Welcome back to the Five Feline Farm podcast, formerly known as Farm Chatter, now From Soil to Story. This new title reflects the changes we’ve made in our business to encompass a sharpening of our interests.
In this episode, we explain a bit of our history and our current projects.
Without change, we can’t grow.
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If you’d like a free downloadable novella, check out The Decision, A Prologue to Landow Creek.
Every once in a while I stumble upon a grand idea. I realize others may have already discovered the same thing, but when I actually experience it, somehow it becomes more real. Isn’t that the way with almost anything? A physical experience writes knowledge on you in a way that reading about it cannot fully convey.
So, read this article to get the idea, but then go do it for yourself. It is quick, easy and painless. Unless you burn your fingers.
My experience started with a stale sleeve of saltines.
I was making soup, and what goes best with any kind of soup? Crackers. Not fancy water crackers, or wheat thins or even Ritz crackers, but plain basic saltines.
Since the invention of this iconic cracker, saltines have classically accompanied soup.
Many have used these inexpensive crackers to extend a simple bowl of soup into a meal. In the Great Depression, many a cracker was crumbled into a thin broth soup to fill hungry bellies. The habit of crumbling crackers into soup continues as a comfort food, even when food is plentiful.
But stale saltines?
Somehow, it just isn’t the same.
Filling, yes. Satisfying, no.
There have been times in my life when stale saltines went out for the birds. As I became more conscious of food waste, I could not think of throwing out an entire sleeve of crackers. After cursing the packaging breach that allowed moisture to render the crackers unpalatable, it was time to pivot.
What to do?
Somewhere in the recesses of my brain, I recalled crackers could be crisped in the oven. There was nothing to lose and everything to gain by giving it a shot.
I couldn’t remember any directions about how long it might take to crisp up stale crackers, so as I often do, I guessed. By monitoring color change through the oven window and paying attention to the aroma in the air, I hit upon a success.
Another technique I use often is starting food in a cold oven, allowing the food to come to temperature along with the oven. This saves a bit of time. Plus, if moving a glass baking dish straight from the refrigerator to the oven, it helps prevent the pan from shattering because of the sudden temperature change.
Back to the saltines.
Pour out an entire sleeve of crackers onto a small baking sheet. It doesn’t matter if they are in a single layer or not; dump out the crackers and shake to semi-distribute. Pop them in the oven on the middle rack. Set the temperature to 350º and turn it on. Monitor closely until the crackers reach your desired color. Remove from the oven, and slide into a serving bowl.
Eat warm.
Easy as this is, there are a couple of things to keep in mind. First, you need to get to know your oven. In my electric oven, the crackers are nicely browned and crispy at exactly the same moment the oven reaches 350 degrees. Second, it is quite handy to have a window in the oven door. I am not sure why windowless ovens were ever created, but I will never buy one.
One step better.
If you want to raise your game one more step, before baking, shake the crackers in a baggie with a small amount of melted butter and the seasoning of your choice. I recommend 1 1/2 tablespoons of melted butter and 1 teaspoon of seasoning to one sleeve of crackers. Open up your spice cabinet and think outside the cracker box. Try a bit of freshly cracked pepper. Paprika comes to life and offers a warming addition. I like steak seasoning on almost anything, not just for meat. Think chili-seasoned crackers to accompany a hot bowl of chili soup.
Now I crisp saltines every time I make soup. Not only when they have gone stale. Even without any additional seasoning, the slight browning gives crackers a new flavor profile that is distinct from the bland saltines straight from the box. It is possible this even makes the cheap saltines better so you can save money not buying an expensive name brand.
This simple technique elevates the humble saltine into an ethereal experience. Imagine warm, lightly browned crackers spread with soft butter beginning to melt. Delicious and simple.
Now, go straight to the kitchen and warm up your saltines. You know you want to.
Curious about a typical day on a small acreage?
Retired life is supposed to be days filled with sunshine, books, and relaxation.
At least that’s the illusion I had when I planned to leave the 8:30 AM to 5:00PM day job as a social worker.
Who am I kidding? How many days did I go in early, stay late, work on-call, travel overnight, and sit in the office making call after call to find a placement for a child?
A difficult career in child welfare, but also rewarding. Thirty years was enough, though, and I headed into retirement.
Some days, I refer to my life now as a second career as a writer. While that’s true, I write both fiction and nonfiction, I also help run this small farm we call home.
Recently was one of those days when nothing quite seemed to fall into place. Actually, there have been several of those days over the past few months.
Making matters worse are the days of dangerously high heat and humidity. That, besides some extended family responsibilities, push outside work to the very early morning hours.
Since one of the riding mowers was in the repair shop for close to a month, we took turns on the one mower that ran. It’s not ideal, but we made it work.
Until one day.
Nearing the end of the mowing session, the belt broke on the deck.
Great. The yard wasn’t finished, our time was limited and now there was no working mower on the property.
“It’s only a belt.” I said to myself. “I can run into town, get the belt on, and the rest of the yard will get mowed before lunch.”
I should have known better.
It took 3 stops and 1 hour to find the right belt. The farm store and our usual repair shop didn’t have the right one in stock. So off to the next town to a John Deere dealer.
Belt in hand, I checked YouTube for instructions. Between that and the diagram on the belt label, it looked easy enough.
Nothing ever goes as smoothly as you hope, but after an hour of labor, interrupted by lunch and managing another commitment, the belt was on and the yard finished.
What started as a serious frustration ended with self-satisfaction at being able to repair the mower.
I wonder what tomorrow will bring.
Whatever it is, will be a far cry from social work.
A black raspberry pie always makes me think of my grandma.
Usually I don’t make a whole pie, just one crust. A pile of berries, sugar, and flour dumped into the middle, and the edges folded up over the top.
Something on the order of a galette.
I love black raspberries.
When I was a child, I thought these were the only berries worth eating. We didn’t have the red variety. Warm, sweet, seedy berries picked from the edge of Grandma’s garden.
As a snack, Grandma would allow me to add equal amounts of berries and sugar in a jar to eat with a grapefruit spoon.
Why a jar?
Because that was a convenient vessel to take to the field when they were cutting, raking, and baling hay. My job was to sit in the truck and eat berries.
Why a serrated spoon?
Because it was different, therefore my favorite. Plus, Grandma allowed it.
What is so special about Rubus Occidentalis, the black raspberries of my childhood?
Rubus occidentalis is a species of Rubus native to eastern North America. Its common name black raspberry is shared with other closely related species. Other names occasionally used include bear’s eye blackberry, black cap, black cap raspberry,[3][4] and scotch cap.[5] ~Wikipedia
Unlike blackberries, black raspberries do not have a stem that grows through the middle of the berry. Shaped more like a tiny stocking cap, it plucks off the stem completely. The stem in the middle of blackberries kind of freaks me out. (Don’t try to make sense of why. You have your idiosyncrasies too.)
Both blackberries and black raspberries grow wild here. It felt like a bonus to discover these that first spring. Like a little confirmation that this property was the place to be.
Picking them can be a challenge. Both types of berries grow on thorny canes that will grab your skin if you aren’t careful. Blackberry thorns are the most ferocious, with an extra hook on the barb.
These glistening black raspberries grow in clusters of five, with the middle one usually ripening first. The season is from about the second week of June until the first of July.
Each year, I make seedless black raspberry jam, home canned pie filling and at least one fresh pie.
Delicious.
While I savor the rich color and flavor, I think of my grandma all those years ago, occupying her grandchild with berries and sugar so she could get some work done.
