Instant Shrub

Oh, goodness. I've been sick three times already this fall! They were all more of the fighting off kinds of sickness, not full blown luckily, but still, I've been battling and it takes the energy out of you. Is it kindergarten? Is my child bringing me home all sorts of strains of viruses? The last few days I've been battling a bit of a stomach bug. I don't want to talk about food just yet, you know? I'm trying to hydrate. I haven't wanted anything sweet, so now that I'm feeling better I'm sort of craving it. A little toast with jam hit the spot. The last of the raspberry jam, which is my favorite. After I scraped the jar almost clean, I stashed the jar on the side of the sink, because as we all know, a little water or seltzer in the end of a jam jar not only cleans the jar, but affords a frugal and refreshing drink. And you don't have to waste a spot of those precious raspberries that you hand picked in September. My only problem with jam-water (what is it called, anyway?) is that it needs a little brightening. A splash of apple cider vinegar does the drink and boom you have instant shrub. Instant shrub is going to get you, you know.

One of my favorite drinks in the fall is apple cider, a splash of apple cider vinegar topped with seltzer. When I was in Seattle last year, I was lucky enough to be taken to Bar Sajor and they had so many drinking vinegars! It's a big west coast thing. Did I have a rhubarb? I can't recall because there was so much good food eaten, but take a look at their lunch menu, it's all amazing stuff. I don't think I've seen any shrubs up in these parts, but I'm sure Brooklyn is all over it. Do you like shrubs? Or a vinegary drink? I love them!

An Ax to Grind

You know, I've never picked up an ax and split wood before. The other day I tried it out. We had some logs that were small, but they had nice cracks in them and looked like they could be split in half easily. Granted, it was oak, which is a hard wood, but that was some tough business!! I think I split 6 logs. My arms were all weak afterwards, and it messed with my quince prep (as I mentioned yesterday). What people used to have to do to survive always blows my mind. I am so thankful for my comfortable life! Comfort aside, there's always something to work on, and things to feel anxious over, and things that don't get done.

With that said, I am handing in my NaBloPoMo badge. I'll still write every day, but I think I'm going to  keep it in my personal files. It didn't use to bother me, but now just hurriedly writing something just to post it is starting to wear thin. I wonder why it was decided to hold this writing event in November, when everybody is starting to freak out about the holidays? Why not February, when there's absolutely nothing to do? Ah well, it's been fun! I'll see you next week, with something I've worked a little harder on.

Quince Slices in Light Syrup with Cardamom and Clementine

Let the quincing begin! Today I worked with 7 pounds of quinces, slicing them down into twelfths in order to can them in a light syrup. I do believe quinces, though heavenly, are a difficult fruit. They do not yield, and they're tough as a winter squash sometimes. After I peeled them all--with an apple peeler that worked quite nicely, see above--I cored and sliced them all. My hands were trembling with exhaustion afterwards. I'm usually not that delicate, but my arms were a little tired from chopping some wood the other day. Now there's some really tough work.

First I poached them in a gallon of water with a tablespoon of lemon juice, letting them simmer lightly with the lid on. When they were just tender I let them sit while I readied the water boiler and brought the syrup to a simmer. Into the syrup went the zest and juice of two clementines and about twenty cardamom pods, half of them whole and half opened so the little seeds swam could swim about. When the syrup was at a good simmer, I skimmed the slices of quince from the water bath and dropped them in. When they were all in, I let them simmer for about 5-10 minutes. Into pint jars they went, to be processed for twenty minutes.

Quinces

These beauties came in my life the other day, and I must attend to them. I will be coming back to post about how I've prepared them! Do you get quinces in your parts? If you are local, there is a wonderful small orchard overlooking the Hudson river in Milton that has an orchard of old quince trees, among many others things. They are called Locust Grove Fruit Farm. They also sell at Union Square Market, and have been for 35 years! I hope you get some of their gorgeous quinces before they are all gone.

On Writing

A funny thing happens when you do NaBloPoMo. As you rack up ten or so days, you start to realize the absurdity of it all. It's like a marathon or contest, and one wonders, why do it? Or at least I do. For me it's not to prove my writing prowess (ha!), or certainly not to compete with other bloggers (again- ha!). It's more for the practice of it. So, what do you take away from that practice, that staring at the page, that reaching within and maybe coming up with something sadly imperfect?

I've been thinking about writing a lot, well, actually I've been thinking about writing all my life. Lately, I'm fascinated by novel writing. How the hell do people do it? It's such a huge amount of work, it seems to me. How do novel writers keep going? Why don't they quit? My biggest qualm is with a question that often plagues me when I start a piece of fiction: is this worth it? Is this the right story to be spending my time on? That's why writing a food blog is (somewhat) easy for me. It's comforting. Here's a topic, write about it, there's a picture here for you to focus on if you stray. There are clear steps, tidy beginnings and, best of all, endings. The question I have when I write fiction is the same question that starts to bubble up now that I'm writing here every day and that is: why am I doing this? That question is really a lesson in faith.

Those words make me pause and stare out the window at a school bus driving by. At the smoke trailing from my neighbor's chimney. At the russet oak leaves still hanging on at the top of the trees, waving in the sky. I begin to feel as if I may be biting off more than I can chew with this post. I like order, and when things start to veer off into chaos I get a little nervous. This is when I choose to close the laptop and head out into the chill wintry day. Thankfully, it was time to pick up my son from school. Now, I'm back, it's after dinner, the table is clean, the sink full of dirty dishes, and I'm here at the computer again. Staring at the "page." What was that about faith? I want to go read by the fire!

Right now I want to push this post to the middle of my queue of posts, and drum up something else, like a post I have sitting around for such emergencies on home made gifts for the holidays. It's making me feel a little wiggly. Do I have faith in my writing? I must, seeing as how I'm still writing. But to be honest, it doesn't feel like how I think faith should feel. I still question the writing. I still question the page. Maybe that's what faith is. Maybe I've had it wrong all these years thinking faith makes you impervious to questions. Maybe faith helps you ignore the whys, so you can keep on moving forward.