Gooseberry Patch Recipe 1--And It "was actually good"

So this is my first recipe from the Gooseberry Patch's Slow Cookers, Casseroles & Skillets.
This is part of the Real Farmwives of America "In the Kitchen with Gooseberry Patch" project.
Over the next couple of months, I'll be blogging 10 recipes from this book, then giving away a copy.




Now, I know that's a rather pathetic-sounding title for this blog. But, I felt like I had to quote The Husband's review of the "Hannah's Lemon Chicken & Bows" I made last night.
Actually, his full review went something like this:
The Husband:  "This was actually good."
Me:  "What's that supposed to mean?"
The Husband:  "Well, some of the stuff you come up with isn't... (thinking carefully now)  so great. Kinda weird, sometimes."
Thanks...

Yeah, I'm not afraid to try new recipes all the time now and then to liven up the boring meals around here... And (sniff) they aren't always appreciated by my chicken nugget-eating family...
Let me tell you, I don't see anybody losing weight at my house, so my culinary creations can't be that bad.
But, I digress... Let's get back to the recipe:

Hannah's Lemon Chicken & Bows

Most of the ingredients are pretty basic items, except, maybe the lemon.

I started with some basic ingredient preparations, which means...

Get your daughter to start zesting a lemon, chopping onions and cutting the chicken.

Saute the onion and garlic in a skillet with the olive oil.

When they've cooked a few minutes, add the cubed chicken breasts.

Now is the time to start the water boiling for the bow tie pasta.

Next add the basil and half the lemon juice

Meanwhile, get the lemon sauce started by melting a stick of butter.

Then add the flour to thicken.

Keep stirring that chicken and the sauce.

(This is where the kids come in really handy!)

When the sauce is thick and bubbly, add the chicken stock and the rest of the lemon juice.

Keep stirring.

Finally, when the chicken is cooked, the pasta is done and the sauce is ready,

combine them all and serve. 

With a couple of family members who are sauce-averse, I don't usually combine

these types of dishes until I they are a proven favorite.

(Yes, we're that family that eats mashed potatoes without even thinking about gravy.)

Ultimately, the lemony sauce was very good (even The Husband said so!).

But, there was an awful lot for us. Next time, I would cut the sauce recipe in half.

(Actually, I'm going to try to freeze the remaining half, so this dish will be even easier to whip up next time!)

I served it up with a side of steamed broccoli, on-sale cherries and sliced plums.

This meal is definitely a do-over.

Thanks for the fine folks at Gooseberry Patch, who provided two copies of this cookbook to me. Stay tuned, because after a cook a few, I'll be giving one away!

What Was I Thinking??

That little voice in my head kept speaking to me:

"Don't do it, gal."

"You'll wish you hadn't."

"You are an idiot in motion."

And, against my better judgement, I hushed that little voice, and I did it anyway.
I gave in.
Call it peer pressure... Wishful thinking... Losing touch with reality...
I accepted a bag full of Amish Friendship Bread starter stuff from a co-worker.

What was I thinking?
Have you ever done this before?
I haven't in quite a few years. And now I remember why.
I think I had a little moment, as I stood there in the office, that over took my sensibility when I thought, "Oh, the girls will think this is fun!"

In case you aren't familiar with it, the Amish Friendship Bread is a bag of sugar, flour, milk and yeast (maybe some other stuff if I go look at the recipe) that someone pawns off on shares with you, so you can make your own endless supply of bread.

The problem is:  It comes with a schedule that requires regular kneading and adding and burping.
Ugh.
Just what I need:  High-maintenance food. That I have to feed no less!
It's like having another pet in the house.

The worst of it is:  You have to do all this stuff on a schedule and, inevitably, the day I'm supposed to add lots more ingredients and divide it four ways, then bake one portion, is the day we get home late because oldest daughter has a track meet (in the rain) and everyone has homework (including me!). And I couldn't care less about baking some bread.
Now, I've just added Bread Guilt to the baggage in my life.

Let's just say it didn't happen again this time. And now I have a five-day-over-due bag o' goo loitering on my counter top.
My question to any of you out there who has done this:  It is too late? Can it be revived/saved?
Or should I just give up and throw it out?

Great. Now I have Food Waster Guilt on my baggage list.

Spring: Part of the Cycle of Life

All of my Real Farm Wives of America bloggy pals are celebrating spring today with posts themed "Cycle of Life." After all, who understands the cycle of life more than those who live and work in agriculture. Tending to life's beginnings (plowing, planting, birthing, hatching) and endings (harvesting, milking, butchering, processing) are the essential components of life on a farm.

Before I tell you about how I learned about the realities of the Cycle of Life when I was a kid, I want to share with you the first signs of spring at our house: The inaugural flower of the season. Seemed appropriate to share this today, since I missed out on Wordless Wednesday this week.

As I've mentioned before, I grew up on a small farm. While my parents both worked full-time in town to make ends meet, they both obviously appreciated life on the farm--or at least faked it pretty well. They both grew up with parents who farmed, and wanted the four of us kids to grow up understanding and appreciating where our food came from. And participating in the process.

Even when we were little, we'd help gather eggs, which we'd wipe off with rags in the kitchen, and package up in bulk cartons to deliver to the local grocery store. (PLEASE NOTE: I am NOT as old as this makes me sound. I want to point out how much agriculture has changed in a very short amount of time. This was not uncommon practice in small towns in the 1970s!)

I learned even more about chickens when time came for butchering some of the birds for meat. Now, I don't think my parents did this themselves, in the side yard by the house, because they particularly enjoyed it. They did it out of economic necessity.

Let me just say: Take a moment to be thankful that Modern Agriculture has made poultry neatly wrapped in cellophane available in our grocery stores or farmers markets at an affordable price. Because that was when I learned that food production can be ugly and is not for the faint-of-heart. Wringing necks and plucking chickens is, fortunately, something most of us do not have to do ourselves any more. But it was part of life.

I guess that early exposure helped me understand that this had to happen for our family to eat--not much different from the time spent in the garden planting corn and cucumbers and greenbeans, which later needed to harvested and canned or frozen. Similar story for when it was pig-processing day at my grandparents' house. This was the cycle of life.

The fact that we spent time feeding and caring for the pigs and chickens, and later cows and goats, on our farm helped us understand the value of life. These animals had to be cared for as best we could. They were to be fed and watered every day before we, the people, ate. Caring for the animals came first--even before homework after school. They weren't pets, we had those. These creatures were valued even more for what they provided to our family in the form of food and income.

My dad felt strongly that we understand this was serious business. While the chicks were cute when they were little and yellow (hatched in the corner of my parents' bedroom in an incubator), they had purpose. He reinforced that message when I started raising rabbits. They weren't pets. They were a source of food, or a few bucks if we sold some at the sale barn.

That's why dad made me butcher my own rabbits. Yeah, those cute little furry creatures I had cared for myself. I still remember Dad telling me, "This is circle of life. If you're going to work in agriculture, you have to know how it works." He wanted to raise strong daughters, who could provide for themselves and who respected their resources.

I think he succeeded. Not sure I realized it at the time, but I do now.
Thanks to my dad, I have perspective that I think a lot of folks today are missing. Not that I think everyone needs to butcher their own food to appreciate it. I do think finding a way to be involved in this cycle of life can make a person more aware of--and grateful for--the food we eat.

Happy spring, everyone!
Be sure to stop by and visit the other Farmwives!