St. Patrick's Day Celebration...Fun Facts about Corned beef...and Vampires?

With St. Patrick's Day just around the corner, I'm inspired to share some fun Irish stuff!

John and me at St. Patrick's Mt. in Ireland

For instance, lots of people in the U.S., whether of Irish ancestry or not, recognize this big day of all things Irish by going for corned beef and cabbage. I recently discovered corned beef is not a traditional Irish dish!

After the English colonized Ireland, they started raising beef...only to export it out of the country to England and beyond. For exporting, the beef was salted and pickled with peppercorns and other spices, i.e., "corned." As a result, back in the olden days, beef became too expensive for most native Irish to eat.

With the Irish potato famine, and the hundreds of thousands of Irish emigrating to America, many of them settled in U.S. cities, in immigrant neighborhoods. Irish folks found themselves living near Jewish delis and butcher shops. With many Irish getting higher wages and standard of living, they could now afford the corned beef they found in the local deli. Naturally, they prepared the beef with familiar foods from the old sod, spuds and cabbage,  and a new

Irish Flag Food

Irish-American delicacy was born!

John's daughter Sasha likes to celebrate St. Patrick's Day in a big way...last night, she created a festive corned beef dinner with green, white and (sort of) orange to represent the flag of what country?!

Now, about those vampires...while vampires definitely have nothing to do with the patron saint of Ireland, did you know lots of vampire lore originated from Irish authors? Bram Stoker, the creator of "Dracula"  was born in Dublin. While "Dracula" is pretty much the definitive vampire of literature, decades before, an Irish writer, Sheridan Le Fanu, penned "Carmilla." Featuring a female vampire, "Carmilla" is the first vampire story I ever read (I go for romantic women's fiction over horror!). But the novella's sense of dread, building suspense, and just good 'ol spookiness was utterly riveting! You can find the story in the QPB Book of Irish Literature.

Hen Attack Update

An update to my last post, "Chicken Molting Madness," is some good news! Buffy has finally rejoined our flock of laying hens.

Buffy (blond hen) feeding with the other "girls"!

The four laying hens that ganged up on poor Buffy, our 5th hen, during her molting process, have apparently decided that Buffy is indeed one of the flock. After more than two months of attacking Buffy on sight, meaning our persecuted chicken had to take refuge in the coop all day long, the Gang of Four are now allowing her to freely partake of the feeder. And hang out with them! This change seems to coincide with Buffy laying again...her eggs are much smaller and lighter in color than the eggs the other four lay, so when these little eggs showed back up in the next boxes last week, we knew Buffy was doing her hen thing.

Interestingly, now that Buffy is part of the flock, she's returned to being skittish with John and me. Not as frightened of us as she was before the attacks began, but now, when we offer her a nosh from the feed container, she won't eat from it like she did before.

I miss that. But in any event, it's a huge relief, knowing that Buffy is once again safe, eating, drinking and regaining her chicken mojo!

Chicken Molting Madness

I thought they were going to kill her.

Cleaning the main hen run, I heard a terrible squawking. Our four chickens had Buffy, our Buff Orpington, pinned against the fence, pecking at her mercilessly. Running at the scrum of birds, I shouted, “Get off! Get off her!” For one horrified instant I watched Buffy go limp, her head drooping onto the ground.

My husband John came racing over from the woodpile. He got to the birds first. “Stop that!” he yelled, pushing the four girls off Buffy.

“Is she dead?” I asked, panicked.

“No,” he said, just as Buffy moved a tiny bit. She slowly got to her feet, apparently uninjured, except for losing some feathers. As John and I chased the other birds away, Buffy made a beeline for the ramp into the coop and disappeared inside. And there she stayed.

The other four chickens had been picking on Buffy for weeks, ever since she started molting. That’s the naturally-occurring process when laying hens gradually lose their feathers, and grow in a new set; it’s also a time that gives a hen’s reproductive system a break…a reboot, as it were.

Buffy had always been a bit of an outsider. She kept her distance from the other birds, and had always been very skittish around John and me. She pretty much wouldn’t come near either of us. She’d also been the first to start losing her feathers, and the other hens had pecked at her thinning spots. I guess a molting hen is sort of a “weak link.” But Buffy has paid a heavy price for playing it cool with her four flockmates. For a few days leading up to this last attack, they’d been seriously ganging up on her. Buffy had proved to be a masterful escape artist, extricating herself and running away, but the other girls’ aggression had stepped up.

After this most brutal assault, Buffy wouldn’t leave the coop. Too terrified to come outside, she wasn’t eating, nor was she even drinking any water. After locking the four attackers in the main hen run, separating them completely from Buffy, I’d open the man door to the coop, and coax, “It’s okay, you can come out.” But she still wouldn’t leave, and would just mill around on the floor.

After several days without eating or drinking, without sunlight or being able to scratch, Buffy was not only losing her hen vitality. She began to look sick. Half of her feathers were pretty well gone; her comb was pale and flopped over, with strange blue spots on it. On Day Four of Buffy not taking any nourishment, I said worriedly to John, “I wonder if she’s going to make it.

”

John looked bleak. “There’s not much we can do,” he said, “since we can’t guard the coop and run 24/7.”

We talked a little about building a separate run and tiny coop for her. But our budget had been recently stretched when one of our generators died and we had to replace it. Besides the expense, it seemed like a lot of trouble for a situation that might only be temporary. In the short term, we hoped that Buffy could hold on until the molting process had wound down.

I decided to try something new. I locked the other four hens in the third “hen yard” John and I had created last spring. Then I went to the main chicken pen, opened the man door and left it open, which blocked the view of the other hens. I sprinkled some feed in the doorway then backed away. Buffy just looked at the food for a while. Then, low and behold, she slowly came over to the doorway. With the other hens, and me, at a safe distance, Buffy began pecking at the feed.

She didn’t eat for long, and returned to the coop. But I kept trying. Each afternoon I’d open the door, sprinkle some feed on the ground. Each time, she ate a little bit more. But she still didn’t go near the waterer. I’m guessing the feed had enough water in it to keep her from dying from dehydration.

A few days of this, I started to sprinkle more feed further away from the doorway, like a little Hansel and Gretel trail of breadcrumbs, to get her closer to the waterer and the feeder. It worked! She would creep out a bit more into the run. The one day, what do you know! She went to the waterer and drank, then to the feeder.

I could see she was still weak. But with each day that passed, she ate and drank more, and definitely looked a little stronger. Eventually, she slowly ventured into the main hen yard, into the daylight. She really was going to make it!

Buffy "treed" up on the stump

For a long while, she would stay in the coop until the other four hens were locked away from her. This past week, however, she’s been coming outside, into the main run with the others. They’re still attacking her—not quite as savagely—but they still won’t let her alone. John and I can only conclude that the other hens see her as not part of the flock. But she’s figured out a workaround. She’ll somehow get away, and take refuge up on the old big leaf maple stump in the run. She’ll spend hours up there, again, without eating, but at least she’s safe until we can get outside.

Interestingly, Buffy has lost her fear of John and me. We can now come quite close to her, to give her scratch or to clean the coop, and she doesn’t skitter away. I guess she’s figured out we’re not the threat any more.

It’s been a couple of months, and Buffy is once again fully-feathered, and alone in the hen yard, she'll happily scratch in the dirt. So far, the strategy of locking the other hens into a separate yard is preventing more attacks, but it’s not a long-term fix. John and I have been keeping hens for four years now, but we’re still stumped about what to do to keep her safe.

If you have any insights about how to re-integrate a flock, I hope you’ll post them here...

And you can find free ebooks and more about my homesteading memoirs at www.susancolleenbrowne.com!

Handmade Holiday Gift Idea

Do you love the idea of creating handmade gifts, but feel you’re not “craftsy” enough? Or are you rolling your eyes over lifestyle magazines, whose covers promise “a simpler season” then suggest “affordable” presents like a supersonic hair dryer ($500) or a moveable makeup table ($599)?

Well, angst no more. Here’s an inexpensive, hand-crafted gift idea that needs no glue gun, glitter, or any special supplies or tools: All-natural Face and Body Cream. It’s a luscious, buttery cream that’s so easy to make, you just might give up your store-bought products and starting making it for yourself! All you’ll need are some nice oils, beeswax, plus some kind of liquid like a tea or tincture, a little elbow grease, and voila!

Before I share the recipe, here’s a little background. When we first moved to the Foothills, I discovered some handmade face cream made by Delle, a local woman, who sold it at the village mom ‘n pop store. This cream was not only moisturizing, but had healing properties too, like soothing bug bites, scrapes, and any and all skin irritations. It was pretty pricey: $8 for a 4 oz jar, but the cream was so amazing, and I was happy to support a local business.

Within a year or so, however, Delle pulled her product from the mom ‘n pop to sell direct. Plus she raised the price to $14. The new price made me blink a bit, but since I was well and truly addicted to this face cream by now I had to have it. To order some, I phoned Delle, a fellow Foothills resident, and she invited me to drop by her place to buy my supply.

John and I made the 20-mile trip via several twisty-turny country roads to her house. After she showed us her garden where she raised many of her ingredients, I happily purchased a couple more jars of her cream. But I confess, when I did the math it wasn’t pretty. Forty miles of gas + an afternoon away from my own garden work and writing + $28 for two small jars of cream…Adding things up = time for a change.

I noted Delle’s ingredients: 5 kinds of high-quality oils and beeswax were the first 6 listed. Green tea was number 8 or 9. Then I went online to find a homemade skin cream recipe that looked similar. While I didn’t come across one with Delle’s extensive list (which was okay, since she had so many components most of them would probably contribute only tiny amounts), I did find a promising recipe with pretty affordable ingredients.

Ingredients, including beeswax blocks and right-sized jars

Since then, I’ve made my cream many dozens of times—John calls it “Sue doing her alchemy”—and had great results. So here’s my method:

All-Natural Face Cream

½ oz. beeswax, finely chopped (I buy 1 oz. blocks at my local food co-op)

6 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

3 tablespoons almond oil (also purchased at the co-op)

½ cup distilled water

1 teabag green tea

A few drops Vitamin E

Small metal bowl

2 small heat-proof jars

One of Delle's original jars 

To sterilize the jars: Fill a large sauce pan with water and bring to a boil. Gently ease the jars into the boiling water for a few minutes, then remove with tongs and let cool.

A quick note on sterilizing: this cream has Vitamin E in it to act as a preservative, but no chemical preservatives, unlike your drugstore brands. Sterilizing isn’t strictly necessary, but doing this step does help your product last longer without getting funky. (A side note: This recipe makes 2 jars, and I keep one jar in the fridge. During really hot weather, I keep my whole supply in the fridge. Again, without chemical preservatives, the shelf life isn’t long.)

Next, turn the heat down to medium-low. Pour out at least half the saucepan’s water, then put the pan back on the burner, and rig it up as a double boiler. I have a metal steamer that fits inside my largest saucepan, which works fine.

Pour the oils into the small bowl, place the bowl on your double boiler and begin warming the oils. Into the warming oil goes your cut-up beeswax. With the saucepan at a moderate simmer, melt the beeswax—this should take about 5-10 minutes—then immediately remove the bowl of melted beeswax and oils from heat, and add several drops of Vitamin E.

While the beeswax is melting, make your liquid component. The original recipe that inspired this one called for rose water, but since that’s hard to find I’ve settled on green tea, which has antioxidants and a very light odor. Plus Delle used it! Boil your ½ cup of distilled water, pour into a mug with the teabag, and let it steep.

As soon as you’ve pulled your oil/melted beeswax off the heat, time to carefully watch it! As the mixture cools, wax will begin to solidify around the edge of the oil. Stir these bits of wax back into the oil to keep everything melted. What you want is the mix’s sweet spot: not too hot, or your product will be oily instead of creamy. But cool it too long, and tiny bits of hardened beeswax will mar the smooth texture you’re aiming for. So just at that point where the cooling beeswax isn’t quite melting back into the oil, pour in 3 tablespoons of semi-cooled green tea and start whisking!

I just whisk in the green tea with a fork, but you can use a proper whisk, or even shake everything up in a jar. (If you’re read my previous recipes, you’ll know I’m big on mixing by hand, not machine!) Whisk for about 10 minutes—either until the melted oils and tea has emulsified into a soft yellow, with the texture of whipped cream—or your arm feels like it’s going to fall off. When you’ve reached that lovely, buttery consistency, spoon the cream into your prepared jars. It will continue to cool, and solidify just a bit.

The final step: prepare to delight your recipients…I firmly believe that this cream gives your skin a luminous glow that store-bought products can only hope for!

Pickles in your Fridge!

Harvest Time is Pickle Time!

At a recent book event for Little Farm Homegrown, a local chef, Christy Fox from Evolve Chocolates + Café, stopped by to share a plate of her refrigerator pickles. She pickles pretty much every late summer vegetable: bell peppers, onion, zucchini, cabbage, even turnips! Chef Christy’s method turned out to be a lot like mine, basic and super easy. She recommends rice vinegar, to allow the vegetable flavors to shine through, garlic, spices, and herbs like thyme and tarragon, then allows the pickles to mellow in the fridge for 4 days before eating.

My cucumber patch exploded this week, so yesterday was pickle day at Berryridge Farm. Although I still use apple cider vinegar (since I like strong vinegar flavors), after getting pickling advice from a pro, I modified my recipe a bit: instead of boiling all the vinegar with the spices, I boiled only half as Chef Christy suggested, adding the remainder to the brine to cool it. I like sweet pickles, so I used sugar and honey in the brine too.

I often mix and match recipes for both sweet and savory foods, using my favorite elements of each recipe. I’ve been inspired by the recipes Scottish author Jenny Colgan shares at the end of her novels, which, for each dish, tend to be more of a method than an exact preparation. But hopefully following a basic method rather than a precise measure of exactitude allows for more cooking and baking creativity!

Back to Refrigerator Pickles and my basic method:

6 or 7 large slicing cucumbers, cut into rounds, packed into large jars or any containers of your choice. Add 1 large clove garlic, sliced thinly, to each container

2 cups apple cider vinegar (I use Bragg’s Organic)

½ cup water

1/3 cup sugar

Honey, seasonings, and spices

I bring 1 cup of the vinegar with the water and sugar plus salt to taste (I don’t like a lot of salt) to a boil, then remove the pan from the stove. After allowing the brine cool a bit, I add the 2^nd cup of vinegar and 2 Tablespoons honey and stir well. When the brine has cooled to warm/lukewarm, I pour it into the  filled jars, hopefully covering most of the sliced cukes. After a quick visit to the garden for fresh dill and dill seed, I add a sprig of dill and a couple of spoonfuls of the seed to each jar. And into the fridge they go!

The refrigerator pickle recipes I’ve seen in magazine say the pickles keep for a month, but Chef Christy says they should be good to go for three. If you go for longer storage, sterilizing your jars first is probably a good idea, then store your pickles on the lowest shelf of your refrigerator, toward the back. Happily, that should keep you in pickled summertime veggies until the holidays!

So far, my pickling adventures have been a bit limited, mostly cukes, carrots and asparagus (in early summer). But I think with this kind of pickling, anything goes!   

Recipe for Blueberry Torte—Berry Bliss!

Blueberry Torte--summer deliciousness!

This summer, our strawberry crop was a bust. Last year, we had enough strawberries for weeks of breakfast berryfests and dessert shortcakes, and still had enough extra to freeze 40 quarts. Sadly, this year was a measly harvest: a few pounds for breakfast berries, but as far as freezing for winter? Zilch.

So we’ve doubled down on blueberries for putting up. Last week, John and I picked 28 pounds at our favorite U-Pick blueberry farm to freeze for winter eating. Then, as Berryridge Farm’s blueberry crop ripened, it became clear this year’s yield is crazy! 

And although I LOVE blueberries, after taking care of the 28 pounds of off-site berries, then harvesting and putting  up over 17 quarts of our own blueberries this weekend, I was actually hitting blueberry overload. Luckily the cure is only one recipe away: Blueberry Torte.

I found the recipe in a family recipe collection a few enterprising Brownes created back in the 80s. The original recipe is for huckleberry torte, but our 3 shrubs won’t have ripe fruit for another couple of weeks, and the birds usually get to it before I do. Also, I adapted the recipe to reflect more modern tastes. Out with the Cool Whip, and in with local whipped cream, and I also reduced the sugar by about two-thirds. It’s still very sweet, and a great way to use up LOTS of blueberries. The recipe is super simple too! Here you go:

Make a graham cracker crust for a 10 inch pie pan.

Next, make your berry sauce. Although it’s a topping, it takes several hours to cool, so it’s a good idea to make it well ahead of time. Put 4 heaping cups of blueberries in a medium sized saucepan and add a small amount of water, just enough to cover the bottom, and bring to a boil. 

Then add a scant ½ cup of sugar mixed with 1 heaping tablespoon flour. Return to a nice low boil over medium heat, and cook, stirring constantly, until the berry mixture thickens—this takes about 10 minutes, then set aside and let cool. The sauce should continue to thicken as it cools. Chill in the fridge.

The middle layer: mix 8 oz. softened cream cheese with 1/3 cup sugar and 2 teaspoons vanilla. In a separate bowl, whip 1 cup heavy cream with 2 ½ tablespoons sugar and 1 teaspoon vanilla. Gently fold the whipped cream mixture into the cream cheese mixture until it’s well combined. 

Spoon into the cooled crust, and when the berry sauce is cool, pour over the cream cheese layer. You can make additional whipped cream to spoon over the berries, but the torte is already so rich and creamy you don’t really need it. Chill for at least 3 hours, then prepare for bliss!

Tip: If you have extra blueberries to freeze, putting them up is easy: I rinse the berries in a colander, let dry on clean towels, then spread on cookie sheets. Freeze for several hours, then pile into gallon-sized plastic bags. They're best eaten within 6 months, but if you keep your berry stash in a deep freeze, the frozen berries are still pretty good by late spring! 

Homestead Envy and Special eBook Price!

About a mile from Berryridge Farm, there’s a new homestead to die for.

Tucked in the hollow of a logged-off foothill, the place is in the middle of a neatly mowed field, with all the backyard farming amenities—fenced veggie garden, chicken coop and run, berry patch, and orchard trees—any homesteader could ever want. If you’ve read this blog before, you might be thinking, “Wait—from what I can tell, you’re already raising fruit trees and berries, veggies and chickens.” Okay, that’s all true. It’s just that this property is so picturesque and tidy I can’t help but wish there was some kind of homesteady fairy dust that could transform Berryridge Farm into a similarly charming spot.

This isn’t the first time I’ve felt a bit of homesteader jealousy. There’s a couple who live about five miles from us, who I call “The Boomer Homesteaders Down the Road.” With their stick-built home, cute mini-barn, hoop house and tractor, their little farm looks all-pro. Although they started an egg operation that apparently ended badly, they now have a U-Pick raspberry patch and a plot of sweet corn they’ll be selling—all within a few years of moving to the Foothills.

This new homestead, though, has the mini-farm beat by a mile. Owned by a sweet couple named Stu and Margo, retirees who sold their home in the Big City to move out here, the place has a manufactured home, like John and I have. But there the resemblance ends. Since I ride by the homestead on my bike every day, I’ve had plenty of opportunities to gaze longingly at it. Stu and Margo’s house not only has a steel roof and a beautiful deck, but flower boxes are perched on the deck railings, with more flowers in hanging baskets, and three patio tables protected by sun umbrellas create a perfect summer lounging spot.

Their chicken coop and shed are expertly constructed with real wood, the exteriors all stained a lovely golden brown so they match. The propane tank is even surrounded by matching fence so it doesn’t mar the place’s bucolic vibe, accented by a nearby antique cultivator parked among the wild daisies; everything neat, tidy and organized. If that isn’t enough to envy, just this month brought the homesteader’s pièce de resistance: a HUGE barn.

The framing and roof are already in, and it is a beaut. As I rode by today, all I could think was, Stu and Margo must have made a killing on their city home to afford a barn like this one. But then, I thought, Wait a sec—you’re sort of comparing apples and oranges. They've had two grown sons helping them build their infrastructure, and helping maintain the place. And from what I can tell, one son is building the barn too. 

Hummingbird visiting the bee balm

Here at Berryridge Farm, John built our coop and sheds by himself, and even if Hardie-plank siding and wood scraps aren’t pretty, the sheds are sturdy and serviceable. John and I don’t have a neatly mowed field, but surrounded by woods, we have privacy in spades. And instead of being cooped up in a small run, like Stu and Margo’s hens, our flock has two orchard spaces and a big patch of woods John and I cleared for them to scratch in.

And though I wish we had more time and energy to keep the weeds and brush from taking over Berryridge Farm (a battle we pretty much lost after an intense scourge or two from Mother Nature, which I talk about in Little Farm Homegrown) if truth be told, I wouldn’t change one inch of our place. Especially at this time of year, when the hummingbirds are zipping around our four bee balm patches. It’s a sight that always convinces me that we live in the loveliest place on earth.

Speaking of my new homesteading book…if you’d like a look at Little Farm Homegrown, here’s a brief sample, and you can find more about both Little Farm books at my website. And a quick heads up: Kobo Books has selected Little Farm Homegrown for "Beach Reads, a special promotion, this week in Canada!