Max and the Beanstalks

Our friend, Max, has spent a lot of time with his hands in the dirt. That is, when he wasn’t a student athlete, coach, husband, father, and Athletic Director for two universities in the mid-western United States. Since retiring [as AD] from Kansas State University, Max keeps an active hand as consultant and mentor to athletes, coaches and directors. He is a man who is wired to pay it forward by giving back to his profession as well as devoting boundless time and energy to his family and friend relationships.

Max also likes to get his hands a little dirty–by tending the soil.

IMG_7959

the hands of max

He grew up in Troy, Ohio in a family of three boys. Every spring his parents planted a large “truck garden” outside of town. A truck garden is larger than a backyard or “kitchen” garden. A pick-up truck is often used to haul things back and forth to the plotted site. His parents worked the fertile Ohio soil without motorized equipment, using only hand tools. Each summer they grew the fruit and vegetables their growing family would eat for a year.

From an early age, Max played alongside the garden patch as his parents worked. He learned the rituals of tilling, planting, weeding and harvesting. It became natural–this annual cycle of producing fresh food with your own hands. And feeding people you love from the harvest.

He carried the tradition into adulthood while raising a family and growing his career. Certain veggies are a mainstay. He always plants asparagus, beets, cucumber, green beans, leaf lettuce, onions, potatoes, spinach, tomatoes, and zucchini squash. He sometimes plants bell peppers, hot peppers, garlic, peas, or yellow squash.

IMG_1749

We are among the fortunate beneficiaries of the abundance that grows from Max’s hands and heart, in the friendship he shares with us. Visiting his home in Kansas or when he and his wife drive to our cabin in Colorado there is always a gift…fresh and delicious from the garden.

Two summers ago, Max brought something different. Green beans in a jar, packed in seasoned brine. It was a new thing–pickling the extra beans from a bountiful harvest.

IMG_4552

Admittedly, at first glance, these beans deserved some skepticism–pale and limp in liquid–I wasn’t sure whether I could even try them. That’s because I grew up in a household that served beans only from cans. At the family dinner table, my learned behavior was to move them as quickly as possible from mouth to paper napkin to garbage can.

Max’s proffered jars were placed in the cupboard and overlooked until later in the summer. I finally took one as a dinner hostess gift to a neighbor on our mountain hillside. She called me a few days later and RAVED about the pickled beans. She said they were BETTER than any other kind of pickle, especially for hamburgers. Did I have more jars to share?

Our daughter came to visit. She likes almost everything and is creative about ways to present food. I cracked open a jar of pickled beans and added them to a tray of small bites to have with drinks. At her suggestion, we placed them in icy martinis to sip on the shaded front porch.

I tried my own hand at pickling beans purchased from the local farmer’s market. It was a little trickier at the higher altitude of the Colorado Rockies, [see notes for high altitude processing at end] but they turned out fine. Now I’m hooked.

This summer I drove back for a lesson from the source–Max’s plot of land in the Manhattan, Kansas Community Garden. We rose early, Max, Lynn and I, to pick beans before heat, humidity, and biting insects overtook us.

IMG_7957

Max and his beanstalks

IMG_7965

morning produce

In the afternoon, we pickled our harvest from start to finish, ending the day with wine and unwind time–featuring, you guessed it, pickled beans.

IMG_7999

wine and unwind time starring beans, etc.

Our Latvian daughter-in-law comes from Russian heritage that pickles any and all kinds of vegetables. Current nutritional trends suggest that fermented or pickled food should be included daily in healthy diets. Preserving food this way is an easy activity to do at home. Everyone reaps benefits.

Pickled beans can be eaten as a low calorie snack or as a garnish to any food where pickles are used [Barbara’s hamburgers!]. They can be added to drinks such as Bloody Marys or vodka martinis. Let the beans stand as green centerpiece to a tray of rainbow colored hors d’oeuvres. They make a unique and perfect homemade gift to a friend, tied with a ribbon and a sprig of herbs.

Max–here’s to you. May you keep your hands in fertile soil and your beans in brine.

IMG_8007

max and lynn urick

MAX’S PICKLED GREEN BEANS–Makes 4 Pints

INGREDIENTS:

IMG_4496

green beans washed and sorted by size

IMG_4504

pickling salt, spices, vinegar, garlic, fresh dill

  • 2 pounds green beans–washed, trimmed and sorted by size
  • ½-1 tsp cayenne pepper [optional, if you like a bit of spice]
  • 4 heads fresh dill weed or 4 tsp dill seed
  • 4 cloves garlic, peeled
  • 2 ½ C. water
  • 2 ½ C. 5% white vinegar
  • ¼ C. pickling salt
  • 4 tsp pickling spices

METHOD:

  1. Sterilize pint sized canning jars and lids by boiling for a short time in a water bath. Place lids first in bottom of pot to keep jars off the bottom.
  2. Tightly pack same-sized beans, lengthwise, into sterilized jars, leaving ½ inch of headspace. [Stem end goes on top [Max style], unless you trim both ends of beans, which I like to do.]
  3. Make pickling solution by combining the vinegar, water, salt and pickling spices. Bring to a boil.
  4. Pour hot liquid over beans, leaving ½ inch headspace.
  5. Place one clove garlic, fresh dill weed or dill seed on top of beans before sealing lids. [Can also garnish with a strip of red bell pepper or red onion.]
  6. Remove air bubbles. Wipe jar rims. Adjust lids securely but not overly tight.
  7. Process in boiling water bath for 5 minutes. Water should cover jars by 1-2 inches.

    IMG_7981

    water bath boil, cover jars by 1-2 inches

  8. Remove from water and set upright on countertop.

    IMG_7982

    canning tongs to remove from preserving bath

  9. Each jar will have a small rounded dome in the center of the lid. After 15 minutes of cooling time, there is an audible “Ping” sound as the dome depresses and the jar becomes sealed.

    IMG_7988

    domed jar in front, before “ping”, sealed jar behind, post-ping

  10. Let beans stand at room temperature for at least two weeks to allow flavors to develop. Refrigerate after opening.

VARIATIONS FOR HIGH ALTITUDE WATER BATH PROCESSING

If you are preserving at an altitude higher than 1000 feet above sea level, you need to adjust processing time as indicated in the chart below.

Altitude in Feet                    Processing Time [Increased by Minutes]

  • 1001-3000                                           +5 minutes
  • 3001-6000                                         +10 minutes
  • 6001-8000                                         +15 minutes
  • 8001-10,000                                       +20 minutes

After removing from water bath, leave undisturbed on countertop for 12-24 hours. Then check jar lids for sealing. They should not flex up and down when the center is pressed. If the lid does not seal in 24 hours, product can be immediately reprocessed or refrigerated.

Wendy Hack #2: Relishing the Radish

It’s time to introduce a new hack, as in a shortcut or tip. Consider the radish–eaten in a certain way, as a starter course, particularly at lunchtime. [see previous hack here: Wendy Hack #1: Making Perfect Rice]

Shortly after moving to Paris we were invited to a long Sunday lunch, “style familial”, [family style] in the apartment of my husband’s administrative assistant. Traditional to such gatherings, there was a mixture of ages from toddlers to grandparents around the large dining table. There was a casual centerpiece of low flowers, printed cloth napkins and tablecloth, baskets of chewy baguette slices, small dishes of butter, and, of course, there was wine.

The unexpected was that a small plate of elongated red radishes with short green stems was already at each place setting. Also on the plate was a little pyramid of sea salt. After sitting down, our hostess said, “I will show you one way to eat radishes in France.”

IMG_7113

She picked up a radish in one hand and a butter knife with the other. She smeared good French butter on the surface and, with her fingers, sprinkled sea salt over it all. She bit into the radish down to the stem.

IMG_7120

IMG_7116

That was the first course of our first French family lunch.

Recently, a former Paris friend [who is American] was back for a visit and came to lunch “chez moi”. I planned to serve a small casserole of “Latvian Lasagna” that I had already made. [More on this counterintuitive recipe in a future story.] I wanted a different kind of starter than plain old green salad. Early spring radish season was in full swing so that became the plan.

The great thing about French radishes is that they have no harsh “bite” or spicy bitterness to them. Sometimes radishes in the U.S. seem to leave a coating on your tongue that takes forever to wear off. The French ones are simply a beautiful mouthful of sweetness,  crunch and moisture. Combined with creamy butter from those Norman-grass-eating cows and salt crystals from the sea, a single red radish becomes the perfect trilogy of taste and surprising satisfaction.

IMG_7118

My friend delighted over the surprisingly subtle combination of butter and radishes. She had forgotten how refreshing they were to eat. And how easy to prepare.

Another way to serve radishes is with homemade guacamole–simply mashed avocado, minced red onion, salt, pepper, and lime juice. Step by step recipe here: Sipping Avocado Margs in Summer

IMG_7307

IMG_7312

radishes and guacamole with other tasty things for a wine and unwind party

Buttered radishes would be an inspired idea to try anywhere else in the world–outside of France. You can’t call something so well known here as “inspired”, unless you are a foreigner. So, wherever you are, tantalize your guests’ taste buds in an unexpected way, wow them with a “new” starter combination, and save yourself the effort of making a whole salad. But if you do serve salad, remember to make your own vinaigrette, as told here: Babies and Rice So Very Nice

Happy Mothers’ Day and tell Mom to eat her radishes!

IMG_5097

french radishes in farmer’s market, laguna beach, california

Kindle Some Candlelight

IMG_3077 IMG_3966 IMG_3968

I’m obsessed with flames. Growing up in a family with fire-making and fire-tending rituals, I come by this naturally. Wherever we lived, when the outside temperature dropped, it was time to lay wood in the fireplace and watch it burn. Now I live in a Parisian apartment with seven fireplaces. All of them literally sealed shut. In the dark winter months, there is only one alternative. Between four and five in the afternoon, as the sun is waning, I start lighting candles, room by room.

IMG_3081

or group impact

IMG_3074

single

Recently, it became apparent that this is not a tradition others follow as consistently as I do. On a late December afternoon, earlier this month, my friend Lesli invited a group of women for “wine and unwind” time. This is when we gather in someone’s home, open a bottle of something and see what conversational banter arises.

On this occasion, we met at her apartment. Which happens to be furnished with a spectacular crystal chandelier from another century. While studying it admiringly, I noticed it was not electrified. It was outfitted with white candles. They had never been lit since Lesli moved in, three years before. She needed little encouragement to change this. With partially burned candles already in place, I climbed on a chair and broke off the blackened wicks before re-lighting them. Once in full glow, this antique beauty became a Versailles-worthy candelabra. Although no “ugly duckling” before, it transformed into a stunning swan.

IMG_9755

IMG_9754

candelabra transformation, chez Lesli

She also had six or eight candles in heavy glass jars from the crème de la crème candle store, Cire Trudon. This is the oldest and most prestigious wax manufacturer, since 1643. The wicks were deeply buried in hardened wax having not been lit in a long time. It took some digging and trimming, but those, too, were put into active use. Soon the living room was ablaze with candlelight, bubbling “coupes de champagne”, and good conversation among friends.

IMG_3176

trimmed and untrimmed wick lengths

It’s one thing to describe creating ambient light and warmth with candles. The truth is, for many people they are messy and off putting except on special occasions. This is easily remedied by a bit of maintenance know-how. For anyone inclined to light up the night with candlelight, here is the most basic tutorial, as requested by a few friends in France.

  • ALWAYS trim the wick before relighting a candle. It will break off in your fingers at the perfect starting point. Otherwise, over time, the smoke from a too-long wick blackens walls, ceilings and pollutes the room.
  • Prevent excessive dripping messes by keeping lit candles out of drafts. This seems obvious, but it’s really important to be aware of changing air currents wherever candles are burning. For safety reasons as well as dripping.
  • If you light a LOT of candles, it’s better to use a candlesnuffer for extinguishing rather than blowing them out. This dramatically reduces smoke pollution and spraying wax on walls and horizontal surfaces.
  • IMG_3105

    use candlesnuffer by

    IMG_3107

    covering and holding 5-8 seconds

    IMG_3109

    voilà! no smoking candle

    Whether you engage in regular candle usage or not, there is other interesting etiquette to know.

  • Never display new candles [taper or column] in their holders with white wicks. If you leave them unburned, it looks like they belong in a store rather than in your home. All wicks should be blackened, by lighting them briefly, even if not using the candle right away. [I make an exception with votive candles because they are small and often in containers that don’t show their wicks. I also have a lot of them. A purist would say to blacken those too.]

    IMG_3112

    a pair of votive monks

  • Don’t burn candles during the daylight. Candles are for darkness only—morning or evening. Breakfast before sun-up with candlelight is a mellow way to start the day. Evening is natural timing. A candle lit bath can be a regular luxury.

    IMG_3062

    breakfast candles with flea market match holder

  • When a drippy mess occurs, as it will, consider it part of the experience. A spatula easily scrapes wax from hard surfaces. Hot water does the rest, melting it away.
  • As column-shaped candles burn, empty the wax pool [while it is still liquid] right after extinguishing. As it burns deeper into the column, occasionally trim off the top to make it even with the wick. Use a cutting board and a large knife. This prolongs a natural burning life until it becomes a stump, ready to discard.
IMG_3124

living room candelabra, paris

IMG_3213

best of both, electricity and candlepower, colorado cabin

I can’t explain how fire and candle lore came to be so second nature to me. But, I do believe that our “indoor lives” are  enhanced with strategic candlelight. It’s a personal and creative choice as to the selection of candle holders, shapes, and colors. Almost any non-flammable container will hold some type of candle. Oil lamp candlelight is a good low maintenance option.

IMG_3090

mixing regular and oil burning candlelight

IMG_3159

colorado coffee table

IMG_3956

shadow play

So light a candle or two at home tonight. Enjoy a few flickering flames with family or friends. After all, ‘tis the season.

IMG_3237

santa says ho ho ho & hippobirdday dar

For premier candles: http://www.ciretrudon.com

Cire Trudon USA, Inc. 358 Fifth Ave., Suite 901 NY, NY 10001

In France: 78, rue de Seine 75006 Paris

My Market Street

IMG_2656

When our son made his first trip to Paris in 2008, he wryly observed that the city seems to be founded on the notion to stop, have a drink, and talk with someone every 50-100 feet. It’s true that café culture is built into centuries of French history. Within almost any radius of where you stop walking, a “sit down” opportunity presents itself. Locals find a favorite café in their neighborhood or “quartier”. Here, you take a load off your feet, eat, drink, talk, muse, or hang out. It’s also the best entertainment around.

I told one of my French neighbors about my ritual at a particular café on our market street. She nodded and said it’s simply the establishment of my “poste d’observation”. Now that’s what I tell my husband when he calls wondering where I am. I’m involved in an activity of great importance–assessing the cast of characters on any given day. When he can, he hurries home to join me.

IMG_2314

entrance to market street, cast of characters assembled

IMG_2658

the ritual begins here

IMG_2269

Of course, there are market streets all over Paris—open markets, covered markets, farmers’ markets, daily markets, bi-weekly markets, organic markets. But the most important one is the one closest to where you live.

I venture to market street in late afternoon to see what looks delicious to buy for our evening meal. If, by chance, there is an empty sidewalk café table, I take it as a sign that I must sit down for a moment or two. In good weather, I count 11 businesses with sidewalk tables on this narrow street. For my musing and entertainment, I have pledged allegiance to only one. It’s on the corner, where all the action begins.

IMG_2121

There is a children’s book by Arnold Lobel called On Market Street. It tells the story of a little boy enticed by shopping on a particular street. He buys everything from A to Z, then trudges home carrying it all. This is my experience, too, because on this small pedestrian street is just about everything I want or need.

IMG_2663

chickens roast, flowers bloom

IMG_1506

Butchers, boulangeries, fish market, patisseries, florists, cheese purveyors, dry cleaners, books, jewelry, fruit and vegetable vendors, grocery stores, crepes, sushi, caviar, oysters, Italian-made pizza, middle eastern food, tiny cafés and restaurants, coffee, tea and chocolate shop, wine, champagne and liquor, Italian and Greek delicatessens, candles, household decorations, and a pharmacy.

IMG_2676

pastry art

IMG_2678

Before opening my wallet for the day’s necessities, I settle contentedly into an empty chair. Greetings are exchanged with the server. I order a glass of wine. This varies by the season or time of day. On a warm day, Côtes de Provence rosé is standard. In cooler temperatures, a red Bordeaux is cozier under the overhead heaters. Every beverage comes with a savory nibble on the side. Something salty and always slightly stale. Homemade potato chips are the standard limp offerings. Sometimes a tiny glass of pretzels fills in. It’s what I expect and is always perfect.

IMG_2109

standing order: rosé de provence

The tables on either side of mine are occupied. On the left—a couple moves seamlessly from kissing, to smoking, to drinking beer. On the right—two women of a certain age share a crepe sucré. One has coffee, the other sips beer. I give them only a cursory glance because my gaze is focused on the cobbled path in front of me. This is where the rest of the world strolls by.

The best times at my café are weekdays in the late afternoon or early evening. Sunday morning is also a perfect time to make important observations. The parade is constant. It requires my full attention. It never disappoints.

Sometimes I’m absorbed by the range of footwear–spiky heels, stylish boots, flip-flops, sandals, platform shoes, sneakers, orthopaedic shoes, even chic Italian shoes on a man with crutches.

 

 

Shoppers use rolling carts called “chariots” to hold heavy purchases. They carry armfuls of baguettes.

Or they may be laden with flowers, wine, fruits and vegetables, roasted chickens, oysters or prepared food from the “traiteurs”. On Sundays, a cacophony of sound permeates the air. Parisians are picking up ingredients for afternoon lunch “en famille”. Vendors hawk produce, servers rattle glasses and silverware, babies cry, friends greet each other with kisses, dogs bark and fight, children laugh and run around, music plays. And always, people talk, talk, talk over everything.

IMG_3736 (1)

The sweetest sights drifting by are small children and dogs, completely at home in the hubbub.

 

IMG_3764

Sometimes I notice someone watching me watching them. The ritual is recognized. Smiles are exchanged. The parade glides by.

As the wine and stale chips dwindle, I move on to the shops and my own errands.

IMG_2145

time to go

Trudging homeward with arms laden, I pass my “poste”. Someone else is sitting in the chair I occupied–watching me as I walk by…

 

 

 On Market Street by Arnold Lobel, illustrations by Anita Lobel

“The merchants down on Market Street were opening their doors. I stepped along that Market Street, I stopped at all the stores. Such wonders there on Market Street! So much to catch my eye! I strolled the length of Market Street to see what I might buy…

My arms were full on Market Street, I could not carry more. As darkness fell on Market Street, my feet were tired and sore. But I was glad on Market Street, these coins I brought to spend, I spent them all on Market Street…

On presents for a friend.”

IMG_2735

illustration by Anita Lobel from “On Market Street”