Asparagus is my absolute fav green vegetable. I like it steamed, roasted, grilled, wrapped in prosciutto. I like asparagus in served any way you can think of so long as it isn’t overcook. Overcooked asparagus should be classified as a crime against humanity. Properly cooked asparagus should have some snap to it, which is why asparagus pickles are a very, very good idea. My recipe is based on Marisa’s from Food in Jars. (Marisa’s was based on the recipe from Putting Up. Circle of life, y’all.)

Never pickled anything? No worries! Pickling only sounds complicated. It’s actually easy-peasy and the rewards more than make up for the hour or so it will take you to make them.

Here’s what you’ll need:

Start by trimming your asparagus. You want it to be about a half inch shorter than your jars so that they will fit. Trim off the ends, reserving them for asparagus soup if you like.

Now you’re ready to blanch the asparagus. Blanching just means plunging the asparagus into boiling water very, very briefly, then submerging into a ice bath to stop the cooking. I’ve found the best way to do this is to bring a large pot of water to a boil on the stove. While waiting for the water to come to a boil, fill the sink with water and add lots ice. (This is a great time to clean out the ice maker.)

When the water is at a rolling boil, remove it from the stovetop and place it on the counter beside the ice-filled sink. Working in batches, drop the asparagus in to the pot and remove with tongs immediately to the ice bath. Continue until all the asparagus has been blanched, the remove from the ice bath to a tea towel to dry.

Place the lemon slices, garlic cloves and dried chills into the sterilized jars. Pack the asparagus into the jars, dividing them evenly. Bring the vinegars, water, salt, pickling spice and red pepper flakes to a vigorous boil on the stove, then pour the pickling liquid into the jars, covering the asparagus but leaving a little head room at the top.

At this point you can either allow the jars to cool and pop them in the refrigerator or process them in a hot water bath for 10 minutes. Either way, wait at least 24 hours before devouring.

I am forever reaching for the twine to truss up a chicken or a pork loin when my hands are covered in cooking goo. By drilling a hole in the top of a mason jar and threading the end of the twine through, you can pull out what you need without gunking up the rest of the ball. Say adios to dirty kitchen twine, y’all.

It’s very rare that words elude me but I have to say, I am stumped. I am trying to come up with the right word for an important project and it’s driving me bananas! Last night I dreamed about flipping through the pages of the dictionary, y’all.

I need a word (or short phrase) that describes the current movement towards gardening, cooking, DIY, crafting, etc. I am rejecting “homesteading” and “urban homesteading” both because the word “homestead” is inherently racist and because I don’t think it really describes the majority of my readers and customers. (Too 70s. Too granola.)

“Self-sufficent” is neither catchy nor true- even those of us with giant gardens can’t come close to claiming self-sufficiency. “DIYers” seems too closely tied to home improvement to serve the purpose. I’ve always thought “crafters” was slightly deeming and it only covers a fraction of what I’m trying to describe.

So what do you call the well-read, thoughtful people who are making deliberate decisions to grow their own food, sew their own clothes, maybe keep a couple of hens or beehives while maintaining a serious profession and living in the city or suburbs? There needs to be a word for these people and I can’t find it.

EDITED TO ADD: Keep in mind that it will work best if the word can be used as a noun, a la homesteaders, crafters, intentionalists (clearly I made that one up.)

So I’m turning to you, my well-read, thoughtful readers, for help. And I’m prepared to pay for the perfect word, in the currency that knitters and crocheters like best- yarn, and lots of it. $300 worth, to be exact.

Here’s how it works:

Leave your suggestion in the comments section of this post. One entry per person and only one suggestion per comment. (In other words, you can’t just throw up a bunch of half-assed suggestions.)  Entries with more than one suggestion will be disqualified, because it violates the rules and without rules, chaos. UPDATED TO ADD: I am dropping the “one suggestion per person” rule because we still aren’t quite there and I want y’all to keep thinking and coming up with ideas. So consider the floodgates OPENED.

The deadline for entering is 11:59 p.m. EST on Tuesday, May 22. Entries posted after that date and time will not be considered.

The winner will be chosen by me, with help from Caroline, Zac and Carrie. The first poster of the winning word or phrase will be declared the winner. The winner gives JMF permission to use their entry in any way we see fit.  The winner will receive an enormous amount of yarn and will probably roll around in it when it arrives at his/her house. Photos of said rolling would be appreciated but are not required.

Ready…set…GO!

We’re still up to our elbows in blackberries here at my mama’s house. Not that I’m complaining, mind you!

Blackberry Syrup is the perfect want to celebrate a bumper crop of blackberries. It’s crazy simple to make, requires only three ingredients and takes less than an hour from start to finish.

Just combine 1 1/2 cups of rinsed blackberries, 1 cup of sugar and 1/2 cup of water in a heavy bottomed pan and place over medium low heat. Bring to the barest of simmers for one hour and then strain the solids through a fine mesh sieve, pressing on the pulp to remove as much juice as possible. Decant into a clean bottle and refrigerate.

Such a nice change from maple syrup!

Completely charmed by this print. $20

“Embroidered” cake, made with sprinkles. So, so brilliant.

Cast iron seared roast chicken. Wow.

Did you know you can use vodka to prevent a poison ivy outbreak? Or to repeal insects? Top 10 Weird Uses for Vodka.

The World According to Stock Photos of Women. So flipping’ funny!

So lovely. $15

Isn’t this honey jar dreamy? $38

Grow your own coffee! $12.00 and in three to four years you’ll harvest your own beans, ready for roasting.

What’s making you happy this week?

I have a sort of standard salad vinaigrette that I make most every night (balsamic vinegar + olive oil + dijon mustard + garlic + salt/pepper + a dash of sugar) but we have been positively besieged by lettuce from our kitchen garden this spring and I thought it would be fun to mix things up a bit.

Since my mom’s blackberries were ripe, I was pretty sure the universe was telling me to make blackberry vinegar. This is one of those cooking project that anyone can do, requiring just three ingredients and a sunny day.

Fill a quart sized jar with blackberries and toss in a few sage leaves. Smash up the berries and bruise the sage leaves with a wooden spoon and cover the berries with vinegar. You can use white, red wine, rice wine or cider vinegar; whichever you have on hand. Each will give a different flavor profile to the finished vinegar but all our delicious.

Put the lid of the jar and place it outside in a sunny spot for an afternoon or two, then strain the berries and sage out of the vinegar and decant into a clean bottle.

To make vinaigrette mix 3 parts blackberry vinegar with one part olive oil and one part honey, salt and pepper to taste.

]]> http://www.fiberfarm.com/2012/05/blackberry-sage-vinegar/feed 5 http://www.fiberfarm.com/2012/05/made-in-the-shade http://www.fiberfarm.com/2012/05/made-in-the-shade#comments Sun, 13 May 2012 16:57:23 +0000 Caroline http://www.fiberfarm.com/?p=18033

If you’re walking out in the pasture on the morning side of noon, you’ll see the ewes and their lambs in their favorite shady spot.

There’s really only one phrase for this kind of sheepy relaxation.

It comes up in the opening of  Vergil’s Eclogues– lentus in umbra. It’s used as a bit of an accusation, but it still comes out sounding like one of the nicest phrases. Literally, it translates as slow in the shade, but, really, made in the shade is as exact as our idiom gets.

I think of that phrase whenever I see them there in their shady spot, and, really, it’s exactly how the flock deserves to be– kicked back with their lambs, grazing the spring grass and clover, under the shade of the trees.

There is really nothing nicer. Happy Sunday, you guys.

I’ve been on a bit of a curd making binge lately. Lemon, lime, blood orange, clementine- you name a citrus fruit, I’ve turned it in to curd.We’ve eaten curd on toast, used it as filling for a layer cake, stirred it into tea and spooned it over ice cream.

So when I saw the gorgeous strawberries growing in my mama’s Texas garden, I was overjoyed at the prospect of strawberry curd. The results where delicious beyond my wildest expectations and such a lovely shade of pink.

I had plenty of strawberries on hand, so I made a jumbo batch of curd. You can easily halve this recipe, but you’ll regret it when you taste it, I promise!

You’ll need:

32 ounces strawberries
4 large eggs
6 large egg yolks
2/3 cup sugar
1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

Start by rinsing the strawberries. No one like gritty curd, so you really want to make sure they’re throughly rinsed. Remove the tops and puree the berries. I used a food processor but you can just as well use a blender or a food mill. Pour the strawberry puree in to a sauce pan and place over low heat.

While the strawberries are coming to heat, combine four large eggs, six egg yolks and 2/3 of a cup of sugar and whisk well.

When the strawberry puree starts to bubble on the stove, remove from heat. Slowly add the hot strawberry puree to the sugar/egg mixture one spoonful at a time, whisking continuously.

The aim here is to slowly raise the temperature of the sugar/egg mixture without scrambling the eggs. This is referred to as “tempering” eggs. Just proceed slowly and you have nothing to fear.

Once the strawberry mixture has been throughly incorporated into the sugar/egg mixture, return the curd to the sauce pan and place the pan over low heat. Whisking constantly, heat the curd for 5 to 7 minutes, slowly increasing the heat to medium. When the mixture reaches a boil, continue to stir for one minute and remove from heat. Stir in 2 tablespoon of lemon juice. (At this point, most recipes call for adding several tablespoons of butter. I have made curd with and without the butter and I greatly prefer it without. The butter tends to blunt the favor of the fruit, which is just silly.)

Pour the curd into jars and refrigerate until completely cooled.

Happy one-week-old Birthday, little pups! I can’t believe it’s only been a week– it seems like they’ve been with us always!