Doris and Jilly Cook » vegan

Spring Loaded Carrot Kimchi

dorisandjilly — Fri, 25 Mar 2011 13:05:56 +0000

Last weekend I pulled up the carrots I had left to overwinter at my community garden. The boards on the raised bed were rotten, and my billy goat had offered to build me a new frame so I could put in my spring seeds. While I was grateful, that meant that I had to rip out everything still in the ground, ready or not. The carrots were a pleasant surprise. When I last checked on them a few weeks ago, they looked small, sad, lonely, and frozen. Turns out a few days of sunshine and warmer weather perked them right up.

We’ve eaten about half of the big ones already, in a slaw, a roasted carrot and beet salad, and as aromatics in yet another lentil stew. The little guys, being too delicate to cook, have found their way into a kimchi. We’re still finding daikon radish at our local farmer’s market, and carrots and radish are a natural pair. This is a quick kimchi that needs only a couple of days instead of the usual three or four to get just the right amount of tang. It’s tasty, too—I’m tempted to buy up all the daikon I can find to have enough to enjoy all summer.

Carrot Daikon Kimchi

Approx. 1/2 lb. carrots, cut into matchsticks (quartered lengthwise if small)
Approx. 1/2 lb. daikon radish, sliced thin (I used the 4 mm blade on my food processor)
3 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
1/2″ quarter ginger root, shredded
1 dried hot pepper
Scallions, if you have them
4 1/2 T kosher salt
6 c. water

1) Dissolve the salt in the water to make a brine.

2) Combine all the vegetables in a quart-sized, wide-mouthed sterilized jar. You may think they won’t fit, but push.

3) Pour the brine over the vegetables. Remove the air bubbles and convince the vegetables to stay submerged using whatever technique you’d like (I find that a jelly jar filled with brine makes an excellent weight).

4) Put your jar on a saucer (to catch spillover) and let it ferment for 2 to 4 days, depending on your preference, in cool, dark place. You should start seeing bubbles (indicating fermentation) within 12 to 24 hours. Kimchis are happiest when fermenting at 50 to 60°F, but note that the cooler your room, the longer the fermentation will take. Stored in the refrigerator, this will keep at least a month, possibly much longer.

Hot Corn Relish, Yet Again

dorisandjilly — Sun, 17 Oct 2010 18:19:48 +0000

The October CanJam focused on peppers. Though I thought about doing jars and jars of pickled peppers (and in fact put up one basic jar Monday night, following Marisa’s instructions over at Food in Jars), I wanted something more interesting. More creative. More original.

That plan backfired. Instead, I grabbed a jar of hot corn relish from the basement (canned a couple of weeks ago), gussied it up for its close-up, and called it a day. The recipe is the same one I made last year, which is basically a marginally modified version of the Ball Blue Book’s recipe.

I’ve been struggling with the CanJam for a couple of months, but haven’t really been able to put my finger on what was bothering me until now. This was about more than a lack of ideas for peppers. I’ve mentioned before that I’m a fairly utilitarian canner—I put up what we’ll eat and what I’d like to give away. While there’s some room in my cupboard for goodies like lavender lemon fig jam, what I really want is a wall full of canned tomatoes, a shelf of dried peaches, and a freezer full of kale. Food preservation takes a certain amount of time and effort, and I want the things that I preserve to be reliable, predictable, and flexible in their use. Canning carrots for the sake of learning how to carrots (I know, I know, I was the one who announced that train wreck) doesn’t really hold my interest.

Hence my recent somewhat uninspired entries in the CanJam. I like and trust my salsa verde and hot corn relish; therefore, I make them again and again, year after year. I love reading about all the creative and novel things that other people are doing for their entries for the CanJam, but by this time of year all I want to do is to get my canning done. Next year, I’ll go through the various round-ups and pick a few new things to experiment with, and hopefully I’ll find some new favorites.

Don’t mistake me—I’m thrilled that the CanJam has brought together such a fantastic community of online canners, and I’m absolutely loving all the new blogs that the Tigress’s monthly wrap-ups have turned me on to. But I’m very glad there are only two months left. And I don’t want to end up with green ketchup.

So what about you? Still making up new stuff, or back to the tried-and-true?

Hot Zucchini Relish

dorisandjilly — Thu, 23 Sep 2010 13:00:30 +0000

My grandmother used to make and sell the most astonishing hot pepper relish. This isn’t that recipe—some family secrets are meant to be kept—but it’s almost as good. It has a proven track record in winning over zucchini doubters, relish doubters, and hot pickle doubters. It’s also an excellent use for leftover, end-of-season yellow squash and zucchini.

And the best part? Because the liquid component of the syrup is unadulterated vinegar, you can vary the ratio of peppers to zucchini to your little heart’s content without compromising the relish’s safety for water-bath canning. You’re in much greater danger of burning your fingers from the hot peppers than you are of contracting botulism. If you’re sensitive, be sure to wear gloves while handling the peppers.

One other thing: in honor of my late grandmother, this hot and sweet. Feel free to cut the sugar by as much as half if that’s not your thing.

Hot Zucchini Relish

Approx. 2 pounds zucchini or yellow squash, shredded
Approx. 1/2 pound onions, shredded
Approx. 1 1/2 pound peppers, combination of sweet and hot, shredded
2 c. white or raw sugar
2 c. cider or white vinegar
2 T kosher salt
1 T mustard seed

1) Make your life easier by shredding everything in a food processor. Trust me on this.

2) Combine the sugar, vinegar, salt, and mustard seeds in a saucepan and bring to a boil. Add in the vegetables and simmer 10 minutes.

3) Meanwhile, prepare a boiling water bath and sterilize 4 pint jars* and lids. Transfer the hot relish into the hot jars and adjust the two-piece lids. Process in a boiling-water bath for 10 minutes.

I made my version with cider vinegar, white onions, and about equal parts (by weight) sweet and hot peppers. The hots ranged from a relatively mild serrano to three surprisingly hot banana peppers and a couple of cayenne. I could stand in the kitchen, eating this on crackers, all afternoon.

*Note: I will swear up and down that this made 4 half-pints for me, but everyone else is getting 4 pints. Maybe my scale’s off? Maybe I was typing the recipe from another dimension? In any case, thanks for the feedback!

A Peach Chutney for Picnics

dorisandjilly — Thu, 16 Sep 2010 14:36:35 +0000

With the gorgeous fall weather we’ve been having, shouldn’t the chutney get to go outside, too? Having simmered on the stove for more than two hours, I thought it deserved a moment of sunshine before being banished to a dark corner of the basement. Next time it sees the light of day it will be tucked neatly into a cheese sandwich, on its way to lunch in the park.

This is a versatile, dependable chutney. Last year, I tossed in a lime. This time, for the September CanJam, I went with a more stripped-down version. No lime, no garlic, minimal ginger. And—because it had become increasingly clear that I was never going to use them any other way—I used dried gooseberries instead of raisins . . . but you should feel free to stick to raisins, or even currants. Given the amount of sugar and vinegar in this recipe, it’s fairly flexible and safe to make with other stone fruits, apples, and pears.

Peach Chutney

7 1/2 pounds peaches, peeled and coarsely chopped (or even squeezed)
1 pound raisins, currants, or dried gooseberries
3 3/4 c. cider vinegar
1 1/2 pound brown sugar
3 T mustard seeds
1 cinnamon stick
1 whole clove
5 small fresh hot peppers, chopped
2 large onions, chopped
1″ piece of ginger, peeled and minced

1) Toss everything into a very large pot. This will need to cook for a long time, so you’re looking for your thickest, heaviest pot to ensure even heat distribution. Stir everything together and bring rapidly to a boil. Turn the heat town to medium and walk away. Occasionally return to stir a bit. Cook for about 2 hours, or until everything is gooey and a deep, dark brown.

2) Meanwhile, heat a boiling-water bath. Prepare your jars and lids. I needed 6 pints (actually 5 pints and 2 half-pints, for gifts). When the chutney is ready, transfer the hot chutney to hot jars. Adjust the two-piece lids and process for 15 minutes in the boiling-water bath.

Salsa Verde Safe for the Water-Bath

dorisandjilly — Sat, 21 Aug 2010 02:13:25 +0000

For the August canjam, I made what I made almost exactly a year ago today: salsa verde. And because I am creature of habit, I’ll say pretty much what I said in last year’s post: there are shockingly few published instructions available for canning tomatillos. Most of these recipes treat tomatillos like tomatoes, adding acid, and they treat salsa verde like regular tomato salsa, adding onions. But here’s the thing. Being a stubborn goat, I don’t like either of these preparations. I like a salsa verde that’s pretty much tomatillos, water, and a jalapeno or poblano pepper or two.

So what is a goat to do? Turn to Twitter, of course. Last year, zoecancan was kind enough to point me to an incredibly helpful article in the peer-reviewed journal Plant Foods for Human Nutrition. Since it’s behind a paywall, I’ve reproduced the abstract below:

Three studies were conducted to evaluate the safety of tomatillos and products containing tomatillos canned by the water-bath processing method. In the first study, plain tomatillos were processed for 25, 37.5, 50 and 62.5 min. In the second study, five tomatillo/onion combinations were prepared while five tomatillo/green chile combinations were prepared in the third study. pH evaluations were conducted to determine safety in all studies using pH 4.2 as the cut-off value. No differences in the pH of plain tomatillos were detected due to processing time. All jars of plain tomatillos had pH values below 4.1. All combinations of tomatillos/onions and tomatillos/green chile containing more than 50% tomatillo had pH values below the 4.2 cut-off value. Results of the three studies indicate (1) acidification of plain tomatillos is probably unnecessary for canning by the water-bath processing method and (2) combinations of acidic tomatillos and low-acid onions or green chile must contain more than 50% tomatillos to have a pH low enough for safe water-bath processing.

So, based on this, I feel pretty comfortable saying that it’s safe to water-bath can this version of salsa verde, or in fact any version of salsa verde where the quantity of tomatillos (by weight) exceeds the combined weight of onions and/or peppers and herbs. The acid safety cut-off is a pH of 4.6, so at 4.1, this is plenty acidic (remember that a lower pH means higher acidity).

For the recipe, along with instructions for water-bath canning (for the scientific), pressure canning (for the conservative), or freezing (for the squeamish), click here. This time, 2 pounds made 4 half-pints. It scales up, so, if you’ve got a bushel full of tomatillos, knock yourself out!

Tomato Sauce Under Pressure

dorisandjilly — Fri, 13 Aug 2010 19:51:23 +0000

Yes, yes, yes, I know. The tomato can jam entries should be posted next week, not this. Consider this post a safety intervention.

The most important thing to consider when you’re canning is whether your item is a high-acid or low-acid food. Most food-born pathogens, including yeasts, molds, and most bacteria, can be killed at 212°F. Botulism, on the other hand, that nasty, invisible, food-borne pathogen we’ve all heard so much about, can survive up to somewhere around 238°F. (It’s actually the spores that can survive, but never mind that). But because botulism can’t grow in a high-acid environment, you can still can high-acid foods in a water-bath canner that will never get about 212°F. For low-acid foods, you need the additional heat of a pressure canner, which can take you up to 240°F at 10 pounds of pressure at sea-level. Let me repeat: you can’t get botulism from high-acid foods.

With me so far? Good.

Here’s the thing. Tomatoes aren’t quite a high-acid food. They’re borderline. Older varieties, many heirloom varieties, and most of the varieties that you’re likely to grow at home, frequently are. Newer varieties—particularly the kinds of tomatoes that you tend to find in grocery stores—aren’t necessarily acidic enough. It’s therefore recommended that you add 1 T of lemon juice per pint jar, or 2 T per quart jar, of tomatoes to make them safe for water-bath canning. If you don’t like lemony tomatoes, you can always pressure can them.

Which brings us back to sauce. I’ve seen many, many recipes over the years that say that you can can tomato sauce in a water-bath canner. Many of these are in reputable books that I trust, like Anna Thomas’s The New Vegetarian Epicure. But let’s think about this for a minute. Here you are, taking tomatoes, already a low-acid food. You’re adding olive oil, probably some onions, maybe some garlic, and a handful of herbs. All of these things are low-acid foods. With each one, you’re raising the pH (lowering the acidity) of your product. The more experienced I get in my own canning, the more and more queasy I am about all the people who are going to excitedly put up jars and jars of tomato sauce in a water-bath canner this summer.

The Ball Blue Book does include a version of tomato sauce safe for water-bath canning, but it contains 1 T lemon juice per pint jar and a processing time of 35 minutes (for pints). I can only conclude that if you’re not adding something more acidic than tomatoes (like lemon juice or vinegar) to your sauce, it’s probably not safe for water-bath canning, and certainly not at the 20 minutes usually recommended in non-canning cookbooks. Ergo, you might want to try pressure canning it.

Here’s one version of a meatless tomato sauce appropriate for pressure canning, using the processing times recommended by the National Center for Home Food Preservation.

Canned Tomato Sauce

10 pounds tomatoes, peeled, cored and roughly chopped
1 large onion, chopped
6 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 c. olive oil
A big handful of basil—about a cup or so—chopped
Salt to taste (I use about 1 T kosher)

1) Heat the oil is a large, wide stockpot. The wider the stockpot, the faster your sauce will cook. Sauté the onions and the garlic in the oil until they’re translucent.

2) Add the remaining ingredients and bring to a rapid boil. Turn the heat down to medium and cook until the sauce has reduced by about half. This may take several hours, depending on your stove and your pot. If you want, you can run the sauce through a food mill at some point, but I find that if you cook it long enough, the tomatoes break down on their own.

3) Meanwhile, prepare 4 to 6 pint jars (and maybe a half-pint just in case) and an equal number of lids. Transfer the hot sauce to clean jars and adjust two-piece lids. Process pints for 20 minutes, quarts for 25 minutes at 10 pounds pressure in a steam-pressure canner.

For step-by-step instructions on pressure-canning, please see this post. Please note: I find I get a better seal, and am less likely to lose the contents of my jars, if I wait a long, long time after the pressure’s dropped before opening the lid. Like, hours.

Mixed Vinegar Pickle #1

dorisandjilly — Fri, 23 Jul 2010 21:27:22 +0000

The July Can Jam stumped me. It wasn’t so much the trans-Atlantic translation problem of “marrows” as the fact that my favorite pickle, a just barely tangy half sour, isn’t acidic enough to can. Then I found a jar of cornichons in my basement (Linda Zeidrich’s recipe, of course). I’m usually fairly diligent about labeling my jars, but this time, I apparently forgot, and I frankly have no idea how long it’s been there. My best guess? 2007. Please don’t tell the USDA. I opened it anyway, and let me tell you: those pickles were DIVINE. Having been stewing in vinegar and spices—no sugar—for at least two years, those things were so tart that I believe they may have stripped some enamel off my teeth. Tart, but delicious.

So, that did it. This year, I have decided, will be the year of vinegar pickles. Sure, I’ve got a quart or two of half sours in various stages of fermentation floating around my kitchen, but I’m hoping to can at least half a dozen pints of pure pucker pickles for my winter enjoyment. This is a mixed batch of random vegetables, including the obligatory cucumbers and zucchinis, but the recipe is fairly flexible. You could certainly add cauliflower, beans, celery, asparagus…you get the idea. Ziedrich recommends a 20-minute water-bath processing time for a version that includes mostly easily pickled things (cucumbers, peppers, onions) plus just a few carrots. If you’re planning on using lots of carrots, you’ll probably need to increase the time, but not necessarily by much. Remember, even the sturdy pickled beet only need 30 minutes. In any case, I’m not a carrot-canning expert, so change the vegetable proportions at your own risk. Please, please, please do not change the ratio of water to vinegar, but feel free to add sugar to taste.

Stuff the following things in a pint jar, in more or less the amount recommended:

3 kirby-size cucumbers
About half of a 5″ zucchini or yellow squash, cut into spears
One medium garden carrot, cut into thin spears
2 hot wax peppers, slit down the side
4 jar-length pieces of fennel, with feathers attached
1 clove garlic
1/4 t. peppercorns
1 sprig thyme
1 sprig tarragon

Combine 2 3/4 c. vinegar (I used cider vinegar) with 2 c. water and 1 1/2 T. kosher salt. Bring to a boil. Pour this over your vegetables. You’ll have canning liquid leftover—just stash it in the fridge until the next time you’re ready to assemble another jar of garden delights. Adjust two-piece canning lids and process 20 minutes in a boiling-water bath. You don’t have to wait three years to open them, but do give them at least three weeks to let the vinegar do its work.

Sour Cherry Heaven

dorisandjilly — Thu, 08 Jul 2010 13:05:10 +0000

Sour cherries are one of those ephemeral gifts of nature: if everything goes right, and it’s not too hot, or too cold, and it rains just enough, but not too much, and it doesn’t hail, cherry growers (and eaters) are rewarded with about two weeks of sweet-tart perfection. Because they are so precious, I had never tried to preserve them before this year—I have yet to arrive at the U-Pick the appropriate week, and they’re quite expensive at my local farmer’s market in Clark Park. Last year, though, Marisa over at Food in Jars gave me a rather extraordinary jar of her sour cherry preserves. I wanted some of my own, and, by God, I was going to have some.

But then I went on vacation and missed the harvest at Mood’s. Yet again.

Oh well, I thought. Isn’t eating locally all about learning that food is all about timing?

But to my surprise, some of our market’s Pennsylvania farmers showed up with a few boxes of sour cherries. I bought three pints for $3 each and dived in. I ended up with 4 pints of absolutely divine sour cherry preserves, then promptly opened one jar back up to serve to friends. And next year, I’ll pick my own and can all I want. Really.

Sour Cherry Preserves

3 pints sour cherries, pitted
2 1/2 c. sugar
Juice of one lemon
1 T real vanilla (or use a bean)
1 cinnamon stick

1) Combine all of the ingredients in a pot and bring to a boil. This is never going to gel, but bring it close to the gelling point. I used a candy thermometer and cooked it to 214°F (at sea level). Fish out the cinnamon stick and the vanilla bean, if you’re using them, and turn off the heat.

2) Meanwhile, bring a large pot of water to a boil and prepare 4 half-pint jars. Prepare your lids. Transfer the hot preserves to the hot jars and adjust the two-piece lids. Process in a boiling-water bath for 10 minutes.

Pickled Beets with Fennel

dorisandjilly — Tue, 29 Jun 2010 12:55:16 +0000

I had no idea that so many people had such a strong aversion to beets. My beet class last weekend was somewhat under-enrolled, and I kept getting e-mails that said, more or less, “I really want to come and learn how to can, except that I can’t stand beets!” How can I convince you that beets are delicious, nutritious, and beautiful to boot? Will this post help?

Picked beets were a staple in my house as a kid growing up. My mother always goes for your basic pickled beet: nothing but white vinegar, water, and sugar. I usually do, too, but on Saturday my CSA included several heads of fennel. Fennel and beets are a natural pair, so the few dedicated beet-loving souls who attended the Saturday class left with a slightly more sophisticated product. If you don’t like fennel, no problem—just leave it out. If, on the other hand, you like a spicy pickled beet, feel free to add any of the following (but probably not all at once) to your pickling jars: peppercorns, cloves, allspice, star anise, dill heads, garlic, or strips of hot pepper.

Beets are a low-acid food, so please don’t change the proportion of vinegar to water. You can, however, use cider vinegar, so long as it’s at least 5% acidity. Finally, the purpose of the sugar is merely to counteract the tartness of the vinegar and preserve the color—it’s not really involved in the safety equation. Feel free to add more or less, depending on your taste, or to substitute brown sugar, raw sugar, or a sugar substitute. I can’t predict what making all of these kinds of changes will do to the color and texture of your beets, but so long as your acid is 5%, it’s safe for water-bath canning. Finally, be sure to wait several weeks to let the beets develop their full flavor. Then devour at leisure.

Pickled Beets with Fennel

About five pounds of beets
One long fennel frond, cut into seven pieces
7 peppercorns
3 1/2 c. distilled white vinegar (5%)
1 1/2 c. water
1 1/2 c. sugar

1) Wash your beets, leaving the roots and 1″ of stems attached. Cook your beets your preferred way. Some options: pressure cooking, boiling, roasting, or wrapped in foil in the crock pot. Cool. If your beets are thoroughly cooked, the skins should slip right off. Leave small beets whole, but cut larger beets into bite-sized pieces (or slice, or quarter, or whatever appeals to you).

2) Make your canning solution. Combine the vinegar, water, and sugar in a small pan and bring to a boil. Meanwhile, heat water for a boiling water bath, warm your jar lids, and have 7 pint jars ready.

3) Place a piece of fennel and a single peppercorn in each jar. Transfer the beets to the jars and cover with hot syrup. Remove air bubbles and add more syrup if necessary, leaving 1/4″ headspace. Adjust two-piece lids. Process in a boiling-water bath for 30 minutes.

4) After the jars have cooled and you’ve checked for seals, be sure to remove the rings. The syrup is sticky, and the rings become difficult to remove if you leave them on too long. Once you’ve opened the jars, you might want to switch to a plastic lid, as the vinegar will quickly corrode a standard canning lid.

Blueberry Pucker Conserve

dorisandjilly — Sat, 26 Jun 2010 01:00:09 +0000

This little experiment for the June Can Jam was one of the only times that I’ve taken a spoonful of preserves and thought, “By God! I’ve got it!” This is a mixture of blueberries, apricots, lemons, and walnuts, and it’s just about perfect. It’s a “conserve” rather than a “jam” or a “marmalade” in that it has more than one kind of fruit in it (“con-”) and that the texture is more of a preserve than a jam (soft with little pieces of fruit in it). Like most of my jams, this one doesn’t have pectin in it, so the texture may vary. At first I thought I had merely created sauce, but within a few hours it started to set. At this point it’s still loose, but definitely firm enough to eat on a cracker. When you eat it, the first taste is blueberries, pure and simple, but it leaves a wonderful lemon sensation in your mouth. You can’t really taste the apricots per se, except that it’s sort of floral. You’ll just have to try it for yourself and see.

I used individually quick frozen blueberries because I still had a couple of bags in the freezer from last year and have yet to make it over to New Jersey to pick this year’s batch. No changes if you’re using fresh.

Finally, about the nuts. Nuts are a low acid food, but the blueberries and lemons are acidic enough to make this safe. I based on this a published recipe that I have now misplaced. I don’t remember the specifics except that it included raisins, more nuts, and probably more sugar. I’m therefore very confident that this is fine for water bath canning, nuts and all. If you want to be on the safe side, give it another 5 minutes in the water bath.

Blueberry Pucker Conserve

6 cups fresh or frozen blueberries
4 cups sugar
3/4 c coarsely chopped walnuts
About 12 dried apricots, chopped
2 lemons

1) Slice your lemons as thin as possible, removing any seeds, like this:

Now run your knife across them a couple of times to make strips. If you’d like, you could remove the pulp from the peel and trim out the pith, but I never bother (and besides, the pith provides needed pectin).

2) Toss everything in a pot, stir, and turn on medium heat. Add just a splash or two of water to make thing moist, then stir gently until the blueberries start to break down, the sugar melts, and you have a sauce, like so:

Meanwhile, bring a pot of water to boil for the water bath and sterilize your jars. I needed 5 half pint jars (actually, 4 half pints and 2 4-oz jars, but who’s counting?).

3) Bring the blueberry mix to a boil and cook rapidly to the gelling point, approximately 20 minutes. Be sure to keep an eye on it—it will foam.

4) Transfer the hot conserve to the hot jars and adjust two-piece lids. Process in a boiling water bath for 10 minutes.

Want one? Leave a comment by Sunday, July 4, at noon.