Tag: Cook

Rekindling the Fires: How We Gather and Celebrate for Yule

Rekindling the Fires: How We Gather and Celebrate for Yule

by Catherine Harper

I am a person much concerned with the rituals of hearth and home, and in general I am more likely to mark the turnings of the year in my kitchen or garden, or alone in the woods, than I am in larger gatherings. But even this preference aside, Yule seems to me a holiday that focuses around these intimate spaces. In the face of the darkest time of the year, who we share our table with is especially important. If sunlight brightens the whole community, away from the sun one can pick those who are each of our chosen families by candlelight. Winter, to me, breeds a love of small spaces.

Reaching for this sense of family and continuity is a challenge for the many of us who are first-generation pagans. I know that I want to be able to reach back to my own memories of being a child and find something there that I can bring forward to give to the children in my life. But this can be almost an archaeological challenge, finding amid so much past the right pieces, bringing them to the surface, cleaning them and restoring them to some kind of meaning.

I have a vague fondness still for stockings, but no context from which to hang them, and the woman who knitted the stockings I once loved is dead and gone. That memory I can love and yet watch recede into the distance.

I remember the candles on a tree in the yard of one of my dearest childhood friends that, starting with the youngest child, we would each light in turn on the eve of the winter solstice, singing carols into the night.

I love and remember the smell of a fresh fir tree brought inside, but equally I remember being seven and in tears faced with that same tree two weeks later that had died and dried and lost its needles. And mixed in with my childhood memories of yearning for lights and magic are my adult wishes for fewer malls, a different sort of family and a clear line of demarcation drawn between what I do and what is so nationally celebrated as Christmas.

Out of these conflicting needs has come our own synthesis. I don’t pretend that the answers that our dialog with the past has produced extend to anything beyond our own threshold. We don’t bring in a tree, though that ritual is as pagan as it comes. We do exchange presents and stay up all night and party and play and keep a light going through all the long hours of darkness. At midnight, everyone gathers in front of the fire and feeds it with tokens of things they are glad to have seen the last of, accompanied by explanations and applause. (A ritual that started more or less by accident but has grown and continued until it has developed such momentum I suspect I will never see the end of it.) We make candles. We eat soup, bread and little sandwiches, and trays of cakes, cookies and fruit tarts.

In the last several years, these gatherings have begun to set fruit. When they started, we were college students and young adults, mostly. Now, we are overrun by children, competing among each other to dip candles thicker than their own wrists, gorging on sweets, playing tournament mancala, helping grind flour, swimming laps in the hot tub and staying up far past their accustomed bedtimes.

My senses of past and present are becoming satisfied. Bit by bit, out of the flotsam from our childhoods, from the chance occurrences that recurred and became tradition, from literature, from history, from the stories we have imagined for ourselves, we are building something solid, something that returns and carries us along with it, something that we will pass on.

(To people who will doubtless prune it into a shape they find pleasing. There is no point in being too attached to any particular notions for the future….)

Meanwhile, for me Yule will smell like fir and beeswax and taste like cinnamon. In this land of evergreens, it is natural to bring in a little greenery when so much else has died away. In a time of darkness, of course we make a fuss over light and warmth. And when there is so little in season for the table but we need the extra nourishment to stave away the cold, our celebratory food is rich with saved eggs and butter, and spiced to overcome the monotony of the winter stores. And in 15 years, or 20, if the gods be kind, a nephew, or niece, or godson (or child?) will call me from another city where they have gone to work or to school and say “That cake, you remember? You used to make it on longest night? Do you still have the recipe?”

Gingerbread

This is simply the best gingerbread in the world. The recipe is not original with me, but it has changed more than a bit in my keeping and may in yours as well.

  • 1/4 cup butter
  • 1/4 cup sugar
  • 1/2 cup molasses
  • 1 teaspoon ginger
  • 1 teaspoon cinnamon
  • 1/4 teaspoon cloves
  • 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
  • 3/4 very hot water
  • 1 1/4 cup flour
  • 1 egg
  • 1 teaspoon baking powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon baking soda

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Butter and flour your baking pan. (I use a 9-inch round pan, but a pair of loaf pans also works well.)

Cream together the butter and sugar. Add the molasses. (It is very efficient if you pour the hot water in the same measuring cup you just poured the molasses out of — it will dissolve the molasses residue and save you time.) Add spices. Alternately, add a bit of the hot water and a bit of the flour until both are thoroughly blended. Beat in the egg, and then quickly whisk in the baking powder and soda. Now quickly, before you lose any rise from your leavening, pour the batter into your pan and pop it in the oven. Cook for about half an hour, or until the middle is firm.

Moldable Shortbread

When I was young, I found a variant on this recipe and used it to make cookies in the shapes of fruit, stippling little balls of orange-colored dough to give them the texture of citrus peel, piercing them with a clove to make a blossom end, painting a blush on the surface of peaches and so forth, rather in the manner of marzipan. But the dough can be made into almost any form, as long as it is mostly flat. You can think of it as an edible, cookable play-dough. Don’t be timid with the food color — bright colors make it much more fun.

  • 1 part sugar
  • 2 parts butter
  • Flavoring to taste
  • 5 parts flour
  • Food coloring

Cream together the butter and sugar, add flavoring if desired and then blend in flour. (If your one part is equal to half a cup, you can use &fraq12; to 1 teaspoon vanilla extract, or a bit less almond extract, a bit more Grand Marnier, a teaspoon of citrus zest, a couple of tablespoons of minced candied ginger or whatever suits your fancy.)

Divide the dough into sections and add a different color of food coloring to each one, mixing it in first with a fork and then with your fingers. Form each color into a ball, wrap with plastic and refrigerate for at least an hour.

When it is chilled, form it into whatever shapes you — or your children — like. Bake at 325 for 20 to 30 minutes. If the dough becomes hot and sticky while it is being worked, just stick the cookies into the refrigerator to chill before you bake them. As long as they are cold when they hit the oven, the texture will be fine.

T’was the night of Thanksgiving


Thanksgiving Comments & Graphics

T’was the night of Thanksgiving,
But I just couldn’t sleep.
I tried counting backwards,
I tried counting sheep.
The leftovers beckoned,
The dark meat and white.
But I fought the temptation,
With all of my might.
Tossing and turning,
with anticipation.
The thought of a snack
became infatuation.
So I raced to the kitchen,
Flung open the door,
And gazed at the fridge,
Full of goodies galore.
I gobbled up turkey,
And buttered potatoes,
Pickles and carrots,
Beans and tomatoes.
I felt myself swelling,
So plump and so round.
‘til all of a sudden,
I rose off the ground.
I crashed through the ceiling,
Floating into the sky,
With a mouthful of pudding,
And a handful of pie.
But I managed to yell
As I soared past the trees
Happy eating to all,
Pass the cranberries, please!!
May your stuffing be tasty
May your turkey be plump.
May your potatoes and gravy
Have nary a lump.
May your yams be delicious,
May your pies take the prize
And May your Thanksgiving dinner
Stay off of your thighs!
by Lauren

Thanksgiving Day Poems

Magickal Graphics

Healthy Recipes for Your Thanksgiving Leftovers

Healthy Recipes for Your Thanksgiving Leftovers

  • posted by Brandi, selected from Diets in Review

The day after Thanksgiving, aka Black Friday, is practically a food holiday too considering refrigerators across the country are still bursting with leftover stuffing, mashed potatoes and plenty of turkey. If you’re trying to lose weight or maintain your size this holiday season, indulging in seconds and thirds of your favorite holiday dishes can really derail your efforts. As if one 3,000-calorie Thanksgiving meal wasn’t enough!

We don’t want that food to go to waste any more than you do, so here are some ideas to break up the monotony of that roasted turkey without turning a one-day calorie fest into a weekend smorgasbord.

Turkey Quesadillas: Typically we think of quesadillas being filled with cheese, which equates to fat and calories. Try putting a healthy spin on quesadillas and top them with fresh salsa, which has practically no calories.

Hot Turkey Club Sandwich: After an indulgent dinner like Thanksgiving, keeping your diet simple the next day is the easiest way to stay on track. Prepare a simple club sandwich by layering roasted turkey, tomato, spinach leaves or romaine lettuce, and a smear of guacamole or avocados (instead of mayo) on two slices of whole grain bread.

Turkey Waldorf Salad: Instead of a rich, turkey salad laden with mayonnaise and calories, opt for a lighter version of Waldorf salad. Add leftover apples, raisins, and walnuts for a satisfying crunch.

Turkey Apple Pita: Instead of grazing aimlessly during your Black Friday lunch, add roasted turkey to a whole wheat pita topped with apple slices and your favorite vegetables for a little savory and sweet flavor.

Red Beans and Rice: Let simmer all day and then serve a piping hot bowl of this New Orleans favorite while you watch football. Add any leftover roasted turkey for a leaner addition than the traditional andouille sausage.

Of course, turkey isn’t the only thing left in the fridge. Here are a few other ideas for cleaning out without pigging out.

  • Cranberries. Add a tablespoon of fresh cranberry salad to a plain, honey, or vanilla-flavored Greek yogurt for a sweet way to start your morning. If you have leftover pumpkin pie filling you can do the same with it.
  • Stuffing. Put leftover stuffing inside acorn squash or bell peppers and bake for a simple and healthy dinner.
  • Vegetables. Any leftover green beans, carrots, celery, onions, or other vegetables should be saved while you’re preparing the meal. Toss it all in a stock pot, cover with water, season with salt and pepper, and let simmer on low for several hours. Then strain the liquid off and you’ve got a homemade vegetarian broth.
  • Potatoes. Use any remaining roasted red or sweet potatoes to make a delicious side with an omelet. Heat a skillet, mist with cooking spray, and cook until warm and slightly browned.

ANNOYING NEIGHBORS

ANNOYING NEIGHBORS

Best time to cast this spell: sunset on the eve of a New Moon
–A yellow candle a teaspoon of salt half a cup of Olive oil
–a chicken feather (you should gather feathers in a non-harmful manner)
The spell: gather up your ingredients and go to a quiet area in your home where you can be alone.
Light the candle and put the salt into the cup of Olive oil. Pick up the feather and repeat these words:
Cauda Draconis (or a deity you choose to work with)
Help me in my time of need
I want (the person’s name here) to move away from me,
In good health let them be their possessions – let them keep
Let wheels begin to help them to move away from me.
This is my will – So Mote It BE!
Dip the feather into the olive oil and soon as you are able – wipe the feather on the ground
in front of your house and near the neighbor’s house (make sure no one sees you!)

Feng Shui Tip of the Day for November 3rd

A plethora of energies intertwine to allow me to offer some magically delicious advice today. First, it’s ‘National Men Make Dinner Day’ and ‘Sandwich Day,’ so maybe you can smell what I’m cooking up here. I thought I might offer a recipe for a Yam and Acorn Squash soup that’s not only easy to make but tasty as well. But let’s start with the magical promise of my original premise. Legend tells that the acorn squash got its name because of its similarity in appearance to actual acorns. There is a myth about the acorn people who live in the ancient oak tree. It says that everyone in this magical community from the ages of five to sixty-five wears a watch the flashes one word: now. Each acorn person has a unique and special gift to bring to the world, and they love unconditionally. Therefore, they have scattered their acorns to the winds in the hopes of bringing their unconditional love to the entire world. And love is the main ingredient of this lovely acorn squash soup. Heat some vegetable oil in a large saucepan over medium heat and add one large chopped onion. Sautee until golden and add five cups peeled and cubed yams and one small peeled and cubed acorn squash. Add two cups of chicken broth, decrease the heat and simmer for thirty minutes. Let cool and place the mix in a blender with a half-cup of plain yogurt. Blend until smooth. Return the blend to the saucepan and add two tablespoons pumpkin seeds and a quarter cup of whole milk. Stir and season with salt and pepper to taste. Forget about that old sandwich and make this soup to the strains of delight! They’ll love you for it!

By Ellen Whitehurst for Astrology.com

To Brew a Cauldron of Roots and Bones

To Brew a Cauldron of Roots and Bones

by Catherine Harper

When the year turns, the earth is less gentle, and the outdoors is no longer safe. The soft green woods of summer are now stripped bare and home to winds and rain. For light and warmth, we must retreat inside, even in the gentle clime of Puget Sound, where we are sheltered by the mountains and the extremities of season are kept at bay by the vast thermal mass of the ocean.

All at once, it seems, it is autumn, and past the drawn-out golden harvest and into the dark days and rain. There may be a few peppers and tomatoes left to us, but the season has turned from fruit to fallow. For the gardener, there are a few hardy greens, the squash lying amidst their shriveling vines and the late apples. For the forager, there are a few roots and the cool-weather fruiting of mushrooms. But the focus has changed from the fields and orchards to the kitchens, pantries and root cellars, from what is fresh to what can be saved for later use.

After the extravagance of the autumn harvest, it is a good time to contemplate the dark season. All that is left of the corn are the stalks in the field; in the orchard, the branches are bare. The supermarkets bring us strange and often illusory delights from far distant lands (yes, one can have hothouse strawberries in winter, or bland and mealy fruits picked too early and ripened far from their trees, but do the limp imitations you may purchase feed your body any better than they do your soul?). But you still may take a step back and look at the land around you, and recall both to the mind and table the humble foods that are still with us.

Consider, then, the onion.

The origins of onions are hidden back in the misty recesses of antiquity. There are wild onions known and enjoyed throughout the world, and by the time the pyramids were built the onion was widely cultivated. Herodotus records indeed that the builders of the pyramids sustained their strength on a diet of “radishes, onions and leeks,” and onions and bread were the staple diet of workers throughout the greater region. The Egyptians honored their onions, and were well-known in the ancient world for the quality of their leeks. But by the Roman period, while the leeks were considered a fit item for the tables of emperors, the onions, though grown in vast quantities, were confirmed in their place on the poor man’s table.

In the garden, it is easy to see why the onion has been so embraced by those lacking in both time and money. It is a hardy plant, resistant to disease and pests, and needing little in the way of cultivation. A bit of rich soil, perhaps a quick weeding once or twice during the year, and the tiny shoots you planted that looked like nothing more than frail blades of grass send up a tower of sturdy, pungent greenery, and then below ground swell into plump bulbs.

In our own kitchens, onions are ever present, and yet little regarded. They are so often used as a flavoring agent that I suspect few people realize how much they contribute to the bulk of a dish, and so ubiquitous that it’s easy to forget how much flavor they add, while their cousins garlic and shallot get most of the press. Few vegetables have ever carried so much weight with so little notice. In the store, there are always onions, vast piles of onions, cheap and long-lasting. Red onions and white, yellow onions in their darker skins, pearl onions and boiling onions, green onions, dried onions and french-fried onions.

I think too little thought often goes into the selection of onions. Red onions and white onions are sold, usually at a jacked-up price, peeled and trimmed, a form in which they must be kept refrigerated. This allows you to get a good look at the onions and is undoubtedly more convenient, if one is willing to pay twice the price and use the onion swiftly. The yellow onions, our local most common staple, are sold only untrimmed and often poorly sorted. And yet a good yellow onion will sit like a bronze pearl, filling its skin smoothly with no trace of bruising or of the black powdery mold that likely infests many of its neighbors. I have been laughed at by produce clerks for my careful selection of onions, but I have never regretted looking closely. (Onions in bags, while cheap and convenient, I have often regretted, in part because the bag often prevents close inspection, and onions only last a long time if they are intact.)

When I was first on my own, at 15 finding myself abruptly responsible for my own sustenance, I kept my ears always open as I made my way through the produce aisle. One day, I overheard a woman talking of the labor of feeding a family after a long day at work herself. “When I get home, sometimes I don’t know what I’m going to make, and no one else wants to wait at all. But my mother told me a trick — chop up and fry an onion in a pan, and you’ll buy yourself some time. When they smell that onion coming out of the kitchen, they’ll sit back and wait, because they know it’s going to be good.”

Or consider the venerable soup bone.

It is a curious reversal that the thrifty old art of boiling meaty bones for soup, and the great equalizer of the soup pot where the taste of the ingredients is shared by all even if the best pieces might not be, has become something of a mark of culinary distinction. True cooks now build their stock with love, patience, time and often fairly expensive ingredients. Indeed, it is common now for a stock to be made for soup, after which the meat the stock was drawn from is thrown away and replaced by fresh pieces for the finished product.

I can’t quite see that. From a technique point, yes, this is a fine way to build a soup, but to rob meat of its flavor and yet little of its nutrients and then to throw the meat away… perhaps there is a time and a place for such extravagance, but not in my kitchen, as late autumn mutters of the coming of winter. There are generations enough of hungry dead.

Soup bones are almost an anachronism to most home cooks. They come from a time when people were more comfortable with the animal origins of their meat, when larger roasts were more common and yet also more dear, and when people took care to extract all the nutrients they could from their food. Today, one is more likely to see beef “stew meat” for sale, though this ignores that the purpose of a soup bone isn’t only meat, but tendon, cartilage, connective tissue and even marrow. (A dear friend of mine, retired lawyer and accomplished Jewish mother, informs me that the curative powers of matzoh ball soup reside in the gelatin leached out of the chicken. I hesitate at such a reductionist explanation, but the theory is the same. A good rich homemade broth will thicken and even solidify when cold.)

Onion Lemon Soup with Mushrooms

This soup has Greek avgolemono in its ancestry, but it has become vegetarian and shifted its focus to include the onions and mushrooms that form the base of the stock. The onions must be thoroughly caramelized.

The dried mushrooms in this recipe can be six or so good-sized shiitake mushrooms, reconstituted in warm water and then sliced, or a slightly smaller quantity of dried porcini, matsutake or other strong-tasting wild mushroom — chantrelles, delicately flavored as they are, would be lost. One could also substitute a cup or fresh shiitake or porcini for both the dried and fresh mushrooms, or use some combination thereof. I’m afraid this really only qualifies as poverty food if you hunt your own mushrooms, considering the prices wild mushrooms command, though during my impoverished years I sometimes found dried mushrooms in the marked-down bin.

  • 1 or 2 large onions (yellow or white) chopped
  • Olive oil
  • 3 to 6 cloves garlic, crushed and chopped
  • 1 cup button mushrooms, sliced
  • Dried mushrooms
  • 2 cups cooked rice
  • 1 bay leaf
  • Salt, pepper
  • Juice of two lemons
  • 2 egg yolks
  • 2 quarts water, plus an additional &fraq14; cup

In a thick-bottomed pot, caramelize the onions in olive oil over medium heat until they are thoroughly brown. (If they begin to stick to the bottom of the pan too badly, you may deglaze the pan by pouring in a few tablespoons of water and stirring vigorously, until the water boils off and you resume caramelizing.) Add the garlic and mushrooms and continue to cook, stirring gently, until the mushrooms are tender.

Add two quarts of water, the rice and the bay leaf, bring soup to a simmer, and let it simmer for 20 minutes or so. Add salt and pepper, taste the broth and correct the seasoning if needed. (Add more salt, more mushrooms or perhaps a teaspoon or so of molasses.)

Remove pot from heat while you juice the lemons and separate the eggs.

Add lemon juice. Beat the egg yolks. Beat in about a quarter cup of lukewarm water. Then beat in a half-cup of broth from your soup. (The idea here is for the egg yolks to blend smoothly with the broth and not to cook too quickly.) Finally, whisk the egg and broth mixture into your soup, and return the soup to the burner, over medium low heat. Return to the barest simmer, gently, then remove from heat and serve

Beef Bone Barley

This soup is based on a savory, layered broth that still uses all of its edible parts. The bones and raw and roasted meat add richness and complexity to the broth.

  • 1 soup bone
  • 1 small package beef stew meat
  • 1 cup barley
  • 1 onion, chopped
  • 3 or 4 cloves garlic, crushed
  • 2 or 3 carrots (optional)
  • 2 or 3 stalks celery (optional)
  • 1 bay leaf
  • 5 to 10 peppercorns
  • 1 glug of red wine, if available
  • Salt

For the soup bone, if you do not have easy access to a neighborhood butcher, nose around in your grocery’s meat department. Often bones for soup are hidden in the frozen section. I’d recommend a nice joint, if possible, and don’t worry too much about whether it has meat on it, as you’ll be adding meat later. Ox tails are never a bad thing, either, though they make for a very rich soup.

Cover your soup bone in cold water in a thick-bottomed pot, and then slowly heat the pot over a low burner. Seek a stable temperature just at the edge of simmering, cover and allow to stew overnight.

A few hours before dinnertime, remove the soup bone and discard. Add half your stew meat to the pot, and roast the other for some 20 minutes in a 350-degree oven. Add the roasted meat as well to the pot. Add the cup of barley, cover and continue simmering.

Forty minutes or so before dinner, add the onion, garlic, carrots, celery, bay leaf and peppercorns. Add your glug of wine, and quickly cover and return to simmering.

In the last few minutes before serving, add salt, remove the bay leaf and taste the broth. Add more salt, wine or fresh ground pepper if needed.

Honoring Yourself – Adjusting to the Dark Time of Year

Honoring Yourself – Adjusting to the Dark Time of Year
Did you know that you can maximize your energy levels by adjusting your food and exercise to match the season? Now Autumn is in full swing, and it’s chilly! It’s a lot more work for your body to stay warm, but you can ease the process by focusing your diet on warm dishes using seasonal foods to give yourself that extra nutritional boost and exercising regularly to heat your body up! Adding pungent and spicy herbs can warm you up too: garlic, oregano, thyme, onions, cayenne, chili, curry, rosemary, basil etc…
Colds, congestion and constipation are pretty typical this time of year. We’re too busy to rest and exercise as much as we need or we indulge on sweets during the holidays or all of the above! These conditions are simply signals from the body that you need to simplify and cleanse a bit. To balance out: rest, hydrate, exercise and eat plenty of seasonal produce, especially in soup our stew form. Even the seasonal fruit is cleansing for your system. Check your local farmer’s market, but it’s likely you’ll find these seasonal foods available: cranberries, apples, pears, pomegranite, oranges, pumpkins, squashs, turnips, parsnips, beets, brussel sprouts, peppers, and sweet potatoes, garlic, and onions.
One way to lower your chances of coming down with a cold or the flu this season is to practice deep relaxation on a daily basis. Often relaxing deeply will give you an energy boost because the energy your muscles were using to stay tense is now directed back into the body system and available for you to repair damage, neutralize a “bug”, or simply to recharge. The most simple at home technique for deep relaxation is to sit comfortably and breath slowly. Inhale for a count of four, pause briefly, and then exhale for a count of 8. Repeat for 5 or 10 minutes until you feel peaceful and calm. You can do this simple breathing exercise anytime and anyplace – while sitting in traffic, in a meeting, waiting in line, while on hold on the phone, when you first wake up, in bed to help you fall asleep, etc…

For many this time of year also means going to and leaving work happens in the dark. You might not be getting enough sunlight to regulate your body’s rhythms so that you feel your best. If you can, expose your hands and face to the sun outside daily in the morning for 5-15 minutes to let your body know it’s time to be alert, awake and energized. If you can’t get outside, consider investing in a natural spectrum lap and give yourself a light treat every morning during breakfast for 5-15 minutes. The resulting alertness and focus is quite amazing!

 
Whether your schedule is busting at the seams, you don’t want to leave the house, or the usual holiday stressors are looming on the horizon – the best thing you can do for yourself to float through the holidays with peace and bliss this fall is to make self-care a priority.
Schedule an appointment with yourself to relax and rejuvenate every day, or at the very least every week. And, keep this appointment with yourself like it’s a date with someone important to you. (I hope you are important to you.) Taking this time out on a regular basis is the key to being energized, staying calm, and feeling good about all the decisions you have to make during the busy time of year – about what you eat, what you buy, how you spend your time, etc…

I recommend you pull out your calendar right now and set aside your self-care appointments before the holiday invitations start coming in. The trick is to honor these appointments with yourself by saying no to invitations that conflict, or if you can’t or don’t want to say no to an important event, rescheduling your self-care appointment to another time that day or day that week. The key is making self-care a priority and sticking with your commitment to relax and rejuvenate.

By Artemisia
 
About the Author– Artemisia is a High Priestess of the Order of the White Moon. She is one of the co-founders of the branch sisterhood of the Order – Sisters in Celebration. She can be reached at artemisia333@…. She lives and works in the Boston area as a Reiki & Wellness practitioner.

To Brew a Cauldron of Roots and Bones

To Brew a Cauldron of Roots and Bones

 

by Catherine Harper

When the year turns, the earth is less gentle, and the outdoors is no longer safe. The soft green woods of summer are now stripped bare and home to winds and rain. For light and warmth, we must retreat inside, even in the gentle clime of Puget Sound, where we are sheltered by the mountains and the extremities of season are kept at bay by the vast thermal mass of the ocean.

All at once, it seems, it is autumn, and past the drawn-out golden harvest and into the dark days and rain. There may be a few peppers and tomatoes left to us, but the season has turned from fruit to fallow. For the gardener, there are a few hardy greens, the squash lying amidst their shriveling vines and the late apples. For the forager, there are a few roots and the cool-weather fruiting of mushrooms. But the focus has changed from the fields and orchards to the kitchens, pantries and root cellars, from what is fresh to what can be saved for later use.

After the extravagance of the autumn harvest, it is a good time to contemplate the dark season. All that is left of the corn are the stalks in the field; in the orchard, the branches are bare. The supermarkets bring us strange and often illusory delights from far distant lands (yes, one can have hothouse strawberries in winter, or bland and mealy fruits picked too early and ripened far from their trees, but do the limp imitations you may purchase feed your body any better than they do your soul?). But you still may take a step back and look at the land around you, and recall both to the mind and table the humble foods that are still with us.

Consider, then, the onion.

The origins of onions are hidden back in the misty recesses of antiquity. There are wild onions known and enjoyed throughout the world, and by the time the pyramids were built the onion was widely cultivated. Herodotus records indeed that the builders of the pyramids sustained their strength on a diet of “radishes, onions and leeks,” and onions and bread were the staple diet of workers throughout the greater region. The Egyptians honored their onions, and were well-known in the ancient world for the quality of their leeks. But by the Roman period, while the leeks were considered a fit item for the tables of emperors, the onions, though grown in vast quantities, were confirmed in their place on the poor man’s table.

In the garden, it is easy to see why the onion has been so embraced by those lacking in both time and money. It is a hardy plant, resistant to disease and pests, and needing little in the way of cultivation. A bit of rich soil, perhaps a quick weeding once or twice during the year, and the tiny shoots you planted that looked like nothing more than frail blades of grass send up a tower of sturdy, pungent greenery, and then below ground swell into plump bulbs.

In our own kitchens, onions are ever present, and yet little regarded. They are so often used as a flavoring agent that I suspect few people realize how much they contribute to the bulk of a dish, and so ubiquitous that it’s easy to forget how much flavor they add, while their cousins garlic and shallot get most of the press. Few vegetables have ever carried so much weight with so little notice. In the store, there are always onions, vast piles of onions, cheap and long-lasting. Red onions and white, yellow onions in their darker skins, pearl onions and boiling onions, green onions, dried onions and french-fried onions.

I think too little thought often goes into the selection of onions. Red onions and white onions are sold, usually at a jacked-up price, peeled and trimmed, a form in which they must be kept refrigerated. This allows you to get a good look at the onions and is undoubtedly more convenient, if one is willing to pay twice the price and use the onion swiftly. The yellow onions, our local most common staple, are sold only untrimmed and often poorly sorted. And yet a good yellow onion will sit like a bronze pearl, filling its skin smoothly with no trace of bruising or of the black powdery mold that likely infests many of its neighbors. I have been laughed at by produce clerks for my careful selection of onions, but I have never regretted looking closely. (Onions in bags, while cheap and convenient, I have often regretted, in part because the bag often prevents close inspection, and onions only last a long time if they are intact.)

When I was first on my own, at 15 finding myself abruptly responsible for my own sustenance, I kept my ears always open as I made my way through the produce aisle. One day, I overheard a woman talking of the labor of feeding a family after a long day at work herself. “When I get home, sometimes I don’t know what I’m going to make, and no one else wants to wait at all. But my mother told me a trick — chop up and fry an onion in a pan, and you’ll buy yourself some time. When they smell that onion coming out of the kitchen, they’ll sit back and wait, because they know it’s going to be good.”

Or consider the venerable soup bone.

It is a curious reversal that the thrifty old art of boiling meaty bones for soup, and the great equalizer of the soup pot where the taste of the ingredients is shared by all even if the best pieces might not be, has become something of a mark of culinary distinction. True cooks now build their stock with love, patience, time and often fairly expensive ingredients. Indeed, it is common now for a stock to be made for soup, after which the meat the stock was drawn from is thrown away and replaced by fresh pieces for the finished product.

I can’t quite see that. From a technique point, yes, this is a fine way to build a soup, but to rob meat of its flavor and yet little of its nutrients and then to throw the meat away… perhaps there is a time and a place for such extravagance, but not in my kitchen, as late autumn mutters of the coming of winter. There are generations enough of hungry dead.

Soup bones are almost an anachronism to most home cooks. They come from a time when people were more comfortable with the animal origins of their meat, when larger roasts were more common and yet also more dear, and when people took care to extract all the nutrients they could from their food. Today, one is more likely to see beef “stew meat” for sale, though this ignores that the purpose of a soup bone isn’t only meat, but tendon, cartilage, connective tissue and even marrow. (A dear friend of mine, retired lawyer and accomplished Jewish mother, informs me that the curative powers of matzoh ball soup reside in the gelatin leached out of the chicken. I hesitate at such a reductionist explanation, but the theory is the same. A good rich homemade broth will thicken and even solidify when cold.)

Onion Lemon Soup with Mushrooms

This soup has Greek avgolemono in its ancestry, but it has become vegetarian and shifted its focus to include the onions and mushrooms that form the base of the stock. The onions must be thoroughly caramelized.

The dried mushrooms in this recipe can be six or so good-sized shiitake mushrooms, reconstituted in warm water and then sliced, or a slightly smaller quantity of dried porcini, matsutake or other strong-tasting wild mushroom — chantrelles, delicately flavored as they are, would be lost. One could also substitute a cup or fresh shiitake or porcini for both the dried and fresh mushrooms, or use some combination thereof. I’m afraid this really only qualifies as poverty food if you hunt your own mushrooms, considering the prices wild mushrooms command, though during my impoverished years I sometimes found dried mushrooms in the marked-down bin.

  • 1 or 2 large onions (yellow or white) chopped
  • Olive oil
  • 3 to 6 cloves garlic, crushed and chopped
  • 1 cup button mushrooms, sliced
  • Dried mushrooms
  • 2 cups cooked rice
  • 1 bay leaf
  • Salt, pepper
  • Juice of two lemons
  • 2 egg yolks
  • 2 quarts water, plus an additional &fraq14; cup

In a thick-bottomed pot, caramelize the onions in olive oil over medium heat until they are thoroughly brown. (If they begin to stick to the bottom of the pan too badly, you may deglaze the pan by pouring in a few tablespoons of water and stirring vigorously, until the water boils off and you resume caramelizing.) Add the garlic and mushrooms and continue to cook, stirring gently, until the mushrooms are tender.

Add two quarts of water, the rice and the bay leaf, bring soup to a simmer, and let it simmer for 20 minutes or so. Add salt and pepper, taste the broth and correct the seasoning if needed. (Add more salt, more mushrooms or perhaps a teaspoon or so of molasses.)

Remove pot from heat while you juice the lemons and separate the eggs.

Add lemon juice. Beat the egg yolks. Beat in about a quarter cup of lukewarm water. Then beat in a half-cup of broth from your soup. (The idea here is for the egg yolks to blend smoothly with the broth and not to cook too quickly.) Finally, whisk the egg and broth mixture into your soup, and return the soup to the burner, over medium low heat. Return to the barest simmer, gently, then remove from heat and serve

Beef Bone Barley

This soup is based on a savory, layered broth that still uses all of its edible parts. The bones and raw and roasted meat add richness and complexity to the broth.

  • 1 soup bone
  • 1 small package beef stew meat
  • 1 cup barley
  • 1 onion, chopped
  • 3 or 4 cloves garlic, crushed
  • 2 or 3 carrots (optional)
  • 2 or 3 stalks celery (optional)
  • 1 bay leaf
  • 5 to 10 peppercorns
  • 1 glug of red wine, if available
  • Salt

For the soup bone, if you do not have easy access to a neighborhood butcher, nose around in your grocery’s meat department. Often bones for soup are hidden in the frozen section. I’d recommend a nice joint, if possible, and don’t worry too much about whether it has meat on it, as you’ll be adding meat later. Ox tails are never a bad thing, either, though they make for a very rich soup.

Cover your soup bone in cold water in a thick-bottomed pot, and then slowly heat the pot over a low burner. Seek a stable temperature just at the edge of simmering, cover and allow to stew overnight.

A few hours before dinnertime, remove the soup bone and discard. Add half your stew meat to the pot, and roast the other for some 20 minutes in a 350-degree oven. Add the roasted meat as well to the pot. Add the cup of barley, cover and continue simmering.

Forty minutes or so before dinner, add the onion, garlic, carrots, celery, bay leaf and peppercorns. Add your glug of wine, and quickly cover and return to simmering.

In the last few minutes before serving, add salt, remove the bay leaf and taste the broth. Add more salt, wine or fresh ground pepper if needed.

H A R V E S T R E C I P E S

H A R V E S T   R E C I P E S

SAGE DRESSING WITH AMISH APPLE SAUSAGE

I make this every year for our Thanksgiving celebration, and it is delicious!
This makes enough for a 9 to 11 pound turkey.  Look for a fine Amish style
sausage at gourmet or natural food groceries.

2 to 3 medium links Amish apple sausage, casings removed (see below)
2 T. butter or bacon grease
1/2 cup chopped onion
2  large cloves minced garlic
3/4 cups chopped celery
3/4 of a bag of good quality herb bread cubes for stuffing
1 cup cubed cornbread
1 1/2  to 2 cups chicken or vegetable stock/broth
1 Tablespoon dried rubbed sage (or less, depending on how much you enjoy sage)
salt and pepper to taste
1/2 cup dried cranberries

If you can find it, use a fine, pre-mixed sausage with apples added to it (Amish
style).  Otherwise, use 2 cups of  fine sausage and add 1/2 cup sautéed, finely
chopped apples to it. Sauté onion, garlic and celery in butter or grease until
softened over medium heat.  Add crumbled sausage and cook until browned.  Season
with salt and pepper and sage, and add cranberries.  Add all undrained to the
bread cubes. Mix together, and add stock to soften, making sure it does not
become soggy: some cubes should still have dry spots.  Stuff into the cavities
of a turkey ready to cook.  Bake in the bird.  After the meat is thoroughly
cooked, remove stuffing straightaway and refrigerate separately.

CORNBREAD

This is a hearty bread, not too cake-like, and good for use in stuffings or to
eat with chili.

1 cup cornmeal…Mix dry ingredients together; add egg, butter, half n’ half and
milk, and blend well with a mixer.  Pour into a greased bread sized pan and
bake.  Serve with butter and honey.
1 cup flour
3/4 Tablespoon baking powder
3/4 teaspoon salt
1 heaping T. sugar
1 large egg
6 T. melted butter
1/2 c. half and half (half milk and half cream)
3/4 cup milk

WILD RICE WITH APPLES AND WALNUTS

1 cup wild rice
2 cups water
1 Tablespoon vegetable oil…Cook rice and oil in water for 50 minutes.
1 cup walnuts…combine nuts, celery, onions, raisins, drained apple and lemon
rind and set aside.
1 rib of celery, chopped
4 chopped scallions
1 cup raisins
1 red apple, peeled and chopped, set aside in lemon water
2 teaspoons grated lemon rind
3 T. lemon juice…whisk together juice, salt and pepper, garlic and oil and add
to cooked rice
2 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 t. salt
1/3 cup olive oil
pepper, to taste
    Add fruit mixture to the rice (to which has been added oil, spices and
juice) and mix well.  May be served cold or heated.

GREEN CHILE, from my sister Erin, enough to cover 4 burritos or so

1 cup mild, diced green chilis
4 cups peeled, chopped tomatoes and juice
1 T. butter
2 Tablespoons olive oil
1 clove garlic, chopped
1 T. flour
salt to taste, optional: fresh cilantro, ground cumin
1/2 cup minced onion Saute garlic and onion in butter until softened, then    
add chilis to soften. Add a bit more butter or water if its too dry, and then
set aside. Cook the flour in the oil to make a paste, whisk in a bit of juice
from the tomatoes, and then add rest of tomatoes. Salt, season and simmer on low
heat for 20 minutes, and serve with beans, rice and warm tortillas, or other
Mexican food.

SWEET POTATO CASSEROLE

I make this every Thanksgiving: its delicious, and not over sweet

3 pounds sweet potatoes, peeled and steamed until completely soft
3/4 cup orange juice
2 eggs, beaten
2 Tablespoons melted butter
2 T. sugar
1 1/2 Teaspoons cinnamon
1/2 t. nutmeg…mix juice, eggs, sugar and spices and blend thoroughly with
potatoes using an electric mixer.  Spread into a greased 9″X13″ pan.
1/2 cup flour
1/4 c plus 2 T. brown sugar
1/2 t. cinnamon
1/4 c. chopped butter
1/2 c. chopped pecans…mix together flour, brown sugar, cinnamon, butter and     
nuts until crumbly, spread on top of sweet potatoes and bake at 350 degrees
for 30 minutes.

Protective Charm Bag

Protective Charm Bag 

 

Garlic is a great protective herb. Besides its supposed properties of keeping away vampires and the roaming undead, a clove of garlic comes in handy for kitchen magick. For this kitchen charm, use a four-inch squre of black fabric and about six to eight inches of black ribbon. Place the clove of garlic for protection and purification in the center of the fabric. Add a pinch of salt to break up any negativity you feel may be surrounding you or the situation.

 

Gather up each edge of the square, name them for each of the four Elements. After you gather the corners together, tie the bag closed with the ribbbon. Take a careful look at this kitchen charm, the directions are all laid out for you.

 

By the powers of earth (pick up one corner)

 

And air (gather the second quarter)

 

And fire (pick up the third)

 

And water (and the last corner)

 

I create this Witch’s protective charm.
(tie the fabric closed with the ribbon)

 

Grant me safety and shield me from all harm. 

 

Remember to seal this charm with the closing line.

 

By all the powers of three times three,

 

As I will it, then so shall it be.

 

You may keep the charm bag on your person or tucked away in the most-used room of your home to boost your magickal household protections.

 

Juniper Spell (1) Hot Mama Douche

Soul mate? Perhaps all you desire is to find a fun, vigorous, exciting lover. This hoodoo formulation takes a little while to prepare but promises quick, exciting solutions.

  1. Make juniper vinegar, warm apple cider or wine vinegar on the stove. Add a handful of bruised juniper berries. Let it simmer for a little while, then bottle in an air tight container. Allow this to sit for at least two weeks, and then strain out the berries.

  2. When you’re ready to use it, dilute with warm water or a hydrosol.

  3. Used as a douche, this is said to draw men like the proverbial flies.

A Pioneer’s Apothecary

TO RELIEVE A COUGH, squeeze the juice of one large onion and add one tablespoon of honey. Take one teaspoon three or four times daily. Apply the onion to the chest, “mashing it well.”

Mix two teaspoons of cider vinegar in water or wine. Sip one tablespoon four times daily.

Combine two tablespoons of honey with one tablespoon of grated horseradish root to sooth a cough.

Make a tea of one teaspoon grated nutmeg in one cup of hot cider. Drink three times daily.

Herb of the Day for May 20th is Borage

Herb of the Day

Borage

Folk Names:  Bugloss, Burrage, Herb of Gladness, Star Flower, Borak, Lisan selvi, Lesan-El-Tour

Gender: Masculine

Planet: Jupiter

Element:  Air

Powers:  Courage, Psychic Powers

Magickal Uses:  Carry the fresh blossoms to strengthen your courage, or place one in your buttonhole for protection when walking outdoors.

A tea of borage induced psychic powers.

Cooking Dinner Does Not Make You a Kitchen Witch

Cooking Dinner Does Not Make You a Kitchen Witch

Author: Deborah

I spent my twenties fighting against who I really was in oh so many ways. I didn’t want to be a kitchen Witch. I thought that was the least impressive, most Holly Hobby branch of magic there is.

You have to picture me from ten years ago: I’m constantly listening to NIN! I wear boots with sparkly laces to my corporate gig! I’m thrashing around on top of tables pumped full of piss and goldschlagger! I’m trying to break glass ceilings! I’m smoking cigars with the boys! I’m demanding my place at the occult table at occult events! I’m getting tats! I’m going through Shamanic trials! I’m punk rock and . . . you want me to bake a cake? Really? Really?

So I fought against it for while, which is why I wasn’t terribly successful in my own personal magic for quite some time. Somewhere around 27? 28? I started really embracing it. Once I bought my own home, my own hearth, I *really* started embracing hearth Witchery. I had the tools all along, it turns out. I just needed to know how to use them.

When I first started blogging, I wanted to bff (best friends forever!) a variety of people in the magical world. But let me be honest, most of all I wanted to befriend fellow kitchen Witches. Sisters/brothers unite! Let’s get some spit, blood, hair, dirt, and basil and get this party started!

But I didn’t find too many. I Googled. I tried tracking down people. I tried a lot of different key words. Honestly, I found a lot of people who claimed to be kitchen Witches, but in scanning their blogs all I generally found were recipes and chatter about their kids. Now, there’s nothing wrong with any of that, but there are some flaws to it.

What Doesn’t Make You a Kitchen Witch Per Se (in my opinion) :

A recipe isn’t magical in and of itself. Just dumping a bunch of recipes on your blog doesn’t make you a kitchen Witch anymore than it makes Wolfgang Puck a kitchen Witch. If you said I use honey in my Chocolate Lavender Mousse to sweeten my mother-in-law towards me because she’s a complete bitch on wheels to me by that point in the meal or I put menstrual blood in my spaghetti sauce so my husband still thinks I’m dropping it like it’s hot even when I’m tired and in sweats, rock! Those are magical acts. Bring on the recipes!

Having children. While yes, it is a very specific way to mark your transition into motherhood (sometimes) , kids don’t really make you a practicing magic type person any more than it makes SuperNanny Mary Poppins. Things that would: Using magic to help soothe a baby/get a baby to sleep (I will only slightly guiltily confess to having done this before) , protection magic, detailing tiny rituals you do with your kids.

Being a Homemaker. I do very much think that unpaid labor in the home needs to be appreciated and ideally compensated (please see here for more clearly articulated thoughts on the matter, it’s applicable for both mono/poly people) , but it’s a job. And just like going to work in an office is not a magical act in and of itself, neither is taking care of your home. If you were talking about cleaning/organizing in a magical blog and discussing how to be more green (because we need to take care of Mother Earth of course and she’s a goddess in and of herself) , discussing what oils you use to scent your house and why, what you do to keep the house spiritually/magically clean, rock on.

What Qualifies You as a Kitchen Witch/Hearth Wo/man/Someone Who Does Hedge-Like Magic (in my opinion) :

If the Personal is Political, then the Every Day is Magical. Look, you don’t have to cast +5 magic every time you make hotdogs for dinner on a Tuesday night. But what can you be doing in your every day life in your hearth to make it more magical? Smudging with sage every few days to clear out the energies? Spray bottling your bed with a water based mist you made that has come to me oil in it? Choosing your cooking herbs based on magical purposes? Go crazy.

Deb’s Example Rite for Making the Every Day Magical: I had been hemming and hawing about starting my current novel because (a) I’ve never finished writing one and (b) it’s a little silly in a genre that’s already a little silly. But it came to me in a dream and it feels right. So I started by not just slap dashing it together, I took my time. I did research on names, other books in the genre, brainstormed and I made a mood board for it. When I knew it was time to start writing, I wanted it started right. I wanted my surroundings perfect, like giving birth (which is what I do with writing) . I made sure my house was clean, went to brunch (appropriate for the kind of novel it is) and then I put on mood music and wrote. When I finished the beginning, I sealed it with eating a really posh chocolate (salted dark chocolate with balsamic and caramel) from the best chocolatier in NJ, which was also appropriate for my novel’s genre. It wasn’t about me putting together a mojo bag in this case; it was about choosing my actions carefully and doing everything with intent. There would have been nothing wrong with making a mojo bag, but it was more important in this situation to write in a magically charged environment for me to get this show on the road.

Get a Base Education in the Lower Arts. Yeah, yeah, you like to put on your robes and call on all the archangels and whatever. Cool. But sometimes for whatever reason, you’ll need to know how to do things quick and dirty, so learn how. Learn what salt and kitchen herbs can do for you, learn about mojo hands and honey pots and spirit bottles. I recommend of course the incomparable cat yonwode’s Hoodoo Herb and Root Magic as your Idiot’s Guide. Test yourself if you’re super structured magically, pretend a friend needs a fertility charm tonight and you need to get to her just using stuff around your house. What do you do?

Get a Base Education in House Wifery. Some men back in the day got married because they had no clue how to take care of themselves. While that’s not so common in this day and age, you still need a base education in house wifery to be a successful hearth wo/man. Thanks to most of the first world being a convenience culture, you may have been getting by on relying on take out, a dry cleaner, and a cleaning service. That’s all well and good, but you’re missing pieces you need to be a successful hearth wo/man. If you are missing any of these things, that’s okay, don’t feel bad about it. But a lot of people cry, ‘Oh I’m no good at it’! Or, I don’t know how! Ignorantia juris non excusat. Ignorance of the law excuses no one, so get to work. It won’t be perfect from the gate, but nothing is. Ask someone better versed for help, if you know someone. Worst case you burn a few casseroles and shred a few shirts; it’s no big deal. Even if you won’t use it for a while or ever (though you’d be surprised) , these are all good life skills to have that will translate over into your magical life. Think of them as Hearth Meditations.

Can you:
* Do your own laundry?
* Have your house clean enough to have your mother or mother-in-law or Miss Martha over without them making a face?
* Cook a dinner for yourself and others?
* Meal plan?
* Budget and financially plan?
* Be able to make a casserole quickly for an emergency?
* Host/ess a party?
* Know how to bake something from scratch?
* Know how to do your own grocery shopping that’s more than just “box food”?
* Know how to do basic clothing repair?
* Know what to bring as a hostess gift?
* Know how to conduct yourself socially at various social obligations?
* Know how to give yourself self-care?
* Know v. basic first aid?
* Know how to care for small children for a day?

It’s okay to have untargeted kitchen Witch practices. Look, I’m the first to say that some of my more focused practice is lacking. You don’t have to use every bread baking experience as a magical attempt to influence a situation. You can use it as a meditational practice and focus on the magic of the experience, that’s perfectly valid. Think about why whatever is you’re doing – baking, cooking, cleaning, sewing, whatever is a magical experience for you. This is a free form essay, you’re not being graded, whatever reason you have for it being a magical experience for you is right. There are things in everyone’s life I think (I hope!) that are magical to him or her but not targeted for results. It’s good to have and share those experiences too.

You need to know how to do this stuff. That does not mean you need to do it all the time. I had suggested a base education in house wifery, but that doesn’t mean that you’re responsible for it all the time in some kind of psychotic Valium laced Stepford scenario. I know how to do laundry, but my significant other does it in our household. If he ever said, do your own laundry, I could. If you know how to clean your house sparklingly clean but chose to not live in a constant Miss Martha police state, that’s okay. If it’s part of your strategy as a hearth Witch, well then you must be a clever kitchen Witch! My house would not pass Lakshmi inspection at all times (or really like 29 days out of the month) either. If you have the means to send out your laundry or order take out every night, rock out. You just need to know how to perform these functions should you ever need to. It’s sort of like knowing how to do long division. It’s good to know how to do by hand, but the gods made calculators for a reason.

Sometimes, simple is best. I suggested a basic practice in kitchen/hearth Witchery for people who work primarily in “higher” magic because like a proper dilettante, I believe in being well rounded. And frankly sometimes if you need to do something on the fly, it’s a lot easier to pour some salt into a bowl and spit into it than to do a long formal practice. I also think it’s good to know simple magic in order to be able to obtain simple things. You need fifty bucks to make your bills this month? You could do something v. formal or you could do something quick and get on with your life. Formal magic often requires a lot more time, energy, and effort. And there are certain things that are better suited to those practices, but you need a quick little something, low magic just seems like a better way to do so.

Furthering the math analogy, you may become so accustomed to Calculus and using a calculator to do so, you forget how to do basic level math. This is not going to help you when it’s your job to do bistro math for the table ’cause you’re the math chick and you left your cell phone at home.

Some of what I suggest needing to know may seem unnecessary and sort of Mr. Miyagi, but look at it from a kitchen Witch’s perspective: You claim to be a kitchen/hearth Witch, I’m supposed to trust you to do a love spell for me using hearth magic, but . . .you don’t know how to take care of your hearth which functions as your temple, your magical work space? Fill in your own mechanic/gyno joke here.

Footnotes:
http://www.polyamorousmisanthrope.com/2007/07/15/being-used/ – Article referenced in “Homemaker” section

Herb Butters

Herb butters add a delightful flavor to vegetables, crackers, breads and meats. They are quick and easy to prepare and turn an ordinary dinner into a meal to remember 

Hints:

  • Use unsalted butter

  • Use lemon zest to enhance flavor

  • Mix into softened butter or simmer

  • Herb butters get stronger with time. Refrigerate two to three weeks. Freeze two to three months

  • Add nuts just prior to serving

  • Chop fresh herbs, cut with scissors, or food process fully dry

  • Simmer herbs about ten minutes. Do not bubble.