All the great vegetables and fruits at the farmers market these days means it’s time to start putting food by. When we lived in cooler climes, canning was my food preservation technique of choice but here in the Sacramento Valley where it’s only slightly cooler than the bowels of hell, I like to freeze foods.

This weekend’s trip to the market had me buying a few pounds of Roma tomatoes and a bunch of hot Italian peppers. The tomatoes were peeled, sealed, and put in the freezer; the peppers were roasted and then frozen. I’ll do this several more times while tomatoes and peppers are in season and then use the veggies up over the winter. There is nothing quite like eating those tomatoes in the dead of winter…it’s like summer in your mouth!

Alas, I have no pictures of those beautiful tomatoes or peppers to share so here is a recipe for all you gardeners wondering what to do with all that zucchini you grew!

Note: this is an old recipe from my grandmother’s recipe box.

Zucchini Relish

6 lg. zucchini (about 4 lbs.)
4 lg. onions, peeled
1 green bell pepper, seeded
1 sweet red bell pepper, seeded
1/2 c. pickling salt (if you can’t find pickling salt, the best substitution would be kosher salt)
1 c. water
3 c. sugar
3 c. vinegar
1/2 c. water
2 tsp turmeric
2 tsp celery seed

Cut ends off zucchini but do not peel. Chip zucchini, onions, and peppers finely by hand. Place vegetables in a large bowl; sprinkle with salt. Cover with ice water; let stand for one hour. Drain then rinse well under cold running water. Drain thoroughly.

In a saucepan, boil together sugar, vinegar, water, turmeric, & celery seed for 3 minutes. Add vegetable mixture; bring to a boil then simmer for 10-15 minutes or until of desired consistency. Spoon hot relish into hot, sterilised jars; seal at once. Process in boiling water bath 15 minutes.

Makes about 8 pints.

This pattern combines the ease of the seamless yoked sweater, a traditional netting stitch, and cool cotton to create a beach or pool-side wardrobe must. Cabana is knit bottom up in one piece with a single eyelet row at the neck through which you can thread a pretty ribbon or even a length of I-cord if you wish.

Note: The pattern for Cabana contains two sets of directions; one for sizes XS through L and one for sizes L through 3X.

Sizes
XS (S, M, L)

Finished Size
Bust: 35″ (40″, 44″, 49″)
To fit bust: 30″ (34″, 38″, 42″)

Yarn
Patons Grace (100% mercerized cotton; 50g = approx. 125m/136 yards); Colour: natural: 4 (4, 4, 5) balls

Sizes
L (1X, 2X, 3X)
Finished Size
Bust: 49″ (54″, 58″, 63″)
To fit bust: 42″ (46″, 50″, 54″)
Yarn
Patons Grace (100% mercerized cotton; 50g = approx. 125m/136 yards); Colour: natural: 5 (5, 6, 6) balls

Needles and Other Supplies
“    32″ circular needle in size US 6
“    Stitch markers
“    Tapestry needle
“    Satin ribbon

Gauge
12 stitches = 4 inches or 3st/in. in Cat’s Eye Netting stitch.

$2.00

Casting On for the Armhole

Cabana uses a slightly novel cast on for the armhole section. If you’re having trouble visualising it, here is a little photo essay that might help…

First you bind off the stitches. The working yarn is on the right-hand needle:

Transfer the last stitch on the RH needle to the LH needle. Knit on 1 stitch. Cable cast on specified number of stitches.

The work now looks like this:

Knit across the new stitches.

The new stitches are not joined to the original body stitches until the next row, when you just work across them.

(Detail from a carving made from a photograph of a Civil War Union POW.)

I’ve recently been working on Cecily Glowik MacDonald’s Provence Baby Cardigan as a “welcome to the world” gift for a friend’s brand new granddaughter. Although it wasn’t part of the pattern, I decided I would sew some grosgrain ribbon onto the back of the buttonband…ostensibly to add a sturdier anchor material for the buttons but really because my grandmother used to do this on her handknits. When my own daughter was born, the cardigan sweaters knit for her by Nana all had grosgrain on the buttonbands and I suppose I consider that ribbon a sign of something well-made (and made well) with love.

As I was sewing, I found myself falling deeper and deeper into the rhythm of the stitches and not surprisingly my thoughts turned to things beyond the work at hand. At first I pondered the wonderfully relaxing effect the hand-sewing was having on me but then my mind wandered off into thoughts of handwork in general and giving handmade gifts specifically.

As much as I love to make things, there is always part of me that feels more than a little insecure about giving handmade gifts. I look at the baby cardigan and, even though I know I made it out of caring for my friend and her family and even though I know that it is a beautiful reflection of that care, I see every little mistake I made whilst knitting it and I wonder…is it good enough? Surely something bought at the store would be better, wouldn’t it?

Growing up, we did not have a lot of money. I still remember some of our family “experiments”…like eating vegetarian for a month “to be more civilised” (in fact: because meat was expensive and we didn’t have enough money for it) or going without television for six months because “it rots your brain” (in fact: the TV broke and it took us six months to save up money for a new one). Handmade gifts were part and parcel (sorry…it had to be said!) of growing up without extra disposable income. My mum would make the most amazing Barbie doll clothes for us at Christmas time. There was none of this “buy a new Barbie along with a new outfit for her”; we had one doll each and most of her clothes were handmade!

I suspect that that sort of existence was pretty much the norm for most people prior to the rise of rampant consumerism. Gifts were handmade because they had to be and they really meant something…you certainly didn’t have the time or money to hand gifts out like Chiclets. As being a consumer became a sign of prosperity, handmade gifts settled into the world of the underclass. And there they’ve remained for quite some time.

Over eighty years ago, the promise of “a chicken in every pot and a car in every garage” was issued and I think it’s safe to say that, for the vast majority of people, that promise has been fulfilled. Why then are so many people returning to the idea of handmade gifts? It’s not just knitting a sweater for a new baby…it’s also baking cookies for a helpful neighbour, giving a hand-drawn card to a friend on their birthday, sewing an apron for someone who loves to cook.

It’s awfully trite to say “money can’t buy you love” or “money can’t buy happiness” but maybe it really is that simple. Or maybe we’re just waking up to the fact that the care and love put into a handmade gift should have a higher value than the cost of a similar gift from a store.

As for me, I will continue to make and give handmade gifts. And I’ll try not to feel too bad about it.

Two years ago, I wrote about making ratafia with loquats from one of my trees.

That particular tree succumbed to fire blight last year but I was looking forward to making another batch of ratafia with fruit from the loquat tree at the back of the house.

I noticed fire blight on the remaining loquat about a week ago and, after reading up on it, the Spouse and I got right on it. Alas, when he went up on the roof to take care of the obviously dead branches, he reported that ALL of the branches were infected. The best laid plans and all that…

All the branches had to come down (we’ve left the trunk as it should put some new branches out eventually and some copper-based treatments should take care of the fire blight…I hope!) and so I was out in the back, harvesting the not-yet-ripe loquats.

I decided that I would try making verjuice (or verjus, if you’re in a Gallic state of mind) with the fruit. BBC Radio 4’s Food Programme had done an episode on verjuice and it seemed like a very interesting sort of foodstuff.

I quartered and seeded the entire haul of loquats (somewhere between five and ten pounds) and then ran them through the food processor, creating a pulp.

The pulp sat in a cheesecloth-lined colander (weighted) overnight in order to collect the juice itself. If I’d had a better press set up, I could have got much more liquid out of the mash but as it was, I ended up with almost a litre. Salt was added, to prevent any chance of fermentation, and into the fridge it went.

I left it in its initial container for a week, just to be sure that it wasn’t going to start fermenting. It’s quite salty (no, I didn’t measure the salt but obviously I put a wee bit too much in!) so I felt safe in transferring it to glass today.

The verjuice looks and smells quite a bit like unfiltered apple juice; not surprisingly, I’m sure, as the loquat is related to the apple. I’m quite looking forward to using it (judiciously!) as a deglazing liquid this winter.

Crosby (Zippered Vest with Cables)

This cabled sleeveless vest with ribbed side panels is fantastic for those “not-too-warm-and-not-too-cold” days. It’s knit in one piece with minimal seaming and features a simple but attractive cable pattern. The 2-way zippered closure makes it a very versatile addition to any wardrobe while waist shaping and short row shaping in the bust make it customizable to any body type.
Note: This is a plus-size pattern.

Sizes

L (1X, 2X, 3X)

Finished Size

Bust: 38” (42”, 46”, 52”)
To fit bust: 42” (46”, 50”, 56”)

Skills Utilised

• Increases; Decreases; Cable; Cable cast on; Attached I-cord; Seaming; Short rows; Basic sewing (for sewing in the zipper)

Yarn

Full Belly Farm Organic Worsted (100% wool; 4 oz. = approx. 250 yards) or other heavy worsted weight wool; Colour: natural: 5 (5, 6, 6) skeins

Needles and Other Supplies

• 40” circular needle in size US 7 (or size required to make gauge)
• 24” circular needle in size US 5
• Cable needle
• Stitch markers
• Waste yarn
• 22” two-way separating zipper
• Thread
• Sewing machine (optional)

Gauge

11 stitches and 12 rows = 2 inches in Crooked Cable stitch

For yarn substitution purposes:

8 stitches and 13 rows = 2 inches in stockinette

$5.00

This past weekend saw one of our awesome neighbourhood barbecues take place at the Germans’ house, giving us the opportunity to try making Maibowle, an herb-infused white wine concoction. Maibowle is a traditional German beverage made with sweet woodruff and white wine(s) and was apparently popular in the 70s (also the era of cheese fondues).

At first, we thought that we’d have to make an Erdbeerbowle (white wine infused with strawberries), as the sweet woodruff in the Germans’ garden didn’t fare too well over the winter. Luckily, M– came to the rescue, providing the herb from her city house garden.

K– prepped the herb by cutting it into small springs:

The next task was to assemble the sprigs into small bundles, tied with thread. Here is K–, working on that task. (T– and I also helped, once I put the camera down.)

The bundles were suspended from a cross-member (formerly known as a “wooden spoon” but renamed for its very important role in creating the Maibowle). It’s important not to submerge the cut end of the herb in the wine, as it contains a natural form of coumadin.

In no time, we had all the sweet woodruff sprigs bundled up and hanging from their cross-members:

After lightly bruising the herbs, a couple of bottles of fruity white wines were added to bowl, whereupon we discovered that the bowl was the wrong size or the wrong shape (or both!) or the thread was too short or something like that…the sweet woodruff wasn’t submerged enough in the wine for our liking.

A quick swap out of bowls remedied the situation and it was “everybody back in the pool!”:

The herbs steeped in the wine for about an hour, after which we added a bottle of sparkling wine to the bowl. After a shorter steeping time, a wee bit of sugar was stirred in and then it was time to enjoy!

And enjoy it, we did! The herbal flavour of the wine was a perfect accompaniment to the beautiful spring weather we were having. I’m inspired to try making other herbal infusions using just water or maybe even vinegar; I think when added to a carbonated beverage (tonic water? soda water? lemon-lime pop?), it could make for a fantastic summertime beverage.

And, in case anyone doubted it, we are at the forefront of cool in our habits. The very day after creating our own Maibowle, Spiegel Online ran an article on Maibowle: “Maibowle: Deutschland ist Waldmeister“. Okay, maybe their version is slightly more updated but I contend that we are still avant garde (when it comes to herb-infused beverages , if nothing else).

So I learned yesterday that atheism is a religion. At a college. In a college-level class.

That is just so ass backward that I feel compelled to say “FTW?”

I argued that atheism cannot be a religion based on the definition of religion we were given; the response of the instructor was to change the definition.

The definition as given was that a religion is a “system of beliefs regarding conduct in accordance with either divine commands found in sacred writings, or declared by authoritative teachers.” My argument that atheism is not a “system” of anything prompted the suggestion that “system” be removed from the definition. Okay.

A fellow student argued that there are religions that do not believe in a divine being (Buddhism being the most common) and so atheism could be a religion. He had a point; perhaps I needed to look at the definition of “atheism” as well.

And so here is my system-less definition of religion (courtesy of Wikipedia):

A religion is a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, especially when considered as the creation of a supernatural agency or agencies, usually involving devotional and ritual observances, and often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs.

To avoid getting caught up in the differences between various religions and the diverse sects within some of those religions, I’m happy to trim that definition to its most basic: a religion is a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe.

So what is atheism? Again, courtesy of Wikipedia:

Atheism is commonly described as the position that there are no deities.^[1] It can also mean the rejection of belief in the existence of deities.^[2]

Let’s look at these two definitions separately and see if they fit in with the definition of a religion.

First we have the “position that there are no deities”. While this certainly could be an aspect of a “set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe”, it doesn’t stand on its own as a religion any more than “monotheism” can stand on its own as a religion. This was the Buddhism argument posited by my fellow student. However, simply holding an atheistic position does not necessarily indicate a belief in anything else. Where is the “set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe”?

If atheism were a religion, someone should be able to answer that question. There is no answer however because atheism does not fit the definition of a religion.

Shall we move on to the second definition: the rejection of belief in the existence of deities. I suspect this is what was meant in class when atheism was described as a religion. Again, it does not fit the definition because it does not provide a set of beliefs concerning the cause, blah blah blah.

It’s simple logic:

A religion is a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe.

Christianity is a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe.
Therefore, Christianity is a religion.

Buddhism is a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe.
Therefore, Buddhism is a religion.

Atheism is the position that there are no deities; it does not encompass any other beliefs.
Therefore, atheism is not a religion.

Monotheism is the position that there is a single deity; it does not encompass any other beliefs.
Therefore, monotheism is not a religion.

Atheism is the rejection of belief in the existence of deities; it does not encompass any other beliefs.
Therefore, atheism is not a religion.

Polytheism is the belief in the existence of many deities; it does not encompass any other beliefs.
Therefore, polytheism is not a religion.

As far as gods go, I take the position that there are no deities; while you might call me an atheist, I prefer the term “godless heathen”.

As for what I do believe in? Well, I believe in the laws of physics. Please call me a physicist.

For some odd reason, I decided to do a little genealogy research last night. Okay, not such an odd reason…I am so tired of listening to Taylor Swift sing off-key that I couldn’t bear to watch the Grammys with the rest of the crew.

At any rate, I grew up knowing about six or seven generations of my family tree: all patrilineal, of course. Last night, as I was poking around on the web, I saw something that made me think “Hey, what about the tail line?” That something was a small notation indicating that my great(3)-grandmother, Florence Carlow, was born in New Brunswick.

Hmmm. This was new information for me. And so off to the New Brunswickian genealogy sites to see what I could find. I read through various census documents until I finally said to myself, “Didn’t these people come from somewhere else?” And finally, in documents listing New Brunswick’s “First Families”, I found that they did…they came from Maine and before that, Massachusetts.

Luckily, amateur American genealogists have posted their family trees online because otherwise I would have been lost. Apparently, that Massachusetts family is rather well-known: the Howlands actually arrived in MA on the Mayflower.

Okay, there were three brothers: John, Arthur, and one more who does not figure in this story (lucky for me as I’ll be damned if I can remember his name!). John Howland arrived in Plymouth on board the Mayflower in 1620. His descendants include notables such as George HW Bush, George Bush, Sarah Palin, and Eleanor Roosevelt. His older brother, Arthur, arrived in Plymouth some time around 1627, maybe on a ship called the Mayflower (apparently, there were several), maybe not. His descendants include ME!

Here’s the trail I followed:

* Florence Carlow, daughter of Horatio Carlow
* Horatio Carlow, son of Elisabeth Turner
* Elisabeth Turner, daughter of Rachael Sylvester
* Rachael Sylvester, daughter of Joshua Sylvester
* Joshua Sylvester, son of Lucretia Joyce
* Lucretia Joyce, daughter of Elizabeth Howland
* Elizabeth Howland, daughter of Arthur Howland

So there you have it…my family arrived on the Mayflower. Can I have my green card now?

What a bargain!

With nothing else scheduled for this morning, the Spawn and I were able to hit the farmer’s market where I spent all of $18.55. Just look at all that good stuff! From the top, we’ve got a bag of organic kiwis, two small heads of leaf lettuce, cauliflower, Swiss chard, fresh onions, a head of garlic, broccoli greens, baby artichokes (the first of the season!!!), onions, red potatoes, and broccoli.

I’ve already got plans for some of it…

* baby artichokes: these are destined for tonight’s dinner. We’ll have pan-roasted baby artichokes with pasta (and lots of garlic and oregano). We stopped by Dianda’s in the village for lunch and left with a loaf of bread and some Italian pastries for dessert as well.

* the kiwis will be eaten by the Spawn as breakfast throughout the coming week

* broccoli greens: I’d like to cook these like collard greens as a side at some point during the week

* fresh onions: bundle these up along with a bit of Serrano ham in some puff pastry and you’ve got a fantastic savoury treat.

The rest is just “staples” for the crisper; the cauliflower and broccoli may or may not end up in a soup. Who knows?