How many of you grew up absolutely hating brussel sprouts?  I know I did.  I’ll preface this post by saying that I hope my mother isn’t reading this blog as of late, and Mom, if you are, please stop reading now.  Thanks.

Now I’ll continue on…

Brussel sprouts for dinner were one of those traumatic events of my childhood.  It ranked right up there with beets, which I wrote about quite some time ago in this entry.   I vowed never to eat another brussel sprout after I was old enough to make such a proclamation without getting severely chastised.  Then I figured out that the brussel sprouts weren’t the problem, it was the preparation of the brussel sprouts which caused the aversion.

(Mom, you aren’t reading this right?  Don’t continue on if you are!)

When I was growing up, brussel sprouts came frozen in boxes.  Then you boiled them.  Then you served them.  Slimy.  Yes, slimy.  Beyond rutabaga (that’s yet another entry for a different time), brussel sprouts caused the children in our family nightmares.

But guess what?  Fresh, properly prepared brussel sprouts ARE NOT SLIMY.  It’s true.  They are solid, and crisp, and taste great!

Have you ever seen a brussel sprout in the wild?  Go ahead.  Click on the picture to the left.  Most people have no idea what these little orbs of veggies look like in their natural state.  Yes, they look like they grow on mutant dwarf palm trees.  Does it scare you?  It may not, but it sure scared the heck out of Jimbo, my Shiba Inu, who was certain the house was being invaded by alien tropical trees. 

Sure, he looks regal in the picture on the right, but when confronted by wild brussel sprouts, he’s reduced to a whimpering wuss. 

But back to brussel sprout preparation.  First, cut them off the sprout.  Next, soak them in salted water to get any insects out of the leaves that may have called your stalk of sprouts home.  Then slice them in half, toss them with diced onions, garlic, olive oil, salt, and pepper, and roast at 425 for 30 - 45 minutes.

(You read this, didn’t you Mom?)

Popularity: 31% [?]

The First BLT of the Season

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One of our favorite traditions revolves around the very first home grown tomato of the summer. We typically see this special tomato somewhere around the Fourth of July. This year, we saw it the week before that.We watch our plants in anticipation, awaiting the ripening, and planning it around a Saturday afternoon. As it ripens we evaluate. Picking it too soon ruins the entire event. We don’t know what would happen if we picked it too late, because that, somehow, has never been a problem.When it reaches just the right ripeness, we sping into action. We buy the best fresh loaf of hearty bread that we possibly can. We have a nice goat cheese on hand. We make sure that there’s arugula…. and then we put together the best BLT of the year.

Served with a bottle of wine and a bit of jazz while sitting on the back deck and enjoying the summer, it is something that we look forward to all year long.

Popularity: 17% [?]

Roasted Pork Tenderloin with Ramp, Scallion and Mustard Sauce

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It’s early spring in Wisconsin, and if you get a CSA produce box, chances are that you are also getting ramps. I’m always looking for ways to incorporate ramps into my cooking for the very limited time that they are available. You can read about ramps, and what they are here, if you are interested.I picked up a nice pork tenderloin at the only place that I can bring myself to buy them, Jenifer Street Market. They sell real pork tenderloin, not a tenderloin that has been injected with so many additives and solutions that you can no longer recognize what it is that you are eating. While I was there, I also picked up some Nueske’s bacon. This is the best bacon in the world, trust me!

I wrapped the tenderloin in the smoky bacon and seared it in an ovenproof pan. I added ramps and scallions, including the greens, to the pan, then finished it off in the oven until cooked through. While the tenderloin rested, I deglazed the pan with chicken stock and mustard, tossed some greens with the sauce, sliced up the pork and served it over the greens.

Fast, flavorful, and healthy.

Popularity: 16% [?]

A couple of weeks ago I mused about making a Ramp Pesto. I posted this in the blog mainly so that I wouldn’t forget about it. Since that posting I keep getting lots and lots of hits from people searching for Ramp Pesto. Who knew?

So this weekend I made a foray to the Dane County Farmers Market and picked up some extra ramps, some green garlic, and some scallions and I decided to combine it all into a pesto sauce.

Ramp, Scallion and Green Garlic Pesto: (Sorry, I don’t really measure, I just add oil, nuts and cheese until it is the right consistency).

- 1 Bunch Ramps - bulbs and greens roughly chopped
- 1 Bunch Scallions - bulbs and greens roughly chopped
- 1 Bunch Green Garlic - bulbs and greens roughly chopped
- Olive Oil
- Grated Parmesan Cheese
- Pine Nuts
- Salt

Put ramps, garlic and scallions in a food processor and process until well chopped. Add olive oil as process or is running until near desired consistancy. Add cheese, pine nuts and salt and chop again. Add olive oil as needed.

Popularity: 13% [?]

After years and years, we’ve upgraded our grill (but more about that in another entry…). Our new charcoal grill has a rotisserie attachment, and I’ve been eager to experiment with it. We have never cooked this way before, so it’s a new thing!

Doesn’t this turkey look pretty? Doesn’t it look perfect? Doesn’t it look like it is going turn out wonderfully, solidifying a new reputation as rotisserie griller extraordinaire?

Right.

An hour later I walked out on the back deck and heard *thud* *thud* *thud* coming from the grill. I lifted the cover and saw my previously perfectly trussed turkey mutilated by the rotisserie prongs and falling apart at the leg joints. It also was so off balance that it stopped “rotisserie-ing”. It just hung there dangling like a horribly deformed fowl.

I would have taken pictures to show you, but Greg seemed to be in no mood to document this defining moment in our lives, so you’ll just have to trust me. The carnage wasn’t pretty.

So, we took it off the rotisserie and put it on a rack. It turned out great. Go figure.

Greg may have had more of a sense of humor if we had not just spent significant time in the backyard wrestling with our new upside down tomato planter! He’ll appreciate that struggle in August, I am confident.

Popularity: 9% [?]