You know the scene, right? The rat’s cooking has turned a failing restaurant around and garnered enough raves to entice a visit from the most revered food critic in Paris. So, did the staff serve him truffles, pate’, or something lovely drenched in butter? No, Remy (the infamous rat chef) served the food critic a peasant dish: ratatouille. As the first bite was analyzed, memories of childhood and a mother’s love flooded through the critic’s brain. The corners of his mouth turned upward, and the rest was…well, if you haven’t seen the movie, then perhaps you should.
We are accustomed to doing without some conveniences out here in the country. Oh, we have running water, but in the past when I’ve needed capers or a specific garden tool, we were miles away from getting what we needed when we needed it. When we finally finished the bank project (A RE-purposeful Life), I wanted to make sure my new plants got the water they needed, and my husband suggested pine mulch to keep the ground moist. Of course, there is not a nursery that sells pine mulch for miles, but I knew exactly where I could get it locally.
Lots of trees waiting to make their yearly delivery of leaves and needles in the fall.
Our road is lined with a variety of trees. Leaves, pine cones, and pine needles cover both sides of our street every spring, and I hesitantly rake them up while fearing what animal I might disrupt from its rest. This time I gathered a rake and the wheel barrow and headed up the road to gather a couple of loads of pine needles without fear. I was on a mission. Unfortunately, I underestimated the number of loads I would need for my project, Continue reading Meanwhile, Back at The Ranch: Mother Nature Delivers What I NEEDle→
This past week, I picked up my second order from the Oklahoma Food Cooperative. I had been waiting for leeks to be ready, and they finally were. Leeks, new potatoes, creme fraiche, beef bones, chuck roast, ribeyes! (my husband’s 50th birthday is in July), fresh broccoli, fresh corn, and seventy-five pounds of Stratford peaches.
Yes, seventy-five pounds.
My daughter, her friend, and a former supervisee were canning. Oh, that I could just taste fresh peaches every day I might write more like Shakespeare!
I’m going to tell you about some of this produce and how it turned into a delightful meal, but first I need to share with you why Cucuzza squash might actually be Audrey II in the next production of Little Shop of Horrors. (The guy sure looks like plant food to me!) By the way, I think Levi Stubbs did such a great job with that song. But that’s beside the point. The POINT is that I told myself last year I couldn’t grow squash in my small raised gardens.
Then I changed my mind. I was in Lowe’s, I sauntered over to the seed packets, glanced casually along the top of the veggie packets and then hesitated. “Cucuzza Squash?” I thought. “What is that? Hmmm…” I read that it’s a yellow-green heirloom Italian summer squash you pick when it’s approximately eight to ten inches long. And, when left to its own devices, it continues to grow then dry into a gourd. “Hmmm….” Continue reading My Little Victory Garden: Leeks and the Squash Monster→
Crickets. Do you hear them? That’s because I’m not at The Ranch. I headed back to my hometown of Chickasha, Oklahoma for a 30 year class reunion. A lot of times people head back to their childhood homes and think everything seems small. That was not the case for me this week.
Now this is some summer fun!
You remember playing in the sprinker, don’t you? The 100 degree temperatures were trying to dry out the grass on the sod farm. I guess it just wasn’t going to happen today. I had to drive out to the motor and get a closer look at this. I think the neighborhood kids could be quite happy after lunch once this got turned on.
Wind turbines have moved into Minco.
Wind mills were never a rare sight in Oklahoma, but since I’ve been away, several wind turbines have moved into my home state along Highway 81. The famous Oklahoma wind is going to be harnessed by these incredibly large “windmills” and turned into usable energy. These turbines are growing in popularity and come in a variety of sizes. The blades alone are about 116 feet long and are placed on top of a 212 foot tower. The three blades cover about an acre of air space as they turn. These two wind turbines in the photo to the left make the trees in the same photo look like shrubs.
I ate fifty cents worth of a $2.00 pancake.
Also in Minco located at the southwest corner of the stop light sits the Coffee Cup cafe. That location has been some kind of restaurant since I can remember. I stopped in to have a cup of coffee and a little breakfast one morning after checking out the wind farm. I ordered just one pancake and some bacon. When I spun around on the stool to face my plate, I was amazed! Continue reading Small Town: BIG Fun→
Last week I had a mid-recipe creation crisis. It happened in the kitchen and I decided that rather than write an entire entry about how many fails I experienced while trying to braise short-ribs with Oklahoma Sandhill Plums, I would just avoid the topic altogether. Seriously, I was beginning to think that my recipe creation was the reincarnation of Groundhog Day, and that redemption in my life would only happen if I finally pulled out the perfect center of the plate post.
Then I started thinking about this rant I went on two years ago in my little research world. One of my colleagues from a university in the northwestern U.S. was really down during one of our professional conferences and I asked him about his glum face. He stated that he had devoted approximately three years and lots of money toward an on-line relationship education program only to find out there were no effects (no statistically significant findings). So I asked him, “Why don’t you share THAT information? Don’t you think the fails are as important as the wins?” Then he said, “No research journal publishes ‘fails.'” Maybe I embedded that little downer-nugget into my subconscious last week?
This trailer contains years of work, frustration, and joy, but it is time for these guys to go.
This week eleven goats waited patiently in two horse stalls to be hauled to the livestock auction while another family of three cruised the pasture. We spent last week trying to catch them all and get them contained in one place eventually building a chute to guide them into the barn.
Three to go.
No wait. What’s that? Remember that big, mean brown goat that I managed to capture by the horns and guide into a stall? The one that I eventually let out because he was crying? I saw it walking down the fence row. Wait. And there’s another. And another. I stepped up to the window and saw one of the barn doors on the ground. Seven goats had escaped!
It was Thursday night. The auction was Friday night. We had work to do. I can not put down the details of the three hours, but I am sure that any divorce court judge would side with me if I filed for divorce over the goat herding debacle. However, after the long, humid evening, we had twelve goats locked in one horse stall. The two that still eluded us were the twins, Susan and Elizabeth. Their mother was with the other eleven, so we hoped they would come up to the barn on their own. It didn’t happen.
The goats receive number tags in the trailer before they are released.
It all began with two goats. Before we knew it, there were fourteen. Everything seemed to be moving right along until one day we noticed a couple of the goats were on the outside of the fence. Our fence had a hole. Upon further inspection, we notice several holes, one in almost every fence section. The cause? Roxy, our newest horse, was taking her front leg and pushing the fence down, so she could lean over and eat the “greener” grass on the other side. This daily practice has ruined about 800 feet of fence.
Hoof prints in the mud.... a dead giveaway.
We knew what was happening. Every day about lunch time, the goats would go to their favorite spot and venture out into the neighboring field to graze until their heart was content. They managed to migrate over to my garden at least twice where they ate not only the strawberries, but also every single leaf leaving only stems about one inch long. Yes, I complained, but I knew repairing the fence was going to be an expensive and time-consuming task. We are still building a barn, and now it’s gardening season; we had to prioritize the tasks around the ranch, and the goats grazing outside the fence was not a priority until the inevitable happened. Continue reading Meanwhile, Back at The Ranch: Well, CHUTE!→
It wasn’t until I had lots of empty ground to fill with my choice of plants that I learned the difference between annuals and perennials. Now, that we are starting on our fifth summer in our own house in the country, we are enjoying the fruits of our labor; the perennials are back and they’ve brought friends.
Our Junipers are filling in the sunny part of the bank. The Snapdragons on the right come back and had a little color right before the shaded Vinca Vine.
The bank has been challenging to landscape. Part of the 200 foot long bank gets full sun while the rest is shaded by a tree line. When we add in the factor of a steep slope, we are limited in the choices that will thrive in that environment. We have been experimenting with several varieties of shrubs and vines for the last five years. Just this year I have noticed how much our perennials have grown and spread.
It takes some work. I spend the early part of the growing season checking on the placement of the new branches of the Junipers, so I can get maximum coverage. I also placed some rocks in the banks to prevent water creating ditches in the bank. I am not always successful. This morning I noticed a couple of missing plants washed away by the recent heavy rains. Continue reading Meanwhile, Back at The Ranch: We’re Back!→
Last week I left you with the tag line, “California strawberries are for shipping, Oklahoma strawberries are for eating.” I had at that point two very full quarts of Oklahoma strawberries from the Urban Agrarian sitting in my refrigerator and my family had been enjoying…berries with creme fraiche, strawberries with homemade pound cake, berries with whipped creme and cookies, berries with breakfast, and – well, you name it. It seemed that every time I walked by the kitchen my feet would take over my body searching for berries, my arms would shoot out from my sides to open the refrigerator, and my hands would grab a strawberry then hurl it toward my mouth. Bliss.
I just love Oklahoma strawberries.
Unfortunately, my shipment from the Food Coop this week came in damaged. They were already in a severe state of atrophy and I only saved about half from one container, less from the other. So I put them with some friends: my first rhubarb harvest this year. I whipped up a quick compote and my family ate it all on homemade buttermilk biscuits. So, THAT was a melt-in-your-mouth experience. Continue reading My Little Victory Garden: Strawberries, Chard, Al Fresco Dining…Ahhh.→
Our pile of junk had been sitting in the pasture for seven years. It was a mixture of plastic, metal, and old wooden posts from a variety of sources around the ranch. It had evolved over time. If we needed a certain material for a project, the junk pile would be our first place to look to see what we could use out of it. Once I found an old door that we installed on the goat shed when we created a room addition for our new baby goats. I still remember the thumbs up my father-in-law gave me when I propped it up for him to see. Unfortunately, I noticed the goats and horses spending a lot of time close to the pile, and I worried that one of them would get tangled up in something and hurt. It was time to take this pile of treasure to the landfill.
We hooked up the trailer and started loading the accumulation of seven years of destruction. Mixed into the pieces of roofing, gutters, batteries, and brass candlesticks were landscape timbers that had been used for a small round pen built by my father-in-law in 1997. Hmmmm. Why had he used landscape timbers for a fence instead of fence posts? Had they been left by someone else? I was intrigued. Even though it was time consuming, I removed only the staples that held the remaining fence in place, put the old fence on the trailer, and set the wood aside. It took quite a bit of time and effort, but I loved the idea of salvaging one last repurposed item from the pile. Transport heavy equipment easily with our spacious 14ft utility trailer. Continue reading Meanwhile, Back at The Ranch: A RE-Purposeful Life→
Matt Burch (center), founder of the Urban Agrarian, shown here goofing off at their stand with Ryan Conerly (left) and David Drennen (right). The casual attitude is contagious; the mission – also contagious.
I’ve been trying to visit the Urban Agrarian (UA) Sunday food market at N.W. 23rd & Hudson (located in the Cheever’s parking lot) for several weeks. Today, I finally made it…with five minutes to spare before they closed. Mick and I had left my grandmother’s farm about forty-five minutes earlier and we were driving our truck eastbound on N.W. 23rd Street, hitting every red light possible. I finally pulled out my cell phone and Tweeted:
“@UrbanAgrarian driving back from grandma’s farm in Tuttle. Getting there with maybe 5 min to shop! Eek!” In less than a minute, I got a notice about this reply to my message: “@RedDirtKelly no worries, we will be here.”
This indeterminate tomato variety was said to have originated from the Cherokee over 100 years ago.
Springtime has a way of promoting growth in so many ways. We see the results of growth in plants as our surroundings turn from brown to green, and we see the growth in people as they try new things. My friend and co-worker Shannon came to me one day and told me she wanted to plant tomatoes, but she had never grown anything….ever. I had just found out that our Master Gardener speaker for April was a man known for his fabulous tomatoes. We made a plan to attend together.
Our speaker, Sputt Garnett of Yum Yum, TN, explained everything we ever wanted to know about tomatoes. I never really understood the difference between determinate and indeterminate, and I had certainly never seen tomato varieties like Black Prince. We were especially enthralled with the idea of the heirloom variety tomato, so we each purchased one Cherokee Purple tomato plant at the end of the workshop.
I explained to Shannon that I only had one growing season of tomatoes under my belt. I had planted them from seed last year during my first garden experience and had good success. Our excitement over tomatoes surpassed our need for dessert, so we headed next door to Wal-Mart to look at some plants. We explored the varieties but left the store with a $5.00 purchase: one envelope of Rutgers tomato seeds and one Jiffy Seed Starter Greenhouse. Continue reading Meanwhile, Back at The Ranch: We’re Growing More Than Tomatoes→
These markers represent some of what is now planted in my summer garden.
Cleaning out the garden, the refrigerator, the cabinet, my neighbor’s garden…that’s what My Little Victory Garden life has been like for the past week. I’m starting to use up the cabbage in my garden which leaves space for…peppers, Cucuzzi squash and cucumbers. I’m starting to pull up and use my mature lettuce heads which will leave space for, well, more lettuce. And some late okra. And we finished the summer garden bed so I can clean out the plants in my garage that have been waiting for a nice home. I just need to hire an eco-friendly skip bin rental Adelaide for green waste removal services.
I’m incredibly pumped about the beautiful heirloom varieties I purchased in Guthrie. I’ve been waiting for a good time to swing by Terra Cotta Garden Center on Division (I can’t even find a phone number for them!) because they carry a nice variety of Red Dirt Plants. They’re large, strong and healthy and help me catch up on the growing time I missed.
Everyone goes through “cleaning out” periods in their kitchen’s, homes or gardens…so here’s what mine looked like on Sunday night when I started writing this post: 1) Hmmm, I think I’ve had that box of Green Chili Stew Mix since Christmas…2009; Continue reading My Little Victory Garden, Entry 12: Cleaning Out…Everything→
This little tool saves hours in the garden, so I can spend hours away from it.
It’s been said that the right tool makes every job easier. I say, that, my friend, is a fact.
I spent many hours on Mother’s Day relocating my last year’s garden. I discovered that mowing around it was a problem, so this year we decided to make a few adjustments. Creating a new garden is easy enough, however, filling in the former garden spot with grass (not weeds) can be tough. I had been working diligently relocating Bermuda grass when I remembered a garden tool I bought a couple of summers ago.
My husband calls this the “Weed Twister.” It was purchased because I refused to use weed killer in my yard. We had finally begun to see some grass growing on our property, but it was accompanied by a monster weed that was virtually impossible to dig up. I was spending ten or fifteen minutes digging up each weed. I was not getting very far. This tool helps get the job done. The key is the claw at the bottom. The claw is attached to a long pole so the gardener does not have to continuously bend over. Simply stand over the weed, pound the tool into the ground over the weed, and twist. Do it again. That should loosen it enough to get even the toughest weed out of the ground. Continue reading Meanwhile, Back at The Ranch: The Mother of All Garden Tools→
I recently received my first delivery from the Oklahoma Food Cooperative system and now I have to think about how to use my food! In my mind the first thing I knew I had to investigate was the Buttermilk from Wagon Creek Creamery. I wanted to know if I could bake with it, and how the product would act in a recipe. My solution? Have a Buttermilk Biscuit Throwdown and ask my family to judge the results.
Here is the description from their listing on the Coop website:
Our buttermilk is the direct byproduct of our buttermaking process. This buttermilk is not cultured (so it isn’t as thick nor as sour as what you purchase at the supermarket.) We freeze it to keep it fresh. Just thaw and use in your favorite biscuit, pancake, fried chicken, etc. recipes! Packaged in a sealed 8 oz. container. Because it is a by product of the butter making process, it may contain a little salt. Ingredients: buttermilk, salt.
Although I have always been fine using Braum’s Buttermilk, a small voice inside my head said, “Do it. Order the buttermilk and see what it’s like.” So I did. I comes frozen in a plastic pouch. I set it in my refrigerator on ordering day and noticed the defrosting time was about 48 hours. This product sells for $1.99, so it’s clearly more expensive than the Braum’s counterpart.
Let’s look at the Braum’s product. Here is the description of their half-gallon from their website:
Braum’s Grade A Pasteurized Buttermilk is real old fashioned buttermilk! Made with low fat milk fresh from our dairy herd on the Braum Family Farm…you can’t get any fresher than that! Great by the glass or use it as an ingredient in your favorite recipe!
This spring the rain has been abundant and the sun intermittent, but many of my hardy plants have come back from last year in multiples. I am happy to share them with friends.
Last week I overheard my friend Anna say that she’d like to plant some Lemon Verbena. Lucky for her, I have tons. Her only job was to provide me a list of its uses. I am going to try it as a tea.
I gave my friend Deauna a bunch of oregano that came back from last year. She is a great cook, so I know it’s something she will use. I kept a little for myself. I will try to cook something with it…but no promises as to how it will come out. The good thing is that I have plenty to use in my culinary experiments.
My herbs are planted in a wagon wheel-six herb plants fit perfectly!
Sometimes I go back and re-read my posts then really cringe. Take last week’s “Victory Garden” entry, for example. Here are all the Blog Boo-Boos I found: a) I talked about Teaoli and didn’t even provide you with photos or information. b) I wrote some sort of introductory statement like, “And now…here are the finished quiches, feast your eyes!” and followed that up with a photo of my broccoli. Wha?? And, 3) I talked about Teaoli and didn’t even provide you with photos or information. The Teaoli little faux pas is worth two bullet points.
Nestled in the northwest shopping corner of 15th & Bryant in Edmond awaits a very special place for you to explore. The owners would love you to come in and taste olive oils, infused olive oils, balsamic vinegars, blended balsamic vinegars, and teas…and teas and teas. Every time I go shopping for olive oil, I always want to taste it. And now I finally can. I’ve spent between $7.00 and about $30.00 for approximately 14-18 oz of olive oil. Their 14 oz bottles are $14.50, a mid-range price-point for oils by and large from California. I can recommend my first purchase: Arbequina Extra Virgin Olive Oil. The description reads, “Fresh and lively with a mild to medium intensity with notes of green apple peel and herbs.” I just uncorked it again to take another whiff and see if I agree with their narrative. (*inhale….okay, another inhale*) Yes. Continue reading My Little Victory Garden, Entry 10: Teaoli, Delivery Day and “Garden Improvement”→
One of my favorite Spring sights: Our Japanese Maple unfolding all its beautiful leaves to receive the sun's rays.
When I started these posts, I was a little worried about having enough content. After my first two or three entries, however, I now struggle with CUTTING enough content to avoid overwhelming our reading friends with too much information! This week was certainly another struggle. Included in today’s post will be information about the bargain eggs at St. Francis of the Woods on Highway 33, the opening of the Edmond Farmer’s Market and some treasures I found there, a beautiful olive oil, tea and vinegar shop in Edmond, broccoli and why it bolts, and…101 ways to cook with spinach. Okay, I’m joking about the spinach – I’m just sharing one way. If I were going to write a book on 101 ways of anything right now, it would be, “101 ways to pack 12 gallons of cleaned lettuce in your refrigerator.” We’ll get to that. But first, my journey to St. Francis of the Woods… Continue reading My Little Victory Garden, Entry Nine: Gimme a Little Quiche!→
"Spinach - it's what's for dinner." That's all I said. One day, I'm out picking spinach while whistling a theme from the ballet Rodeo, and my spinach has been making fun of me ever since. Taunting me...seriously. It fancies itself Dana Carvey, and talks to me in "Western" vernacular, and makes fun of the fact that I like to read. How 'bout this. I'll even let you hear what it says...
Black Seeded Simpson Lettuce: We're eating SOOO-O-O- much lettuce right now, because there is so much! When I go to the garden and cut some more, this is what it says: "I have been chosen...."
It’s easy to blame parents these days. For example, have you seen how many kids have cell phones? They were all bought in the spirit of “convenience.” When I was a kid, there were no cell phones, so my parents bought me a motorcycle.
The motorcycle was also purchased in the spirit of convenience. I was about to be fourteen with two much younger siblings at home. It was going to be so much easier for me to put my ballet and tap shoes in a little backpack and head to dance class on my Honda CB 125 than it was to load up the previous items along with two other little people. At least that’s what I’ve heard. So, one day I drove my motorcycle down to the Chickasha Bank, took my written test, and hopped on my motorcycle. I drove it in front of the bowling alley and passed Taco Mayo. I made a right hand turn and circled the Braum’s and turned left from the center lane back into the bank parking lot. Voila! I had a motorcycle license.
Now along with the convenience of me getting to drive myself where I needed to go, was the inconvenience (to my parents) of me driving where I didn’t need to go. There’s too many place to list, but let’s just make a note that no other sibling was allowed to have a motorcycle after me. Sorry for ruining that guys.
In the fall of 2010, my husband and I decided to take the motorcycle course offered by our local Harley Davidson dealership. Let’s just say it was quite a bit more involved than the experience I had at fourteen. We spent an entire weekend studying the state laws and then spent Saturday and Sunday driving Buells around the dealership parking lot under the scrutiny of our peers and two instructors. After completing the one hundred question test (we both made 100’s) we had one obstacle left: the driving test. Late on a Sunday afternoon, the participants went through the maneuvers described and then demonstrated by our instructors. They held clipboards and scored us with an unknown rubric. At the end of the weekend, the scores were calculated and we were escorted into a little room to hear the results. Greg and I were the only married couple in there, so they said we could go in together if we wanted. It was devastating….for Greg. He learned that I was number one in the class, and he was number two.
"Are you sure you're in first?"
In October one used Harley Davidson was purchased. I had to be the passenger, but I
knew how to work this deal. Whenever we were at a stop sign and we would pull out into the road, I would ask, “Are you sure you’re in first?” This was really the only suggestion I ever made, but I made it a lot.
Today, I picked up my very own Harley Davidson. I don’t have any tattoos and don’t have any plans to get any. My hair is short, so it looks absolutely terrible when I take off my helmet at my destination. (Today it was Pizza Hut…not really a HOG hang out, but it was open and we were hungry). I wear jeans with my Harley boots which seems a lot safer than the swimsuit, concert t-shirt and flip flops I used to ride around in at Fort Cobb Lake. I am a confident, safe rider, and a woman who knows she can do anything she sets her mind to.
Blame my parents.
Showcasing Red Dirt culture ~ authored and managed by contributors with connections to the great state of Oklahoma.
