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Saturday, November 9, 2013

Ms. Sadie Dell's English Pickled Red Cabbage

http://www.ufseeds.com/Red-Acre-Cabbage-Seeds.item
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"We always had a jar of Pickled Red Cabbage to go with any meat at a meal sitting on the dining room table. Makes 3 one pound jars.

Red Cabbage Pickle

1 large Red Cabbage
Salt
2 1/2 cups Vinegar
1 tablespoon Pickling Spice
2 teaspoons Dry Mustard Powder

Quarter the Cabbage and rinse. Cut out the thick centre stalk. Shred the Cabbage finely, place in a very large flat dish and sprinkle with Salt. Leave to stand in a cool place for at least 24 hours. Drain the Cabbage in a colander thoroughly, then pack it into clean jars. Boil the Vinegar, Spice and Mustard for 5 minutes, then leave until cold and remove the Spices. Pour over the Cabbage in the jars and seal or cover." - Sadie the Brit. 

Editor's Note: Sadie the Brit has her own LABEL. Look in the LABELS in the left margin to find more of her recipes. I think you could add a tablespoon of Mustard Seed instead of the Dry Mustard Powder.
COMING SOON: Sadie's Almond Cake, Chicken Curry and English Cottage Pie. Stay tuned.


Friday, October 25, 2013

Wild Garden Art

"Gardening is not a rational act. What matters is the immersion of the hands in the earth, that ancient ceremony of which the Pope kissing the tarmac is merely a pallid vestigial remnant. In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt." - Margaret Atwood

I am Italian. I love formal gardens like the gardens of the Villa d'Este. I saw many formal gardens in Europe. They are lovely, grand, spacious and orderly. I look at them long and long.

I love to walk through a formal garden. I would not want to live and garden in one. All that order and grandeur would then make me uncomfortable. At home, I like a little more whimsey and disorder.

In my own garden, I am far from formal and orderly. I thought I would share some wild, funny, creative garden art with you. Maybe one of these ideas will spark some crazy garden art plans in you.

Think color. Think found materials. Be bold and silly. Please yourself.
"Doesn't matter what you do, or how you do it, your neighbors are gonna talk about you anyway." - Felder Rushing





Thursday, October 24, 2013

F. Scott Fitzgerald Talks Turkey

I found this in Fitzgerald’s 1945 collection of essays, notebook excerpts, and letters, The Crack-Up

TURKEY REMAINS AND HOW TO INTER THEM WITH NUMEROUS SCARCE RECIPES

At this post holiday season, the refrigerators of the nation are overstuffed with large masses of turkey, the sight of which is calculated to give an adult an attack of dizziness. It seems, therefore, an appropriate time to give the owners the benefit of my experience as an old gourmet, in using this surplus material. Some of the recipes have been in my family for generations. (This usually occurs when rigor mortis sets in.) They were collected over years, from old cook books, yellowed diaries of the Pilgrim Fathers, mail order catalogues, golf-bags and trash cans. Not one but has been tried and proven — there are headstones all over America to testify to the fact.

Very well then. Here goes:

Turkey Cocktail: To one large turkey add one gallon of vermouth and a demijohn of angostura bitters. Shake.

Turkey à la Francais: Take a large ripe turkey, prepare as for basting and stuff with old watches and chains and monkey meat. Proceed as with cottage pudding.

Turkey and Water: Take one turkey and one pan of water. Heat the latter to the boiling point and then put in the refrigerator. When it has jelled, drown the turkey in it. Eat. In preparing this recipe it is best to have a few ham sandwiches around in case things go wrong.

Turkey Mongole: Take three butts of salami and a large turkey skeleton, from which the feathers and natural stuffing have been removed. Lay them out on the table and call up some Mongole in the neighborhood to tell you how to proceed from there.

Turkey Mousse: Seed a large prone turkey, being careful to remove the bones, flesh, fins, gravy, etc. Blow up with a bicycle pump. Mount in becoming style and hang in the front hall.

Stolen Turkey: Walk quickly from the market, and, if accosted, remark with a laugh that it had just flown into your arms and you hadn’t noticed it. Then drop the turkey with the white of one egg—well, anyhow, beat it.

Turkey à la Crême: Prepare the crême a day in advance. Deluge the turkey with it and cook for six days over a blast furnace. Wrap in fly paper and serve.

Turkey Hash: This is the delight of all connoisseurs of the holiday beast, but few understand how really to prepare it. Like a lobster, it must be plunged alive into boiling water, until it becomes bright red or purple or something, and then before the color fades, placed quickly in a washing machine and allowed to stew in its own gore as it is whirled around. Only then is it ready for hash. To hash, take a large sharp tool like a nail-file or, if none is handy, a bayonet will serve the purpose—and then get at it! Hash it well! Bind the remains with dental floss and serve.

Feathered Turkey: To prepare this, a turkey is necessary and a one pounder cannon to compel anyone to eat it. Broil the feathers and stuff with sage-brush, old clothes, almost anything you can dig up. Then sit down and simmer. The feathers are to be eaten like artichokes (and this is not to be confused with the old Roman custom of tickling the throat.)

Turkey à la Maryland: Take a plump turkey to a barber’s and have him shaved, or if a female bird, given a facial and a water wave. Then, before killing him, stuff with old newspapers and put him to roost. He can then be served hot or raw, usually with a thick gravy of mineral oil and rubbing alcohol. (Note: This recipe was given me by an old black mammy.)

Turkey Remnant: This is one of the most useful recipes for, though not, “chic,” it tells what to do with the turkey after the holiday, and how to extract the most value from it. Take the remnants, or, if they have been consumed, take the various plates on which the turkey or its parts have rested and stew them for two hours in milk of magnesia. Stuff with moth-balls.

Turkey with Whiskey Sauce: This recipe is for a party of four. Obtain a gallon of whiskey, and allow it to age for several hours. Then serve, allowing one quart for each guest. The next day the turkey should be added, little by little, constantly stirring and basting.

For Weddings or Funerals: Obtain a gross of small white boxes such as are used for bride’s cake. Cut the turkey into small squares, roast, stuff, kill, boil, bake and allow to skewer. Now we are ready to begin. Fill each box with a quantity of soup stock and pile in a handy place. As the liquid elapses, the prepared turkey is added until the guests arrive. The boxes delicately tied with white ribbons are then placed in the handbags of the ladies, or in the men’s side pockets.

There I guess that’s enough turkey talk. I hope I’ll never see or hear of another until—well, until next year..





Tuesday, October 22, 2013

What's Cooking Uncle Sam? - Treasure Trove of Vintage Food Posters

I found this glorious WEBSITE for Foodys and those who appreciate graphic arts, history and political posters. I tell you, there are treasures there. Just hit the Preview buttons and enjoy.
"Food. We love it, fear it, and obsess about it.
We demand that our Government ensure that it is safe, cheap, and abundant. In response, Government has been a factor in the production, regulation, research, innovation, and economics of our food supply. It has also attempted, with varying success, to change the eating habits of Americans.

From the farm to the dinner table, explore the records of the National Archives that trace the Government’s effect on what Americans eat."