freezing

Horseradish and the Fall Garden

November 12, 2009

Horseradish. I have to wonder if it is an old fashioned taste that has lost favor like cold aspic meat jello dishes and fruit salad. No one ever talks about regular old horseradish anymore!

I just LOVE horseradish. Love, love it. In all it’s forms. Oddly enough, as I was getting ready to write this, I was reading my twitter stream where I follow Jaden (@steamykitchen). She just came out with a cookbook, has a beautiful website/blog and is seriously a very nice person. One of very few people on twitter, in fact, who seem genuinely interested in what others have to say vs. screaming their own links and promotions, etc. etc. Frankly, I’m a bit sick of twitter these days. I digress. Sorry.

Horseradish.

Horseradish is a root. Much like Wasabi, the green japanese horseradish powder that is mixed with water and eaten with sushi. Mmmm. That’s where Jaden came in. She posted this picture, that — I swear — looked exactly like a gnarly tomato hornworm past its prime. Along with the picture she wrote: “so overjoyed right now.” Or something like that. I was HORRIFIED. Have you ever SEEN a tomato hornworm?

I have, and it isn’t pretty. I didn’t know insects got that big in Minnesota. They (well at least the ones I’ve seen) are about 4″ long and about 1/2″ in diameter with freakish horns on their heads. Worse, they are almost impossible to see. My first encounter with a hornworm was when I discovered two of my tomato plants had become all but decimated and defoliated overnight. I knew there must be a worm infestation of some kind, but try as I might, I couldn’t find any. My three chickens were in the garden, following at my feet, pecking around and looking for bugs, when suddenly one of them saw something (the giant worm) and plucked it off the stem. I had about five seconds for it to register on my “ick” scale before they had pulled it apart, pecked into pieces, and gulped down the whole thing. (That scene, by the way, was much higher on the ick scale than the worm alone).

Then, as if that memory were not bad enough. Eric, he of @ericgardenfork on twitter, sends me this link to his own experience with tomato hornworms — parasite infested, no less! Ick, Ick, ICK! (It is easy to see how something like twitter can take you down the rabbit hole, eh?)

Sorry, but that was the background I was coming from when I looked at Jaden’s first photo. A deflated and decaying hornworm laying across some packaged produce? Was she just being a sicko?

Mystery solved a few minutes later when she put another picture up with two of these monstrosities side-by-side with the text: Wasabi root! Suffice to say, wasabi root is much uglier than our own locally grown horseradish root. It got me thinking: I wonder if I could make a powder out of my roots that could be mixed with water like wasabi. I will have to research that.

About the plant

It has taken me three years to appreciate what I read over and over about horseradish plants. Specifically, that they are extremely invasive and to plant with caution, much like mint. It was really hard for me to picture horseradish as an invasive plant, having never brushed up against it with any of my gardening friends. No one that I knew ever bemoaned their troublesome horseradish patch. The idea was laughable.

Ha.

Now, I’ve got this ridiculous giantess of a plant sitting right next to my greenhouse door, the spigot and my peonies. In the course of one growing season, it suddenly got taller than me and shaded out even the MINT! Yes, that’s right. The horseradish killed the mint.

Plus, I hear that if even a small chunk of root is left in the ground, you will have yourself a horseradish plant. So far, I’m not in peril, but stay tuned, as I have a hunch I might be the first person I know to bemoan my horseradish patch.

Still. It is a tasty vegetable. At least I think that’s what I read. That it’s a vegetable.

Digging it up was a beast of a job.

I am ashamed to admit I needed Dave’s help. (Rarely do I ask for help, preferring instead to be the perfect gardening, wifely and motherly martyr). I could hardly get my sharp spade throught the plant, much less pry the tenacious roots out of the earth. Even Dave had trouble. Given the health of the monster plant, I wasn’t concerned about hurting it. I just went to town, chopping and prying it out.

For the record, the best time to dig is Fall or late Fall or early, early Spring in Minnesota. Spring always comes and goes too fast here in Minnesota and there’s always so much to do. I’d rather dig in the Fall when I’m processing everything else. Not to mention that, assuming I want it for a-top my corn beef on St. Patrick’s Day, there is little hope for the ground to be thawed in mid March.

Once the root is dug, you can store it in a dark, cool place until you are ready to make the horseradish.

I wonder how long I would be able to leave a plain dug root in my lower garage… Because as much as I like to open a jar and use the stuff I make, even better would be to grate it and eat it fresh, fresh, FRESH! So pungent and hot! I’ll have to look into that when I’m researching the wasabi powder angle…

To make grated horseradish for storage, clean and peel the root. Then, finely grate it. (You will note, due to laziness on my part that I neglected the “finely” part of those directions.)

In these pictures, I first shredded it with the food processor,

Then chopped it up with the food processor blade.

If you love the freshly shredded root, you will like it coarse like I have shown here. However, I have shared some of my finished and jarred horseradish with my dad and a few other people and I am learning that most like it processed a bit finer. Last year, I used a microplane grater because I had so much less to make. That works great for the finer shred. (I, personally, love the coarse shred.)

The fun thing about horseradish is that it isn’t hot until it is exposed to air. I don’t know why I think that is so cool, but I do. So, you begin to grate it. Taste it. Nothing. But wait a few minutes, take a big whif and ZOWIE! That’ll take care of any lingering sinus issues you might have. Grate it in a food processor? Take the lid off? And the kids in the LIVING ROOM will start complaining that the fumes are stinging their eyes. So fun.

Once you get it to the consistency you like, add a healthy dose of salt and enough white vinegar to coat the shreds.

Taste and adjust. Put into glass containers, seal and freeze. Because you are freezing, the amount of vinegar you used is up to you. You can’t heat process this one, sorry. Actually, I’m not sorry at all. I am SICK of canning. I was overJOYED to freeze them.

Conservative worry worts tell you that it will keep for two weeks in the refrigerator. As usual, mine keeps indefinitely.

Tomatoes! Tomatoes! Tomatoes!

October 3, 2009

(And Vomit-Colored Salsa…)

I know, I know. I’m not winning any fans with my title. But it is vomit colored salsa. What can I say?

It tastes just as good as red salsa. Mine just happens to be pinkish-orange because of all the beautiful green and yellow heirloom tomatoes that I use. And for whatever reason, I always seem to have the most of the green ones. They are so delicious and sweet, but when you cook them into sauce? Trust me, it’s a tough sell. Everyone will take a jar of my salsa though, vomit colored or not. So there you go.

I also made a ton of tomato sauce this year. That always seems to be such a ridiculous waste of fresh garden tomatoes, but really, what else can I do with them? I can only give so many away. I still have a crate full…I’ve dried them before and I just really don’t love dried tomatoes all that much. I’ve rough-chopped and frozen them without cooking for chili, soups, etc. It’s easy and works just fine. You tend to get a lot of liquid, but in chili and soup, who cares? I just don’t make that much chili and soup with chunks of tomato. So this year, after making 20 pints of salsa, I made and froze sauce with the remaining tomatoes.

I’ll tell you how to do both.

For Sauce:
For all the tomatoes destined for the sauce pot: cut all the blemishes off and core. Quarter and put into a pot with a tablespoon or two of kosher salt.. Simmer and mash and stir for a couple hours until about an inch of the watery liquid has evaporated off in steam. Either pulse in food processor (tedious) or use an immersion blender in the pot to puree. Then run through a food mill or sieve. Let cool. I use quart-sized freezer bags and put 2 cups into each one. Lay flat on a cookie sheet and freeze.

For Salsa:
This makes about 20 pints.

20 cups tomatoes
8 cups chopped onion
2 chopped green peppers (variable)
10 chopped small to medium hot peppers (variable)
1/3 cup sugar (variable)
4T chili powder (variable)
4T salt (variable)
2.5 cups white vinegar
1/3 cup cornstarch mixed with equal amount of cold water (variable)

Cut of any blemishes, core and roughly peel the tomatoes with a knife. You can do the dip-into-boiling-water-method if you want, but I don’t bother. Ripe garden tomatoes peel pretty easily without that time consuming step. I’ve also skipped peeling them entirely. Salsa was fine, if you don’t mind little strips of skin here and there.

Pulse these in the food processor to the consistency you like. Remember that they will soften further when you cook them. My kids hate chunks. My husband loves chunks. So I don’t worry about it too much since no one is ever happy anyway. I forget what’s next…

OK, I’m back. I had to go get my notes!

Measure the amount of chopped tomatoes as you go and then dump that into a large stock pot. You will need approximately 20 cups of chopped/pureed tomatoes total. I tend to use a little more. More tomatoes won’t hurt the safe canning ratio, because they are acidic. More onions, peppers and cilantro will. Just so you know. You can play around with the recipe — I always do, mostly because I my pepper variety changes year to year — but keep that in mind. If in doubt, add more vinegar at the end.

Chop/pulse a combination of sweet and hot peppers. My mix (above) used about 10 medium sized hot, 4 small and 2 very small sweet green peppers. We like it hot, so I use mostly hot peppers. I take the seeds out of the really hot ones (hungarian yellow, habanero) but leave the rest in. You can do it however you want, just know that the seeds make it a lot hotter.

Add to the peppers 6-10 cloves of peeled garlic. Chop/pulse to desired size and consistency, then add to the stock pot.

Chop/pulse about 3-4 big large onions (enough for 8 cups. you can add less, but not more), add to the stock pot.

Add 2.5 cups of white vinegar. Salt to taste (I used 4 Tablespoons. We like salt.). Grind some pepper to taste. Add 2-4 Tablespoons chili powder. Again, this is personal taste. Start at 2T, taste and add more if you like. I used 4T and it’s tastes highly seasoned. I find that as the jars sit for a while, both the hotness of the peppers and the zip of the seasonings diminish, so I tend not to fear a little overseasoning.

Bring to a simmer and add 1/4 to 1 cup of sugar. Again, personal taste. You can skip the sugar entirely, but I’ve gotta say, if you add just a bit (I use 1/3 cup) people go crazy and don’t know why. Mix 1/3 cup cornstarch* with 1/3 cup cold water and slowly add to salsa pot, stirring often. Simmer for about 30 minutes. In the meantime, sterilize your jars and lids. Right before filling jars, stir in 1/2 to 1 cup of cilantro. Mmmmm. mmmmmm. mmmm. (You either love it or hate it.)

Fill hot jars with hot salsa to 1/2″ from the top. Wipe rims and seal. Process in a hot water bath for 15 minutes.

OK, I’m going to be honest here. The woman who started me on her version of this recipe doesn’t process her jars. She says, as long as they “pop” and “seal” as they cool, it’s fine. Her mom has been doing this for years and years and years…Sooo. Neither do I!! But I can’t condone this sort of behavior from anyone else because the USDA says it’s not safe. You know the USDA, right? The harbingers of truth and wisdom? If it weren’t for the cilantro, I’d process away, but the more you cook cilantro, the less flavor it has, so I just have such a hard time putting those jars with beautiful cilantro in the water bath! It probably wouldn’t matter since, by the time the sauce goes into the jars, the cilantro is cooked anyway… Can you tell I’m having an attack of conscience? Well, no one has died yet. If someone does, I promise to update this post.

Anyway, make sure all the lids seal tight (you can test by lifting the jar by only the lid, not the band. It should stay sealed) Immediately reprocess or refrigerate those that don’t seal.

*Cornstarch is a secret and optional ingredient but recommended for salsa that just barely “sticks to your chip” without being thick and overly cooked. I learned the cornstarch tip from Kristi Kratch and can’t thank her enough from saving me from the watery, insipid salsa I had been making up until then. She adds a lot more to hers (1.5 cups). You can too if you want. She also gets credit for the sugar. She uses way more than me (1.25 cups) and I love her salsa, but Dave made me cut back to where I’m at today (1/3 cup). So play with it. Just keep the ratio of acid (tomatoes and vinegar) to non-acid (peppers, onions, garlic, cilantro).

Also, and this should go without saying, don’t eat ANY jars that have lost their seal or are bulging.

And don’t come crying to me if you kill someone with your kindness. It’s a chance you have to be willing to take.

ONIONS!

October 1, 2009

Ok, I know most gardeners have long since dealt with their onions, since most are ready to harvest in June. In Minnesota, most of us didn’t harvest until July because of the weather. I pulled all mine out in early August, let them air dry outside for a day or two, then put them in our lower garage, which serves as my pseudo root cellar. I have to say, though, August and September don’t really do much for storing root crops. Flipping back through the notebook I keep in my office with all my to-do’s I see that I started writing “Chop Onions” as early as September 2nd. You will be happy to hear that I was finally able to check that off my list… On September 30th.

I would like to share how I deal with my onions.

Maybe it’s just me, but my onions do not keep through the winter. I don’t know if it’s because I am a bad gardener or because I’m a bad store-er. I’m guessing it’s a little of both. Should I cut the tops off before I cure them, or leave them on? Should I let them dry in the sun a day before shuttling them off to the dark depths of the lower garage or let them dry longer? You can find support for just about any variation. Seriously. I’ve researched this. I’m willing to chalk my failures up to variations in circumstances. That rationale has served me well in all areas of life, by the way.

This year was a good onion year, albeit a late one. After harvesting, I leave the tops on, letting them dry for a day in the sun. Then, I put them in a ventilated box (mine is the lid to an old rabbit hutch, the occupants of which I decided would be happier if left to roam the wilds of our 40 acres) and put them in the lower garage, which is dark and cool.

I write “chop onions” on my to do list about a month later. After ignoring that line item for about a month, I decide to “chop onions” on the day that I also have to “make salsa.” It would be easy to continue to ignore “chop onions” except for the fact that I need a lot of chopped onions to “make salsa.” So, the two would seem to go together quite nicely. (“Make Salsa” post coming in the next day or two.)

In the past, I have been totally anal about the chopping of my onions, preferring perfectly diced cubes, which of course requires hand chopping. This year, however, I have decided to cut corners and pulse the onions in the food processor to see if it makes any difference.

First, however, I have to decide which onions to chop and which to store. Since this was a good year for onions, it appears that I have lots I might be able to store for at least a few months. It would be a lot easier just to store them all, but I have to say: grabbing a handful of chopped and frozen onions during the winter for sauteing is a luxury I have learned not to live without. Plus, when I first started growing onions, I learned the hard way that many of the onions start to rot from the center out. That resulted in a lot of wasted onions for me. Now, I am ruthless when it comes to judging whether an onion should be stored or chopped.

If there is any give at all in the stem area of the onion, it goes into the chopping pile:

Sometimes I am right in my assessment:

Sometimes I am wrong:

But this year, I am very happy with my storage pile. It’s always nice to have some back-up onions ready for chopping:

The rest, I peel and quarter and chop.

But either way, let me give you a great tip: USE GOOGLES FOR NO TEAR ONION HANDLING!

Cute, huh?

I actually saw some onion goggles at a kitchen store in Colorado during our Road Warrior trip. They were $24 dollars! Insane, when you can wear these charming specks designed by Speedo.

Anyway, I put the the chopped onions on to cookies sheets in a layer about 1/2″ to 1″ thick. And let me give you another valuable tip: USE WAX PAPER AS A SHEET LINER. I did not, and now I have onion smelling cookie sheets. Morgan made some cookies yesterday that have a very peculiar onion aroma that I can’t say added much to the flavor of the cookies.

I freeze the sheets, and then break into pieces and store in freezer bags.

Once you try this, you will find yourself growing more and more onions. It is an unbelievable time saver.