Homemade Pickles

Tags

canning, cucumbers, fresh pickles, pickles, pickling, summer vegetables, vinegar

I have a very small garden this year. I’ve got my three rhubarb plants, which have done nicely, four pepper plants, which haven’t after a bounteous year last year, and two cucumber plants. On Sunday, I finally had four cucumbers ripe all at once. With that bounty, I decided to try my hand at pickling.

Notice I didn’t say canning. Now I know canning is a valuable skill, and I’m sure I’ll regret it when global catastrophe hits, we no longer have refrigeration, and have to submit to our new cruel Amish overlords, with their ample supplies of canned goods to hold them over while the rest of us starve.

I remember my mom and grandma canning things as a child, and I don’t want any of it. I don’t want to buy jars, make sure they are disinfected, boil things, make sure lids are sealed, and place them into a dusty basement. I want to eat my things now. Also, notice I have only two cucumber plants. That’s one jar.

Fresh pickles are something I’ve seen in Poland, and I thought I’d try my hand at here. So, I went to the great Internet cookbook and found a nice recipe for pickles. After buying the necessary spices (ALL ON SALE FOR $1 EACH!!!) I set to work.

I sliced the pickles into chips and put some salt on them to draw out the water. I also added my lonely jalapeno(see below), which is the only one I’ve harvested this year. Finally I cut up about half a red pepper into small bits for a bit of color in my pickles. We then proceeded to try the old Peter Piper Picked a Peck of Pickled Peppers tongue twister out, being so inspired by our efforts.

MY LONELY JALEPENO!

The wonderful daughter mixed the water, vinegar, salt, sugar, into a saucepan. Once it started to boil, I added the spices and set it off the heat to let it cool for five minutes.

Next I poured it over the cukes, and added a packet of dill.

Finally, I put it in the fridge and waited until tonight to dig in. The picture below shows how the bowl looked after 24 hours in the fridge.

How were they?

Well, they were crunchy and a bit sour with a hint of heat at the end. I also thought they were a bit too garlicky. I definitely would cut back on the garlic next time. Also, next time I think I’d double the sugar. I really have grown to like sweet pickles. The next time, I might try to make a batch of sweet pickles instead.

The kids, on the other hand, loved the pickles. The delightful son exclaimed, “These are the best pickles ever!”

So there you go. It may not last forever, sure they aren’t canned, and yes the Amish may shun me for my laziness, but they’re fresh and homemade. If you have about an hour to kill, you can make them too!

The Wonderful Daughter’s Caprese Salad

Tags

basil, caprese salad, Cooking, Daughter, mozzarella, olive oil, parenting, recipe, salt, summer, tomatoes

One of the joys of having children who are not itty bitty anymore is that they can do things on their own.*  The wonderful daughter is nine years old now, and is probably the most responsible member of our household.  She has been like this since she was a baby.  When she was that small, we used to say that you could put her in a room full of guns, knives, and poison and she would be just fine.

*I just ran into a teacher friend of mine this morning at the bookstore, who also has two kids, three years apart, just like mine.  However, his are four and fourteen months.  I was blissfully enjoying an iced coffee perusing the travel book section while my kiddos were at art camp at The Foundry in St. Charles.  We tried carrying on a conversation, but he was um…distracted. His little ones were running in opposite directions, with injury or breaking of merchandise a constant threat.  The point is, small children require CONSTANT VIGILANCE, which is a phase of life I am glad to be past.  By the way, he was doing a fantastic job…better than I would have done if I had to watch my kiddos solo at that age.

Anyway, my wonderful daughter is now nine.  She enjoys cooking, and one of the things she loves is caprese salad.  Earlier this summer, we planned to make this for some friends of ours, and she volunteered to make it.  Well, she did an outstanding job, and has made it a couple of times on her own since.  The first time, I watched her pretty close as she chopped tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, and basil from our garden.  I have to say, her knife skills are really good.  I’d like to say that her time in Mr. Crowder’s cooking club paid off, as she holds the knife correctly, and keeps her small digits clear of the blade.  So, this last time, I pretty much left her alone in the kitchen as she chopped and assembled her bowl of summertime goodness.  Sure, I checked in a couple of times, but overall, she was cooking solo.

I’d like to think that I’m not a neglectful parent, just trusting.  The point is, I’m glad she’s learned how to prepare a dish on her own, and has the confidence to manage her way around the kitchen.

I am very proud of her, and glad she’s becoming independent, but I’m sure that as time goes on, I’ll wish that she was my little girl who needed me for everything.  However, for now, I think I’ll just enjoy a delicious dish prepared by my wonderful daughter.

So, good reader I leave you with two things, a recipe for caprese salad below, and a question: What was the first thing you cooked or prepared on your own?  Let me know.

CAPRESE SALAD

Two pints of grape tomatoes, cut in half

A good amount (we usually use a whole pound) of fresh mozzarella, cubed

chopped fresh basil to taste

three good lugs of extra virgin olive oil

salt (to taste)

pepper (optional)

Anthonio’s Taverna

Tags

Anthonio's Taverna, caprese salad, fried pickles, gyro burger, macaroni, St. Louis, St. Louis Zoo, The Hill

The wonderful children and I have adventure day once a week this summer.  On that day we go and do something fun or different around town.  Last Tuesday, we went to the zoo on a very rainy, cool morning.  There is nothing better than an empty St. Louis zoo.  After a pleasant morning petting stingrays, admiring penguins, and gazing at gazelles, we were hungry for a new place for lunch.  So we headed off to the Hill for something different.

I’d heard of Anthonio’s Taverna before, but every time we’d tried to visit, it had been insanely busy.  On this Tuesday, that was not a problem.  The children and I were promptly seated, and we quickly decided on our meal.

First off, go for the fried pickles.  I’m a total sucker for fried pickles, but only if they are fried pickle CHIPS, and not fried pickle SPEARS.  Anthonio’s serves them with a tzatziki sauce, and they were fantastic…we ate them so quickly that I neglected to get a picture.  Regardless, they are lightly battered, perfectly crisp, and a perfect match with tzatziki (which also has cucumber in it).

The wonderful daughter had a Caprese salad, while the delightful son had macaroni and cheese.

The Caprese salad was excellent with wedges of roma tomatoes served with big chunks of fresh mozzarella.  It was served with a helping portion of herbed olive oil, placed on a bed of large fresh basil leaves.  It was excellent.  She ate it right up.

As for the macaroni, the delightful son kept saying how buttery it was.  Usually he demands bright yellow macaroni, but even in this cheesy white sauce, he was satisfied.  And I must say, I snuck a few bites, and it was extraordinarily creamy.  The waitress (who was wonderful) told my son that she regularly orders the mac and cheese herself.

As for me, I had a Big Anthony burger.  This cheeseburger comes with a healthy dose of gyro meat on top.  Overall, the burger was juicy and moist, and the gyro meat was perfectly spiced.  I had it with a side zucchini salad, rather than fries, seeing that I’d already gorged myself on fried pickles.

The salad was a real treat.  Diced zucchini was contrasted by tart, crisp apple chunks.  It was a very refreshing summer salad, and was a great way to end my meal.

Our service was excellent, and we were in and out, and on our way to an afternoon fishing expedition to complete our adventure day.  We didn’t catch anything, but that was okay.  Anthonio’s had already been the real catch of the day.

A Trip to the Dentist

Have you ever heard Bill Cosby’s routine about the dentist?  I’ve always found it funny, but until recently, I imagined dental hi-jinks were just comedic exaggerations.

Last week I went to visit my dentist.  Before I go any further, let me say I like my dentist.  I picked him because he is the closest dentist to my home, and overall I’ve been pleased with the level of dental care they’ve given.  It’s a nice modern office, and I think my dentist seems like a pretty nice guy.  I’ve even had the same hygienist every time I’ve visited.  She seems like a nice lady, does a good job, and does her very best every time to tell me how much richer and fuller my life would be if I would just floss.*

*Do you floss?  It seems like such a disgusting, mildly painful way to spend two extra minutes a day.  How did flossing become a thing?  I suspect that it was originally seen as a way to get corn on the cob out of your teeth, but then the dental community latched on to it as a way of making dental care unpleasant at home as well.

As I said, I’ve always had good service with my usual dental hygienist, but this time I had an older woman clean my teeth.

Imagine your grandma using unfamiliar advanced computer technology and power tools simultaneously.  Got it?  Now imagine her doing it while putting her hands in your mouth.

When this unfamiliar lady (who I am sure is actually a nice lady) called me in, I was immediately apprehensive.  I know and am comfortable with my usual hygienist, she has my trust.  What is this new lady going to be like?  Should I be scared?  Am I being an ageist?

Yes and yes.

Anyway, she sat me in the chair and told me it was time for x-rays.  She proceeded to jam the mouth guard between my teeth, and stepped back to take the picture.  It made the sound which sends radiation hurtling through my face, and then goes to the computer screen.  Lo and behold, she can’t get the image on the screen.  She called my usual hygienist in for assistance.  At this point, I should have cried out for help.  But, my usual hygienist showed her the problem (the screen wasn’t turned on, once again, imagine your grandma), and my new hygienist went on to snap my tooth pics.  Two, count em, two pics didn’t take, and she had to re-do them.  Maybe my head moved, who knows.  All I know is that I got two extra helpings of radiation at no extra charge!

Finally, we get to the cleaning.  Before we started, she asked me, “I see you like the Cavitron, is that what you want me to use today?”  Obviously, I would prefer anything to the small dental pick-ax, and yes, what I usually have is a small whirring machine that shoots out little jets of water that power-wash the tartar away.  I repiled, “Yes, I’ll take the Cavitron.”

Now here is where things got dicey on many levels.  First off, I should have been concerned that once she got me back on the chair, she had tremendous difficulty getting the light that shines into your mouth adjusted.  Next she put the little vacuum hose into my mouth and let it hang there dangling from my gaping maw.  And then I sat and waited.

KKKKKKKKWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWKKKKKKKKKKWWWWWW went the vacuum hose.

And I waited.  Finally, she went and asked for assistance a second time from my usual hygienist, who is next door, having a pleasant conversation with her patient.  How desperately I wished to be on the other side of the divider.  She showed my hygienist how to get the machine started, and went back to her (probably annoyed) patient.

And ready!

So Doris (I think I’ll call her Doris) proceeded to get up close and personal with me.  Let the tartar destruction begin!

Nothing.  No water would come out of the Cavitron.  Doris was confused.  I was still sitting there with a hose in my mouth feeling more concerned and annoyed.  Now one other thing I noticed at this point is that Doris didn’t have what one would call a fresh scent.

So, she toddled off to my saintly usual hygienist AGAIN and asked for assistance.  She came by a THIRD time and showed her that to get the water to flow, you need to use the foot pedal.

I am too polite to scream, “Are you familiar with the Cavitron Doris?”

Probably because I have a bib on and a suction hose hanging from my lower lip.

AND FINALLY WE BEGIN.  But immediately before we begin, Doris turns away from me and sneezes!

OH!  MY!  GOODNESS!  DID YOU USE THE CROOK OF YOUR ARM?  I COULDN’T SEE!  I’M SCARED!  WHY ARE YOUR GLOVES WET?  IS IT THE WATER FROM THE CAVITRON?  MY MOUTH?  YOUR MOUTH????

And with that, Doris finally got her theoretically clean hands in my mouth.

I do like my usual hygienist, but man, she has done some painful things to me through the years.  She goes after my tartar with passion, getting right down to the gums and in between my teeth, occasionally making me wince.  And I’m OK with that, because that’s HER JOB.

Doris, perhaps already a bit nervous about how things were going, was less thorough.  On the bright side, not a drop of blood was shed during this dental appointment.  However, I’m pretty sure Doris was clueless as to what she was doing with the mini tooth power washer.  Now, if you gave her the dental pick ax, I suspect she would have been OK.

Instead, she cleaned my teeth at a leisurely pace, with water sometimes gushing, and sometimes dribbling out of the machine.  Interestingly, she seemed impervious to the fact that I was drowning a couple of times and had to close my mouth round the Cavitron to suck up the water.  Also, there was a lack of control.  I had water all over my glasses, running down my neck, and even had some reach my back.

“You won’t need a shower today, he he!”

Shut it, Doris.

After she finished, she gave me a little square of gauze to wipe off my glasses.

The final part of the procedure is the polishing procedure.  Hopefully, most of you know the drill (no pun intended).  They load up a mini buffer with gritty paste, and polish you up as good as can be expected after 35 years of dental wear and tear.

Doris proceeded to polish my lower chompers.  Everyone knows this stuff is disgusting, and I was waiting for a refreshing rinse to cleanse the nastiness off my teeth once she finished the lower set.

Instead I was greeted by a blast of air on my teeth and gums.

What the hell Doris!

I don’t know if she thought my teeth needed to set in the polish for a bit, but after air blasting the lower row, she set off again on polishing the upper row.  I thought surely we would get a rinse now, but instead she gave my upper row of teeth a blast of air as well.  FInally, FINALLY, after that blast of air, she sprayed my mouth with a trickle of water to remove the polish.

Now, all I had to do was wait for the dentist.

At this point I was not feeling conversational.  I considered ranting about Doris then and there but the problem with dentist offices is that they aren’t private.  Doris was right there, and incompetent as she seemed, would you want to complain about an older lady right in front of her? Or others?  I kept things brief with the dentist, no cavities (as usual), and made a beeline out of there when I was free to go.

After leaving, I called and politely told the receptionist that I would prefer not to have that hygienist in the future, at which point she told me that Doris is just filling in for a few days.

Lucky me.

In all, this did make me appreciate talented dental hygienists, but I’m still not going to floss.

Finally, dear readers, do you have any dental horror stories?  Feel free to share in the comment section below.