Showing posts with label Alaska Bush Living: Summer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alaska Bush Living: Summer. Show all posts

Saturday, January 20, 2024

How to Make Berry Wine (from fresh, frozen, or canned fruit)

For a dozen or so years, I have made palatable wine (usually pinot noir and pinot grigio) from commercial kits that vary in price from $69 - $200 per 6 gallons.  To some, I added fresh berries that we grow at home. 

I have also made 4 batches of mead with the honey that our honeybees produced.  One batch of raspberry mead was glorious, but three others failed to ferment, so I ended up with three gallons of raspberry/honey syrup – more than anyone needs.


Last month, inspired by a friend who makes about 10 types of wine from apricot and wild plum trees, dandelion flowers, and fireweed flowers, among other ingredients, I decided to start with raspberries and red currants that I gathered and canned last summer.  Next up will be high bush cranberry wine.

A mere month after starting the fermentation, I was delighted by the early flavor of the currant wine.  In fact, I vastly preferred it to the raspberry wine!  Who would have thought that!  The former already has a vibrant flavor and silky mouth feel.  It tastes so rich that I add a dollop or two to flavor occasional glasses of the commercial pinot grigio or pinot noir that I made at the same time.    

By contrast, the raspberry wine is currently disappointing, but of course I expect wines to take several months to age.  At the moment, it tastes and smells thin, with a watery aftertaste.  I also made a second gallon with the “seconds,” which I found as an extra on one recipe.  This uses the pulpy seeds left over in the cheesecloth bag after the first batch has soaked for a week or ten days.  I think this may be the berry equivalent of grappa.  This batch had a slightly leathery taste, which my mentor thinks is due to the tannins in the seeds.  Since I am not a fan of woody wines, I don’t care for this flavor in the raspberry wine, either, but another palate may like it.  Over the next six months, I will check the wine to ensure that it does not mold or go bad, but otherwise, let it age in a dark spot behind the couch.

I have concluded that my dramatically contrasting reactions to the currant and raspberry wines may result from the fact that I seeded the former in a food mill before canning, but not the latter.  Like the currants, I always seed the cranberries that I juice, so I look forward to making some of that.  In future batches, I will seed raspberries, too, for wine.  


Recipe

You can find many recipes on line for the fruit of your choice.  One of the most famous people in this industry, with dozens of fruit wine recipes, is Jack Keller, who died in 2020.  You can find his recipes on many websites, such as www.homebrewtalk.com and www.winemakermag.com. I would heartily encourage any fruit wine maker to start with his recipes and then adjust for taste after a first or second batch.

  Jack Keller’s raspberry wine recipe:

 

    3 pounds of red raspberries

    1 pound 11 ounces of granulated sugar

    Water to 1 gallon

    4 teaspoons of pectic enzyme⁹0

    1 teaspoon of yeast nutrient

    Half a teaspoon of yeast energizer

    1 gram of Fermaid K  (I did not use this)

    Lalvin’s RC 212, a red wine yeast  (I used Lanvin 47)

Heat one gallon of potable water to temperature that will allow the sugar to dissolve into a thin solution.  Stir.

If you add berry juice, just pour it in.  If you add fruit with seeds or some other chunky fruit, like cherries, put it in a cheesecloth bag first, for easy removal. (You can use fresh, frozen or canned fruit).

Let the pot cool down to about 105 degrees F.   Stir again.  If you plan to let the wine ferment in that same pot (which I do), move it to a place where it can remain undisturbed, preferably in a temperature range of 65 – 75 degrees.  Sprinkle the yeast energizer and nutrient across the top of the liquid, and then the wine yeast.  Do not stir. Loosely lid it, and add an airlock or alternative (see below, under equipment).

If you plan to ferment the liquid in a different pot, crock, or bucket, pour the liquid in, set in in a place where it can remain, undisturbed for several weeks, let the liquid settle, and then sprinkle the yeast energizer and nutrient and wine yeast over the top. If the location’s temperature is below 65, the yeast will take longer to multiply, delaying and sometimes stalling fermentation.  A stalled ferment can be fixed, but if not, you have juice or low alcohol wine. 

On the second and subsequent days, stir it vigorously with a very long spoon for a few minutes, sometimes  twice a day.  Be sure to push the cheesecloth bag down below the surface so the fruit will not mold.  (If you do not contain the fruit in a cheesecloth bag, it will float on top, creating a crust that (a) can mold and (b) segregates the yeast from the air that it needs to survive.)  I find it fascinating to see, when the yeast population grows,  the colony actively swimming in the liquid.  I would use the word, swarming, except for the negative insect imagery.  If the yeast growth has slowed to the point where I see no movement during the first week, I sprinkle a teaspoon of yeast nutrient or yeast energizer on the surface.  This will feed and energize the yeast, so they can consume more of the fruit sugar and turn it into alcohol. 

About Day 7, use your wine thief (a turkey baster) to squeeze enough liquid into the hydrometer for the thermometer to float. Read the measurement.  If it is near 1.03, this means that your juice is partially fermented.  Squeeze as much liquid as you can from your cheesecloth bag into the liquid and then remove it.  About every other day after this, measure again until the hydrometer reads 1.00 or 0.99. Numbers above this mean that much sugar remains unconverted by the yeast into alcohol.  The sweeter the taste at this point, the lower the alcohol.  If you choose not to use a hydrometer, you can simply taste a few spoonfuls of wine every other day after Day 7 until you like flavor.  (You can also use the hydrometer to calculate the percentage of alcohol, too, through a formula that you can find on-line).  My wines (from kits or from my harvested fruit) generally ferment by Day 10 - 12. 

When the wine reaches a palatable profile for you, siphon the liquid into a glass growler, leaving behind the yeasty gunk that coats the bottom of the prior container.  Install the air lock, so that any remaining CO2 can escape.  You don’t want to cap the wine too soon or residual C02 could cause the growler to explode. If there is a lot of yeast and residue at the bottom of the growler, (a reason to use a glass container), I siphon it again into a clean container.  This results in a clearer wine. 



I don’t bother to bottle and cork the wine.  I simply store it in the growlers and drink it within the year.    

Equipment

To try a few small batches without much financial outlay, you can start with the following equipment.  Note alternatives for a first batch or two to further reduce your initial expenditure.  Like many types of hobby equipment, you can probably find much of this used.

*A cooking pot bigger than one gallon to heat the liquid. 

*The same or a second pot or crock or jug with a lid that fits loosely and preferably has a hole in which to put an air lock.  For one gallon batches, I use a pressure cooker (not a pressure canner) in which I removed the plastic plug, leaving a hole in which I plunge an air lock.

*An air lock or two.  This is a small, inexpensive multi-part plastic gizmo that allows CO2 out but does not let oxygen into the liquid.  A second choice is to lay cheese cloth, a thin T shirt or even a paper napkin over the hole.  This will keep out bugs, ash, and dust, but will let oxygen in, which can influence the taste over time.  But this will work. 

*A rubber stopper or two with a hole in the bottom, that holds the plastic air lock in place.  Buy the size stopper that fits your growler or carboy (a 5-6 gallon heavy glass jug).  The former is smaller than the latter.

*A cheesecloth bag or two (big enough to hold a heavy gallon of sodden berries and juice).  (These inexpensive bags are useful for jams, jellies, cheese, teas, pickling, etc.  Buy a dozen.

*A plastic siphon (to move the wine from its initial fermenting stage container to its second, aging container).  Yes, you can simply pour it, but a siphon enables you to leave behind the yeast in the first container, so that your final product will not taste yeasty.

*A hydrometer (this looks like a 10 inch thermometer that fits in a tall, thin glass or plastic container and measures alcohol level of the liquid you pour into the container).  Alternatively, taste your wine every other day after Day 7 or 10.  A sweet flavor and a higher hydrometer reading means that the fermentation is not finished and therefore, the alcohol level is low.  A reading below 1 (0.99) means that fermentation is complete. (In my experience, unfermented fruit/sugar/water solution starts around 1.08.)

*A wine thief, which is simply a turkey baster to collect wine to squeeze into the hydrometer

*Wine yeast.  The most versatile and reliable that I have used are Lanvin 47 and Lanvin 1118, however, wine connoisseurs suggest particular yeast strains for different fruits and flavor profiles.  You can buy wine yeast on-line or at beer supply stores, along with the optional items below.  One packet is enough for a batch of 1 – 6 gallons of wine.  These will age out at some point depending on storage temperature and humidity, so do not expect to stockpile several years worth. 

Optional but useful purchases:

Yeast nutrient and yeast energizer.  These are powders that gig the yeast to consume the sugars if they have slowed down. Here in our wood heated cabin in Alaska, I need these aids and/or I move the fermenters (the first container to which you have added the yeast) closer to the wood stove.  

Citric Acid:  If your wine is too sweet for your liking, due to the fruit, you can add citric acid to balance the flavor.  If it is overly sweet because the fermentation stalled, that means that the yeast has not consumed the sugar and converted it to alcohol, so the wine will be low alcohol.  The citric acid will balance the flavor but do nothing about the alcohol level. For some wine makers, this could be an intentional choice, such as 4 or 5% alcohol wine.

Pectic enzyme:  Pectic enzyme helps draw out the liquid of fruit, requiring less mashing work from you.  This is not as necessary for juicy fruit like berries, but useful for fruit with more texture, like apricots, cherries, and plums.

Sugar or honey:  If your resulting wine is too dry for your palate, you can “back sweeten” it.  Heat the honey or sugar so that it dissolves.  Pick a test amount of wine, like a quart, and measure how much sweetener you add to your liking.  Then extrapolate to the whole batch.  Obviously if you pour the sweetener in cold, it will just sink to the bottom and you are likely to add too much. 

Clarifiers and stabilizers:  The commercial kits come with packets that clarify and stabilize the wine.  I have not used any in my initial batches of dark berry wine, but would do so if I made a light colored wine, from grapes, pineapple, or apricots, and if I intended to store the wine for longer than I currently anticipate. 

Conclusion:  There are many advantages to this hobby.  

1)  Whether you choose to make wine from a commercial kit or from store bought fruit, the cost per bottle of wine will be MUCH lower than purchasing wine.  Basically, 5 bottles = 1 gallon.  A commercial kit of concentrated wine grape juice usually makes 6 gallons = 30 bottles.  The price for kits range from $65 to $200 depending on the provenance of the grapes.  If you pay $10 - 30/bottle, that = $300 - $900 for the same volume of wine. If you grow or forage the fruit, the cost for making the wine is simply the one time purchase of equipment, ongoing yeast packets and some optional items, like yeast energizer.  If you wish to make wine from store bought fruit or juice concentrate in the freezer section, you can price that out.   

2) The expense for equipment is for hardy elements that can be used over and over for many years.  We have had to replace plastic and delicate pieces occasionally, like a broken hydrometer, but otherwise, the purchases are “one and done”… for many years.   

3) Much of the equipment, like containers, cheese cloth, and airlocks, and the baster (evocatively called a wine thief) are multi-functional for other kitchen processes. 

4) For the gardener or forager, it is a  joy to harvest fresh fruit and turn it into something delectable.  I routinely harvest 6 gallons each of raspberries, currants, and cranberries per year for a variety of gustatory pleasures.  For wine, next year, I will harvest even more. 

5) The preparatory time commitment is low.  

The negatives:

1) You need to have space to store the equipment and the aging wine.  My son did so in a dormitory closet. 

2) While store bought wine is consistent in quality along a particular brand, your fruit wine quality may vary, depending on the quality of the fruit and your temperatures, just like any other agricultural product you grow at home. 

I recommend this endeavor for anyone who wants to save money and make use of fruit that you can buy, grow, or forage.

Sunday, September 3, 2023

Bountiful Berry Harvest in Alaska + Recipe for BBQ sauce with berries

Sadly, 2023 was “the summer that wasn’t.” The Land of the Midnight Sun was, instead, the Land of the Midnight Rain and Mid-day Rain.  One friend quipped that his location only had three rains - but one lasted 28 days!  In fact, local weather reporters said that this has been the coolest summer since 2008.  The temperature was not as much of a problem as all the rainy and overcast days. For us, I think the longest stretch of consecutive, sunny days was 4, and those were few and far between.  

 For someone who tries to raise a lot of our own food, this was a sad state of affairs. My vegetable gardens were pretty much useless.  Seeds, seedlings, and bulbs rotted in the ground, and those that grew were leggy and thin.  Cauliflower and broccoli never set heads.  Sunflowers never flowered.  Even the plants protected from rain in the greenhouse, were underwhelming. 

Fortunately, though, 6 different herbs did well on a covered porch, so I dried or infused them in cooking oils and we harvested GALLONS of berries which love this ecosystem in sun or rain.  Yea!

Our manual food mill

Our boreal forest has acidic soil, from the spruce trees.  So berry bushes are common under story plants.  Wild raspberry bushes grow in such dense stands that I have to cut them back with a weed whacking blade to create a path or to encourage anything else to grow in that area.  I love wild high bush cranberries, though, and nurture hundreds of those plants, pruning dead branches and suckers, culling weak ones to give healthy ones room to grow.  Some of the plants now tower above the “normal” height as slim trees.  Little blueberry bushes hug the lake shore.  We kayak to gather a handful at a time.  Even our dog likes to eat those berries right off the bushes.    

In addition to enjoying the wild berries, I have planted many others, such as haskaps, red, white, and black currants, raspberries, saskatoons, gooseberries, and strawberries. I enjoy their flowers, foliage, and of course, the tasty fruit, which range from sweetest (saskatoons and strawberries) to tartest (currants and cranberries).  All of them are chock full of vitamins and anti-oxidants.

By various preservation methods, we enjoy them throughout the year.  Those without big seeds are the easiest to use.  Some, I freeze whole, to pop into pancakes, pies, or muffins or snow ice cream in winter.  Others I store in vinegar.  Most I pressure can for shelf stable juice, jam, jelly, chutney, and other concoctions, like barbecue sauce (See recipe below).  

The first harvest of the year is haskaps from five bushes that line the south side of our cabin. 
About a gallon of currant juice
They range in size from 6x5x4 to 3x3x4 ft.  The fruits have a knobby, elongated shape, like one’s little finger, with dark blue-purple skin.  They taste like a cross between a blackberry and a concord grape.  After eating our fill straight from the bush, we harvested about 1 ½ gallons, mostly for a delicious jam.  I love it with corn pancakes. 

Domestic raspberries spread as prolifically as their wild brethren.  My original 15 canes now fill 4 rows, about 14 feet long, each, plus scattered other plots, plus all the canes I have given away to friends or yanked out of adjacent gardens that they invaded.  We harvested about 6 gallons and finally stopped because the rain battered the remaining fruit.  We use this bountiful harvest in various ways.  Bryan recently made a batch of beer with 5 lbs of raspberries.  I add some to a batch of pinot noir (that I make from a kit of concentrated pinot noir juice - Fontana brand, about $69 to make 6 gallons).  I make many jars of spicy barbeque sauce this time of year with one berry or another.  This year: raspberry. 

None of the currant recipes I find on line seem to bother about the many seeds, but the variety we planted has lots of them for the size of the berry, and since they are bigger than raspberry seeds, I do not like them in a final product.  High-bush cranberries, too, have a large, flat seed.  So both of these berries I process into juice, syrup, or jelly, netting 4:1 yield – that is 4 gallon of fruit yields 1 gallon of fruit. 

The procedure of separating the fruit from the seeds involves several steps, several counter tops, and makes a mess, so I prefer to harvest many gallons over several days, freeze them, and then set aside several hours to process the fruit, and then pressure can it.    

Red currant bushes
When I started out, I poured raw berries into the hopper but the act of grinding squirted juice all over the kitchen.  Since then, I heat the berries in a big pot first, to pop the skins.  Then I let the pot cool overnight.  The next morning, after breakfast,  I assemble the food mill and clamp it to the kitchen table, next to several rags and two big bowls.  In the sink, I place a cheese cloth lined colander over a large pot.  I ladle the juicy berries into the top hopper and start manually turning a metal arm that draws  the fruit down into the grinder.  The juice pours into one bowl, while a pulpy, seedy bolus is extruded out into a second bowl.    

Our food mill came with several grinders, each with different sized holes with helpful usage labels like “salsa”, “berries” and “apples.”  However, we found that the “berry” grinder cannot handle the seeds of the cranberries and currants.  They clog the mechanism to a full stop, which we then have to dismantle, clean, and reassemble.  A MESS.  So we use the “salsa” grinder which does not clog, but allows a lot of seeds to escape into the juice bowl.  Now what?  After I process the fruit, I pour the seedy juice through the large cheese cloth lined colander in the sink.  Then I squeeze out as much of the juice as I can into the pot.  When I have hens, I feed them the pulp and seeds.  When I don't, I dump them in a location where a future bush might be a pleasant addition. Major clean up of sink, table, floor, pots, bowls, and mechanisms ensue.   

When I have accumulated about 2 gallons of juice, it is time to pressure can it in order to make it shelf stable for future enjoyment or for gifts.  For my size canner, I sterilize 7 quarts or 14 cups of glass mason jars in hot water in the pressure canner while heating the juice on another burner.  I ladle hot juice into hot jars, screw the lid onto the canner, and process for about 15 minutes.  Easy.  If I want to make jam or jelly, I mix a 1:2 ratio of sugar to juice and bring to a gentle boil, cooking it down to thicken it.  With a candy thermometer, I endeavor to get the temperature to about 220 F.  If all goes well, the mixture will thicken into jam.  If not, I have fruit syrup.  What’s not to like?  I also enjoy drinking the sweetened juice hot or cold.

 When I was a single mom, I looked at those small, expensive plastic containers of berries with envy.  On occasions when I bought one or two, my boys and I devoured them in a minute.  I feel so fortunate now, to live in a setting where so many delectable berries grow so prolifically… even in such a cold and dreary summer, when little else did.

RECIPE:  SPICY BARBEQUE SAUCE WITH BERRIES

I make this is large batches.  The recipe below is for a small batch, in case you would like to try it out and tweak it for your tastebuds.

Beer: 1 cup

Vinegar: 1 cup

Molasses: 1 cup

Berries:  1 cup of mashed raspberries or 1 cup of currant or cranberry juice  (Blackberries would be good, too)

Tomato paste:  1 6 oz can

Chipotle in adobe sauce:  1 pepper, chopped, and a tablespoon or so of sauce

Add herbs and spices of choice.  I add coffee and cloves to “darken” the flavor, several cloves of garlic, and chili powder. 

Enjoy.

Find my book for $5 on Kindle here,  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BZN1FZR9/ref=sr_1_1

Sunday, July 16, 2023

A Dog's Life in Alaska: racing, coffee kiosks, and bears

You might think that the Alaska state sport would be hockey, but I would argue that it is dog mushing.  The most famous race is the 1000 mile long Iditarod the first weekend of March, but there are many other shorter, qualifying and alternative races, too, that we all follow.  Conversations buzz with references to favorite mushers and favorite dogs.  My husband and I live in an area of many competitive and recreational dog mushers as well as long time volunteers who help out at the races.

A Jr. Iditarod racer and volunteers on our frozen lake

The Junior Iditarod race, for teenagers, used to pass right in front of our cabin.  It was fun to a teen on a sled, pulled by a team 10 or 12 dogs, each wearing fabric booties to keep ice from forming between the toes.    

One of the state heroes is a dog, Balto, who was supposedly the lead dog delivering life-saving diphtheria medicine from Nenana to Nome back in 1925. Some impresario bought him, showed him at fairs outside the state, and then the dog lived out his dotage at the Cleveland Zoo.  A statue of him resides in, of all places, New York City. 

In Alaska, several dog mushing operations offer tourist activities.  We have friends who work for one near Willow, AK.  One of their duties is to take tourists on woodsy excursions by ATVs in summer and sleds in winter, both pulled by a team of strong dogs.  (You might be surprised by their size.  Mushing dogs, like huskies, are mid-sized, not mastiffs.)

A dog oriented-culture is surely true for most trans-polar regions.  Dogs were cheaper to feed and more successful in the cold than horses and mules to haul supply loads and people through heavy snow before the engines.  And heck, the warmth and companionship of dogs are welcome during long cold winters, too.

Sometimes we fly to town with Buddy, secured in a dog crate that fits neatly behind the two seats in our little Piper floatplane.  He does not like being cooped up, so we always ensure something fun for him upon arrival.  First we explore the leafy foliage along the lake where we dock.  Then, treat of treats, we drive to one of the many stand-alone coffee kiosks.  EVERY ONE offers a treat to accompanying dogs when “their people” order.

Buddy on the kayak's bow

In anticipation, Buddy jumps into Bryan’s lap, and looks expectantly out the window at the server as though to say “Whatcha got for me?” Most offer dog biscuits but one gave him a plate of whipping cream with a slice of bacon.  Our dog practically crawled out the window to move in with that guy!

In towns and outlying areas, we see people with their dogs in every form of conveyance – trucks, planes, rowboats, motor boats, canoes, sleds, ATVs, RVs, and running along with bicyclists and joggers.  A number of stores, like Sportsman’s Warehouse, and of course, Pet Zoo, allow dogs inside.  Some restaurants allow them at outside seating.  I was surprised to encounter a pizza-making craft beer bar with a big fenced yard that did not.  Seems like a missed opportunity.

 Many people take their dogs to work, especially at “Mom and Pop” businesses. Most of the air taxis have a dog on the tarmac or dock.     I have seen pooches lazing behind the counters of a hardware store, a retail shop, and a car repair place, among many other locations.  One Veterinarian who was a private pilot made his living by flying out to remote lodges and dog races to care for animals on site.  When he retired, he sold his plane to a friend of ours.

Some dogs are beautifully trained to retrieve water fowl for hunters and help with moose hunting.  In the past, some dogs were trained to tree bears, but I do not know anyone here who uses that tactic.

What I do NOT see are small dogs.  An Alaskan would not be caught dead carrying a tiny dog in a purse or pouch.  Up here, we call those “eagle bait.”  Interestingly, I have not seen any labelled service dogs either. 

When we get together for picnics with human friends, they often bring their dog pals, too. For the latter, I bring some of our homemade dog treats (basically unsweetened peanut butter crackers). 

In state parks, it is a rule that dogs must be leashed.  Some people want to let their pups run free, but this can be hazardous.  If a dog encounters a bear and then runs back toward his people, the running triggers the prey instinct in the bear, who will give chase towards the owner!   Similarly, if a loose dog disturbs a cache of food hidden by the bruin, the big guy could be resting nearby and roused to fiercely defend the carrion he was saving for a future meal.   

Fortunately, where we live, on a remote lake with a population of 4, Buddy lives a leashless life.  He jumps in the lake when he is hot or thirsty, and wanders the property, darting after birds and toads.  Because he has seen moose and bear close up through screened windows, he is alert to their scents.  We hope he will be a good warning system when dinner is approaching through the woods.  The next day, humans and canines will enjoy bear or moose steak on the grill, with a little blue cheese butter drizzled on top.

Wednesday, June 21, 2023

Swan and Duck Strategies Outwit our Dog + Recipe for Fruit Shrub drink

I have read descriptions of birds luring predators away from their nest of eggs or fledglings by feigning a broken wing or leg, but, until yesterday, I had never witnessed this.

Swans on our lake most of the summer
At the time, we were enjoying our afternoon kayak around the lake while our dog, Buddy, ran along the shore or paddled alongside.  Across the lake, he startled a duck out of the foliage along the water.  She fluttered in a shallow flight away from him, who watched in fascination and then dived in to swim after her.  We were amazed at how close she let him get to her – within 10 or 12 feet.  Usually, the ducks will fly far off, or the loons will dive and resurface far away, or the gulls will dive bomb him (and us). 

In this case, the duck paddled back and forth in short stints, but inexorably drawing Buddy deeper into the middle of the lake.  Occasionally, she fluttered mere inches above the water.  Her behavior was abnormal, so we wondered if she was hurt.

However, when she reached some particular point in the middle of the 1/2 mile wide lake, she soared off to the east, clearly a capable flyer.  Buddy slowed, disappointed, and headed toward the western shore.  At that point, we turned our kayak around to retrace our path home.  As we did, we saw two, small, fluffy fledglings paddling as fast as their little webbed feet could go, from the shore grasses where their mother had launched her charade.  What a clever and effective ruse to distract the Labrador Retriever.

A few days later, Buddy encountered water fowl with an entirely different strategy. 

Three trumpeter swans were resting on the far side of the lake, shining bright white against the green landscape.  When Buddy spied them, he slowed, trying to figure out what they were because they were SO BIG and stationary.  ((Factoids:  Trumpeter swans are the heaviest flying bird in the world, and one of the longest: about 40 lbs, 5 - 6 ft long, with a wing span of 6 - 8 ft.  What are male and female swans called?  Inquiring minds ask.  Answer:  cobs and pens.  Who knew?) 

 After they glided out into the water, he followed them at a pensive distance.  They commenced their loud, distinctive trumpeting calls that extend long distances and echo off the surrounding mountains.  Apparently, they were calling for reinforcements, because two more flew in from the twin lakes behind our property, forming an intimidating platoon before the naïve dog.  These large and imperious birds did not bother to fly away from Buddy.  With their strong legs and big webbed feet, they paddled just out of his range, exhausting him as he swam around them for 10 – 15 minutes.  Tuckered out, he decided to leave them alone, and head to shore, after which he had to run a longer perimeter than usual to return home.  This was a good lesson for him, because swans can be mean and have been recorded as drowning people that got too close, and surely other mammals, too.   In subsequent days, as the three swans slid past the dock in front of our house, Buddy watched with interest, but made no motion to follow them. 

Our dog certainly sleeps well after these outings.  What does he dream about?  Probably,  “I almost caught her…”

 

RECIPE:  FRUIT SHRUB

a shrub is an old fashioned drink, popular when potable water was not always available.

1:1:1 ratio of juicy fruit (or rhubarb), sugar or honey, and a gentle vinegar (like apple cider/white or red wine/rice).  If you use stronger white vinegar, use less of it.

Heat a pot of fruit and honey into a syrup.  Let that marinate in the refrigerator for several days.  Then add the vinegar.  Taste after several days.  Adjust the proportions.  

The vinegar should add a tang, but the dominant flavor should be the sweet fruit.  

This is refreshing as is or as an addition to still or sparkling water, wine, or vodka.  

Just as in salad dressings or other preparations, vinegar has health benefits in consumption.  This is another version.

Sunday, June 4, 2023

Spring Breakup: Two weeks from snow to edible wild plants

(The prior article focuses on the Breakup's lake ice and water fowl.  This one focuses on rapid changes on land).

Breakup, our term for spring, is FAST.

After a long winter, the snow melts several inches a day in April and May, leaving increasing spaces of muddy soil shaped by serpentine tunnels of voles (meadow mice) and punctuated by 8 months of dog poop.  A Southern relative asked me why I wait until spring to pick it up.  Why not do so every day?  Perhaps she has not spent much time in snow.  Warm excretions sink through soft snow.  So in spring, we find the scat of moose, coyotes, spruce hens, and our dog, Buddy. 

Note how red the calf is.  The cow blends into the spruce trunks.

I shovel his winter poop into four small, galvanized bucket loads and dump it beneath a tree at the edge of our woods, in a low spot behind the berm that edges the lake so it will not defile that water source. On our muddy paths, we find the distinctive oval tracks of 1000 pound + moose along side branches of new cranberry growth snapped off as tasty snacks by these hungry, herbivorous ungulates.  It is usually not until early June that we open the curtains in the morning to see a cow munching bushes a few feet away, with one or two gangly little calves nursing beneath her big belly.  I look forward to that.

In early May, we harvested about 20 gallons of birch sap before the leaves emerged, but the sap turned milky (bad) fast, and my effort at birch sap wine molded.  By mid-May, the first flowers are always those of wild currants, their small and modest mauve and white flowers emerging above snow covered root stock.  By the end of May - only two weeks after the yard was mostly covered with snow, I harvested dandelion leaves, flowers, and fireweed shoots for our first fresh salads, accompanied by biscuits flavored with citrusy larch tips.  Far less useful growth is the wild sweet grass that reached shin height in a week which, if left alone, would ascend to 6 feet by July and flop over and strangle all plants nearby.  So, an urgent, annual spring task of mine, while growth is emerging so quickly, is to weed whack tough, spiny devil’s club, wild raspberries and the wild grass over 7 days, one hour per day to make space and sun for more desirable opportunistic plants. 

Birch sap tap

Why raspberries, you might ask?  Who doesn’t like raspberries?  Here, they grow in thick stands  through underground runners as well as animal and bird spread seeds.  The dense growth is not allopathic chemically, but physically.  They deter any other plants except nettles and grow tall enough to entangle the branches of nearby shrubs and saplings. (Elsewhere, we grow five rows of domestic raspberries for fruit)

To reduce the population, I have to use a weed whacker blade to cut through dozens of canes per square yard the first year, after which I can shift to a weed whacker line for several more years.  This multi-year effort opens up space for more desirable ground cover to naturalize.  It delights me to see the dappled shade beneath birch and spruce populated by graceful ferns, white dwarf dogwood and starflower, pink prickly rose, (which is related to raspberries), and the wild currants, which tumble over and around spruce stumps.

I love my first morning sniff of the outdoors as soon as new growth emerges.  Every day smells sweet, and different, as a succession of plants come into leaf or bloom.  Even the sweet grass, as the name suggests, and alder leaves have a delicious scent.  

As I look through the windows of our log cabin, and walk up and down our paths through the property, I enjoy the evolution of two rather large and tangled rose gardens, and large expanses of “lawn” lovely all summer with white starflower and dwarf dogwood as well as domestic strawberries that naturalized into a ground cover along the lake shore.

My weeding efforts generate not only beauty but food and habitat.  I increase the number of cranberries I harvest from those pretty shrubs for juicing every fall.  The rose bushes grow nearby, where I gather petals for salads and hips (the fruit that follows the flowers) for vitamin C additions to winter teas.   Those little spruce and birch grow slowly for about the first 6 years and after that about 2 feet per year, for shade and windbreaks for us, and habitat and food for birds and martens.

This successional development of plants has developed into an enduring interest for me. Although I rather ruthlessly cut raspberries and devil’s club to the ground, I weed whack the wild grasses several inches above, in order to scrutinize what wants to grow here or there if given some sun and space.  I wander slowly with a roll of blue flagging tape, leaning down to mark tiny spruce and birch, as well as other slow growing, desirable plants.  My goal has never been a suburban lawn of grass.  I love the wild plants – but I admit to favoring the ones I extol here vs the invasive growth of alder, devil’s club, and sweet grass, which I endeavor to reduce, but not eradicate, in number and influence.

My newly published book can be found here:   https://www.amazon.com/Log-Cabin-Reflections-Off-Grid-Homestead-ebook/dp/B0BZN1FZR9/ref=sr_1_1   I hope that you enjoy it!

Friday, October 14, 2022

How Long Will My Alaskan Harvest Feed Us?

For anyone who lives far from a supermarket (whether that is several hours by car or weeks by ferry, plane, or snowmobile/snowmachine), surely there are few things more comforting than a full larder.  The satisfaction is increased, for me, by seeing rows and rows of glass mason jars full of food that I have grown or foraged, and then dried or pressure canned to enjoy for months or even years in the future.

Potatoes in cold hole
Tucked in the food shed and the Arctic entry are 40 jars (quarts and pints) of brassica leaves (cabbage, broccoli, cauliflower) and turnips, plus the broth resulting from blanching (a quick plunge in boiling water, followed by cold water, for better preservation).  I will open about a quart per week for side dishes or additions to soups, rice, and stews.  The tightest heads, about 15, are stored in the refrigerator for crisp salads.  I have concluded that I enjoy this texture better than (sorry) wimpy lettuce. With this bounteous harvest of reliable veggies, I am learning lots of new recipes from Indian and Korean sources, as well as other renditions closer to home.  British Bubble and Squeak is a new favorite, in both name and flavor/texture.

Other shelves are loaded with 60 jars of rhubarb, raspberries and cranberry and currant juice.  We drink the juice throughout the year, and mix them and the berries into sweet and savory sauces, like BBQ sauce, vinagrettes, fruit salads, chutneys, and desserts.  These plants yield enough for more than a year’s consumption, plus extras for gifts.

Of herbs, cilantro and nasturtiums always do well.  We consume the seeds as well as the leaves. Dill, fennel, chives, rosehips, and garlic all produced less than last year and will not last through the winter.  But I dried quarts of fireweed, sweet gale, yarrow, and berry leaves, as well as a year’s worth of mint, for teas, remedies and cooking.    

One section of the food shed

In the freezer, I squeezed in several gallon bags of blanched veggies, predominantly cauliflower, carrots (mostly for winter carrot cake) and celery, as well as wild lamb`s quarter, mint, and chives.

            Indoors, I have glassed about 150 eggs (about 4.5 gallons) in a pickling lime solution, which will store at room temperature for upwards of 9 months, as I have discovered from several years of doing so.  I rely on glassed eggs in late autumn through winter, when the hens molt (shed their feathers), and, in response to low light levels and temperature, lay fewer eggs.  If/when we run low, toward the end of winter, we do have powdered eggs, which I relegate to baked goods.  I also have 3 gallons of tomatoes plucked from the greenhouse, ripening in covered bowls with a banana for extra ethylene (for ripening).

In the cold hole are 50 potatoes – half of last year`s harvest.  Still, if I cook 2-3 potatoes per week,  this number will last us through March, when we get resupplied by snowmachine haulers.

In the oddly hot spring and rainy late summer, some fruits and veggies produced enough to enjoy fresh during the summer, but not enough to store long term.  This includes several squash varieties, including cucumber.  I have never yet nurtured a decent pepper harvest, though they are my favorite vegetable.  The weather was particularly ill-suited to spinach, peas, and beans.  Haskap bushes flowered very early in the sun (while standing in snow), resulting in few berries.  Not even the birds were interested.  Only 3 apples from one young tree.   Still no cherries.

Kitchen shelves. Spruce log walls.

We feared a low honey harvest (since the insects do not like to fly in rain), but they produced a very respectable 15 gallons of golden nectar from 4 hives.  Thankfully, none of them swarmed or absconded during the heat wave of 80+ degree temps in early June (because their population was still low at that date).  I am not averse to sugar, but as beekeepers, we have bought none for years and use honey in all recipes that require sweetening, including baked goods and a quart per 6 gallons of homemade beer (so that libation is technically a braggot). This year`s harvest will last more than a year.

Sadly, we took no bear or moose this year, so our meat expenses are the same as anyone else`s. With inflation - Yikes!  However, with the bones and fat of every ham or chicken I buy, I make tasty broth for flavoring rice, beans, soups, and other dishes, and snacks for the carnivorous hens.  The pike in our lake have cannibalized each other so we caught none of edible size this summer.   We took a break from raising meat rabbits for two years and consumed our last quart as rabbit mole over pasta last month.  

Today is October 11.  Snow fell on the  4,600 ft mountains near us last week, and this morning we see Termination Dust on the  closest mountain of 2600 ft .  The temperature dipped to 35, leaving frost on the brown, crispy ferns and green grass.  Ten noisy flocks of geese winged their way south throughout the day.  So yesterday was likely the last salad I could gather directly from the gardens, as many leaves wilt in the cold, although  celery, cabbage, and the leaves of root vegetables (radish, carrots) are sturdy enough to linger after a few frosts. 

The hardy, late season greens that fed us included mustard, nasturtium, and lettuce leaves, topped with blue borage flowers (taste like cucumber) and orange nasturtium flowers (taste like horseradish).  I added the sole cucumber that grew, plus several of the smallest tomatoes.  I served it with a honey mustard dressing with currant juice, topped with croutons from a bread I made earlier in the week and little hard boiled eggs from our smallest hen.  A pretty and tasty dish.  

Hardy mint remains harvestable… for a few days.  I gathered a huge pile and will blanch it this afternoon so that we can enjoy a favorite condiment – a hot Indian chutney – through some of the winter months.

I will miss many of these fresh flavors during the winter, but our seasonal distinctions encourage me to savor every last bite in autumn.  Then, I look forward to cozy soups and stews for winter, such as vegetarian African peanut soup (with sweet potatoes or winter squash), split pea soup with ham (secret ingredient: dried orange rind), potato soup with all the ingredients one associates with loaded baked potatoes, and whatever creative concoctions bubble up on future chilly days.