Fried Rice

I read those two simple words somewhere on my internet travels recently and they wouldn't leave my brain.  I became obsessed with making some for dinner.  My grandmother used to make it with celery, onions, chicken broth, and whatever else was in the fridge. There are infinite combinations, as this is a meal one typically makes when trying to create something new and inspired out of leftovers.  It just so happened that I had an eggplant to use (they continue to show up in the garden despite my saying they were winding down a half dozen eggplants ago) and a few of our smaller, just-harvested purple carrots.

So, I made fried rice, and I must say, it was FANTASTIC, though there was one little snafu. 

I tried to keep the recipe simple, taking a large part of it from a Mark Bittman adaptation (the video is worth watching) of a Jean-Georges Vongerichten recipe found via Smitten Kitchen, and little from a more traditional Food & Wine recipe, and a smidge from this Food Network recipe.  But it's simple.  Really.

The most important thing I learned from my internet research is that you must use leftover rice.  If you make it fresh, it'll be too mushy.  You can prepare fresh rice several hours ahead and then refrigerate it until dinner if you are not in possession of true leftover rice.  Also, it should be noted that Jean-Georges' version has a fried egg on top, which is a unique option that may really appeal to most people, but I have a thing about egg yolks, and prefer mine scrambled, so that is how I've done it here.  And, I've added shrimp, because, why not?

Shrimp Fried Rice
serves 4*

1/2 cup peanut oil
4 eggs, lightly beaten
4 cups leftover rice (I used Basmati)
2 Tablespoon minced garlic
2 Tablespoon minced ginger
2 cups sliced leeks, white and light green parts only (from 2 medium leeks)
2 teaspoons sesame oil
4 teaspoons soy sauce
1 Japanese eggplant, diced small (about 2 cups)
1 carrot, diced small (about 1 cup)
16 shrimp, peeled and deveined
kosher salt
freshly ground pepper

 

Saute the garlic and ginger in 1/4 cup peanut oil over medium heat until brown, but don't burn it.  It should be crispy.  Remove the garlic and ginger with a slotted spoon and let cool on a paper towel.  Season with kosher salt.

Cook the shrimp in the remaining oil quickly until pink. Season with salt and pepper, and set aside.

Add the rest of the oil and the leeks to the pan, cooking on medium low for about 10 minutes, until tender but not brown.  Season with kosher salt. 

Add carrots and eggplant, cooking for few more minutes.

Add the eggs and scramble until cooked. 

(This is where the snafu begins to reveal itself.  I panicked as soon as I added the egg, because it seemed to coat the vegetables, rather than breaking up into little bits.  You may wish to scramble the egg separately, but in the end, we had little egg bits, and it was fine.  It was just that... the egg bits were a lavender color.  The purple carrots stained the egg, and went on to stain the rice.  Can you see the little egg bits here?)

Raise heat to medium and add the rice, cooking until heated through and a little browned.  (I let it sit for a while without stirring to obtain the browning effect.)  Stir in the soy sauce, sesame oil, and reserved shrimp, garlic and ginger.  Serve and enjoy.

*This recipe does technically make enough for four people to have a decent-sized dinner, but we found it so irresistable that we couldn't help ourselves in consuming more than the allotted amount, despite its unusual color.

 

A very unique dish!  I strongly recommend making the fried rice, even if you just follow the Jean-Georges recipe. Or, add whatever vegetables you have in place of the eggplant and carrots. Or, use chicken or pork instead of shrimp. Or, if you have some purple carrots and want to eat something a little weird, feel free to follow my recipe to the letter!

Purple Carrots

 

Well, whaddya know?  I planted a few carrots back in June, and I've been waiting for the tell-tale sign that a carrot is ready to harvest: you can see the top of the carrot emerging from the soil.  I brushed off the soil around the base of each plant and didn't see anything.  I waited and waited and waited some more, then finally decided not to wait any longer, as the giant greens were spilling over onto the younger fall seedlings trying to make a go of it on either side.  We've yet to have much success in the carrot department, so I wasn't too hopeful, but I thought we might have a couple worth eating.  I dug in my spade and was amazed to find legitimate carrots!  Big, purple ones! 

It was so long ago that I had forgotten what variety of carrots I planted.  I never think that's going to happen when I plant something, but it inevitably does.

Aren't they pretty?

This is what they look like all cut up. 

They should be purple, through and through. Some of them were whiter in the middle, which I'm guessing is a sign of age?

We have lots more carrots growing, in a variety of colors, that I planted at the end of July.  They should be ready in another month or so. If the weather cooperates, maybe we can hang on and harvest them close to Thanksgiving.

We've trimmed the greens off the top (leaving only an inch) and plan to use these few carrots in the next week or so. 

If we had enough to store, they could keep for months in a barrel filled with damp sand or sawdust in the basement.  Maybe someday we'll get to try that, but I'm happy to have these for now!

I will note that my fingers were slightly purple after peeling and cutting these, not quite like handling beets, but noticeably stained.  You can see how they bled a little onto the cutting board.  That leads to a funny story, which I'll share in my next post.

Happy weekend!!

Eggplant with Ground Beef

It appears that the Japanese eggplant may be winding down, though we've had a really good run.  There were some bugs that ate a few holes in the leaves, but they didn't affect production at all.  Once again, eggplant was a winning crop for us this year.

We had a couple of eggplant to use for dinner last night, but this recipe isn't really about the eggplant, as much as an excuse to share the way I prepared the ground beef that goes with it.  I grew up eating, and my mom still often makes Moussaka a la Greque, originally from the New York Times Cookbook, which is a delicious, but heavy meal, and a labor-intensive casserole to prepare.  I think I might have made it once.  But I use part of the recipe- the seasoning and the ground beef (traditionally, it's ground lamb)- all the time, with eggplant over rice, or sometimes as the stuffing in red peppers, topped with tomato sauce.  It starts with onions and butter, which is just the beginning of good smells wafting through the house, and then you add the ground beef, red wine, tomato paste, parsley, and cinnamon.  Yes, cinnamon.  It works so nicely.  I highly recommend it.

Eggplant with Ground Beef

2 thin or 1 large eggplant, chopped
2 T olive oil
1 pound ground beef (Note: I go for 85% lean with this recipe; too lean, means less flavor)
2 T butter
1 large onion, diced
1/4 cup chopped parsley
1/4 cup red wine
1 1/2 T tomato paste
1/8 t cinnamon

Sprinkle the eggplant with salt.  Heat the oil in a skillet on medium-high and saute the eggplant until cooked through, and a little browned.  Set aside.

Melt the butter in the pan and saute the onions on medium, until they are slightly browned and softened.  Add the ground beef and stir until cooked through.  Then add the tomato paste, red wine, parsley and cinnamon, and let it simmer for about 10 minutes.  Add the eggplant back in, and season generously with salt and freshly ground pepper.

Serve over rice, and with spinach, or haricot verts (my favorite), or no green vegetable at all if you're able to rationalize for yourself that the (few) vegetables you had at lunch are good enough for one day. 

It's not much to look at (I'm sure someone else could photograph it better), but the smell is irresistible.

One of these days, I do plan to return to posts about more than what we grow (or fail to grown) and what we eat.  My sister and I went to the Brimfield Antiques Show last Friday, and I picked up a few items that will be used to decorate our new bathroom.  Matt has been caulking and priming and we're very close to running out of little details to wrap up.  I've also been painting a few small things in the basement, including this cute but sad little table I picked up for free early this summer.

 

It feels good to get back into project mode, and I look forward to sharing a few things with you soon.

Purple Cherokee Tomatoes

I am loving these Purple Cherokee tomatoes, and they're still looking good, despite the late blight slowly destroying all thirteen of our tomato plants.

I think they are my second favorite next to the Brandywine, which so far cannot be surpassed.  But these are similar in texture and flavor, and they have a nice purple color.  I'll have to be sure to save some seeds for next year.

They're good sliced for sandwiches (BLTs, tomato/basil/mozzarella, grilled cheese and tomato are a few we've tried so far),

and they made a perfect end-of-summer tomato salad alongside our steak and corn-on-the-cob last night. 

 

 

I just drizzled them with enough olive oil to make them glisten, and seasoned with salt and pepper.  A little garlic or onion or fresh herbs might have been nice, but I decided to let them be.  They were delicious on their own.

 

I hope you all had a nice weekend!

Ratatouille My Way

I have to admit that I have never been a big fan of ratatouille.  Maybe it's because my mom's version has capers in it.  (No offense, Mom.)  You see, I do not like olives AT ALL, and while I tolerate a caper here or there, they remind me of olives, and I think that made it less appealing. But when the garden provided a zucchini, eggplant, and tomatoes that needed to be used, it was all I could come up with on the spot, so I made some. 

And, I must also admit, that it was pretty damn good.  Maybe it was the fact that everything was fresh, or that they grew in my garden, or that I was the one making the ratatouille.  No matter.

There are lots of recipes out there, many with peppers, and capers, and sauce or tomato paste, but I kept this very simple.  It made enough for a side dish with dinner, and then was part of lunch for both of us for a couple of days.

Ratatouille My Way

one medium to large zucchini, sliced
one long, thin eggplant, sliced
three tomatoes, seeds removed and sliced
one onion, sliced
2 large cloves of garlic, minced
1/2 cup basil, minced
1/2 cup parsley, minced
1 Tablespoon fresh thyme, minced

Side note: Look at how pretty this variety of zucchini is when sliced, with it's little ridges.  It has a really nice flavor, too.  It's called Costata Romano.

Roast the eggplant and zucchini slices with a little olive oil in the oven at 450 for 20 minutes.  Meanwhile, slice the onion and cook slowly over medium low for 15-20 minutes.  Add the garlic and stir for one minute.  Add the tomatoes and let them cook for 5 minutes.  Add the eggplant and zucchini and herbs, and cook for about 5 minutes. 

I prefer it served warm, with good bread, but you can also serve it at room temperature.

Happy Labor Day Weekend!

Late Blight on the Tomatoes

A little time has passed and I'm feeling like I'm ready to talk about it. 

At first, I was in denial.  I noticed some spots on the lower leaves of a few tomato plants, and did a little Googling.  I thought it could be late blight, but it could also be a late blight imitator.  Sometimes drought stress causes leaves to spot, and we had been less frequent with our watering.  The trick to distinguishing one from the other is that drought stress will result in spots on the edges of the leaves, while late blight spots can show up anywhere.  And late blight will have a fuzzy white appearance to it. I didn't see anything fuzzy, so I waited.

After a week or so it became more clear.  (These spots didn't start at the edge of the leaves.)

And, then things progressed.

The fruit started to show tell-tale signs of infection.

And I was very sad.  All eight of the tomato plants in the upper garden were showing signs of late blight, and more Googling told me that the right thing to do would be to bag all of the infected plants and bring them to the dump.  Late blight is an airborne disease, and wind will spread it to my other tomato plants, and to my neighbors.  But then I read a little further and it seemed the woman who writes one of the gardening blogs I follow (Skippy's Vegetable Garden) was suffering similarly, and she had decided to remove as many of the diseased leaves as possible, and leave the tomatoes to ripen.  She also sprayed with an organic copper fungicide to slow the spread of the disease.  I've bought some, but I have to admit I haven't used mine yet.

We removed many of the diseased leaves, and some of the tomatoes that were beyond saving, and we decided to wait.  This is what our upper garden looks like today.

This is what it looked like just a few short weeks ago.

There are a few tomatoes that don't have any blight damage, yet.  I'm waiting for them to ripen just enough so I can pick them and let them finish the job inside.  (I put them on the windowsill with fine results, though there are lots of other ways to do it, apparently better ways.) Other tomatoes have a little damage, but you can still eat the remaining, healthy part of the tomato with no ill effects.  For some of the gigantic tomatoes, I've sliced off a big hunk and still had plenty of large, healthy looking slices. 

What else have I learned?

• The late blight won't overwinter in our garden.  It can only survive on live plant tissue.  Still, rotating crops (three years is ideal) is always good practice for preventing other diseases from coming back.
• Late blight won't effect the seeds.  I can still save the seeds from some of the ripe tomatoes and have healthy tomatoes next year. 
• Late blight spreads by air, usually during wet, humid summers.  It has definitely been a very humid summer here.  This is also another reason to water at the base of the plant, and in the morning, so the plants dry in the sun during the day.
• You can prevent late blight by spacing your plants far apart, giving them plenty of air circulation, room to breathe.  We did not do that.

The University of Massachusetts Extension has a great late blight fact sheet, as does Cornell.

The five tomato plants in our lower garden are showing some signs of blight on the leaves, but we've been picking them off and it's been slower to spread, thanks to the mostly dry weather.  The fruit looks okay, so far.  This is where I should be spraying the copper fungicide, to preserve what I can.  I will do that today.

In the meantime, we still have lots of tomatoes to use up, and I've been trying out some new recipes.  I'll share a few soon. 

We Grew a Zucchini!

Most people who grow zucchini complain about having an excess, but we're proud to have produced one.  And there's at least one more that's looking like it'll be ready for picking in a day or so.  I don't know what to attribute it to, but I am curious as to whether or not this guy had something to do with it.

Can you see the snake coiled up in the middle there?  I was not at all happy to see him, and obviously didn't want to get close enough to take a good photo (and was too nervous to think about using the zoom).  Maybe he ate the cucumber beetles (though I still see some) or maybe the wilt disease ran it's course.  No matter.  We will enjoy what we can get.  We had a quick zucchini sauté (courtesy of Smitten Kitchen) alongside a piece of fish the other night.  Just sauté a couple tablespoons of sliced almonds in a couple tablespoons of olive oil for a couple of minutes, then add julienned zucchini and cook for a couple minutes more, and top with salt, pepper, and a little grated parmesan cheese.  You can skip the cheese, but we really thought it added something.  It's amazing how delicious something so simple can be. 

So, that's the good news.  The bad news is that more than half of our tomatoes have succumbed to late blight, and it has probably spread to the five plants that remain in the lower garden. 

Devastated.  Heartbroken.  Too soon to talk about it.  I'll share the terrible details when I'm ready.