Friday, December 25, 2015

Jose Cuervo Christmas Cookies

A bit of humor. Found this on the internet.
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Jose Cuervo Christmas Cookies

1 cup of water
1 tsp baking soda
1 cup of sugar
1 tsp salt
1 cup or brown sugar
4 large eggs
1 cup nuts
2 cups of dried fruit
1 bottle Jose Cuervo Tequila

Sample the Cuervo to check quality. Take a large bowl, check the Cuervo again, to be sure it is of the highest quality, pour one level cup and drink.

Turn on the electric mixer. Beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl.

Add one peastoon of sugar. Beat again. At this point it's best to make sure the Cuervo is still ok, try another cup just in case.

Turn off the mixerer thingy.

Break 2 leggs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruit.

Pick the frigging fruit off the floor.

Mix on the turner.

If the fried druit gets stuck in the beaters just pry it loose with a drewscriver.

Sample the Cuervo to check for tonsisticity.

Next, sift two cups of salt, or something. Who geeves a sheet. Check the Jose Cuervo.

Now shift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.

Add one table.

Add a spoon of sugar, or somefink. Whatever you can find.

Greash the oven.

Turn the cake tin 360 degrees and try not to fall over.

Don't forget to beat off the turner.

Finally, throw the bowl through the window, finish the Cose Juervo and make sure to put the stove in the wishdasher.

Cherry Mistmas.

Thursday, December 24, 2015

A really REALLY white Christmas

Well I must say, we're having a seriously white Christmas.


After a number of years of mediocre snowfall, particularly in December, we seem to be making up for it in spades.




For the last few days, it snowed heavily. I took Lydia for a walk during one such dump (it was dusky when I took the photos, so I had the computer automatically adjust the colors, hence the unnatural brightness).




The air was thick with snow.



Matilda and Amy patiently waited to come into the barn.


The next day, wind had whipped the snow into drifts and frozen latches...


...and faucets.


Snow had piled up so high against the back barn door (where I went to check the water tank for the bull pen) that it wasn't worth climbing over. I went around the barn instead.


View from the other side.


After breaking loose the ice on the faucet and filling the tank, I made sure to drain the hose or it would freeze solid.


I also looped the end of the hose through the faucet so we could find it again.


Barn chores don't cease in bad weather.


Don made sure he was suitable attired.


Lots of quail this time of year.



Snow everywhere.


Sunset on the winter solstice, shortest day of the year. Hard to believe days will be lengthening after this.


By the 23rd, the snow and wind had whipped up drifts like crazy. Cows that refused to seek shelter under the awning looked, well, snowy.


The back faucet was almost buried under drifts.


Normally this wouldn't be a big deal, except for one very critical thing: Older Daughter was flying in from New Jersey and we had to get to the airport in Spokane. Thank God for our new (old) Durango -- it blasted through the drifts and made it to the highway.


The airport was festively decorated. I'm grateful to the personnel who work so hard during this time of year to bring our loved ones home to family.


Ditto to emergency responders to take care of fender-benders and slide-offs.


Heading back in to our place, the paved portion of the road was drifting over again from the whipping wind.


But neighbors joined to clear the dirt road -- or we literally would not have made it back home (by vehicle, that is).


As you can imagine, Lydia was beside herself with joy upon seeing Older Daughter...



...and in no time flat made herself at home on her bed.


So our family is together again for this very, very white Christmas. Best possible gift for all of us!

Tuesday, December 22, 2015

Making tomato sauce

We butchered four animals last Monday, so I was tasked with cleaning out one of the chest freezers in anticipation of the estimated 1400 lbs. of meat which will be returning (and which, fortunately, we're not all keeping).

One of the items to clean out was the bags of frozen tomato purée I had saved up from the garden's bounty over the summer.


I wanted to turn the tomato purée into tomato sauce. I'd never done this before (mostly because prior to this I'd never had such beautiful purée, thanks to the use of a food strainer), so this was new territory for me.

The basic premise in making tomato sauce is to get rid of a lot of the water which occurs naturally in the purée by cooking it off (some people "bake" it out by baking purée in an oven at low temps). Since we had the wood cookstove going anyway, I simply nested two large pots and set them on the stove. I fit about half the frozen purée into the inside pot.


The idea behind nesting the pots is to make a double boiler. The outer pot is filled with enough water to surround the inner pot, up to the level of the contents. The water boils, which heats the contents of the inner pot but doesn't burn it. I've burned enough stuff in my career to welcome the gentle, consistent heat of a double boiler setup.


The rest of the frozen purée I put in large bowls on the table to defrost.


All night long the purée sat on the cookstove, slowly defrosting and then heating. It stayed thin and runny and I despaired of ever making sauce.


In fact, it stayed on the cookstove for three days (as in, 72 straight hours). Periodically I added water to the outer pot (so it wouldn't boil dry) and wondered if I was wasting my time.

And then something magical happened: it cooked down into the most beautiful smooth tomato sauce you ever saw. Somehow I couldn't believe it, but it was true.

Meanwhile, the frozen bagged purée I had put in bowls to defrost had one beneficial side effect I hadn't anticipated: a lot of the watery portions leaked out of the bags, leaving the more solid portions inside. I simply poured off the watery leakage.


When it came time to take the first batch off the stove and put this second batch on, it cooked down much faster. I'll do this with all of it next time. Live and learn!

By the time I was done, the sauce was magnificent.


At this point I could have flavored the sauce any number of ways, but I didn't for two reasons: One, I wanted the sauce to be suitable as a foundation for any number of dishes, so bland is best; and two, adding additional ingredients (onions, peppers, mushrooms, etc.) would mean I would have to pressure-can it instead of water-bath can it. So I kept it plain.

Time to can. I washed the jars...


...and ladled in the sauce. It came to 21 pints.


See how beautiful it is? Like jars of rubies. I'm always tickled when a new project works.


Before canning the sauce, I added a tablespoon of vinegar to each jar as an acidifier. Modern tomatoes, even "heirloom" or non-hybrid, have a lot less acid than their ancestral forebears. It never hurts to add a bit more acid just to play it safe.


I was too cowardly, however, to do the actual canning on the wood cookstove (another frontier I will have to conquer at some point). I canned it on the propane stove.

Now that I understand how to make sauce from purée, I will probably sauce the vast majority of tomatoes I get in the garden next year. Nothing beats having sauce on hand for any number of pasta dishes, casseroles, soups, etc.

Monday, December 21, 2015

Feathers and fur

Lately I've been seeing a single Steller's jay hanging around.



Of the crow family, magpies are the most common around here. Once in a blue moon I'll notice a flock of gray jays flit about, and of course crows and ravens are common, but jays? Less so.


He was very bold and came quite close.



He actively pecked at this piece of frozen manure. I don't know if he found seeds or frozen larvae or something, but it certainly kept his attention for ten or fifteen minutes.





Less welcome was the sight of a coyote across the field from us.



We've all lost chickens to coyotes, and no one bears much love for them.


While there is a always thrill at seeing furred wildlife...


...nonetheless I waited until he was good and gone before I let the chickens out of their coop.