'Tis the Season of the Vege. And boy, do I know it. I am trying all kinds of new ways to squeeze in a zucchini here and a bean there. My lunches are now packed in my neato Indian stacking tins because I am awash in salads - corn salad, cucumber salad, tomato salad, bean salad. People wander by my office door and stare. Let them.
Needing something a step up from salads and zoodles, I made a GF pie crust Monday morning, then a tomato/basil/cheese quiche Tuesday morning. I was quite happy with the results - and quite happy that I have found THE gluten-free pie crust recipe. Not surprisingly, it's from America's Test Kitchen. And also not surprising, every single one of their recipes I have tried has worked out wonderfully - with the slight exception of the peanut butter cookies. Very dry.
Today's lunch is quiche, corn salad and cucumber salad. Good thing I could eat vege morning, noon and night. Because I am.
Last night I tackled the beans - the only downside of these purple pod pole beans is that they grow so darn fast, you end up with a lot of beans that are large. I have dilled the younger ones and decided to blanch and freeze the larger ones so that I could braise them over the winter. Still left to deal with are the cucumbers - Sylvie's Mom's Bread & Butter pickles are on the to-do list for this weekend. They are my all-time favorite pickle. I have found a few behemoth cukes lurking in the leafy depths and the chickens are enjoying their seediness. I will also get a bag of corn and will be canning that this weekend as well. I only can corn every other year, thank goodness. Later this month, I will venture out into the fields for my annual U-Pick tomato/pepper extravaganza, then it's all over but the whining. Since my own potato crop was downright pitiful - interesting to note that the Red Norlands planted in my fancy-schmancy potato bag hardly multiplied, while my tried-and-true tire planting multiplied plenty - I will be supplementing my yearly potato ration with the nice taters at a local farm.
Speaking of chickens, I decided to re-home Bleu, my Blue-Laced Red Wyandotte rooster. While he was a beautiful bird and had a nice temperament, he decided to make the life of one of my hens a living hell and I had to intervene. She was afraid to leave the coop, had no feathers on her back and was losing weight. So, off went Monsieur Bleu to a nice, rooster-less flock fifteen minutes from me. Since I have at least two up-and-comers from the tweenagers, I wasn't worried about being rooster-less too long. However, I really miss his crowing. And there hasn't been peep one from the youngsters. Until this morning. As I toddled out with their breakfast, I heard a long, pathetic, strangled call. Ah, music to my ears!