always some farmer at the downtown market selling their homegrown goods, there's Jamison's which is just down the road, and there is the Co-op

This brought a tomato smile to my face 

Home Food is Best

We were at the pool last night for the swim team wrap up party. It was a lot of fun - they had an Olympic theme and it was great to see the kids running around having a great time with their friends.

We have lived here a little over a year now and as I was watching them yesterday I was thinking that finally I am starting to feel like we belong. We have done so many moves over the past 7 years and for me, each time is just as difficult.

Anyway, because the party went from 5:00 - 7:00 I told the family they could buy supper at the pool if they wanted to. Jenna could not wait until we got home (fair enough, we are early supper eaters) and she had pool food. I asked Jacob if he wanted something and he said no, that he wanted to wait until we got home because as he put it: "home food is best. I like the food you make because we know where it comes from."

I did a heart smile. It's working!!!

My Happy Belly

How important is a happy belly?

For me, I am discovering that having a happy belly is pretty darn important. I think of the saying "happy wife, happy life" (which I am ashamed to admit makes me think of Joe Gudice on RHNJ) and I think for me that saying is true for me and my belly.

Happy belly, happy life. If I'm treating my belly the right way, then everything else seems to flow the way it should. It's a work in progress for sure - the fact that I attacked the chocolate covered almonds I keep stashed in the pantry earlier today attests to that. But, I'm rediscovering my love and interest in food.

This time of the year, it's so much easier to have a love for local, fresh food. And, I'm lucky because where I live there's an abundance of it. But, the more I eat "real" food the better I feel.

Last weekend I went a little crazy at the Roanoke Farmer's Market and "may" have overbought peaches. Yesterday I realized how bruised and overripe they were getting. I made my first ever peach salsa, and I think it's something I could very easily live on for quite a while before I get sick of it.

It was super easy to make too. I peeled the peaches I had left - they were so ripe the skins pretty much fell off. Also, they were cling free, so getting them off their stones didn't take any work. I chopped them up, chopped up a red bell pepper, a green onion, some cilantro, one hot pepper and threw all that in a bowl. I squeezed on some lime juice - and voila! Yummy and awesome salsa. 

It was a happy belly night last night!