stick it in water, see if it grows

Awhile back, I read about a woman who takes random produce - garlic, potatoes, onions - and puts them back in the ground to see what will happen.  Sometimes she's rewarded with fresh growth, sometimes she digs up a rotten tuber.  I admire that entrepreneurial spirit of homesteaders who aren't afraid of a little failure now and then.  It's a wonderful attitude to adopt.  The last bunch of scallions that I bought were the first victims of my own experimentation.

After cutting off the tops for dinner one night, I plunked the rest in a cup of water, using skewers to keep the bulbs from completely submerging and potentially getting the ick.  The photo above was taken less than 24 hours after I plunked them in their new hydroponic haven.  As you can see, after that short amount of time, there was already new growth creeping up from the cut line.  

A few weeks later and they've completed regenerated.  They just require a change of water every couple of days.  I have no idea how long they'll last this way but considering I've learned how to cut the cost of a bunch of scallions at least in half, I'd call this test a success.  

where to begin?

Once I realized just how much I could create instead of purchase, the options were mind boggling to me.  Instead of asking myself "what can I make?" I now ask "what can't I make?" Instead of turning the house into my own personal department store of randomly selected crafts, I narrowed my focus down to a few basics that I use on a daily basis: pitas, pickles and skirts.  

Before starting on my baking on Labor Day, I needed to procure a rolling pin.  Instead of heading to William Sonoma, I pointed Beau towards my old dress form stand, which has been sitting in the basement since it was ousted by my new one this past Christmas.  Ten minutes later, he emerged wielding my upcycled rolling pin.

Baking looks much scarier than it actually is.  I followed the directions prescribed by the very first pita recipe that popped up after I googled "how to make pitas" and was rewarded with fresh, pillowy success.  Whole Foods is insane to charge something like $5.00 for a package of them.  These cost me less than $0.50 and taste exponentially better.

My pickle budget was also an embarrassing $5.00 a week.  Is there anything cheaper that tastes that good with falafel?  I don't think so.  I haven't progressed to canning yet, which made this item a little harder to replace.  That was, until I found Red Fire Farms quickle recipe and promptly reused a few old Claussen jars that were loafing around.  Quickles don't require actual canning, so I was able to do without those supplies.  They just need to live in the fridge instead of the pantry.  Not a huge sacrifice.  Pickling cucumbers are at the top of my gardening list next year, which will reduce each batch to pennies a slice.    

I wear skirts almost every day and most of them are either showing their ages or er, getting a little tight in the waist.  This khaki one is the second skirt to date and by far my favorite.  I used Buttericks 5421 again but the similarities end there since this time I had an inkling of what I was doing.  Since it's grand unveiling a few weeks ago at my nephew's birthday party, it has already become a staple of my work wardrobe.  And at under $10.00 for the entire bolt of cotton fabric at Ikea, it is also, an absolute steal.

I'm happy to think of how much plastic packaging will stay out of landfills from my new ability to make these three little items.  I'm also avoiding an array of unseen chemicals, saving oodles of money and not fueling a garment industry that pays its workers an unlivable wage.  This is a slippery slope I'm on.  What's next?  What can't I make? 

little squares of delicious

Beau is catching I-can-make-that-itis, the affliction that stifles purchasing anything that can be reasonably (or sometimes, unreasonably) made at home.  So, instead of buying croutons for tomato soup this week, he decided to make them from a mouth watering loaf of pumpernickel bread.  Just wait till I start making the bread, too.  

Ingredients

1/2 loaf of bread

Butter

1/2 tsp salt

1/2 tsp pepper

1/2 tsp celery salt

1/4 tsp garlic powder

1/2 tsp thyme, dried

1 tsp rosemary, dried

1 tsp grated parmesan cheese

Cut bread up into cubes.  If the bread is fresh, throw the pieces on a baking sheet and bake for 20 minutes at 200º F to dry them out a bit.  If the bread is stale, you can skip this step.  Combine the rest of the ingredients (except for the butter) in a large bowl and toss the dried bread cubes in it to thoroughly coat.  Melt a pat of butter in a skillet over medium heat and saute the seasoned bread cubes for 2-3 minutes.  Depending on the size of your skillet, you may need to do multiple batches.  Add a new pat of butter for each batch.  


Add to soup or salad or attempt to keep your spouse's grubby little hands out of the bowl.

come on irene

We lucked out in my area of Massachusetts this weekend with just one big tree down on the road in front of my neighborhood and a smattering of leafy debris in the backyard.  Still, I moved the garden inside before things got going on Sunday morning.

Easier than putting bike helmets on them

A baby turkey from the rival gang* ran into trouble though.  One minute he was waddling around with his family, the next he was in the backyard, chirping the most heartbreaking cry.  Lucky for him, Beau leapt into action and ran outside to hustle him back to the tree line where the rest of the flock had disappeared shortly before.  St. Beau, patron saint of poultry, returned from his adventure unscathed.  

The rest of the day was spent safely indoors engaging in various cabin-fever fighting activities.  I taught myself how to cast-on and (generally) how to do the knit stitch but after half a dozen attempts, things were still going terribly wrong when I tried to start a second row.  I figure some frustration is probably healthy for a person though.  It reminded me that not everything comes so easy.  I'm sure it'll make success that much sweeter in the end.

Knitting abortions

While I cussed and threw balls of yarn across the room, Beau was happily overhauling the basement and jamming out to a mix CD from high school that was discovered in the clean up (featuring among other gems NSync's It's Gonna Be Me).  When I was finally permitted to enter the sacred man space, I was delighted to find that our dedicated junk room had been reborn into a home brewery.

Behold!  The Man Cave

Like little alcoholic soldiers getting ready for battle

I hope everyone else out there faired as well as we did, both physically and organizationally this weekend!

* There are two flocks of turkeys in the woods behind our house.  Our flock of six birds including three adults and three babies, which frequents our backyard in the morning and early evening, and the group that we call the rival gang, which is too large to get a clear count on the members. 

mein haus ist ein biergarten

It seems like only days ago that Beau was horsing around with his very first Mr. Beer kit, but he’s already outgrown the simplified brewing process.  This weekend, he took me to the Witch’s Brew to buy all manner of big-boy supplies – hoses, buckets, giant carboys, sacks of grain and even a packet of special yeast that sat in my purse while we ate lunch in a restaurant because the poor little guys would have fried in the hot car.

My kitchen turned into a small scale brewery on Sunday.  I’m inclined to think that makes me a relatively indulgent wife, considering I stepped in beer puddles on a few occasions and the smell was … unpleasant.  Something that my entire arsenal of Yankee candles couldn’t handle.  The aroma finally dissipated when the ribs that were being slow-grilled for dinner burned and I turned them into a divine broth.  Nothing quite like pork and onions to clear the air.

But what’s a little stink between spouses anyway?  Beau was happy as a (drunken) clam, which made me happy even if my feet were sticky.  Now the house is aired out and we have five gallons of ale bubbling away in a corner.  The bubbles, I have learned, are yeast farts (unrelated to the smelliness).  The yeast eats the sugar and makes carbon dioxide.  I’ve taken to watching the gas escape from the airlock while dinner is on the stove.  Fttttp.