Christmas in Volcano

We drove home from our family get together in SoCal to continue our holiday celebration in Volcano. There’s nothing like being at home for Christmas (or anytime for that matter). Familiar decorations (my favorite glass nativity scene, our oversized knit stockings hung by the chimney with care, and our pole-pine tree covered with ornaments), the familiar sound of quiet (our enjoyment of this aspect of home was heightened by our having just returned from Los Angeles), the familiar smell of a fire in our wood stove, the familiar tastes of our own home-cooked food, and sleeping in our own bed. There was a time early in our lives together when we were constantly in transit and moving from house to house every few years (Buena Park, Santa Ana, Anaheim Hills, Campbell, Sutter Creek and finally to Volcano, first to our one-room cabin and then, finally, our house). We have lived in Volcano for twenty years now and no place has ever felt more like home than living in this beautiful cedar house nestled amongst the pines and cedars in the foothills of the Sierras. My appreciation of our lifestyle is always rekindled after a vacation or road trip, in particular, one to SoCal. This is not meant to be negative, so I’ll just say that I appreciate SoCal’s charm, but the traffic drives me crazy!!!

Back to our family time at home these past few days...

With both girls busy lawyering (Jana in LA and Lauren in Portland), they rarely get to NorCal and when they do our time together is intensified by the short nature of their visits. So much to do and so little time! Christmas day was very typical with a lot of eating, drinking, gift-opening, story-telling, and movie-watching. Santa was good to us and Verne (I) awoke to find an Excalibur dehydrator under the tree. Let the dehydrating begin! The girls each had a few surprise gifts beneath the tree, but in recent years our focus has been on small gifts that fit in our oversized knit stockings that I mentioned above. I made the first stocking several years ago for Verne. We were on a trip to Seattle to visit Scott and wandering the streets near his work when I first saw the stocking in a window of a yarn store. I bought the $50 kit in order to get the pattern and went on to make several. It turned out the kit was not overpriced at $50 as I’ve spent that on each, but the real cost is filling one of these over-sized (20-24 inches in length) stockings each year. Our Christmas shopping is now year-round as we’re always on the lookout for stocking-stuffers.

There was a fifth stocking hung this year and it was one that Lauren made for Vera, our live-in of sorts. I never know quite what to call Vera or how to describe our relationship. We sort of adopted her back when she and Jana were friends in junior high and she currently lives with us full time. I bring this up not because she now hangs her Christmas stocking next to ours, but to share the unique gift she made for Lauren. I scoffed at her idea when she first described it (I’ve got to stop doing this…remember when she taught us to peel a mushroom? I first thought that idea was silly, but now I don’t eat a mushroom without first peeling it and I’m a YouTube sensation – check out my video when you have a chance.) She came to me and said that she wanted to make Lauren a fairy door for Christmas. Does that not sound ridiculous? Not the “fairy” part, as Lauren believes in fairies, but the “door” part of it. It didn’t take long and she had me convinced it was a genius idea. All she needed to make the project were a few parts (a doll house door, hinges, handle, and door knocker), which she ordered online, some paint, and help from the “unwilling fairy carpenter” (her reference to Verne). Verne set aside plans for his projects and helped Vera with hers. It was a big success…all I want for Christmas next year is my own fairy door! Thanks, Vera, for always being so patient with us when we mock your ideas.

Now, on to Verne’s projects...apparently Verne has missed our Christmas gift exchange (read all about it in the previous blog post), because a few days before Christmas he decided to make each of the girls a gift. Just like old times: wait until the last minute when the barn (workshop) is a frigid 40 degrees and there’s no time to recover should he make a mistake. Well, he did it (almost). One of the scroll-sawed baby dragons was finished, wrapped, and under the tree Christmas Eve. The other was not quite that far along (I’m really not sure if he’d started it) and he ended up spending several hours Christmas Day finishing it. Actually, in fairness to Verne, he did get coerced into helping Vera with her project. It’s always surprising how much time these “simple” projects take. 

We spent most of Friday in Sacramento watching the final Hobbit film at the Imax theatre in 3D (we loved the movie and had a blast taking pictures while we waited for it to start)...

...shopping, and having a second Spaghetti Factory holiday dinner. Jana had missed the SoCal dinner the previous weekend and her Christmas holiday was not going to be complete without it. We willingly made the sacrifice and had a second Spaghetti Factory dinner in less than a week. We have thoroughly celebrated the season with Good Eats and Good Times and lots of love.

A Holiday Tradition

It has been a long tradition in our family that we all (his, mine, and ours) get together during the Christmas holiday. For ten consecutive years it was a weekend event full of fun and laughter, culminating in a gift exchange…not an ordinary gift exchange, though. Each gift had to be handmade by the giver for a specific family member whose name was drawn the prior year. The crafters in the family loved the holiday gift exchange; it was just another opportunity to get creative. But, not all members of our family are keen on crafting and for them the annual gift exchange was a yearlong source of anxiety and dread. Often (always) they would wait until the last minute to make their gift taking time out to call me with their complaints (because it was my idea - and in a fit of honesty, I will admit that Verne and the girls could often be counted among that number). By the big event, however, everyone agreed that it was all worthwhile. Even Scott, the biggest of the procrastinators, said that our Christmas exchange party was worth the 364 days of agonizing over the "damn gift."

Gifts ranged from simple to extraordinary…one of my all-time-favorites was Lauren’s gift to Scott: she spent the summer learning to use a scroll saw, practicing by making Christmas ornaments. Once she’d mastered the use of the saw, she cut a map of the United States with the states individually cut out, placed it on a wood background, used a drill press to cut shallow holes the size of a quarter along the borders as well as on or near each state (depending on the state’s size), bought a set of the new state quarters and placed them in the respective holes, and then framed the entire piece. It was unbelievably beautiful. Mega kudos, Lauren, for the most extraordinary gift of the decade. Actually, that particular project just came to mind, but there were so many wonderful, creative projects: quilts and other fiber arts, paintings, woodworking and metal, scrapbooking, mosaics, and more. I think ultimately everyone enjoyed the opportunity to set aside the daily routine and craft. Sometimes we need a little push to leave our comfort zone and do something new.

Life brings change and our families are now spread across the country with Scott in Seattle, Jeff in Connecticut, Lauren in Portland, and the other three daughters in Southern California. Three of the kids have their own children making it difficult to travel and be away from their homes for the holidays. Our annual gift exchange came to an end a few years ago and now it’s just our memories and stories that keep it alive. However, we do still attempt to get together in December, typically in SoCal since half of the kids reside there. This year Jeff and his family were in town and Lauren flew down from Portland, so the group was almost complete.

This past Sunday evening we enjoyed our 2014 holiday dinner with the family at the Spaghetti Factory in Fullerton. We have been going to the Spaghetti Factory for thirty years now. It all started when I planned the first holiday party for McKenzie & Company. It was 1984 and I had a new business and a new baby, so I needed an affordable venue and one that was kid-friendly. Spaghetti Factory fit the bill and we’ve been going there ever since. The food and setting is familiar (they attempted to change the menu once in the last three decades and it was met with an uprising) and service is excellent. Over the years it has become the place of choice for most of our large-party celebrations (birthdays and the like). And, as a bonus, Portland (where we visit Lauren at least quarterly) is home of the first of the chain with the restaurant located south of downtown on the Willamette River and is by far the most beautiful of all we’ve seen, including the charming Spaghetti Factory in Victoria. Yes, they are even found in Canada, but beware: the food is shockingly different!

I won’t go into too much detail about our three-hour family event this past weekend, but to say it was perfect! It’s always so heartwarming to see our children as parents. Even as responsible adults, though, I can still see the child in each of them as they get silly and laugh together uncontrollably. Example: Jeff and his family and Lauren taking a selfie (one of about fifty)…

Here are a few more random pictures taken that night that will help memorialize the most recent of a Moser family tradition…

Thanksgiving and More

My last blog post was before Thanksgiving and here it’s almost Christmas. Where has the time gone? Actually, it’s really not a lack of time that’s kept me from writing, but lack of inspiration. For the past several months we’ve been faced with one life challenge after another...not the kind of stuff that I particularly want to write about or share with others and certainly not in keeping with the “good eats or good times” suggested by the title of this blog. But then I was recently reminded how very fortunate we are as my sister-in-law gave me an update on her 14-year old grandson with Spinal Bifida. He just underwent his 17^th surgery and undoubtedly is facing that many more in his lifetime. The story of this brave young boy and his parents certainly put our family’s “challenges” into perspective…they are just that: challenges. We will each rise to the occasion and be a stronger, better person (and family) for it. So, here are the highlights of the past month…

Thanksgiving can be summed up in a single paragraph. We stayed home this year after spending the holiday in Portland the last three years. Both girls managed to get away from work and spend Thursday and Friday with us in Volcano. Our dear friend Cece drove over from Nevada and also spent the holiday with us. Our dinner was very traditional, just the way Cece and I like it! No pear basted turkey or pear dressing or pear gravy like we had the year I had a meltdown…I don’t remember that last part, but that’s their (Verne and the girls) story and they are sticking to it. We enjoyed a good old- fashioned meal the way my mother used to make it. She wasn’t a great cook, but I do remember her Thanksgiving and Christmas turkey dinners to be worth the wait. Anyway, why shouldn’t it be all about me and what I like? Jana is a vegetarian (no turkey or meat of any kind for her), Lauren doesn’t like turkey (so we also served Honey Baked Ham), and Verne will eat one piece of turkey to humor me, but he really doesn’t enjoy it (with or without pears). Bottom line, we had a simple, but delicious meal and a relaxing and loving day together.

(Black) Friday night we celebrated the girls’ birthday. We’d discussed dinner plans for at least a month and during that time had reservations first at Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse, then Biba’s (both in Sacramento), then they were changed to Taste in Plymouth. A few days before our celebration we all decided to keep it close and not waste time driving to Plymouth, so we changed our reservation to the Union Hotel (five minutes from home). At the last minute, Jana decided she really wanted Pine Grove Pizza (after all, she is the oldest by two years so should have first choice – “it’s my birthday” is a constant refrain). I called to order and found they were closed for the holiday. Dang! It was back to the Union. Dinner and service were perfect. We talked and laughed and cried over stories that have been told and retold for the last 25+ years. They just keep getting better.

Last week we were again together with the girls in So Cal and we enjoyed a belated celebration of Verne’s birthday. We started the day by walking across the street from Jana's home in Culver City to Bar 9, a trendy breakfast/lunch restaurant in an old warehouse. 

Jana’s gift to her Daddy was dinner at a new Italian restaurant in Culver City, Bucato. Wow! What an experience! They make their own bread, which was absolutely delicious, and their own pasta, which was equally amazing. If I had to choose just one item from the menu to order, it would be the Fried Cauliflower ‘Sicilian style’…or maybe the Squash Blossoms with goat cheese and mint…or the Crispy Polenta with wild mushrooms topped with a sunny side egg and Parmigiano Reggiano. Okay, I can’t choose just one item and I didn’t. I had all of the above and a taste of the other entrees, which were equally delicious. We finished the meal with a persimmon sticky pudding, chocolate torte, and fried fritters, which we ordered for Lauren, but sadly had to eat because they were filled with a crème anglaise. Once again Lauren’s food allergies were at play and forced the rest of us (primarily, me) to over indulge. We definitely have a new favorite restaurant!

During the holiday we were notified that our good friend, Neil McElroy, died from cancer. He celebrated his 90^th birthday in August and probably beat most statistics for Stage 4 Melanoma, which was diagnosed about seven years ago. He had a good life and we have a decade of shared memories of him, including several years of the “Grub Club” (our dinner group with four or five other couples), his childhood stories that he so vividly remembered (and shared), his love of old Western movies (that he also shared…sometimes to excess), dinners at Pine Grove Pizza, and his willingness to always watch the critters when we traveled. That reminds me…when we would return home from a trip, we’d find an elaborate spreadsheet on the counter that listed by day the number of eggs he’d collected sorted by color and size (small to extra large). It makes me smile to think about it…only Neil would do something like that. Sweet Neil…we’ll miss you!

    

Jam Ramblings

Having come full circle from learning to properly and safely make jams and jellies this past spring to having just taught a class to new MFP trainees on the subject, this seems like a good time to reflect on my canning (and other) experiences this year.

First of all, even after my 10-week training to become a master food preserver I was unclear about pectin, the primary thickening agent in jams and jellies. There are at most four basic ingredients in jams: fruit, sugar, acid and pectin. The first three are pretty obvious, so in preparation for my first teaching experience, I concentrated my effort on the last. After hours researching the subject, I’m certainly more informed, but still far from being an expert.

I began my study with a strong bias towards Pomona Pectin, which is used by most of today’s artisan jam makers. This low-sugar pectin has been around for about 30 years and to this day the company is family-owned and operated. It’s economical by comparison to some of the other pectins on the market and is about as natural as you can get short of making your own pectin from organic apples. This brings up a good point…during my first year of jam making, I was told time and again that pectin is a natural product. It turns out that statement is only partially true. Pectin, found in fruits and some vegetables, is natural. By the time it is processed into a fine powder and sold for jams, jellies, and a wide range of other products, it’s no longer quite so “natural”. Without a doubt, it contains pesticides and many brands contain other additives, including preservatives.

After all of my reading, I have a decent understanding of the science of pectin and why it is critical to follow the recipes that come with each product. Also, I’m now clear on the difference between high-sugar and low-sugar pectins. With that understanding has come a better appreciation for the part sugar plays in jam making. Initially, I was told that sugar was necessary for its preserving qualities. This turns out to be another partially true statement. It is actually the water bath processing that preserves the jam and makes it shelf-stable, not the sugar. If it were the sugar then low- and no-sugar jams would not be shelf-stable. However, as I’ve discovered first hand, sugar does play a big role once the jam is opened. Once opened full-sugar jam lasts for years in the refrigerator. At least, that’s been my personal experience. Not so with low- or no-sugar jam…the lower the sugar content, the shorter the life once opened. I had a opened jar of jam mold in less than a month.

Another half-truth I heard more than once: the quantity of sugar required by the recipe should never be altered. It turns out that this is true when working with high methoxyl (high-sugar) pectins, which require sugar to gel. However, it is not true for their sister low methoxyl pectins. Low-sugar pectin requires calcium to gel rather than sugar allowing the jam maker to reduce the amount of sugar to a range from below 50% to zero.

Sugar preserves color. This is an absolute! The strawberry jams I made for the class were made using different pectin brands. I ended up with about eight different products I took to the class for a tasting. Up to that point, I had not opened or tasted any of the jams. I lined up the jams from the highest sugar to the no-sugar product that contained Splenda. The contrast between jams was shocking. The full-sugar product was a beautiful glossy red as compared to the red-brown (almost a mauve) color of the low-sugar jams as compared to a very artificial looking pink-red color of the Splenda jam. A couple of people in the class took one look at the jam and declared the low-sugar products unappetizing…I had to agree! As for the taste, I believe the consensus was the fruity low-sugar product, despite the color, was the best. Since returning home with eight opened jars of jam, we have been eating them each morning in a race to beat the mold. Seen individually, the low-sugar jams are a very pretty pale (with brown tinges) color and have a very fruit-forward taste. I will avoid serving them along side a full-sugar jam, but then that’s not really a problem, because I refuse to make the latter. This photo shows the amount of sugar required for a classic or full-sugar jam (7/8 of a cup).

I can’t say that I’ve reached a definitive conclusion on which brand or type of pectin is best and the one and only I’ll be using in the future. I still have a half dozen unopened boxes of Pomona, so I’m not giving up on it. I am giving up and giving away my unused boxes of full sugar pectin. Surprisingly, I’ve found a Ball product to be very equivalent to the Pomona. It’s packaged in a jar that makes 22 half-pint jars of jam, it’s slightly more economical than Pomona, may be made in small batches from 2-10 jars at a time, and offers a great website with a flexible-batch calculator and plenty of recipes. Next year my jamming will include both Ball and Pomona and I’ll choose my favorite after I’ve made another couple hundred jars of jam.

As for other things I’ve learned during my 2014 jam journey…I love jelly! I love its clear, semi-transparency. I love how it shimmers and jiggles. And, most of all I love its intense taste. Next year will include jellies of every fruit and if I get that top-of-the-line dehydrator that’s on my Christmas list, there will be fruit leathers made from the pulp from all of my jellies. My technical savvy has also been expanded this year and I’ve learned to make a slide presentation using PowerPoint and been forced to go a bit beyond the basics with Word. All good skills. I’m sure this brings a smile to my truly technical savvy readers as my skills are still remedial, but I may get through 2015 without having to call on them for help.

One last thing I’ve learned…if I’m ever to get back to quilting, I’ll need to learn to say no. My involvement as an MFP this past six months has consumed my time. That combined with the disaster we’ve experienced in the cabin (my quilting studio) this past fall has kept me out of fabric stores (that’s probably a good thing), kept me from ordering must-have quilting books (also good), and kept me from finishing about a dozen projects that were promised by yearend (not so good). This week it’s back to the studio and my studio cat, Ernie. I still have a few weeks before the year ends and maybe I’ll be able to get one of those quilts in the queue completed and have something to report in the first StixChix blog post in months.

Half Moon Bay Experience

It was an eventful weekend with Saturday morning spent teaching a class on Jams and Jellies to a new group of MFP trainees. All of the searching and researching the subject (specifically pectin) and the dozen or so batches of strawberry jams and jellies made over the last several months came together in a presentation that was to last 1 ½  hours. I was worried about being able to spend more than ten minutes talking about the subject and instead I felt rushed and had to cut my presentation short. Oh well, I guess it’s all part of learning.

A little about the venue…the class was held in Half Moon Bay at the UC Cooperative Extension office located on the Elkus Ranch. The drive from Volcano to the coast reminded me of why I love California. In a matter of just four hours you can go from the peaks of the Sierra Nevada’s to the breathtaking coastline. The Ranch was donated by the Elkus family in the 70’s and today is used primarily as an environmental educational center for Bay-area children. It’s located in the coastal foothills at the southern end of town separated from the ocean by Highway 1. 

Typically, my participation in the MFP program will be local. I was originally asked to teach this class not because of my far-reaching reputation as a jammer (I have less than two years experience…not what I’d call “seasoned”), but due to the fact I was teamed up with a couple of women from Half Moon Bay who were attending the Amador/Calaveras MFP training class last spring. Their plan was to start the same program in the Bay area. I liked my teammates, Kathi and Chris, and offered to help with their program. Teaching the class was not a consideration when I offered to help. I was thinking more along the lines of working as kitchen help.  Anyway, that was last July.

We arrived Friday afternoon and had dinner at Mezza Luna, an Italian restaurant a short walk from Kathi’s home, where we were staying in her guest apartment. We are rarely spontaneous in our dining decisions and this was no exception. During our class time together, both of my new friends told me about the food at Mezza Luna after I described to them my attempt to make gnocchi.  Upon hearing the restaurant’s name, Vera, who was the fourth in our team, excitedly told me she’d eaten at Mezza Luna several times and loved the gnocchi. Interestingly enough, after we got home from the trip on Saturday afternoon, I talked to a friend who’d lived in Half Moon Bay for years and she too was very familiar with Mezza Luna and its gnocchi. It also turned out that she lived just up the street from Kathi and walked or biked to the marina almost daily passing the very house where we’d stayed. We were not disappointed with the restaurant. The gnocchi served in a Gorgonzola cream sauce was outstanding and the lasagna was also very good, second only to Biba’s in Sacramento.

We finished our evening catching up with Kathi and Chris and helping make galettes (we call them rustic tarts) for the feast they were preparing for the MFP graduation ceremony the following day. With a backyard full of her daughter’s FFA projects, including chickens, sheep, three turkeys (two after Thursday), a duck and a garage with a rabbit, we didn’t lack for conversation. It’s been over a decade since we’ve had a field full of critters, but our 4H experiences are still clear in our minds as well as the crazy stories of a psychopathic bull, being rammed by a ram, and on and on. That reminds me, I didn’t tell them about the skunk in the henhouse that I killed with wasp spray and rocks or the calf in the snow or the prolapsed ewe I had to shoot…something for next time.

On our return trip on Saturday, we stopped to visit with our niece, Susan, in San Lorenzo. I’ve been anxious to see her house renovations, which were just completed in October. The work was extensive, removing walls, redoing all electrical and insulation in the house, new kitchen cabinets and countertops, and the results were amazing. Her home could be featured in Sunset’s issue that focuses on living in small spaces. As is true of all working mothers, Saturdays are busy, and we had a three-hour drive ahead of us, so we kept our visit short. Here’s a favorite picture of Susan and Sophie as well as a couple I took during our visit. Not being prepared for a glam shot, I had to promise Susan I wouldn’t photograph her in her more natural state. That was okay with me, because I must have taken a couple of dozen photos of her little cutie.

We stopped in Jackson to pick up a few things at the market and ran into friends we hadn’t seen in over a year, Rita and Kai. After selling their home in Volcano they lived in our cabin (more recently, my quilting studio) for almost two years. By mid-December they’ll be moved to Santa Cruz and it is unlikely we’ll see them again. That old saying, “Distance makes the heart grow fonder” is certainly true. It was so good to see them both. We stood out in the cold in front of the store for over an hour before we said our goodbyes.

It was dark by the time we finally got home and settled back into our routine of going down to the barn and locking up the chickens, feeding the four cats (we’re still cat-sitting Jana’s two babies), having a cup of tea and bit of dessert, watching an episode or two of Grimm or one of our other favorites, and, for the first time in a while, looking forward to a good nights sleep. I’m not joking when I say that this whole MFP teaching project has kept me awake nights.

Next day…Damn! It was another restless night! What is going on with me? This time I was making a mental list of everything I’d done wrong at the class and also refining my thoughts on pectin and jam-making in general. This has got to stop! I’ve never thought of myself as obsessive, but my recent behavior is disturbing. I am going to write another blog post on the evolution of my jam-biases or something like that. It will be a brain-dump of my random thoughts on the subject and hopefully once that’s done I’ll get past this insomnia problem. If you’ve had a “gut full” (that’s Verne’s expression, not mine) of pectin and jam and jelly talk, then I suggest you skip the next post. Otherwise, read on…

A Final Goodbye

Goodbye, Leanne…you’ll always have a special place in my heart. Your life was far too short.

Leanne died this morning after a year and half battle with cancer. Her suffering is over. As she lived her life, she used her last months preparing for her death by thinking of her family. She worked on finishing projects (photo albums, embroidery, and other handiwork) for each of her children. I had the honor of helping her by completing a quilt for her daughter, Emma. What a beautiful testimony to family and motherhood.

The picture below is four generations: Leanne front and center, her mother and my sister, Judy, our mother and our grandmother. Born two months premature and weighing less than two pounds, all odds were against Leanne’s survival, but she was a fighter then just as she’s been these last several months.

This picture was taken just a few years ago around the same time she graduated from college. Sadly, she received her diploma in the mail the same week she was informed that she had breast cancer. This is how I’ll remember Leanne…beautiful and vibrant loving and being loved by her three children, sons Calib and Nathan, and daughter, Emma. She will be greatly missed.

Mustard Mission

It’s mid-November. Our birch trees are bare and their leaves are now piled high on the deck.  I just took this picture as a reminder of those beautiful, yellow leaves, because Verne is about to get out the blower and remove every last one in preparation for rain tomorrow. They are impossible to remove after a hard rain (even a light rain), not to mention they become a slippery (and hazardous) mess. This has been our routine for at least a decade now and is the result of a compromise after years of disagreeing on the timing of the raking or brooming of fall leaves (more recently, blowing of leaves). I love to watch the leaves fall from the trees and accumulate on the deck. Like pumpkins, it screams: Autumn! While Verne doesn’t need the extra work of removing the leaves multiple times (God knows, 40 acres keeps the man busy), he was always determined to do it at least two or three times during October-November until about ten years ago when we reached a compromise: the first sign of rain determines the timing for leaf blowing. End of discussion.

What does this have to do with the title: Mustard Mission? The color, of course! The mustard color of the leaves reminded me of our experience last week…making and canning our own mustard. I know a few of you are shaking your heads right now (Sally, in particular). While we both love mustards of all kinds, we really never intended to take on the condiment as a canning project. However…one of my jobs with the Master Food Preservers program is to coordinate public classes. Our November class was one called Holiday Favorites and included an overly ambitious agenda of canned and dehydrated items. As the date neared, I checked with the presenters to see if any needed help preparing their items. Never did I expect my offer to be accepted, but it was and the project was to make two of the three mustards that would be demonstrated: Cranberry Mustard and Octoberfest Beer Mustard, both prepared and then water bath processed.

I read the recipes and was pleased that there was no need to make the 30-minute drive to town…we had everything needed to make both mustards. I’m so obsessed with Penzey’s Spices that it’s rare that I don’t have just the right spice for the job. In this case, we needed powdered mustard and both yellow and brown mustard seeds. Check. Fresh cranberries (I repurposed the cranberries I’d just purchased that week for a conserve). Check. Beer (Verne always keeps a supply of Deschutes Pale Ale in the fridge). Check. We started by soaking the seeds in the liquid (vinegar for the one and beer for the other) for a couple of hours and then proceeded to grind the moistened mustard seeds into a grainy paste, mix it with the other ingredient, and simmer until it was reduced by about one-third; taste (that was our idea); jar and water-bath process. As it turns out that next-to-the-last step, “taste”, was a big mistake. Here’s my warning to anyone making mustard: DO NOT TASTE THE MUSTARD AT THIS POINT!

The beer mustard in particular was unbelievably bitter! It was inedible to say the least. I wouldn’t have given it to my worst enemy, let alone a group (32 people attended the event) of strangers. Well, we canned the Cranberry Mustard as it was tolerable, but the failure went down the disposal. It wasn’t even fit to give to the chickens! I have to say it’s often the mess-ups that prove to be the most valuable learning experiences. A little too late, I sat down at my computer and began to research homemade mustard. It didn’t take long to learn that one should never taste the mustard immediately after making it. Why? Because the natural enzymes in the mustard seeds are activated when the seeds are crushed and combined with water or other liquids and are most potent and bitter when freshly prepared. Apparently, warm water de-activates the enzymes and breaks down some of the pungent compounds, whereas cold water keeps them intact. Likewise, vinegar produces a more mellow product than a full-flavored beer.  We’ll never know if our Octoberfest Beer Mustard would have mellowed had we waited those two or three days. It does appear that we did everything right to produce a full-flavored mustard that packs a powerful punch if that’s the objective! I doubt that we’ll be trying our hand at another beer mustard any time soon. However, the third mustard in the trio was delicious and I plan to make it: Wine Sage Mustard. It was a pale yellow color with bits of minced sage leaves and a base of white wine. Yum!

Here’s a few other things I’ve learned about making mustard. Mustard is about as simple to make as jam. There are just two essential ingredients: mustard powder (or seeds) and a liquid to bind the spice. Its heat is directly related to the type of seed used: yellow (sometimes called white) is the mildest, brown and black seeds are much hotter and more pungent. The liquid used to bind the mustard may add flavor and additional heat or pungency based on the liquid’s reaction to the enzymes. The mildest mustards and longest lasting are made with yellow mustard seeds and lots of vinegar, while the hottest mustards are made with the darker seeds and use beer as a liquid base. Mustards last for months in the refrigerator, although they will tame over time and lose much of their pungency within about six months whether they are homemade or commercially produced. I’ve heard people say and read various internet sources that suggest mustard is shelf stable without water bath processing. This is absolutely NOT TRUE! Freshly made mustard either needs to be refrigerated or water bath processed to make it shelf-stable. Don’t believe everything you read (with the exception of my Blog)! Oh, one more thing...ground yellow mustard seeds are a beautiful pale shade of yellow. It is the addition of turmeric that gives French's mustard it's brilliant yellow color.

This mission is far from complete. Expect more about mustard in the future…

A Jelly Journal

Maybe I should rename this blog post “Watch Your Step”…I wrote it two weeks ago, but before I could post it and before Verne and I made our trip to Half Moon Bay where I was to teach a class on Jams and Jellies, I took a tumble and have been house-ridden ever since. To make a long story short, I stupidly walked into the cabin bathroom during its renovation (“renovation” is probably a poor choice of words as it suggests we had a choice here; the bedroom and bathroom floors and part of the walls have been demolished in order to repair extensive damage done by an infestation of powder beetles and dry rot) and fell through the open floor. A 2”x6” floor joist kept me from falling through to the basement. I’d like to think the resulting damage to my body was less than had I fallen through to the floor below, but those positive thoughts haven’t eased the pain.  I left the house for the first time yesterday (eight days since the accident) and thought I’d die before I could get back home to the couch. This recovery may take longer than expected. On a positive note, I feel great when I’m standing so our fall preserving (pears, citrus, cranberries) will continue.

Here’s my original blog post written before my mishap…

Jelly Making - Day 1:

Have I mentioned lately that I love to can? I’m writing this while I wait for the water in the canner to come up to temp. I’m getting ready to process my first batch of real jelly. I say “real”, because my first and only experience was during my MFP training in the spring when we made grape jelly from commercial unsweetened grape juice, rather than real Concord grapes. Although it was loaded with sugar (7 cups to 5 cups of juice), the taste and texture were perfect and it would have fooled any Welch’s grape jelly aficionado. That reminds me of a little jelly trivia I learned recently…during World War II grapelade, developed by a man named Welch in 1918, along with sliced bread (also invented around that same time) and peanut butter were included in soldiers’ rations. The peanut butter and jelly sandwich was born. Extremely popular amongst the troops, when soldiers returned home after the war they demanded more of the grapelade. Today, Welch’s grape jelly out sells all other jellies.

Back to today’s canning project and the reason I’m making jelly, something I swore I’d never do. You may remember that I agreed to teach an October class on jams and jellies to new MFP trainees. I’ve been anxiously preparing for the class, both academically (hours of research and a written PowerPoint presentation) as well as practically (hours in the kitchen testing different pectins by making batch after batch of strawberry jam). The Moser Test Kitchen has turned out well over 50 jars of the stuff (I’ve stopped counting) and given away most of it. However, this is a jams and jellies class…emphasis on the jellies. I’ve put off making jelly because, frankly, I’ve felt for a long time that jelly is just a cheater jam without the chunks of fruit. It’s a jam wannabe for sissies. Joking aside (actually, there’s truth in most jokes), Welch’s grape jelly is about my only experience with the product and I have been biased against jelly making since I started jamming two years ago. But, how could I teach a group of trainees without having at least once experienced jelly making?! Thus, our jelly-making project today.

In keeping with the theme (strawberries) Saturday morning Verne and I got up early and went in search of fresh strawberries. I’d noticed a few weeks ago that a couple of fields in the Clements area (a good hour from home) had been replanted with a fall crop and were close to picking. We arrived at the Clements Ridge Produce stand to find strawberries for sale. I took that as a good sign. We came home with six boxes of freshly picked berries and this morning we got up and completed the second step of the process (the first was finding the berries): boiling the fruit for 10 minutes and then placing it in a jelly bag, which allows it to drip over a bowl for several hours. Pressing or squeezing the mixture to speed up the process is a no-no, as the jelly will cloud. Here are a few pictures of this initial step.

The rest of the jelly-making process is the same as making jam, just a little more foam to skim before the beautiful, clear jelly is ladled into the jars. I'm calling it "bubble scum"...a new term for jammers!

It was beginning to gel before we put the jars into the canner - that’s good news (maybe). What we’re after is a clear jelly that jiggles when moved, yet holds its shape when removed from the jar. I’m hoping we have a winner. What fun! And, I can now say I’ve made jelly from scratch.

Jelly Making - Day 2:

I was up early this morning excited about trying our strawberry jelly. For you readers who are not a trained food preserver, jams or jellies must sit for a minimum of 12 hours after being removed from the water bath canner. The point of this waiting period is to allow the product to completely cool (naturally) and hopefully assure a good seal. Well, the seal was perfect, but the jelly was not. It was clear and would most definitely hold its shape when removed from the jar, if, in fact, it could be removed from the jar. It was solid. I shook the jar looking for the jiggle, but there was no movement at all. Our first attempt at making jelly was a failure! Disappointed!!!!

Jelly Making - Day 3:

Two hours round trip drive to Clements Ridge Produce stand for more strawberries and we were back in the kitchen by noon for another try at making jelly. We’d made our first batch with Pomona Pectin, a product I’m determined to love, so rather than trying another pectin, like Sure Jell or Ball, we decided to give Pomona another try. This time, though, we reduced the amount of pectin by 25% hoping that alone would give us a softer gel. Also, in discussing our failure we suspected that we’d boiled the jelly a bit too long after adding the sugar and pectin. The directions said to bring the fruit to a boil, add the sugar and pectin, and bring back to a boil. That last step should take no more than 1-2 minutes. Apparently, we didn’t bring it to an “angry” boil the first time, because it took about 5 minutes to return to a boil. Hmmmm…I’m finding it’s the little things that cause the flops when making jams and jellies.

Jelly Making - Day 4:

Again, we were up early and anxious to try our strawberry jelly. The seal was good and the color looked great. I opened a jar and spooned some onto a plate…it was perfect; blue ribbon quality! It is clear, holds its shape, jiggles when moved, and as an added bonus the taste is amazing…pure strawberry goodness. Success! I now feel like I have the creds to teach Saturday’s class.

P.S. I’m again adding this to my original blog entry. It’s probably apparent, but I’ll tell you anyway…I didn’t get to teach the Saturday class of new trainees in Half Moon Bay, because I spent my Saturday flat on my back in bed drugged out on pain meds. 

All Hallow's Eve by Lauren Moser

Our youngest daughter, Lauren, writes at least one poem a week for her friends at the Multnomah County Courthouse where she works. This one is particularly timely. We're hoping that if her law career doesn't pay off, she may be the next Shel Silverstein!

Hear this warning, one and all,

We have entered middle fall,

That wicked, dangerous time of year,

When blood will curdle from the fear,

Of ghoulies, ghosties, things that crawl,

Things that slither or cast a pall,

Over groups, when you're alone,

There is no safety, even at home.

Shut the door, turn on the lights,

Make sure to stay awake all night.

Tomorrow is All Hallow's Eve,

A night of revelry and evil deeds.

There is no haven in the woods,

Nor in your local neighborhoods.

Some have tried a local church,

But that is where the devils search.

Perhaps you'll go to a cemetery,

But the dead may rise - I wouldn't tarry.

I would share with you my hiding place,

No. It must stay secret, it must stay safe.

I say to you "Good luck on Halloween,"

Whether you survive remains to be seen.

An Entertaining Weekend in So Cal

We’ve spent much of the last month living out of our suitcases with trips to Missouri, Portland, and this past weekend, Southern California.  It’s always easy for us to set a date and plan a trip, but as the time nears we often regret making the commitment as we’re both basically homebodies. Not that we don’t enjoy ourselves when we’re spending time with family in each of these areas, but our favorite place is right here in Volcano living on the prettiest 40 acres in Amador County. It just doesn’t get any better than this!

Well, daughters and grandchildren were looking forward to our visit so we made the trip and had a great time despite ourselves. Our first stop was Santa Monica to have dinner with Jana on Friday night. We met at Penzey’s, just a short walk from the restaurant, and had fun buying a few new spices, including three different curry powders. The restaurant, Mercado’s, was one Jana took us to on a previous visit and was my choice this time, rather than Musha’s, where we normally dine on our first night in town. Why did I choose Mercado? Because (1) the food is amazing and (2) I wanted one of their signature cucumber margaritas that I foolishly didn’t try when we were last there. We try to experiment with new restaurants and food with each visit, but some are just too good to not repeat and this was one with its very contemporary take on Mexican food. For example, Tacos de Papa (rajas mashed potatoes, cabbage, crema fresca, queso fresco, arbol salsa…simply put, mashed potato tacos). They were delicious! We’d made dinner reservations, but arrived early and after trying a half-dozen small plate items from the Happy Hour menu as well as the best flan I’ve ever eaten, we were stuffed and cancelled our later reservation. It was still early, so we walked around downtown Santa Monica and browsed in the shops that were still open. I have to admit, I’m quick to “So Cal Bash” and feel I have a legitimate basis for it having previously lived in Orange County for over twenty years, but Santa Monica is really beginning to grow on me. It’s so unlike anything I ever experienced in the more inland counties.

Jana and her Best Daddy Ever…

We spent Saturday a little further south in the San Bernardino County area at Raelin and Aaron’s home.  We often get together at a kid-friendly restaurant, like the Spaghetti Factory, when we visit. It’s fun, but a noisy restaurant is not always conducive to visiting. Being slightly (Verne would scoff and call this a gross understatement) hearing-impaired, I find that I hear a fraction of the conversation and only what is immediately spoken around me. Visiting at Raelin and Aaron’s house this time instead was perfect for all of us. Quiet, by comparison to a restaurant, home-cooked Good Eats (slow-cooked pulled pork), beautiful weather for outdoor seating, and plenty of space for three little energetic boys to romp and play until they were exhausted. It was fun seeing them in their own environment. Sam, the oldest, entertained us with his hula hoop tricks and Jana and a few other adults gave it a try. It brought back memories of when I was 10-years old and enjoyed my first hula hoop spending hours mastering the tricks, like bringing it up from the waist over the arms and around the neck. Sam’s hoops were weighted, adding a new challenge. Kendall, 14-years old and our only granddaughter, joined the fun and entertained us with her Colorguard routine. A freshman in high school, this is her first year in Colorguard, but is already very good with her flag. As the saying goes, pictures are worth a thousand words, so I’m going to include several rather than droning on and on and on...

Most of the gang…

Jana mastering the hula hoop…

Kendall and a partial routine…

A Day in Court and a New Favorite Portland Eatery

It’s officially Autumn! This is my favorite time of year with cool, crisp mornings and mildly warm days. The trees are beginning to turn and the deck is already lightly scattered with yellow leaves. It’s about time to break out the winter clothes and boots, put away the canning paraphernalia, think about heavier, slow-cooked meals (like beef bourguignon), and make plans for the holidays.

We returned from our trip to Missouri and were home just long enough to do laundry and repack our suitcases for a trip to Portland. This was our fourth year attending the Northwest Quilt Expo and it was as inspirational as ever. My Santa Barbara quilting friends, Sally and Sandy, flew up for the show and, of course, a little fabric shopping at two of our favorite shops. However, the inventory was marginal compared to last year’s truckload sale and the discounts weren’t exceptional. Although disappointed, they still managed to fill a couple of suitcases with their purchases.

The day before our company arrived we visited Lauren’s work at the Multnomah County Courthouse in downtown Portland. I have to say this was the highlight of our trip. We have been hearing stories about the Courthouse and Judge Bloch and Joanne, the judicial assistant, for almost two years now. Our trips to Portland are always packed with lots to do and we’ve never found time (actually, we’ve never taken time) to visit her work and meet her work family. We arrived at the Courthouse just before lunch and started our tour by going through visitor’s security. I was carrying my purse that was crammed with all kinds of extraneous stuff (you know how it is when you travel) and it must have taken five inspections of my bag and twenty minutes to get the go-ahead. A bit embarrassing as the guard scanned my belongings for explosives and other contraband, but I am comforted that they’re so careful. After all, my baby spends a good portion of her life there and sometimes encounters some pretty unsavory characters.

We toured the first floor and then gradually made our way upstairs to the fifth floor where she works. Judge Bloch and Joanne were there to greet us, all of us happy to make each others acquaintance. I’m sure they’ve heard as many stories as we have and were curious about their clerk’s parents. Lauren took us into the jury room (where she sometimes has her lunch), through the judge’s chambers, and into the courtroom, where her desk sits directly below the judges’ bench. Unless court is in session, she has the room to herself to read and research, write memos and opinions, and on a slow day, call her mommy or chat with friends she’s made in the courthouse. It was a great experience.

Lauren planned lunch for us at a Courthouse-favorite downtown restaurant, The Picnic House (www.picnichousepdx.com). We decided to drive even though she said it was only four or five blocks. She walks all over Portland and her estimates are sometimes a bit skewed. The last “short walk” with her must have been a good mile, so she’s proven herself to be untrustworthy. Her choice of restaurants couldn’t have been better, though. It’s our new favorite! We’d give it four stars or forks or whatever ranks it among the best. The food was outstanding (I had a curry pumpkin soup that was incredible), the décor and ambience charming, and the service couldn’t have been better. I can’t wait to go back.

We love Portland. To think Lauren could have gone to law school in Florida…it makes me shudder. Attending Lewis and Clark and then remaining in Oregon to work was one of her better decisions. It has especially been good for us, because we get to visit her several times a year, experience all that makes Portland wonderful (and weird), and then return to sunny California and all of its goodness. The best of both worlds!

P.S. We stopped by the Portland Police Department hoping to see Nick Burkhardt, detective and local Grimm, but he was out chasing Wesen. Hopefully, next time.

Family Historian

Genealogy has never held any interest for me. Not even a little bit. Today, however, I hold a new title, Family Historian, and am responsible for the completion of the search for our ancestors that was started several years ago by my niece, Leanne. We just returned from a trip to visit her in Eldon, Missouri. Loving all things having to do with history, Leanne started this project several years ago and has one family line traced back to the 1600’s. She’s filled several binders with her research notes and findings. About 18 months ago, Leanne’s work on the genealogy project as well as her continuing education at a local college came to an abrupt halt when she was informed that she had breast cancer. After months of chemotherapy and a double mastectomy, the cancer has spread to her liver. Despite her weakened condition and constant pain, Leanne has bravely used the last few months to put pictures in albums for her three children and frame keepsakes she’s preserved over the last thirty years. If you’ve read my quilting blog, www.stixchix-stix.blogspot.com, then you’re familiar with the quilting blocks Leanne sent to me that were made by my grandmother on my father’s side, Grandma Wier. She saved these blocks and another quilt top from the trash bin years ago with intentions to complete them at some point. I’ve spent the last few weeks finishing the first quilt, shown below with the recipient, Leanne’s 12-year daughter Emma, and have returned from our trip with a second beautiful example of Grandma’s handwork that I plan to quilt in the next few months.

While I’ve never really been interested in old quilts, I have to admit working with my grandmother’s quilt blocks sparked an interest in me. Not so much about old quilts, but about the person who spent hours each day foregoing housework to sit with her cats and crochet, embroider, or hand appliqué her quilt blocks and then even more time assembling the blocks and hand-quilting her final creation. I’ve been told more than once that she was a terrible housekeeper. I say: who cares? The woman had her priorities straight! She lives on through these quilts and crocheted bedspreads. For the first time in my life, I feel a connection to this person who was long dead when I was born. 

While in Eldon we stayed with Leanne’s in-laws in their beautiful farmhouse in the heart of Amish (actually, Mennonite) country. My sister (and Leanne’s mother) Judy had been staying in Leanne’s home, but joined us there at night along with my other sister, Jane, who drove up from her home in Arkansas to spend the weekend with the family. We’ve made trips to this area before and have memorable experiences driving through the Lake of the Ozarks and actually visiting an Amish home where quilts were made and sold and then corresponding with the owner, Vera, for several years after. It’s like a step back in time to see the women with bonnets and wearing long dresses riding bikes or driving horse-pulled buggies with young replicas of themselves sitting in the back. The weather was beautiful during our visit, but all thoughts of living in Missouri (just joking) were dashed by the stories told of ice storms that stripped trees of their branches, mosquitoes, and cesspools.

We’re home for a couple of days and then off to Portland for another adventure at the annual Northwest Quilting Expo. This will be our fourth year attending the event, which has become a family and friends tradition.