Red in a minor key

Posted on | September 27, 2007 | 12 Comments

This is more of a round-up last weekend and Monday. It’s late because I’ve had something going on every night after work and have slept late every morning because I’m fighting a bit of ick, but keeping it at bay with lots of water, vitamins and herbs. Though I’m less hopeful after last night’s class meeting at the preschool. I walked out of there feeling like about a thousand little germies had hitched a ride home in my head and this morning my throat is all sore and my nose has the onset of viral infection garbage smell when I breathe in. I’m popping cold care and stopping at the pharmacy for some zinc on my way in to work.

I should probably also make a big, spicy pot of garlic and escarole soup with my homemade chili powder.

I dehydrated a bunch of the hot peppers I picked at the farm two weeks ago, a mix of banana peppers that had turned red, chilis and cherry hots. While we waited for Chris to get home from work on Saturday, Lila played on the swingset with her friend Fatou, and I set up at the picnic table with all of my half-finished food preservation projects. The day was hot, but not insufferably so because a light breeze kept the air moving and the shadows are so long that we stayed in partial shade.

I worked the dry pepper bits into flakes and some powder with the mortar and pestle and as I worked I thought about my sister, so when I finished that task, I sat down and wrote her a letter to send along with a little baggie of the pepper.

I miss her more than I could possibly communicate here and hope that one day we’ll be able to live close to each other so we can get our food and garden geek on together on a regular basis.

I started this labor-intensive red pepper relish on Friday night. The recipe for Pugliese Pepper Relish—which I got from the great site, Kitchen Gardeners International—takes three days to complete. What you see here is the vegetables soaking in salt and their own juices.

Shortly after I snapped this shot, I dumped them into a colander and rinsed the heck out of them, let them drain, then dumped them back into the bowl and covered with the vinegar. I didn’t have enough white wine vinegar so I mixed in some cider. I guess it won’t taste quite as refined, but that’s okay, this kind of substitution suits my peasant nature.

I’ve been meaning to take a photo of the twelve half-pints of finished relish, but anytime I’m home it’s dark and my indoors nighttime shots are worthless. You’ll just have to believe me when I tell you that, hott damn, they’re red and purty. I can’t wait to pop open a jar to smother on some fish or chicken or something.

So now we arrive at the question of the pot of cooked plum tomatoes sitting in the fridge. I cleaned off the food mill and while the girls lay back in the grass and chatted, I eavesdropped on their deep conversation, lulled by the turning of the handle.

Lila: But if you die then I will die too. Right?

Fatou: But if I die my mommy will be sad. Right?

Lila: Yeah, but if you die then I will be sad too, right?

Fatou: Uh-huh.

Lila: My Grandpa Ron died. His body stopped working. He’s in the trees and the stars now, right?

Fatou: Uh-huh. My Grandpa lives in Japan, right?

Lila: Well, my other Grandpa isn’t dead and he lives with Pink Grandma Carol in Massatoooshits, right?

Fatou: Uh-huh.

I ended up with a quart of juice that might be nice for Bloody Marys with Sunday brunch, but I’m not seeing an open Sunday for a few weeks, so I need to get it into the freezer. For the sauce, I sautéed a bunch of vegetables (garlic, onion, red and green pepper, mushroom and carrots) to add to the tomato, which I simmered with some of my dried herbs, then fresh basil and parsley at the end. This sauce made a great topping for the pan of stuffed red peppers I made the night before. I missed out on one more photo of red with that meal, too.

At midday, just before we left to head down to the old house to mow and grab another load of crap we have no room for, I took this blown-out shot of the same Dahlia from last week. Totally the wrong time of day to take picture, but goodness, this flower is incredible.

I remember my teacher back in New York, Fiona, telling me to give plenty of attention to the deep and bright colors of autumn, to really take them into my body. The reds and golds and oranges would help sustain my energy through the gray, cold days of winter. I do this with my pantry, as well.

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