And yet…I found it nearly impossible to write this kind of post this year. Between my terrible photography, short attention span, scholarly book contract, and editorial clients, these kinds of posts mostly feel through the cracks. Instead, perhaps because I got swept up in the excitement of the canning media frenzy this past year, I think I tried to make Doris and Jilly into something it’s not: a trendy canning blog. Which means that I neglected to tell you about my slightly deranged kitchen experiments, like this episode of fermented kale:

It’s sort of smoky, sort of weird, and sort of delicious.

Nor did I ever get around to blogging about my attempts at homemade booze production. The rhubarb liqueur was a smash hit; I have yet to decant the plum liqueur, pictured here alongside its rather terrifying main ingredient, Everclear:

I even neglected the really useful canning posts, like the one I had planned to write for the Canvolution folks on why Ball lids don’t always fit Kerr jars. This time, I blame bad photography. No matter how many different ways I set this up, I couldn’t figure out how to show that the lids just don’t quite fit. You can’t see it here, right?

And I know the question of hollow pickles has been keeping you up at night.

So there you have it. My New Year’s Resolution for Doris and Jilly is to return to our scrappy, kitchen-hack, mad-scientist roots. I can’t promise decent photography, but I can promise a gung-ho attitude and lots of instructions. Let’s face it: we’re not a great recipe blog. Too much of what we do involves taking someone else’s recipe and figuring out how to make it work with what you happen to have lying around in your freezer. A useful service, yes, but not ultimately that interesting. At heart, we’re a how-to blog for people who want to learn how to incorporate food preservation and local produce into their regular routines, whether that means freezing peas in May, stocking up on berries in July, dehydrating apples in October, or making venison stew in January.

After all, no matter how many posts I write on jams and jellies and chutneys, I know (because Google Analytics tells me such things) that what you really want to know is how to freeze beet greens. Or beet tops. Or beet leaves. Or beat leaves. However you spell your food preservation questions, we’ll try to do a better job anticipating them. Look for more Ask the Goats, more discussions of the pros and cons of freezing vs. dehydrating vs. canning, more fermentation, and—just to keep it interesting—our first attempts at charcuterie production. Please feel free to make suggestions in the comments!

And about those dehydrated apples? For eating, you want Macs. For cooking, you want something really hard, like Gravenstein or York.

See you in 2011!

xoxo,
The Goats

See you on Facebook.

And to you loyal blog readers who made it possible for me to have such an opportunity in the first place, I am enormously grateful.

Love,
Doris the Goat

You can buy tickets here.

This is a very basic recipe—so basic, in fact, that the water bath is optional. Since I’m an oldest child and play by the rules, I have dutifully stuck this one in a boiling water bath for 10 minutes….but you don’t really have to. Unsealed, it will keep in a refrigerator for about 6 months; if you seal it without a water bath, it should still be shelf-stable. This is a hybrid that’s derived and minimized from Joy of Pickling and The Ball Blue Book.

Pickled Cocktail Onions

1 small bag white pearl onions (should yield 2 cups, peeled)
3/8 c. kosher salt
water
1 c. cider vinegar
1 T. sugar
1 T. black mustard seeds
5 peppercorns
1 bay leaf
1 dried hot red pepper, split

1) The night before, peel the onions. I did this the hard way:

…but apparently you can dip them in boiling water and cut off the root end and pop them right out. Who knew. Then point the onions in a container and sprinkle with the salt. Cover with water and let sit overnight:

2) Heat up your boiling water bath and your lids and sterilize your jar(s). For the record, I only needed 1 pint jar for this many onions.

3) Combine the sugar and the vinegar and bring to a boil. Meanwhile, arrange the drained onions and the flavorings (herbs, pepper, and spices) in your jar. When the solution’s hot and the sugar is dissolved, pour it over the onions. Remove the air bubbles with a chopstick or other convenient kitchen tool and screw on the lids.

4) Process in a boiling water bath for 10 minutes (or not).

Let these sit for about a month before you start eating (drinking) them.

On a whim, I cut one up and stuck it in the dehydrator. I cut them into 1/3″ strips and dried them at 105°F overnight. After 15 hours, about half of them were done; the other half needed somewhere between 4 to 6 additional hours. The flavor is a little odd. I sort of like them, but my husband thinks they taste like cardboard….coral cardboard. Some foods just don’t dehydrate well on their own—my attempts at strawberries and raspberries were equally weird. If I were to do it again, I think I’d blanch them in a sugar syrup first, and maybe dunk them in coconut. Because, you know, if you’re going to fall off the local foods wagon, why not go all the way?

I do love the idea of dried papaya. Any suggestions on how to make it better?