Pumpkin Experiments

At the request of my friend Penny, I bought a small pumpkin to see if it was possible to do something constructive with all the cut-out pieces of Jack-o-lantern faces when carving pumpkins this year. I’ve saved the seeds for years to toast them (which my kids love), but I’ve never used the actual pumpkin pieces. Turns out, it wasn’t that hard. Ever cooked squash? Same thing—except pumpkin is sweeter, closer to a butternut squash than anything. We eat a lot of squash and I’ve cooked it in a number of different ways over the last few years—boiling, steaming, and baking—so I wondered which would work best for pumpkin. (By the way, it’s worth owning a pumpkin carving tool—I not only used it for my pumpkin experiment, but I keep it in my utility drawer all year long for seeding squash and melons; does the job way better than any spoon.)
I cut the 5 ½ lb pumpkin into thirds and tried one each way. Guess what? They all turned out the same. It just needs a little water of some kind to turn the pieces soft when they cook. Personally, I prefer steaming because the pumpkin doesn’t absorb so much excess water, but take your pick of what’s easiest for you. Once the pumpkin is soft and cool enough to handle, the edible part can be easily scooped out of the tough outer skin. I put all of it into a 2-quart bowl (that it almost filled) and used a potato masher to turn it into pumpkin paste. I thought it would be just like canned pumpkin then, but that’s where I was mistaken.
(Steamed Pumpkin)
(Boiled)

(Baked)

It takes one more step to be useable. It was a lot mushier than canned pumpkin—I figured it was from the water it cooked in to bake, so logically, I just had to strain it out. Into the colander went the pumpkin and I continued to mash until most of the liquid was gone. I still never quite got it to the point that it looked like canned, but even as-is, it tasted good, so I figured I was on the right track. I also saved the liquid to see if I could make “pumpkin juice” of Harry Potter fame, but it’s still in my fridge and probably ready to throw out by now. Guess I’ll do more experimenting next week on that one.

(Cooked pumpkin with skin removed)

(Mash and strain)

I made pumpkin pie from a can a couple of weeks ago, which, if you look at it, has one ingredient: pumpkin. http://intuitivehomemaking.blogspot.com/2009/10/easy-as-pie.html I had used a 15 oz can, so I followed the recipe I used then and added two cups of my homemade pumpkin paste. The color was all wrong. I added more pumpkin, and it was still a washed-out orange. Hmmm, still not quite right. I ended up adding the entire batch of pumpkin to get the color right. But now it was too runny. Well, flour is a good thickener—I was going for the consistency of cake batter, so I added enough to make it ‘look right’ a little more pumpkin pie spice for good measure. The batter tasted good too, so I poured it into two pie shells and baked them for about 45 minutes.

Much to my surprise, and my family’s delight, the pies were delicious. Because they had so much fresh pumpkin in them, the flavor was richer than canned. Both pies were gone by the following night. And even though there’s a lot of fat in pie crust and a little in the batter, I just got my kids to eat 2 cups of veggies without them suspecting it!

This probably seems like a lot of talk for a small process, but I suppose you might say this was like High School science class for me. “What would happen if . . . .” Probably nobody will be cooking up five pounds of pumpkin pieces, but I’ll bet if you cooked pieces from multiple pumpkins, you could get at least two or three.

So, long story short: when you carve up pumpkins next week, throw the seeds in a colander and the cut-outs in a pan. Cook the pieces until they’re soft enough for a fork to mash easily, then scrape them into a bowl and strain out the excess liquid. If you have anywhere between 3-4 cups of pumpkin, you’re set. Add 6 oz (1/2 can) sweetened condensed milk, 4 oz. cream cheese, 2 eggs, ¼ t. salt, ½ T. pumpkin pie spice, and enough flour to thicken it to cake batter consistency ( ¼ - ½ c. ). Pour into pie shell and bake for about 45 minutes at 350, or until the filling no longer jiggles inside the pan. Cool and serve.

For toasted pumpkin seeds, rinse off the seeds until most of the mulch is gone, boil them in salt water for 5-10 minutes, then they will rinse clean. Melt 2-3 T. butter in microwave and add ½ t. salt for 2 c. seeds. (you can also add ½ t. Worcestershire sauce for a richer flavor). Stir seeds into butter mix until coated. Spread on a cookie sheet (it helps to use parchment paper) and bake at 300 for about an hour, turning every 15 minutes or so. Store in refrigerator when cool.

Happy Halloween everyone! (Hope that helps, Penny)

Patience is a virtue, right?

I believe that one of the reasons we have children is to remind us that temporal things don't matter. For nine years, we kept our table covered with clear plastic to protect it from food and fingerpaints--thus it was still pristine while all our chairs were demolished and sent out with this year's neighborhood cleanup.

Not long ago, we decided to ditch the ugly plastic. Our kids were mature now, right? Our baby has been in school for over two years now and knows how to treat things, right? Wrong! Our youngest child has a rather hot temper sometimes and has this habit of destroying things when she's angry--and she gets angry on a fairly regular basis. There are numerous examples of her explosive energy--like the hole in her bedroom wall, snapped-in-two pencils, and the countless almost-finished-but-not-quite-perfect art projects that have been shredded. (She can be a bit of a perfectionist too).

Well, I'm not even sure what made her mad this time, maybe she wasn't first-seated, but she had obviously dug a fork or knife into it and dragged it across the surface of the table for 2-3 inches. AACK! Luckily, John was there to calmly tell her that was unacceptable. I probably would have said something I'd regret later. Fortunately, I followed suit and told her how sad I was that she'd ruined something that's been nice for ten years.

She always feels badly for her misdeeds later, but what do you do when the damage is already done and often too bad to fix easily? She found me at my computer later that evening with a humble look on her face and two quarters in her hand--perhaps thinking that would fix things. We had a nice, long talk about how it never works to destroy things because you're mad. Lucifer destroys. The Lord creates. "Can't you find something constructive to do with all your angry energy?" We're focusing now on being creators vs. destroyers. As a visual image for her I quoted Pacha's wife when she gets upset in Emperor's New Groove: "I've gotta go wash something!"

It has made me think since then about President Uchtdorf's talk he gave last year called "Happiness, Your Heritage." He tells us that we can find joy in creating things. I believe it is because there is a real satisfaction in doing so. And like my seven-year-old (who I remind myself is still not accountable), only sadness can be reaped from anger because it leads to things that are destructive. And no joy can be found in following the adversary. How often do I get angry with my children because they're not quite perfect? How often do I wait it out until I'm calmer so I can deal with problems constructively? I have a lot of growing to do still, but slowly I'm learning that if I can be patient and deal with problems creatively rather than destructively, that my home is a happier place. I guess my baby and I will work on that together.

http://www.lds.org/ldsorg/v/index.jsp?hideNav=1&locale=0&sourceId=ae484bb52a73d110VgnVCM100000176f620a____&vgnextoid=f318118dd536c010VgnVCM1000004d82620aRCRD

http://intuitivehomemaking.blogspot.com/

The Wonders of White Sauce

I remember looking at my grandma’s recipe box as a little girl. I was always puzzled by a particular card labeled “white sauce.” What on earth is that? Though I’m sure I asked and I’m sure she gave me an answer, I can’t remember what was said. It was only years later, when I had to start cooking for myself, I realized why a card with a list of only four ingredients would be in her recipe box. It’s basically the foundation of any cream sauce. I realized this week that I’ve never actually written it down, since it’s so simple (and I don’t always look at recipes anyway), but it is definitely a staple of my kitchen. Here’s approximately what I do:

Melt 3-4 T butter on medium heat, stir in 3-4 T flour until lumps are gone. Add 1 c. milk, a little at a time to smooth out lumps, then add another cup of milk (or two, depending on how thick or thin I want it). Stir in ¼- ½ t. salt.

And here are my some of my personal variations:

*Cream of Tuna : add one can of drained tuna to white sauce and serve over rice.

*Macaroni & Cheese: melt 1-2 cups shredded cheese into white sauce and pour over cooked macaroni. Often, I will add several varieties of cheese at once—a slice of Swiss, a handful of cheddar, and a sprinkle of Parmesan, for example. But the real key to winning flavor is adding sour cream or cream cheese too.

*Clam Chowder: add two cans of clams to double batch of thick white sauce. Drain clam juice into stockpot, add 1 c. water and 1-2 t. chicken boullion. In broth, cook 4 large potatoes (diced), 5-6 stalks celery (sliced), and 1 large onion (diced). When vegetables are tender, pour in white sauce. Salt & pepper to taste.
[Note: I usually only have skim milk on hand, but his is one recipe that either needs more butter in the white sauce or a richer milk or cream for really good flavor.]

*Chicken Tetrazini: cook 1 diced onion & 1 diced pepper in butter before adding flour to white sauce. Add 1 c. cheese until melted, 1 can Cream of Mushroom soup, and 1 can chicken chunks (undrained) to white sauce. Stir into cooked spaghetti or angel hair pasta.

I’m sure there are dozens more variations out there. Anyone willing to share?
http://intuitivehomemaking.blogspot.com/

Going Green vs. the Worst Messes

I think I'm a pretty environmentally friendly person. We downsized our 90-gallon garbage dumpster for a 40-gallon one, have a compost bin in the back yard for organic waste, and recycle just about everything else. While the city does't take cereal box liners in the recycle bin, I at least reuse them for things like crushing bread crumbs, rolling out pie dough, and transporting the compost from the kitchen to the outside bin(they typically don't leak). I even take my reusable bags to the grocery store now. However, there are just some messes that it's really greener to not go so green.

Tonight, Chris made spaghetti & marinara sauce for dinner--yet another recipe he'd gotten from school (I'm loving this cooking class of his). Unfortunately, the pan was desparaging. Tomato paste leaves a thick residue like no other. To set that in the sink to soak would then stain the whole sink and everything in it red, not to mention the amount of soap and water I'd need to clean that out too. Then there's the sponge I'd have to throw away afterward. Still holding out for a new dishwasher.

So paper towels are my friend. Fortunately they can easily solve many of the worst cleanup problems. I go for the big, thick, slightly pricier ones because it only takes me a couple to handle a really horrible job. Three paper towels later, that 12-inch pan won't even need to soak tomorrow. Sometimes we end up trading one type of "green" for another. Living green has its place, but so does just living.

Grandma's House

My family just returned from a reunion of my great-grandparents' descendants. My great-grandfather, Willard Smith, died before I was born. My great-grandmother, Florence Grant Smith, died when I was about two. Obviously, I don't remember them at all, but I love to hear stories about them and what remarkable people they were. One of their eight children was my grandfather, Briant Grant Smith. He passed from this life in early 2004, about a year after my grandmother.

Now my children are the ones with great-grandparents they barely remember. What kinds of things do I tell them? What is the essential part of their legacy they passed on? When I was nine or ten until I was in my later teens, my grandparents, Briant and Cecile Smith, invited my brother, sister, and me to their house nearly every weekend to spend the night. It was there that I learned to grind wheat for pancakes and bread, roll out cookie dough for gingerbread men, sew doll clothes and patchwork quilts, and play games that are still favorites today. They also passed on a love and devotion to the Lord that is now such an essential part of my character and my home.

I have thought a lot about the term “homemaking” and something my cousin said at another family gathering. He and his wife lived with and cared for my grandparents while my grandma was failing from cancer: “I always planned to buy their house when they were gone, but we lived there for several months after they both had passed. I realized the feeling in their home didn’t come from their house, it came from the spirit they brought to it.” The beloved house, filled with several generations of memories, no longer belongs to anyone in the family.

Homemaking is more than dusting and vacuuming; cooking and sewing aren’t quite it either; scrapbooking and crafting are nice but not essential; and I’m not likely to be found decorating for any holiday except Christmas. Really, the true art of homemaking lies in the ability to create an environment of love, peace, and unity within the members who live there. Generations from now, I hope that is the meaning that my posterity will attach to my life when they describe what I did for a living.

Time to Floss

One of the most helpful sewing tips I ever received was from a friend who was taking a sewing class. I was probably in the middle of several Halloween costumes and mentioned how much I hate gathering things--two basting stitches that I could never get quite straight, then having your thread break halfway through the process. What a pain.

She told me about a special kind of cording that you can zig-zag over, then just pull the fabric to the correct size. "Or," she said, "you can use dental floss too." That little trick has saved me literally hours of time over the years. I've also learned that once your pieces are sewn together, you can pull the dental floss out and use it for the next project (reduce, reuse, recycle)--if you haven't sewn right through it, that is. Dental floss has become a staple of my sewing room.

I also keep a roll of floss in my kitchen. If you're feeling especially ambitious and want to make cinnamon rolls, once you've rolled up your log of bread and filling, wrap the floss around it and pull. So much slicker than a knife, which only squishes the log into an oval-type shape, and much, much faster.

The only real challenge I have with dental floss is remembering to use it in the bathroom.

Last-minute Fajitas

Last night, I couldn't think of a single thing that sounded good for dinner—or that I wanted to take the time to fix. But when I went to pick up my daughter from a friend's house, the smell of cooking peppers was heavenly. I went home and chopped up a large pepper (that my friend had given me from their garden), a large yellow onion, and a half-dozen tiny tomatillos that had come up unexpectedly in our garden (a serendipity plant from last year's crop).

I never have the right kind of meat on hand for fajitas, so I hardly ever make them, but I had purchased five pounds of lean hamburger during my shopping trip earlier in the afternoon. So into the mix went a pound of it. The hamburger cooked at about the same rate as the vegetables, and the veggies absorbed a lot of flavor. I always keep tortillas and cheese in my fridge, so no troubles there. It was surprisingly good for a no-recipe, last minute, desperate attempt at a quick dinner, and it was a whole lot better than having cereal. I actually plan to make it again soon because there were no leftovers at all, and it only took me about 15 minutes to do.

Admittedly, two of my five children looked into the pan and said, "Ewww, peppers, gross!" (They got leftover spaghetti.) The other three loved it. Hey, if I can get 60% approval on any recipe, particularly when the other 40% are the ones who won't eat anything anyway, I figure I'm doing pretty well.