It's Kill It, Catch It, Cultivate It, Eat It Week... Day 1

We're going to try something different here at Casa Scampwalker this week.  We love to hunt, fish, garden, and eat the bounty.  This week, we're going to try to do it exclusively.  Here are the three simple rules:

1. Eat food that we've shot, caught, or grown -- three meals a day for a week.
2. If using food/ingredients that do not fall under rule #1, eat foods produced locally/regionally.
3. If using food/ingredients that do not fall under rules #1 or #2, they should be as close to their raw, unprocessed state as possible.

Why do such a thing?  We're not on some health kick -- we've always tried to stay away from unprocessed, pre-produced foods.  That's not only because we think it's a healthier way to live, but also because we really enjoy cooking.  We're certainly not making some statement against Big Farm agriculture or anything -- we realize that's a necessary part of the American food chain (not to mention the economy here in the Midwest).  We're just sort of curious if it can be done.  And plus, I've got to make some room in the deep freeze for some new critters!

Tonight's menu (decidedly and uncharacteristically vegetarian):

• Grilled pizzas with fresh mozzarella and homegrown garden vegetables (sauteed eggplant, carmelized onion, cherry tomatoes, and fresh basil.
• Garden fresh gazpacho, using Jose Andres' spectacular recipe.
• For dessert, the beautiful Mrs. S. baked a bing cherry pie.  Not local, but from fresh cherries and a homemade crust. 

Pretty terriffic, if I do say so myself.

Folks, until you get to read about what I shoot, you get to learn about what I cook.  Such is life in August in the Midwest. 

That is all.

James Beard's Scorpion Jalapeno Relish

It's summer, it's beastly hot, and finally - finally - the tomato plants have started bearing fruit.  Like lots.  Earlier this morning, my countertop was literally covered with them -- celebrities, early girls, lemon boys, cherokee purples, and jet stars.  They're all wonderful fresh, but we knew there was no way we'd be able to eat them all before they went bad.

What to do?  Go to the Scampwalker family archives and can some scorpion jalapeno relish, created by the legendary James Beard.  And this cooked relish/salsa befits the great chef, back before chefs were celebrities.

Some 30 years ago, I remember my own dad toiling away in the kitchen, chopping tomatoes, peppers, and onions by the potful.  I was only passively interested in its creation (much like my own kids this very day).  But when it was done?  No finer concoction has ever adorned a tortilla chip. 

Back when I was a kid, I can remember popping a jar open during a Cornhusker football game on a snowy Saturday afternoon, and nothing brought back memories of a distant summer more vividly.  I recall eating it on the back of a tailgate for lunch on a pheasant hunting trip.  And I fondly remember fishing trips on Nebraska's Merritt Reservoir where my dad, my brother, and I -- along with our guide turned close friend -- ate scorpion and tortilla chips and drank gin and tonics (the aptly-dubbed "champagne cruise") while routinely reeling in six-pound walleye.  This salsa is memories.

And despite it's menacing name, it's not particularly hot.  It's sweet, with a nice acidic tang, and a mild kick.  The recipe, below, was given to me by my dad.  I can't seem to find any history on it, nor the cookbook it came from anywhere on the internet (a rarity these days).  My adaptation is below.

5 pounds ripe tomatoes
2 medium onions
1 cup sliced jalapenos, most seeds and veins removed
2 bell peppers
2-3 coarsely chopped garlic cloves
1 cup apple cider vinegar
1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon chile powder
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

Coarsely chop the tomatoes and onions, and cook in a large pot over medium heat for about 10 minutes.  Then add the rest of the ingredients, and cook until the peppers and onions are softened a bit, but not mush.  Don't cover the pot -- you want some of the liquid to cook off.

You can eat it fresh at this point, or if you want to can it, use standard waterbath canning techniques, using pint jars with about a quarter inch headspace, and simmer for 15 minutes.

It was my first attempt at waterbath canning, and so far, so good -- the seals are all tight and I can look forward to the taste of summer all year long.  Thanks, Pop.

Let The Bounty Begin

It's been about a month and a half since I talked about my garden -- that 20x20 expanse of hope that we planted back in mid-May.

I'm happy to report that the garden is doing fine -- amazing in fact.  That's by no means a brag, I assure you.  Sure, we've set the table by timely planting, watering, mulching, and weeding but nearly every crop in my patch has thrived.  I mean, like moreso than many other accomplished Master Gardeners that are my neighbors.  And I have no idea why.  Maybe there is something to this green thumb thing. 

Whatever it is, it's been a great family affair, and truth told, kind of addicting.  I used to dread pulling weeds, now I actually enjoy it (no such luck for the kids yet).  And walking up to my plot (it's on the neighborhood schoolyards about a mile from my house) is akin to the feeling you used to get on Christmas morning -- you never know what you'll find.

Such was the case over the weekend.  We'd all been looking forward to harvesting the first Early Girl tomato of the season, but we all assumed there'd be little else to do other than pull a few more weeds.  Boy were we wrong.

The tomato was indeed ripe for the picking, and so were peppers (jalapenos, bells, and anchos), eggplant, zuchini, a few green and yellow wax beans, carrots, and a nice boquet of zinias and other garden flowers. 

The kids have hatched a plan to sell any extra produce (the Good Lord willing, I think we'll have plenty) at my office, with the proceeds going to the local food bank.  Hopefully their "Tomatoes For Change" campaign will help some folks out who otherwise might go hungry.

I Am A Gardener.

It's been raining here in Kansas City pretty much all day today. Normally, I'm not a big fan of dreary days. But today -- like the tens of thousands of farmers across the fruited plain, I'm grateful for a good soaking by Mother Nature.

Ok, so I'm hardly a career ag man. But this spring, for the first time ever, the Scampwalker family has a real, honest-to-goodness garden. Our church, in conjunction with the neighborhood grade school, tilled up part of the schoolyard for a "community garden." Ours is a 20x20 square plot -- we're responsible for the planting and upkeep, and in turn we're free to eat or donate as much produce as we want.

I've quickly learned that a twenty-foot square of black earth is a significant amount of ground. Being the tech dweeb that I am, I found a nifty online garden planner at growveg.com, and you can see my layout below. Everything is in the ground now and doing well, minus the pimientos de padron, which are still tender seedlings being nurtured at home.

There have been a few early setbacks -- something ate our okra and bush bean sprouts, so my son and I recently encircled the Scampwalker Plantation with chicken wire (or the "Bunny-B-Gone 2010," as the kids call it). Personally, I'd rather snipe the critters with my pellet rifle, but something tells me school administrators and the local P.D. might frown on such activity, no matter the time of day.

I've never styled myself as much of a gardener, but neither am I completely inept. I certainly come from good vegetable gardener stock -- growing up, my Dad grew some of the finest tasting tomatoes anywhere.  We're keeping copious notes and doing plenty of reading to hopefully ensure success.  It should be an interesting summer and a learning experience for all of us.