A Jersey Girl in Portland

Is there a more bitter nut than Chestnuts?

Chestnuts are everywhere in Portland right now. They fall from trees, hitting the parked cars with a decisive, metallic thunk. They’re so pretty, so fat. I wonder how they taste?

Truth be told, I have tried chestnuts. The chef at the first restaurant I worked had a chestnut confection on the dessert menu. He used the French variety that look like acorn-sized brains the color of macadamia nuts. They tasted like starchy dirt.

But, I’m older now and more willing to experiment. So, I set out with a bucket and gathered chestnuts.

I have two batches working. Half the nuts are in the oven, roasting at 400 degrees. The other half simmer in lightly salted water.

Simmered chestnuts are much easier to shell. I cut the hot nut in half and scraped out the meat with a spoon. I did the same with the baked batch but they cooled quickly and the meat turned to wood -- hard and unyielding.

But this is an experiment so it's normal to hit-and-miss. I'm going to make a pureed soup and a creamy dessert with the nuts.

One batch (the boiled nut) will be combined with cream to make a pudding. 1-1/2 cups chestnuts, 1 cup heavy cream, 1/4 cup sugar (to start) and 5 cloves

The baked chestnuts (2 cups) will be soup. They will be combined with 3 cups chicken stock, bay leaves, a little salt and one large garlic clove.

They still taste a little like dirt but with a nutty, slightly bitter flavor. Hopefully the bitterness will cook off in the stock and cream. I expect the soup to be a little bitter but I think the cream will curb the bite in the dessert version.

Both simmered for 20 minutes

 

Later..... the same day

The soup is beyond saving. It’s bitter and without merit. The pudding has potential. I added a little more cream, milk and 3 Tbsps of maple syrup. Oh, and a handful of dried cherries.

Success! The pudding has a sweet, rich start. Hooray for me. I've found a simple application for the abundant chestnuts in the ‘hood.  

Wait a darned minute. Here it comes, the throat-seizing, acrid burn of bitterness. The pudding tastes terrible too. As Charlie Brown would say, "Arrrrrgh!"

Damn. Neither version is worth saving. I guess street-foraged, North American chestnuts are nasty and bitter, bitter, bitter. It’s a taste that stays on the back (and sides) of the tongue like burned soup. You can’t taste anything else until the flavor stench of bitterness is washed away.

Later still.... the same day.

I've been working on this post for half an hour and I still can't get the bitter taste out of my mouth. Maybe a little whiskey will do it. I must sign off and gargle, anything to purge myself of bitterness.

Best wishes and may your chestnuts be sweet (and if they are, please tell me how),

Nancy

Quick (?) Green Tomato Pickles

The summer arrived and departed rather quickly this year. I think we had maybe two weeks of hot weather and a lot of San Francisco summer-like weather. Cool and windy, warming up in the late afternoon.

The abbreviated summer left many (like me) feeling somewhat cheated. But, pity the poor tomato. Green orbs that will never evolve to the juicy red of full ripeness. What a waste.

But wait! Not only can you fry green tomatoes, you can also PICKLE them. Woo Hoo!

My friend Kim gave me "The Joy of Pickling" by Linda Ziedrich for my birthday. Wouldn't you know, there are a number of recipes for pickles and chutneys using green tomatoes. Apparently, the unripe tomato (like shit) happens. I collected a bag of unripe Romas from my sister, and I was good to go.

According to Ms. Ziedrich, the following recipe is Mennonite (picture starched white caps and aprons on gingham-clad women) in origin.

Quick Green Tomato Pickle

2 1/2 pounds green tomatoes (sliced less than 1/4 inch thick)

1 1/2 pounds (about five medium) white or yellow onions (I julienned them)

1 1/2 tspn mustard seed

2 Tbsp pickling salt

1/2 cup sugar

2 cups cider vinegar

Combine tomatoes, onion, and mustard seed in a crock or large mixing bowl. Sprinkle with salt and mix gently. Let stand for eight to 12 hours. This is why I called them quick (?) pickles. Half a day is far from 'quick' in my mind.

No matter. Here's what the mix looks like:

I used a mix of organic yellow and cippolini onions.

Anyway, the (gist of the) remainder of the recipe is as follows:

Combine sugar and vinegar and stir until the sugar has dissolved.
Drain vegetables well and pack them into quart jars. Top with the vinegar solution. Cap the jar tightly and refrigerate for 24 hours before serving.

The author says the pickles hold from late summer through winter and into spring.

We'll see.

Yours in pickle-love,

Nancy

Experimental pickling. Bypass processing?

I believe in positive kama. Do a good deed and you'll be answered with something nice. I was helping a friend move the other day and aside from the joy of seeing Lee in a beautiful new apartment, I met a fellow pickler named Robin who taught me Another Way to Pickle.

We were driving a load of houseplants and artwork when the conversation turned to pickles. My favorite pickle question popped out. How long do you process your dill pickles (or boil the cucumbers and brine in sealed jars)?

Her answer? Not at all. Really? Not at all. She makes dill pickles the same way her grandmother did.

From the good deed of schlepping stuff for a friend, I got a valuable bit of information.

Here's the process. Sterilize jars and lids, and bring brine to a boil. Preheat  a cool oven (200 degrees). After the jars have boiled for many minutes (I cooked them for ten minutes), pull them from the water (with sterile tongs) one-at-a-time and pack with squeaky clean cukes, grape leaves, garlic, chilies, pickling spice and/or mustard seeds. Put the packed jar in the oven. Continue until all cukes are packed.

One-at-a-time remove the jars from the oven. Top with boiling brine. Fit sterile lids onto the jars and set aside.

That's it. The pickles are done.

Robin pickles 20 pounds at a time (my experimental run was about three pounds producing three quarts) and holds them for a minimum of one year. She also holds them for two years.

Or three years.

Eliminating processing means the brine will permeate the cukes more slowly, necessitating a one-year holding time. It should also produce a crisper pickle, one with more snap because it wasn't boiled.

Will it work? I think it will. The last jar just popped signaling a good seal. My brine has lots of salt and vinegar in it, creating a difficult environment for bacteria to grow. My hands were clean, the cukes and garnish items were clean, so I suspect the pickles will be completely safe.

I'll know in a year.

Aren't they lovely??

Later--same day. In gazing at the pickles I realized something. I forgot to put in DILL HEADS, DILL FRONDS or DILL SEEDS. What a dope! Now I have an entire year to kick myself about that glaring omission. Sheesh.