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A Day in the Kitchen

Category: Farm Doings | Posted: Fri Feb 22, 2013 9:03 pm

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We don't get many days of overcast skies, wind, and temperatures in the low 50's here in Texas, but when we do I spend the day in the kitchen. First, I get out two or three of my favorite cookbooks. Then I lay out my "plan of attack".
First—get out the stock pot and put in the chicken bones (not any of our chickens!), celery pieces, chopped onion, carrot, parsley, and peppercorns. Cover with cold water, and set on the back of the stove to simmer gently for about four hours.
Second—get out the flour, brown sugar, chopped pecans (hey, we are in the South!) and other ingredients and mix up a batch of Butterscotch Refrigerator Cookies:

½ c. shortening (margarine, or vegetable shortening)
2 c. brown sugar, packed
2 eggs
dash of salt
½ tsp. vanilla
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. cream of tartar
2 ¾ c. flour
½ c. chopped pecans (optional, but makes the cookies soooo much better!)

Cream shortening and sugar, then add beaten eggs and vanilla.
Sift flour, baking soda, cream of tartar, and salt together, add chopped nuts, then add to shortening mixture. Mix dough well, which may take a while since this is a basically dry dough.
Form the dough into two long logs about 2" in diameter on a piece of waxed paper. Wrap in the waxed paper and refrigerate for at least two hours or up to two days.
Cut the logs into ¼" slices and place 2" apart on a well-greased cookie sheet. Bake at 350° for about 10 minutes. Shoo away all children, husbands, and passing strangers until cookies cool on a rack.

While the cookies are in the refrigerator, I get out flour, yeast, sugar, salt, and lard. These are the ingredients for French Bread.

4 c. unbleached flour
1 tblsp. yeast or one packet of yeast
1 tblsp. sugar
2/3 tsp. salt
1 tblsp. lard ( or cold margarine, but it isn't as authentic)
1 ½ c. warm water

In a large bowl mix the flour, yeast, sugar and salt. With your fingers rub in the lard until there are no large lumps left, and the mixture is like coarse cornmeal. Add the water and mix with a wooden spoon until a rough mass of dough forms. There will be bits and pieces of floury dough, but don't worry about them.
On a well-floured board, dump the dough and any bits and pieces in the center. Start to knead the dough, incorporating any loose bits until the dough is satiny to look at, and soft and elastic to the touch. This usually takes somewhere between 6 and 10 minutes, depending on humidity and how energetic you are with kneading.
Grease a large bowl and put the dough in it, reversing it so the top is greased also. Let set for 45-60 minutes in a warm spot, 75-100° until double in size.
On a floured board, turn out the dough, cut it in half, and roll one-half out to a rectangle. Start to roll the dough from the long side and form a log. Do the same with the other half. Put the dough logs into *French bread pans, slash the tops three times diagonally (this lets steam escape and keeps the bread from becoming dense) and let rise in a warm spot for about 45 minutes, or until the loaves look like you want them to.
Bake in a 375° for about 30 minutes. This depends on how accurate your oven temperature is and how much the dough has risen before put in the oven. When the loaves are golden brown and sound hollow when tapped on the top, they are baked. Let the loaves cool on a rack, and then either serve, wrap in foil and freeze, or wave them about and let the neighborhood gather in your front yard, breathing deeply of the fresh bread fragrance.
*French bread pans are round on the bottom and have two half-rounds joined—think of a W with rounded bottoms. They are not absolutely necessary—you can make do with doubled thickness foil shaped into a U shape and placed on a cookie sheet. If you use this make sure the loaves are browned a bit on bottom—the double foil and the sheet tend to shield the bottom from browning.

By now the cookie dough is well chilled and ready to bake, and the oven is already heated. The cookie recipe makes about five dozen cookies, which are cooling on racks next to the French bread and the kitchen is warm and very fragrant!

The stock is reduced to soft bits of vegetables and the chicken bones have released the bits of meat clinging to them, so it's time to put the stock through a wire sieve. The liquid goes into the refrigerator to congeal the fat at the top for removal later, and the bits of chicken are plucked off the bones to be added to soup or used in a quiche later.

Chicken and left-overs quiche

For crust:
1 c. unbleached flour
½ tsp. salt
½ c. cold margarine
Icy cold water

For filling:
Chopped cooked chicken
Chopped cooked vegetables (broccoli, spinach, mushrooms, celery, onions, etc.)
1 c. shredded cheese—Swiss, Cheddar, or a combination of the two
¾ c. half and half
¼ c. water
4 eggs
Grinding of white pepper

In a small bowl sift the flour and salt together, then with a pastry cutter cut in the cold margarine until the mix resembles coarse cornmeal. Slowly add ice water and mix until the dough just holds together. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate for an hour, or up to one day.
Cut the chicken meat into small pieces, add cooked broccoli, spinach, mushrooms, finely chopped celery, chopped onions, whatever leftovers or combination of leftovers you have.
Preheat oven to 400°.
Roll out the pastry dough and put in a well-greased quiche pan (or 9" pie pan). Trim off any dough that laps over the pan's edge. Cover the bottom with the chicken and vegetable(s), then add cheese. Grind pepper over the chicken/cheese.
Beat the eggs with the half and half, then pour over the contents. Bake at 400° for about 30 minutes, or until the center doesn't jiggle and the crust has browned (this depends on the amount of filling and the temp of your oven).
Let cool for 10 minutes before serving, or let cool completely and serve at room temperature. Made early in the morning on a hot summer's day, this makes a great luncheon dish with a green salad. On a cold day serve your quiche warm for a lunch that will warm your heart as well as your tummy.

So, after making stock, cookies, quiche, and baking bread, for dinner I pull a pizza out of the freezer and we have a glass of red wine with our "instant" dinner. A person can be expected to do just so much cooking in one day!





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Old Dogs and New Tricks

Category: Farm Doings | Posted: Fri Nov 30, 2012 4:10 pm

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The other night we were talking about all the great and glorious plans we had when we first moved here to the farm. We were "old dogs" in book knowledge of nature but we learned a lot of new tricks by just living here, watching what happens with no human intervention, and with a LOT of help from our neighbors (who look upon us as a source of entertainment!).
First, we were going to put a barbecue, picnic table, and chairs down by the pond so we could "picnic" there, and do some bird watching. We soon learned that we could sit at our dining room table, eat in comfort without hauling stuff across two acres, and bird watch anyway!
Then, I had the brilliant idea(?) to plant a big flower garden in front of the house--kind of an "I have arrived" statement. I had never encountered Bermuda grass before. That stuff has roots based in Beijing and spreads faster than the flu in a kindergarden class! Five years later I have a lovely flower garden with a Bermuda grass ground cover (I'm still fighting it, but losing the battle).
I wasn't the only one that was naive. My husband thought that a walk-behind shredder would do fine for our seven acres of scrub. Wrong! That poor man would struggle while cutting down sapling mesquites, going over fire ant mounds that put some comdominiums to shame, and finding all the little bundles of barbed wire, old tires, and other detrius that previous owners had tossed out in the field. We now have an sturdy All Terrain Vehicle with a tow-behind shredder, and I still have my husband.
Armadilloes are cute--slow, armored, and very Texan. I was thrilled to see one waddling through the back yard. I wasn't so thrilled when I stepped in a hole the darned critter had dug and spent two days limping. I have been told armadilloes also have very vicious front claws (for digging traps for unsuspecting folk) and can claw you badly. I have no plans to get close enough to one to get mauled. I have a gun.
Neighbors in the country aren't like neighbors in town. For example, when was the last time a town neighbor showed up on his tractor? When we moved here we had had enough of people. We were going to hunker down, not speak to anyone, and become hermits. Well, that didn't last. Before we got unpacked neighbors from three, four miles away were showing up with casseroles, offers of help, and of course, tractors.
So, these two old dogs have learned some new tricks, and enjoyed every minute of it (except for the armadillo hole incident).

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The Joy of Chickens

Category: Farm Doings | Posted: Thu Jul 19, 2012 6:17 pm

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When was the last time you received a standing ovation when you entered a room? I get one every morning when I take the ladies their breakfast. The hens hop down from their perch, run to greet me, and make little gurgling noises. Their adoration knows no bounds.
Feeling unappreciated? Go pick a few cherry tomatoes from the garden and toss them into the outside coop. Instant gratitude from the ladies. They bounce around chasing tomatoes and gobbling them up, then give you adoring, expectant looks, hoping for more.
When we work in the garden or mow the barn lot, every move is watched by our fan club. Rock stars don't get this much attention. If we happen to throw some grass into the coop or give the girls a handful of weeds, it's better than a signed autograph from Mick Jagger!
Think you don't have any power or influence? Go to the coop--you'll find out that the ladies consider you to be the bringer of all things good (and you are also the coop cleaning staff). Having their water container filled is a source of constant amazement to them--"Look, she has water in that bucket, oh joy!" When you fill their food tray, it's a minor miracle and only YOU can do it.
It would be awfully hard to be depressed, sad, or lonely around chickens. Hens are great for the ego and self-esteem, and if you ignore the fact that all that adoration is caused by food, you can feel pretty good about yourself.
My fan club and support group:


All together now ( photo / image / picture from marlingardener's Garden )





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Goin' fishin' with a checkbook

Category: Farm Doings | Posted: Wed Mar 07, 2012 4:28 pm

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Last Saturday the pond stocking fish folk were at the feed store. With last year's drought, a lot of ponds (aka "stock tanks") went dry and therefore are fishless, even though we have had good rains lately.
Now, the Pondstockers came down from Arkansas, and they didn't arrive with a few buckets and a net. NO, this was a full diesel truck (Peterbuilt for you truck aficianados) towing a huge flatbed.
On the flatbed were steel bins that looked like small dumpsters--the ones with the lift-up lid that you see behind fast-food places. There were four air cylinders on the back of the flatbed, and aerator pumps attached to each of the bins. On the sides of the bins were signs advertising the fish available--Channel Catfish, Coppernose bluegills (colorful little guys, copper and blue, too), bass, minnows (more about that later), grass carp, and red ears.
I had called Arkansas and ordered 50 fingerling bass. Between my Texas/midwest/allergy accent and her Arkansas accent, we still managed to communicate. The truck was to be at the feed store at 8 a.m. Figuring nothing was ever on time, we arrived at 8:15 and were at the back of a lo-o-o-ng line.
We were sandwiched between a farmer and a rancher. If you ever have to stand in line, try to get between a farmer and a rancher. We found out the current price of feeder calves, who bought a new tractor, the schedule for the agricultural agent's inspection of fields, where there was going to be a good farm auction, and whose wife just had a baby.
We got our three bags of fish--heavy-weight plastic bags filled with treated water and pumped full of air (that's why they had the compressors on the back of the flatbed). We walked off carrying three big see-through balloons with tiny fish swimming about in them.
When we got home we had a cup of coffee and thought it over. We had 50 bass, 200 coppernose, and five pounds of minnows. Locally minnows are called "minners". We even see signs "Bait--worms and minners". I can't bring myself to call them "minners". Maybe that was why the lady in Arkansas had difficulty understanding me when I phoned. Anyway, we knew we could just dump the "minners" in the pond, but we had to acclimate the bass and coppernoses.
So, the two of us, with three bags of fish, two buckets of appropriate sizes, and high hopes, trekked down to our pond. We put the minnows in the pond, put the coppernoses in the large bucket, and then filled the small bucket with pond water (did I mention we were wearing knee high boots and hoping that we didn't get stuck in the mud?). We added about a quart of pond water to the treated water the coppernoses were in, then another quart after about five minutes, then another quart. Well, you get the idea. After we did the coppernoses and released them into the pond, we did the same with the bass. It was a novel way to spend most of a Saturday morning.
The upshot is that, in about two years, with luck and rain, we will have bass that are of a size to be caught and eaten. At this point I'm so fond of the little guys I don't think I'd be able to swallow a bite of bass.
We wouldn't have had any luck fishing if we had left the checkbook at home!

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Bread baking

Category: Farm Doings | Posted: Sun Oct 30, 2011 6:52 pm

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I dearly love to bake bread. I like to measure out the ingredients, use herbs from our garden, knead, shape the loaves, and especially I like to smell the freshly baked bread scent throughout the house. I always have several kinds of bread in the freezer, and we have homemade bread with most of our dinners.
Here are some of the breads I've baked recently:


Homemade breads ( photo / image / picture from marlingardener's Garden )
Starting from the 12 o'clock position, there is rye, Cuban, roasted sweet red pepper bread, pesto bread, parsley/onion bread, and French, with rosemary bread in the center.
There is something very satisfying about chopping herbs, mixing the yeast and flour, kneading, and setting the dough to rise. I have a large wooden cutting board that I use for kneading, and usually leave the dough on the well-floured board with a damp cotton dish towel over it for the first rise.
When it's cold outside, or when you are at loose ends and need something to do, or if you are feeling a trifle blue, there is nothing like cutting loose in the kitchen with a good bread recipe! It warms you up, gives a tangible result, and makes you feel better. Not to mention the great workout you get for your biceps!
If you want any of the recipes, I'll gladly send it to you by private message. I just don't want to bore everyone with all the details of making these breads!
With the holidays coming up I'll be making even more breads to give as Christmas presents. I've found that people are inundated with sweets at this time of year, but a good loaf of bread that they can pop in the freezer if they don't need it immediately, is always most welcome!


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Cackleberry harvest

Category: Farm Doings | Posted: Thu Sep 29, 2011 11:53 am

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eggs galore ( photo / image / picture from marlingardener's Garden )

Despite drought, heat, and adjusting to each other, my ladies are laying fine eggs! The young ones haven't quite got the hang of using the nest boxes, so I have to be careful where I step when I go into the coop. Right now behind the water station is a favorite spot for one of the girls. I keep showing them the lovely, well-decorated nest boxes, but they are being perverse.
The older ladies, however, have abandoned their old nest boxes for the newer ones. I cleaned out the old ones and put in new shavings, but they prefer the view from the new boxes.
The girls' eggs are smaller and lighter colored, so I can tell who is using nest boxes and who is playing "hide and seek" with eggs.

egg size comparison ( photo / image / picture from marlingardener's Garden )The center egg is one of the young hen's. It is smaller and slightly lighter in color. When they lay an egg it's practically white, but it starts to darken a bit immediately. As they mature their eggs will become a rich brown.
The ladies are actually getting protective of the girls (or my dominant hen sees an opportunity to enlarge her sphere of influence). Two of the girls wandered out into the barn aisle while I was cleaning the coop, and Ruby Begonia went after them, flapped her wings and shooed them back into the coop! Ruby didn't want to lose any of her constituents, I suppose. However, when it comes to catching grasshoppers, it's every hen for herself!





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Ice Cream Social

Category: Farm Doings | Posted: Fri Aug 12, 2011 8:24 pm

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Every August the church up the road holds a community Ice Cream Social. In the 1850's, a German baron sent a group of retainers here to populate and farm a land grant. Many of their descendants are still here, farming the "old home place." Even if you attend another church, or none at all, if you live in the vicinity of the church you belong to the community. You should meet some of the community members.
Margaret and Arthur are mainstays of the church. Arthur farms and runs some cattle, and their place is a model of neatness and efficiency. Margaret volunteers at the local hospital and at the elementary school, plays the organ at church, and bakes the best cookies in the world. Grown men faint over her tea cakes!
Eileen lives on her farm and dotes on her grandchildren. She makes the best kolache (a raised dough with a fruit filling) and cleans the church because she does it better than anyone else could.
Mary is famous for her dill pickles. When the bingo game gets going after the Social, her pickles are one of the best prizes. Fights don't exactly break out over her pickles, but that is only because the preacher is there.
Leona is tiny, beautiful, and just vague enough to be charming. When she won a basket of our hens' eggs with a note from "Rosie, Ruby Begonia, Bianca, Lucy, Eileen, and Slo-Poke" hoping the recipient would enjoy the fruit of their labors, Leona said, "I don't know these people!" Someone explained the "people" were hens--big black hens that had laid the eggs.
W.C. (in Texas a lot of men go by their initials) mows the church grounds and cemetery, sees after the building, and rings the bell at 10:30 on a Sunday morning. He and his wife Anna (who quilts and paints and cooks and is absolutely dear) are expert fisherpersons. They have won many fishing tournaments, and always supply the fish for the April Fish Fry at the church. W.C. fries a good fish!
Clark is a deacon, and does the readings. He has a beautiful speaking voice, and sings awfully well. He leads our pitiful attempts at singing (we are not the most melodious group) and if it weren't for Clark, we'd have to give up trying the hymns and just hum. He also paints beautifully, and has had several shows of his work.
So, those are a few of the members of the community who have welcomed us and made us feel part of the community. Who knew that moving out of a "community" of 16,000 people to a small farm would put us smack dab in the middle of a real community of kind people with good and giving souls?


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High IQ chickens

Category: Farm Doings | Posted: Mon Jul 25, 2011 2:30 pm

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I realize that the common perception of chickens is that they are pretty dumb. Chickens don't get invited to join Phi Beta Kappa and the Mensa Society doesn't recruit them. Chickens are the butt of a lot of "dumb as a chicken" jokes.
Our chickens are not dumb. Granted, they get all excited when their treat dish comes and run around in circles; the shadow of a passing cloud sends them squawking into the indoor coop; the little ones haven't discovered that they can fly up to both perches (one they try hopping up on, which doesn't work, and when they get frustrated with that, they fly up to the other perch which is exactly the same height off the ground); and generally they just don't look all that intelligent.
However, consider this--a college graduate arrives to clean their coop, freshen their water (filtered, of course), dish out meals (pasta primavera is a favorite), and stand guard while the chickens stroll around the gardens. Another college graduate has built a large coop for them, installed two perches, made a climbing ladder so they can get to their nest boxes, and spent time in the broiling heat making sawdust from scrap lumber so their nest boxes will be comfy.
So, who's dumb? The ones who are catered to, have body guards, and don't lift a finger (oops, forgot chickens don't have fingers), or the "staff" who clean, feed, provide entertainment, and do handyman work for the "dumb" ones?
I don't think the two-leggers will be invited to join a high IQ group, either.

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Welcome to the world!

Category: Farm Doings | Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2011 5:39 pm

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We introduced our chicks to the outside world this week. They have a portable outdoor playpen to keep them safe (and to keep me from having to chase them all over 10 acres).


Whole new world ( photo / image / picture from marlingardener's Garden )

At first they huddled together, then they assumed the classic Western movie "circle the wagons" position in which all their little hind ends are together, and they stretch their necks and keep an eye out for predators.
They didn't seem to be enjoying the great outdoors much until one caught a grasshopper.


Protein! ( photo / image / picture from marlingardener's Garden )

Protein on the hoof! One girl grabbed the grasshopper and started to run with it, which initiated a great game of keep-away. After they disposed of the grasshopper (it wasn't pretty, so I'll spare you the details) they all cuddled up and took a nap.
This morning was their second foray into the wide world, and they immediately started looking for grasshoppers. I think I'll make outdoor girls of them yet!





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Why it takes me two hours to run a half-hour errand

Category: Farm Doings | Posted: Mon May 16, 2011 7:32 pm

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I try not to go into town more than once a week, and here's why--I spend two hours doing things that ought to take a half-hour at the most.
On my to-do list: get turn-buckles for new coop door, get gas for mowers, pick up more chicken feed. First stop the hardware store. One of the clerks asks me how the garden is doing, and we commiserate about the drought and discuss how high our corn is, and another customer chimes in with the amount of recent rain and whether it will do any good. The other clerk and I have an interesting discussion about hens, which we both keep.
As I'm paying for my turn-buckles, a neighbor walks in and asks if I saw the gazebo going down our road. Nope, I missed that one! Our new neighbors that are about two miles away had a gazebo built by the local Amish settlement, and it was delivered last week. Sorry I missed taking a picture of the gazebo passing by. However, my neighbor said the new couple are talking about throwing a big barbecue to introduce themselves and inaugurate the gazebo (deciding what to take to the barbecue will involve several phone calls and discussions with the other ladies on the road and there goes another hour).
Got to the filling station and have my cans filled, ready to put into the truck. Some gentleman who obviously thinks I am a delicate flower of Southern womanhood tells me he'll load them for me. Then we get into a discussion about how the grass is growing because of the rain, and he wants to know where our farm is, and when I tell him he remembers several folks who used to live up and down the road. I get a background on the neighbors, past and present. Useful knowledge!
I know that the feed store is a hotbed of information, rumor, and tall tales, so it's no surprise to me that it takes 45 minutes to get a sack of feed. But heavens, the things you learn! The local garden club's president is the mother of the man who runs the feed store, so you get town gossip and country gossip, all in one convenient location.
When my husband comes in from work and asks me what I did today, I can honestly tell him, "Nothing." But I sure had fun doing it!

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