Fireweed Predicts Early Winter + Alaska Horseradish Recipe

 Folk wisdom here says that when the fireweed flowers die and shed their dandelion-like seeds, count 6 weeks to the onset of winter.  Well, on August 15, the fireweed flew.  By mid-September, all mountains over about 4000 feet wore a mantle of termination dust (initial snow).  By Autumn Solstice, our yard sparkled with frost every morning, shriveling the ferns.  The last day of September, a light snow fell, and gossamer thin ice floated on the lake.  On October 5, 70% of the lake was covered with a thin skim of ice, although the wind and rain that night melted it.  Time to put the polystyrene over the outhouse toilet seat. 

Thanks to the fireweed's clue, we worked busily to ready our property for eight months of winter.  We emptied garden water from 5- 55 gallon drums, cleaned flower pots with diluted bleach, planted bulbs and seeds that require cold stratification (like garlic, poppies and delphinium).  I cleaned and rubbed wooden tool handles with linseed oil, mulched the gardens with fallen birch leaves and mucky chicken straw, plugged in the heated poultry waterers.    

When our hens molt (shed old and regrow new feathers), they do not lay eggs, and subsequently, during a dark winter, they lay fewer than in summer.  So I am pleased to have glassed 150 eggs for winter eating.  This means that they are stored in a solution of water and pickling lime, which coats the shells and keeps the eggs shelf stable at room temperature for many months.  The longest I have stored any this way is 9 months, but Mother Earth News reports 2 years!  

The final vegetables that I harvested were potatoes (100!), horseradish root (see recipe below), and an abundance of green tomatoes in the unheated greenhouse which are ripening indoors now. I look forward to making a roasted tomato/onion/jalapeno salsa.  Sorrel, cabbage, and onions remain outside even when temperatures drop to the 20s.  

One new idea to enhance our winter experience is a bit of a test case.  Like many homes, our door and window areas are drafty.  And drafty in an Alaskan winter is problematic.  So I bought used blankets from second hand stores that I sewed  and strung over rebar rods flush over the window frames behind our decorative drapes as an extra layer of defense at night, which, let's face it, is LONG during this season. This reminds me of my chilly 1904 vintage apartment when I attended grad school at Washington University in St. Louis.  We taped plastic sheeting to the inside of every window because the old, water circulating radiators were so ineffective.  Perhaps the Alaska blanket method will work better at retarding exterior cold and retaining heat from our very effective wood stove. We will see.  Warmth is good. (Update: it works well! At +6 degrees F outside at breakfast time, the temperature just inside our double paned windows but inside the blanket is a chilly +49 F. However, two layers further, past the blanket and decorative drape, the temperature at the kitchen table is a comfy +66 degrees.

Our winter water situation remains inconvenient.  Bryan unplugged the on-demand water heater for the kitchen, filled the 55 gallon interior cistern, and installed our 23 gallon aluminum tank over the woodstove.  We will top these off about twice a week by underground pipes until the temperature drops to about +10 - +20 F.  After that, we string hoses across the yard.  

I think we are ready for winter.

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HORSERADISH SAUCE RECIPE

Combine: 

¼ cup of horseradish root, grated or chopped finely.

¼ cup mayonnaise

¾ cup sour cream or plain yogurt

1 tsp - 1 TBS vinegar  (to taste)

1 tsp - 1 TBS dijon mustard (to taste)

salt and pepper.

NOTE 1:  You can make your sauce MILDER by adding the vinegar to the roots as soon as you cut them.  I waited 5 minutes and this was so.  Vinegar stops the enzymatic process that releases the sulfur compounds.  Similarly, you can make your sauce HOTTER by delaying the vinegar - one correspondent said that he waits 45 minutes!!!  I think that next year, I will delay for 20 minutes. We'll see...

NOTE 2:  You can color your sauce by adding synergistic flavors. Here,  red beets and the green leaves of nasturtium and sorrel  are still growing at the same time that I harvest the horseradish. 

Enjoy!

Highbush Cranberry Harvest and Alaskan Recipe

My adult version of Halloween Trick or Treating is to gather highbush cranberries when they are red and ripe in the autumn.  In cool weather (40s F), I amble around the hundreds of plants on our property, delicately raking the glistening red fruit through my fingers and depositing them in a bag slung over my arm.

 

Mature, fruit bearing plants range from waist high to 15 feet here, with an airy arrangement of opposite maple-like leaves on slim, upward curving branches. (see photos below)  Both in spring and fall, they are very pretty.  This time of year, the foliage varies in color as far as the eye can see - green, yellow, orange, red, and burgundy - depending on whether their locations are sunny or shady.  I pick a gallon at a time of the reddest fruit, letting the orange ones imbibe their full complement of sunny goodness for a few more days.  

Most bushes prefer to grow in dappled shade under or near birch trees.  But the “blue ribbon” producers thrive in a sunny thicket in front of the lake where no birches grow.  I puzzled over this anomaly for a while until I remembered all of the waterlogged birch trunks we had hauled out of the lake back in 2007 and 2008, to ensure safe passage for docking float planes.  Based on the birches leaning precipitously over the water elsewhere on the lake, I presume that the root balls of those erstwhile trees probably drowned in saturated shore side soil, and tipped into the water.  In the meantime, they created an ecosystem conducive to my beloved cranberries.

As I wander about, kicking yellow birch leaves, I can feel that the cooling land is getting firmer under foot.  I breathe in the musty scent of the woods, and listen to the rasping sound of drying and brittle leaves as they rub against each other.  I pop a few of the tart, juicy fruits into my mouth and feel them squirt out their load of vitamin C.  To me, this is the iconic taste of fall.  What a pleasure these daily excursions are.  They stimulate all five of my senses.  

After each day's harvest, I rinse the berries and sort out any debris before popping them in a bag to store in the freezer until I have enough to go through the process of assembling, using, dismantling, and cleaning my manual food mill.  Unlike bog cranberries, these have a flat seed to extract, so I set up two bowls - one to receive the juice (for people), and the other to collect the seeds and pulp (as a winter treat for the chickens).  Most of the juice I sweeten with our newly harvested honey and drink thick, like a nectar, hot or cold.  Some I set aside unsweetened, to add a wonderful flavor to barbecue sauces, vinaigrettes, and fruity desserts. 

As a child, my exposure to cranberries was limited to canned jelly on Thanksgiving.  Now I nurture the plants for the spring and fall beauty as well as their tasty, vitamin rich addition to my larder.

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Recipe for Barbecue Sauce:

2 cups fresh, unsweetened cranberry juice

2 cups beer

2 cups molasses

2 cups vinegar

1 small can tomato paste

1/2 cup black coffee

Dried orange rind, about 1/4 of a fruit

Herbs and spices to taste.  We like it hot, so add a lot of hot dry peppers and garlic.  I also like a "dark" flavor so I add cloves and cinnamon.  

Simmer and cook down a bit to thicken.  Flavors combine best if consumed the next day or many hours after cooking and resting.