Brooding On

The Whole Sha-Bang!

You know what they say:  waste not, want not
We as Americans don't seem to ascribe to this philosophy, though.  I read a sobering statistic that stated that despite all of our mothers reminding us to remember the poor starving children in Africa as we push our peas around our plates, nearly 40% of food produced in the U.S. is wasted.  It either isn't "pretty" enough to make it to the shelves, gets tossed during processing, goes bad in our own refrigerators, or is tossed from grocery store shelves after its "best by" date.  As a whole, we are waste-ers, yet we still want for nothing.  We take most of our resources for granted.

Homesteading, even on a small scale, has a way of exposing that error and reteaching us the value of the resources God has given us.  Take for example, the chicken.  I can tell you this: since we've been raising our own chickens in the backyard, slaughtering them with our own hands, and cooking them in our kitchen, we've wasted not a single shred of their meat. 

Understandable, right?  I mean, we didn't research and select the perfect breed, rejoice in the chicks arrival, settle them into the warm brooding box, feed them daily, watch them grow, laugh at their antics, research humane slaughter practices, employ those practices with our own knives and hands, package, freeze, thaw, and cook them only to let the leftovers go bad in the fridge and become food for the garbage disposal.  I mean, those chickens were intended to feed us! 

Just because we may not always see the process involved with the production of our food, this is all still true -- it was intended to feed us.  Out of respect for the system God put in place to feed us, the animals that give their lives to do so, and the people involved in the production of our foods, we ought to strive to minimize our waste. 

All of this ranting eventually brings me to this:  today I was able to make use of some of the chicken parts that we don't eat -- wasting them not, if you will.

If I'm not cooking a bird whole, I'll thaw it and then cut it into its 8 traditional pieces:  2 thighs, 2 legs, 2 breasts, and 2 wings.  That leaves me with the back.  Ever considered a chicken back?  When you look at one skinned, you can see that it does actually have some meat on it, but it's just so hard to get to.

As I cut the back out of a bird, I throw it back into the plastic storage bag and back into the freezer from whence it came.  Today, once I had collected 4-5 chicken backs, I used them to make chicken broth, using my usual recipe
For basically the cost of a couple of celery stalks and carrots, I was able to make use of chicken parts that would otherwise have been thrown out.  (Sidenote:  You can also use the neck and/or bones leftover from other recipes.) 
I usually freeze my broth, but I've been in such a canning mood lately that I decided to put some up in jars to use on those days when I've not had the forethought to thaw out any broth.  I used both quart and pint jars because my go-to bean recipes call for either 4 or 6 cups of broth, so this way I can use either just a quart for the 4 c. recipes or a quart and a pint for the 6 c. recipes.  (We've gotten into a pattern of having some type of beans every Monday -- it's a carryover from our New Orleans days!)

To can broth, you need a pressure canner.  Fill hot, sterilized jars with hot, freshly prepared broth, allowing 1" headspace.  Add lids and rings and process for 25 minutes at 10 lbs. of pressure.

Voila!  Chicken broth at-the-ready in your pantry.  And, it comes complete with that warm, fuzzy feeling you get from knowing that you made use of the whole sha-bang, (or chicken, in this case.  :)

Canning Craze!

Despite the blood, sweat, and tears involved (okay, no tears yet, but blood and sweat, for sure), I can't seem to get enough of canning!  In fact, I just completed my second canning project of the day. 
I'm making good use already of my new metal bowls.  Heretofore, the bowls on the right were the only mixing bowls we owned.  They are great and get lots of use, but they weren't cutting it for this homesteader-in-training.  I went this morning (at 7:40am -- yes, they were open that early) to visit my neighbor/church family member at his restaurant supply company and purchased 2 of these 16 qt. metal mixing bowls.  I love them!

Tonight, I canned some more Cinnamon Pears for Little Boy.  I asked Girl 2 whether she'd like to try some, but she was skeptical.  Little Boy tried to convince her, "They REALLY good!  They like marshmallows and cinnamon and cookies!"  She was sold (and who wouldn't be?)  And, guess what?  She's a big fan, too.  I made them just like we did in my canning club meeting, only I did chunks instead of slices and opted to leave out the food coloring.

I'm on such a canning kick and still have several recipes I plan to try.  In fact, I thought about making this "Canning Week" on the blog and can something different everyday.  It became apparent today, though, that "Canning Week" would also be "Neglect-Your-Preschooler Week," so we may have to space things out a bit.  But, be warned, there will be more canning in this blog's near future!

Que Es "Mincemeat"?

At my canning club meeting last week, we canned cinnamon pears.  The process was pretty straightforward and the result, yummy.  But, on the table at the meeting, there was some of this.

I was checking it out when another club member informed me that it was mincemeat. Mincemeat?  I didn't exactly know what it was, and I was not eager to find out.  As I headed back to my seat, though, some of the other ladies swarmed and pretty much demanded that I try it.  How bad could it be, I thought; after all, it's got cream cheese and a cracker to cut the taste. 

It was DELICIOUS!

I immediately asked for the recipe. 

Now, mincemeat is sometimes made without meat (as this one was), but it does usually involve some type of beef or beef suet (suet, according to this website, is the hard fat around the kidneys of an animal and is frequently used in British fare).   Mincemeat is British cuisine, so I realize it's weird that I used Spanish in the title of this post. It's just that mincemeat was so foreign to me, it may as well have been a foreign language, and Spanish is the only one I know a little of ;)

I knew immediately that I planned to make some of this stuff for myself when I got home and that I might even give some as Christmas gifts.  But, the name had to go.  Would anyone even bother opening up a jar of "Pear Mincemeat"?  Further research revealed the the term "chutney" has become so widespread that so long as it involves fchopped fruit and spices, it qualifies. 

So, here's my recipe for "Pear Chutney."

Ingredients:
7 lbs. ripe pears (Thanks, Angela, for trading me some goat milk for some pears!)
1 lemon
2 lbs. raisins
6 3/4 c. sugar
1 Tbs. cloves
1 Tbs. cinnamon
1 Tbs. nutmeg
1 Tbs. allspice
1 tsp. ginger
1 c. vinegar

(Sugar was on sale this week, so I bought 4 bags!  I figure, since I didn't have to pay for my pears, this probably came out to about $.70 per jar.  Not bad! 

Peel, quarter, and core pears.  Peel and quarter lemon, removing seeds.   
Put pears, lemon, and raisins through food processor or chopper. 

Combine with the remaining ingredients in a large pot and bring to a boil over medium heat (be sure to stir frequently to prevent scorching the sugar on the bottom of the pan).  Simmer for 40 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Meanwhile, go feed the pear peels and cores to the chickens! 

Pour, boiling hot, into hot pint jars, leaving 1/4" headspace.

Wipe rims clean, add lids and rings.



Process 25 minutes in boiling water bath.

Remove and allow to cool, listening for the PING!
The recipe suggested it would yield 9 pints.  I got 8 pints.  (Yes, I realize there are only 7 in the photo.  I didn't process one jar and put it straight into the fridge for us to have with dinner tonight.)


Mmmmm. Pears!

Thursday evening, I enjoyed my 2nd Canning Club meeting.  Three club members tag-teamed and taught the rest of us how to can Cinnamon Pears.  I was a bit skeptical about whether or not I would actually like cinnamon pears, but Little Boy and I pretty much demolished our jar at lunch today!  In fact, though he'd previously negotiated a deal that involved a cookie for dessert, he revised his request once he'd tried the pears:  "Momma, when I eat all of dis (chipped beef on toast), I get more of deeze (cinnamon pears)?"
At the meeting I took copious notes on how to make them, so I'll attempt to make sense of my scrawl, record it here for me to reference later, and allow Jessica, my partner in canning, a peek at what we did since she wasn't able to make the meeting.  ;)

1.  One of the three teachers had brought pears from her father's backyard for us to use.  We peeled, cut out any bad sections, cored, and sliced the pears and threw them into a mix of 1/4 c. lemon juice to 1 qt. water to preserve their color while we worked.  (I think that when I attempt this at home, I will chunk rather than slice.  I think that would be easier for Little Boy to eat.)



2.  We drained off the water and added pears to pre-warmed water.  We then added sugar to the water at a ratio of 2 c. sugar for every quart of water (you need enough water to cover all the pears).  Also, add 1 cinnamon stick per quart of water used.  Then, we added red food coloring to "taste" (is that funny to anyone else?).  I guess this is done so that they look more "cinnamon-y," but, honestly, pink pears are a little weird to me, so I think I'd leave this out if just canning them for our own use.

3. We brought the mix to a boil and cooked for 6 minutes.  Stirring frequently is key during this part of the process to keep it from sticking and burning.  A thick enamel pan works well for canning things that tend to burn easily.  Apparently good enamel pans are difficult to find these days, though.  The one we used in class was given to one of the teachers by her grandmother years ago.

4. We then ladled the pears and juice (removing the cinnamon sticks) into hot, prepared jars.  Packing pretty tightly, be sure that the pears are covered with liquid and leave 1/2" headspace.  Use a non-metal object to poke around and release any air bubbles ("Why non-metal?" I asked.  The response?  A blank stare, followed by a laugh and "because that's what Grandma did!"  Then someone else finally piped up and said that they thought it was because metal might break the hot glass.  One lady said she uses a chopstick or kabab skewer as her "non-metal" object.)  Wipe top of jar clean before adding prepped lids and rings.


5. We processed in a boiling water bath for 20 minutes before removing and waiting for the PINGS!

I got to take a jar home!
Here are the pears I had today with my lunch.

Those chubby little fingers couldn't get enough of these pears!

If you're interested in canning some of your own, I'd recommend this recipe.  The cinnamon gives the pears a kick, and the syrup mix is a lot lighter than what canned pears from the grocery store are coated in.  If you don't have pears growing in your dad's backyard, now's a good time to purchase them at the store.  One of our local stores has them for $.99 a lb. until Tuesday-- check your sale paper (or better yet, your local farmer's market!)

Salsa Canning!

This past Tuesday, my friend Jessica and I got together for a salsa canning party!  Our little ones played/crawled around our feet as we went about putting up 22 jars of salsa.  Now, we had already canned salsa at our September Canning Club meeting, and it had turned out great.  We, however, didn't yet have access to the recipe we'd used in class, so for our own endeavor, we used this recipe
Though John claims it is "the best salsa outside of a restaurant" he's ever tasted, I found it only okay.  Now, let it be said that that is probably not the fault of the recipe.  The recipe calls for 10-12 peppers and doesn't really specify which ones to use.  We used a combination of bell peppers and habaneros because that's what I'd just harvested from the garden.  I think that the citrus, sweet taste of the habaneros lent a sweet and spicy flavor to the salsa that seemed a bit odd to me. 

At last night's October Canning Club meeting, I got my recipe book in.
This means that I now have access to the salsa recipe we used in class.  Next year, I'll plan to can a bunch of it using these ingredients:

7 quarts peeled, cored, chopped Roma tomatoes
4 c. seeded chopped long green chiles
5 c. chopped onion
1/2 c. seeded, finely chopped jalapeno peppers (wear gloves when cutting up peppers ;)
6 cloves garlic, finely chopped (maybe more -- I love garlic!)
2 c. bottled lemon or lime juice
2 Tbs. salt
1 Tbs. black pepper
2 Tbs. ground cumin
2 Tbs. fresh cilantro, chopped (maybe more -- I love cilantro!)

Directions:
If you like a more processed Mexican-restaurant-style salsa (like I do), be sure all your veggies have been pulsed in a food processor to the desired consistency.  Combine all ingredients except cumin and cilantro in a large pot and heat until boiling.  Reduce heat and simmer for 10 minutes.  Add spices and simmer another 20 minutes.  Fill hot jars with salsa, leaving 1/2" headspace.  Remove air bubbles.  Wipe rims of jars.  Add lids and rings.  Process for 15 minutes in a boiling water bath.

Yummm!