Salmon Cabin

mushroom hunting

Foraging and eating wild mushrooms is something that seems to strike terror in the heart of many Americans. Everyone is all too familiar with the newspaper accounts of whole families dying after consuming a tasty meal of mistaken mushrooms. But in other parts of the world where the history and knowledge of careful mushroom identification is passed along from generation to generation, eating wild mushrooms is a commonplace occurrence. 

I grew up with Italian grandparents and other family friends who routinely foraged for mushrooms. So at a very young age I was not only eating finds straight from the woods (with never a worry about being poisoned) but I also knew exactly what porcini looked like in their natural (unsliced, undried) state (and that they were more properly known as Boletus edulis. What a nerdy kid I was!)

In the last few years there's been a rediscovery of foraging and all types of wild edibles. Groups like ForageSF in San Francisco are forming communities around wild foods and foraging. I'm a big supporter of this trend, but I'm also cautious. Anytime something becomes a fad there's the potential for lots of people to rush into it with only a limited amount of knowledge. And at the risk of sounding like I've joined the ranks of fungi fear-mongerers, it's true that in this case lack of knowledge can be fatal.

Right now it's porcini season here in Northern California so fungi foragers are all crazily trying to beat each other to the mushroom motherlode. Luckily porcini don't really have any deadly lookalikes so theoretically it's a good one for beginners. The more serious problem is that no novice is going to stand a chance against the veterans when it comes to knowing where and when to find them!

For anyone who's interested in foraging for mushrooms, I recommend finding a local mycological association to start learning through whatever classes, workshops, and forays they offer. This past weekend I was part of a group foray organized by the Mycological Society of San Francisco.  The wealth of knowledge in this group (and others like it) is always awe-inspiring and extremely humbling. I've never been out with these people without having my head nearly throbbing by the end with newly absorbed information.

This past weekend our group found a fair number of the prize porcini, but the area had been pretty well scoured by large groups of Russian families doing the same thing. My bounty included quite a few beautiful specimens of Coccoli (pictured above). Of the many varieties of mushrooms we found, I chose to feature this one in my post--not just because it's what I found most of--but more so because it's a perfect example of why I am still a very cautious forager. Coccoli, while edible, happen to bear a striking resemblance to one of the most deadly mushrooms in the world, Amanita phalloides (known affectionately as the "Death Cap.") This is the kind of thing that's good to know when you are starting out in the world of foraging!

That said, I encourage people to get outside and find their own food. Just do it wisely and sensibly!

silently growing

"The trees, the flowers, the plants grow in silence. The stars, the sun, the moon move in silence. Silence gives us a new perspective." ---Blessed Mother Teresa

a summer in flowers

For many years my gardening philosophy was basically "If I can't eat it, why would I want to grow it?" Which is not to say I don't also deeply appreciate the aesthetics of plants. It's just that my favorite garden is primarily vegetables and fruits landscaped with edible flowers and herbs--punctuated by native plants and grasses. Because of this (and unlike a lot of gardeners) I've never really developed a strong interest in flowers.

But in the last few years, just to push myself out of my gardening rut I started dedicating a small area to cutting flowers. It's nice to have fresh flowers in the house all summer long plus plenty to give away. And even though I prefer the subtle tonal range of a primarily all-green garden I've realized it's also fun to go wild with color just in the flower patch.

Since I'm not a flower expert I usually stick to really easy things like zinnias, but each year I also add in something new. This year was my first foray into dahlias, which I must say were amazing--so huge and showy. And with a wide variety of color and shape, I can see why these flowers have an almost cult-like following of obsessed growers.

So now as summer is winding down and with it the last of the color in my garden, I wanted to celebrate the cheerful, whimsical, and frankly unlikely members of my garden. They've provided me with many moments of unexpected beauty when I was out weeding or harvesting my vegetables. Flowers, I salute you! 

cherry tomato bonanza

There are two varieties of cherry tomatoes I plant in my garden every year--Sun Gold and Sweet 100. They are both so sweet and tasty, fun to snack on right off the vine and wonderful tossed into pasta. The one thing they are not so good for is making sauce (too sweet, too seedy). So at the end of summer when they are growing faster than we can eat them, I've found the best way to preserve their delicious flavor is to slow roast them and then store in olive oil.

Last week I tackled the surplus of just the Sun Golds (I'm hoping to get to the Sweet 100s this week). After picking several baskets full I sliced them all in half, spread them out on trays lined with parchment paper (until I ran out and switched to foil), misted them with good olive oil and sprinkled (very lightly) with salt. Some people like to add in herbs or garlic too, but I like mine plain and simple.

Then I put them in the oven at 220F for a couple hours until they were shriveled up but still had a little juice left inside (chewy as opposed to crispy). Then I crammed them into jars and covered in olive oil.

Now when we're in the dark days of winter we'll still have memories of the fresh taste of summer.

strawberry fields

A few weeks ago a friend told me her favorite local strawberry grower, "Sally Strawberry" was going out of business and selling off frozen strawberry crowns bulk-ordered from a commercial nursery. Within minutes I was emailing Sally to place an order. Besides being a great bargain, this was also a unique opportunity to get the popular and very tasty 'Chandler' variety that's difficult to find at the retail level, especially at this time of year. 

Around here gardeners usually buy strawberry starters at garden centers in late winter/early spring, but for our Northern California climate, Sally believes this is the worst possible planting strategy. She says plants bought at this time are freshly dug and will grow, but only have limited fruit production. Instead, she recommends using a summer planting system and transplanting in early September.

So last Friday I prepped my berry beds with fresh compost and drove out to Sally's stand to pick up my order. I had never seen frozen strawberry crowns before, but they reminded me of bare root trees--gnarly, dried up root balls that looked like something to be tossed out with the yard waste. Within days of planting them though all the crowns already had their first set of vibrant green leaves opening and expanding. Nature is so amazing.

According to Sally, in our area the Chandler berries will blossom in March and ripen in late April or early May.  They should produce for about 5 weeks (until mid June) and then again in August through early September. The question now is how I'm going to wait a seven or eight months to taste the results! I've actually had pretty decent crops of strawberries the past few years (using the conventional spring planting method) so I'm very excited to see what I'll be able to achieve with this new variety and planting system. Looking forward to lots of spring strawberry desserts and more of my delicious sun-dried strawberry preserves.

(Photo taken in July of this summer's crop.)

a striped serpent in a sea of cucumbers

I've been a very lazy pickler this year. By this time last year I was feeling guilty that I had only made two batches of dill pickles and one of bread and butter pickles. And this summer I still haven't pickled anything at all! It certainly hasn't been for lack of ingredients because my cucumbers are coming in way faster than we can eat them. I'm picking at least three and up to ten a day!

Luckily friends keep coming by for fresh produce and I've been sending them all home with bags full of cukes (plus squash of course, basil and now corn too). I love feeding my little community but I know I'm going to be lamenting my own lack of pickles in a couple months. Better get to it soon.

I always try to grow several cucumber varieties but this year was the first time I tried the Armenian "striped serpent." It hasn't been very prolific but the arm's-length (and I have long arms!) fruit are spectacular looking!

 

sorry squirrels

I've written before about the old walnut tree in my yard and how I usually leave all the nuts for the squirrels to enjoy. That was until I discovered a recipe for Nocino, an Italian liqueur made from green (unripe) walnuts on Elise Bauer's blog, "Simply Recipes."

Since I recently bottled my spring batch of limoncello, all my glass canisters were empty and ready to be filled up with a new cooking project. It was either this or a big batch of pickles (which frankly would not have been a bad idea either since I'm drowning in cucumbers.) But of course I never can pass up trying something new.

So this weekend I harvested several buckets of walnuts (I actually did leave quite a few on the upper branches to ripen for the squirrels) and set up a Nocino work station outside on my garden table. I love any opportunity to prepare (or eat!) food outdoors.

In Italy, Nocino is typically made in late June when the nuts are still very soft and easy to cut. But like everything in my garden this year, I seem to be running almost a month behind. My walnuts were starting to develop a bit of a shell inside, but luckily it was thin enough that I could still cut and quarter them with my cleaver. It was actually quite a bit easier than zesting all those lemons for the limoncello!

After they were all cut up I put them into my glass canisters with vodka, sugar and spices. I followed Elise's recipe (which she had originally gotten from David Lebovitz' book Room For Dessert) but varied the spices slightly and added in a little star anise for fun.

Almost immediately the green color started to leach out of the walnut skins and into the vodka. Fun science! Apparently it will continue to get darker and darker over the next six weeks until it's a very dark brown.

 
When I was researching Nocino I also came across recipes for French green walnut liqueurs, green walnut wine as well as pickled green walnuts. Has anyone tried any of these?

I hope I like the outcome of this experiment because the preparation was unbelievably quick and easy. If it's really good, the squirrels are going to be in big trouble next year!

living in the moment

"Live in the present. Do the things that need to be done. Do all the good you can each day. The future will unfold."  --Peace Pilgrim

Those were the first words I read today and I wanted to pass them along. I've mentioned before that I subscribe to a daily inspirational Word for the Day from A Network for Grateful Living. The above was today's quote. Even if the message is something we all know, it's amazing how much we (well, at least I) need to be regularly reminded of it. I couldn't have started the day with better marching orders.

And as for the photo above...after months of effort I've finally completed my newest addition to the garden--a small pond. I'll be writing more about this in days to come, but in the meantime I just wanted to share a moment of the serenity.

stuffed mystery squash

I notice in the winter I tend to write a lot about food and cooking and in the summer more about gardening and the outdoors. Most of the reasons for that are fairly obvious--when it's cold we stay indoors, around the hearth and our bodies crave more calories. In the summer we're outdoors, there's more gardening to do and less time to be fussing over a hot stove.

But that's not to say my interest in food or cooking wanes in the summer (far from it!) It's just that I find I have less to say about it. The produce of summer really requires so little culinary intervention in order to be wonderful. A simple sliced tomato with fresh basil leaves and a drizzle of good olive oil needs no grand preparation to be sublime.

In the past few weeks I've been eating many delicious meals straight from the garden, but most have involved so little actual cooking it seems silly to write about them. But occasionally I have a new insight or twist on something that I want to make a note of.

This past weekend I was trying to get a grip on the squash overload again (it's gotten to the point where anyone who visits me is not allowed to leave without taking at least one squash home) but didn't have much time to cook and wanted to whip up something quick and easy with ingredients I had on hand. I've been making a lot of stuffed zucchini lately because the kids love them and they are so versatile--great served hot or cold, at a picnic or at the dinner table. So I decided to make a variant on that using my cute round grapefruit-size squash instead.

A digression about these squash. Sometimes I'm a very meticulous gardener--carefully documenting what, when, where, how I'm planting. Other times I get impulsive and whimsical, planting this and that here and there and thinking, "Oh, I don't need to make a note of this, I'll remember what I did." And then of course I inevitably forget and as seeds start sprouting I find myself staring quizzically at the leaf shapes trying to discern what these plants are. This year I've had a couple instances of this, including with these squash. I'm almost positive I planted the "Rond de Nice" variety. But as far as I know these squash are always green. Yes, most green squash will mature to orange but these are starting out that way. Any thoughts on this out there? Is there an orange "Rond de Nice" or is it something else?

Anyway, back to cooking...I started with my typical stuffed zucchini formula (saute onions with the squash interior then add bread crumbs, grated parmesan, herbs and eggs) but because the size of these squash made a larger portion, I decided to make it more of a hearty main course by also adding a little of my homemade breakfast sausage which I had in the freezer from this past March. Then I roasted them for about 40 minutes.

I thought the results were very tasty and the presentation looked cute too. The only thing I didn't like was that unlike zucchini, the skin on these was a little too tough and strong-tasting to eat. But there was still plenty to enjoy with just the filling. Now if only I could identify what squash these actually are!

corn on the 4th of july

When I was little I remember my father (who grew up in Ohio) saying corn should be "knee high by the 4th of July." But once I started growing my own corn I realized that unless he was talking about the knee height of a giant, that saying certainly didn't match my experience.

Case in point, today my corn is eight feet high! Granted, we have a long growing season here in California, but corn shoots up so fast I don't know how late you'd have to plant for it to be only knee high by this date. (Can anyone comment on this old adage?)

In my garden this week the corn tassels emerged followed by the first beginnings of a few ears of corn. It's always so exciting to see the tall grassy stalks suddenly transformed by the protruding ears. And I love seeing the beautiful corn silk in the sun.

Last year, I harvested a small crop of corn in the middle of August. This year, I'm growing about twice as much and I think it the harvest will be earlier. Looking forward to it! But in the meantime, today I'm celebrating my independence from factory farming by enjoying the rest of all my homegrown produce!