Lemon Cream Pie

As I discovered when I asked for comments about favorite pies, a bunch of you readers love a good lemon pie.  So, as a gift to you, I'd like to share this recipe I found.  If you frequently get a hankerin' for a lemon pie, this recipe is definitely one to add to your box.  It comes from this month's Real Simple.  Click here for the link to the recipe (and much better pics of a much more put-together looking pie).

I think these are the ingredients that MAKE the pie! 

The crust is made of crushed gingersnaps.  And the filling uses real lemon zest and juice.

Everyone loved the pie.  Girl 1 said she could do without the lemon zest, but it didn't stop her from gobbling up her slice at dinner last night.  Then, this morning, my little lawyers were hard at work trying to convince me that a slice of lemon pie qualifies as fruit so that they could have it for their morning snack.  (I let it slide this time, since I was ready for another slice myself ;)

Okay, maybe I should work on my pie-serving skills.  Thankfully, it still tastes great.  And, seriously, to see much better pics and to get the recipe, check out the original recipe.

Hear that? It's the Sound of Progress!

Even now, as I sit here on the sofa typing this, I can hear the sounds of progress coming from the backyard. 

Let me explain.  A few years back, we bought the open field behind our house, mostly just to ensure that no one would build right behind us.  Since then, we've amassed a small farm in the backyard and have decided that it's time to make better use of that acre and a half just sitting back there.

Here's the field.  It's currently unfenced, but that is about the change.  It'll soon be surrounded by goat-proof fencing and contain a separate pen we plan to use to keep the bucks away from the gals.

Right now, our yard has privacy fencing on three sides and chain-link along the back (between the backyard and open field).  But, chain-link is not tall enough or sturdy enough for goats, so it's got to go. 

Luckily, John has buddies with fun toys.

Here he is knocking down one of the fence posts.

And here, the fence is down!

Now, he's working at further clearing the west fence-line, which is pretty overgrown.  Friday, the guy building the fence will be putting in posts; and by sometime next week, our goats should be able to frolic in and munch the fresh grass!

An Even Better Coffee Creamer

If you tried out the Honey Vanilla Creamer and liked it, you're gonna love this one! 

While it doesn't use goat milk, it does use half-and-half.  I bought a 2 cup carton (the smallest my supermarket carries) for a recipe last week that only called for 1 cup. 

I can't stand to waste food.  So, I thought I'd find a way to use that other cup of half-and-half before it goes foul in my refrigerator. 

And . . . Voila!    Another homemade coffee creamer!

Homemade Vanilla Creamer

1/8 c. packed brown sugar

1/8 c. honey

1/2 Tbs. vanilla extract (the real stuff, if possible)

1 c. half and half

Combine brown sugar, vanilla, and honey in a small saucepan over medium-low heat.  Stir occasionally until sugar is melted.  Don't let it get too hot or bubbly. 

Remove from burner and slowly whisk in the half-and-half. 

Store in a glass container in your fridge for a week or so.

Yum!

Beauty You Won't Find at the Supermarket

Since the primary goal of the garden is to produce edibles for our table, it's beauty is often overlooked.    As I've never before grown potatoes, this is my first encounter with a sweet potato bloom.  Isn't it beautiful?  Apparently potatoes aren't only about what's going on under the soil!

The bees seem to like them, too.

And, how about these!  We gathered these from the garden and set them in a vase on the kitchen table.  Can you name the garden plant they come from?

For the Love of Barbara . . .

If you haven't already picked up on this, I'm reading through an essay collection by Barbara Kingsolver right now in all my free time (read with sarcasm).  Anyway, I'm loving her, and I'm sure you do, too.  So, here's a good excerpt for today:

"Of all the ways we consume, food is a sensible one to attend to.  Eating is a genuine need, continuous from our first day to our last, amounting over time to our most significant statement of what we are made of and what we have chosen to make of our connection to home ground.  We can hardly choose not to eat, but we have to choose how and choices can have astounding consequences.  Consider this:  The average food item set before a U.S. consumer traveled 1,300 miles to get there.  If Mr. Average eats ten or so items a day (and most of us eat more), in a year's time his food will have conquered 5 million miles by land, sea, and air. Picture a truck loaded with apples and oranges and iceberg lettuce rumbling to the moon and back ten times a year, all just for you.  Multiply that by the number of Americans who like to eat -- picture that flotilla of 285 million trucks on their way to the moon -- and tell me you don't think it's time to revise this scenario."

What to Do with Rainbow Chard?

Confession time . . . Before growing it in my own garden, I'd never before tasted Rainbow Swiss Chard. 

In my defense, have you ever seen the Baker Creek Heirloom Seed Catalog? 

When the girls get their allowance, it seems to burn holes in their pockets.  They virtually chuck it away at the first quarter machine that crosses their path.  So, we instituted a new rule.  They're only allowed to spend money on items they went into the store intending to purchase.  That has seemed to solve a lot of problems for us.  Want gum now that you're seeing it in the checkout line?  Have a look.  Decide which kind you want so that you can buy it next time we're here.  

I think I need to go by similar guidelines myself when it's time to shop the seed catalog.  Before I open the catalog and indulge myself in those glossy photos of heirloom fruit, I should make a list of the items I know I want to grow.  Then, and only then, should I open the catalog and make my selections, sticking to the list, of course.  

Since I didn't follow these guidelines, I have a lovely crop of Rainbow Chard and no idea what to do with it.  When leaves were young and tender, we used them in fresh salads.  I've tried a few recipes (like the previously posted soup) and a more recent Chard with Pinto Beans and Goat Cheese (pictured below) that was lackluster at best.  

I mean, it was beautiful in the catalog, in the garden, on the cutting board, in the casserole dish, on the plate.  But, other than the soup and salad, I'm just ill-equipped for getting this beautiful green to the table.  Suggestions? 

Good Help Is Hard to Find

Those who know me, know that I've got 3 adorable rugrats running around here.  The older two are in school most of the year while Little Boy is my constant sidekick.  Now, though, we are all at home for summer break.  Together.  All day.  And I'm trying desperately to redirect them every time I hear, "Mom, can we watch a show?"  My aversion to television is a whole other post altogether, though, and not the point of this post.  What was the point of this post again?

Oh, yeah.  The point is, that I've got a whole lot of farm/household chores to get done around here and lots of "helpers" right now.  Let me explain why "helpers" needs to be in quotation marks.  ?Take this morning, for example . . .

Girl 1 decided this morning that she would like to earn an extra quarter by cleaning out the goat pen while I weed the strawberry patch.  Great!  Go to it!  Meanwhile, Girl 2 would like to help me weed the strawberry patch, only she can't find her gloves.  "Mom, will you help me find my weeding gloves?"  I find the weeding gloves by the swingset, where Little Boy would like a push, or two, or 100.  I return to the strawberry patch, gloves in tow, just in time to hear that Girl 1 needs help wrestling the hose into the goat pen.  I help her finish up the goat pen cleanout only to return to the berry patch and find that "weeding" to a 5-year-old apparently means uprooting every living thing.  Oh, well.  Little Boy would like a snack.  Everyone would like some water.  Looks like we're headed back inside, and the strawberry plants that survived their run-in with a 5-year-old still haven't been properly weeded. 

Sometimes, it would be easy to get frustrated with them because they don't get the work done as smoothly, quickly, or efficiently as I could do it.  But, then I remember, my 7-year-old asked me if she could clean the poo from the goat pen.  My 5-year-old asked me if she could help pull weeds.  So what if it takes twice (or maybe 5 times) longer to get the job done?  My kids are learning the value of work.  They enjoy seeing the finished product of a job well done.  They are learning what it means to be part of a team. 

And, if we're patient about teaching them how to do these things, one day, Girl 1 really will be able to clean out the pen all by herself.  And, I'll be able to trust that Girl 2 knows the difference between Bermuda grass and strawberry vine.  In fact, last week, I mused to my husband that for the first time ever, the kids and I actually cleaned the entire house faster than I usually do it on my own.  Seriously.  Now, it's taken us awhile to get to this.  For example, there was the time that I refilled the dusting spray bottle, put Girl 2 to work in the living room then came back to find the bottle empty again and all surfaces with standing liquid.  And, sure we've had a few mirrors that looked worse after they were cleaned than before.  But, now, here we are -- cleaning faster as a team than I can do it as an individual and having fun as we do it. 


For the sake of honesty, I should reveal that I am the kind of person who would much rather do a job myself so that it will be done up to my standards than delegate, so this type of patient teaching ending in below-par results doesn't come naturally to me.  I am constantly having to remind myself that the ultimate end result is not the result of that individual job --we're working toward something so much bigger -- and that end result is worth my own inward struggle.

  Ultimately, we may not be nearly as productive this summer as just Little Boy and I are during the school year, but we'll be having fun and learning valuable lessons all along the way.