Fig Preserves or Figs Yum Yum

   It's 'bout that time. All around town the Brown Turkey figs are starting to drip with that sticky sweet goodness. Go get your pickin' party together and head on over to your favorite fig tree. Mine just happens to be this gigantic tree in The Daughter's front yard. It's a beauty. Over 10 feet tall and 14 feet wide and this year, thanks to all that rain, loaded with figs. The birds love 'em, the neighbors love 'em and so do folks just passing by. The tree hangs over the sidewalk in an open invitation to share. That's why we call this fig tree "The Giving Tree." So if you happen to be in the neighborhood, just help yourself.

 

   One of the things I like best about talking recipes with The Baby Sister is that you immediately realize she spent years as a school teacher. Her explanations are thorough, logical, and clear. I hope I can do her justice.
Fig Preserves A Step by Step Guide or Canning for Dummies!
   Assemble all of your canning tools! You will need the following:
       1. Canning jars with screw lids and seals
       2. A ladle
       3. Canning funnel
       4. 4 quart heavy Dutch Oven
       5. Pound of sugar (you will not use the whole thing)
       6. A jar lifter or an oven mitt
       7. Approximately 4 quarts of figs

A few notes about the canning supplies: My sister uses both 4 ounce and 8 ounce jars. She buys these in bulk from her local Wal-Mart or they can be ordered online. She likes to have a few of both sizes available because you never know how your figs are going to pour out into the jars. Your last jar just might need to be the small size.
     

   

You will use the ladle for spooning the liquid in the jars. Spoons just don't work as well. You should trust my sister on this.

If you don't have a plastic jar funnel, you need to march right out and buy one. My sister said that this little $3 tool is indispensable. So go get one NOW. Again, she got hers at Wal-Mart. You can order nicer ones online, but I don't know why you would want to. This one works just fine.

Use a heavy pot for cooking your figs as in heavy like cast iron. Of course, Caphalon works well, or if you are lucky enough to have gourmet cookware, then go for your All-Clad or your Le Creuset. In our family, cast iron does the trick.

My sister uses an oven mitt to lift her jars, but I saw this jar lifter online and thought it looked fun. I probably would not use it enough to justify the purchase, even though it's pretty cheap. Also kitchen storage is always an issue at my house so this would end up at the back of a cupboard where it would only be seen by the mice. So, use the oven mitt.

I hope you are still with me, now we are ready to talk about the figs.

   You will need to put up your figs as close to harvesting them as you can, but if you don't have time right away, simply refrigerate the figs in an open container. DO NOT WASH THEM and DO NOT PEEL THEM. Just remove the stems. Your processing will get hot enough to kill any germs. I guess if they are covered in bird poop, you can wash them, but otherwise leave them alone. 

    Fill your Dutch oven up to the top with figs (usually right about four quarts) and go ahead and pour the sugar over the unwashed figs. The ratio is 1 quart of figs to 1.5 to 2 cups of sugar. That's a lot of sugar, but you can rationalize it by saying this is candy or dessert in a jar.

     Let the figs sit in the sugar overnight or for several hours uncovered.

     When the sugar has settled, you are ready to cook. Start the figs on low, low heat and cook them very slowly. Your figs will take several hours to cook down. 

      At the same time that you begin cooking the figs, put your jars in your dishwasher along with the screw tops and the seals. Run the cycle using the HOT temperature wash and dry cycle. 

      Hopefully the figs will be about ready when the dishwashing cycle is finished and the jars are sterilized and still hot. The figs should be brown and have a good bit of syrup. Don't let them get too dark or they will be more like candied figs instead of the consistency of preserves.

      Remove two or three jars at a time with a hot mitt (or your jar lifter) from the dishwasher and put them on the counter. Put your wide mouth funnel over one jar and using your ladle, fill it with figs until it is 1/4 inch from the top. Then ladle more syrup, completely covering the figs (this is important...if you leave figs uncovered, they will not be good). Leave only 1/8 of an inch from the top of the jar, which is the space needed for the seal to compress. If you have any leftover fig syrup, save it to pour over ice cream!

       As you finish each jar, put the lid seal down and lightly screw the ring to the jar. Do not fully tighten the ring yet. Leave the jars on the counter to cool. Soon you will hear the sound of popping as the jar cools and the seal forms a suction over the jar. This is good. When the jar has cooled to the touch, you may screw the lid on tightly. Four quarts of figs will make roughly 6-9 half-pints of preserves. In case you forget, a half-pint is 8 ounces. Even though my sister taught school, I had to verify this fact on the internet. Don't worry, she did not teach math. Label and date each jar with a Sharpie. Be very, very proud of yourself!

       If you have any jars that do not pop, simply refrigerate them and use them within the month. All of the other jars can go in your pantry. Your fig preserves will be good for a year or so, but I am betting that you won't have any jars left when the next harvest rolls around.

       I can this "Canning for Idiots," because my sister has made it so simple, anyone can do it, including me!  

       Here's a picture of Little One enjoying the fruit of The Baby Sister's labor of love...Figs Yum Yum!

       

Little One and Little Two Tell All

As narrated by Little One:

     Nonna always has something up her sleeve. I usually try to go along with her plans. I have learned it makes life easier for everyone. 

     She picked me up one day last week and we went back to her house. I was all dressed up in my Christmas clothes. I have a whole series of outfits that Nonna bought on sale last year and I am dressing up in a different one every day. She is very happy when I wear them. She tells me over and over how cute I look. I agree. I think I do look pretty cute.

 Today we made Christmas cookies. It's a tradition. 

I had a lot of fun. Nonna is not one of those neat cooks. 

She always makes a big mess in the kitchen so she doesn't care if I make a big mess either. 

We had flour everywhere. Flour on our hands. Flour on our noses. Even flour on our toeses. 

Nonna laughed really loud when I said that. 

 I am really good at rolling out the dough. 

I put the flour on the rolling pin and roll it around and then I press it down real good with my hands. Then I pick out the cookie cutter I like and press press press it into the dough. 

Then Nonna has to figure out how to scrape it up and put it on the pan. 'She's pretty good at that. Then we shake the sprinkles. I really like that part. 

I shook the jar so hard I used up all the red sprinkles. Nonna just laughed.

I have my technique perfected at this point.

I'm also pretty good at posing, too!

Here is Nonna trying to help me get the dough off of the rolling pin. 

Oops, I guess I didn't use enough flour.

 Hurry up and take the picture, please. I need to get back to work.

We are finished with the cookies but I am making my very own doughballs.  

It's a very important job!

Nonna and I also decorated a gingerbread house. I love it. 

She said more gumdrops went into my tummy than on the house, but I'll never tell.

Now it's Little Two's turn

As narrated by Little Two:

     Nonna and Pappy have been talking about taking me to Cheekwood. They want me to see Santa and some live reindeer. I am not really sure about sitting with a stranger named Santa, but I am excited about seeing some reindeer. 

    Here we go. The reindeer are under this tent outside. They are named Comet and Vixen.

 Wow! I like the reindeer. They have big horns called antlers that look so heavy.

I really don't understand why they don't fall over.

 After we see the reindeer we go inside and stand in this line. I am getting a little nervous.

 I would rather go back outside and look at the reindeer again, but nobody is listening to me.

 I kept thinking, "No, no," but Mommy keeps telling me that everything will be okay. 

 I am not buying it.

 This Santa is one smart cookie. He lets me sit in Momma's lap. 

I really didn't know he was there.

 I am not too happy yet, but this lady is trying really really hard to get me to smile.

 I decide to help her out.

 Whew! Glad that is over. Now I get to go see the trains.

 I like the trains a lot more than Santa. A whole lot more. 

The trains and the reindeer are definitely my favorite things. 

Not Santa. I hope somebody got the message.

 Yep, it's been a long day.

 One last picture of me saying cheese and then I am off for a nap.

After all, a girl has to get her beauty sleep.

This is Little One and Little Two signing off. 

We would wish you a Merry Christmas, but I am

sure that you will be seeing us before then!

The Many Traditions of Christmas

     Among the traditions that our family has embraced for Christmas, the lighting of the Advent Wreath and the Christmas Eve Birthday Party for Jesus are two of my favorites. I never spent any money on either party, just used the simplest of decorations for each, yet both hold a certain poignancy of memory for me.
    As for the Advent Wreath, we adopted this tradition at home primarily because it was a tradition celebrated in our church. Each Sunday during the four weeks before Christ's birth we would light a candle during Sunday evening dinner and read a portion of the Christmas story from the book of Luke. We would have a candlelit dinner on those Sundays and it was always a special time.  I remember my children asking as their father read part of the story when they were little, "When is the baby getting borned?" "When does King Jesus get here?"
    I love that as the candles burned lower, the anticipation of the Holy Child's arrival was building. For my own Advent Wreath I always simply gathered pine boughs and holly from my yard and wreathed them around an old brass candle holder I had picked up at a garage sale. There were four white candles and either a fat candle for the middle or a single red candle in a candlestick in the center. Nothing fancy. Just what was on hand.

Source: flickr.com via Roberta on Pinterest

Source: abbey-roads.blogspot.com via Rachel on Pinterest

Source: sjarmerendejul.blogspot.com via Marta on Pinterest

Source: herz-allerliebst.de via Ashley on Pinterest

I love the simple white plate filled with fresh eucalyptus
and stacked with white candles....lovely!

Source: sinnenrausch.blogspot.com via Christina on Pinterest

Source: hegegreenall-scholtz.blogspot.com via Lisa on Pinterest

The mixed greenery used here is especially appealing.

And how appropriate that wooly lamb's ear is used to 

represent the Lamb of God.

Source: onefunmom.com via Katie on Pinterest

Here is a sweet baby proof design, imagination required!

Source: google.com via Elizabeth on Pinterest

Our birthday Party for Jesus was also simple and always took place on Christmas Eve. The Husband would read the Christmas story in its entirety. The long awaited babe had finally arrived. There was usually a great sigh of relief. The final light in the Advent Wreath would be lit. Then the lights were all extinguished and the children waited in darkness while I scuttled into the kitchen to bring back the cupcake with the single candle, surrounded by unlit cupcakes back into the room. Each person would have a chance to blow out the single candle and talk about why he or she was thankful for Jesus. Then we would talk about the meaning of Emmanuel, God with us, and the fact that Christ is the Light shining into the darkness both in the world, and most importantly, into our hearts. My heart is warmed that my children are embracing this tradition with their own children. It's a tradition so simple and easy to execute, but one fraught with great meaning.
   Here are some additional ideas. There are a host of resources available for the celebration of Advent on Pinterest and other blogs. Don't get overwhelmed. Just keep it simple.

Source: themobsociety.com via Becca on Pinterest

Source: squidoo.com via Michelle on Pinterest

I love Christmas, but what I love the most, is the truth behind Christmas: The King of Heaven coming to earth in the form of an infant, a child born to be the sacrifice and the atonement for the sins of the world. It is at once both a wonderful and terrible truth, is it not...Emmanuel, God With Us.

Here She Is Again...The Christmas Bride

    A friend of mine recently asked me if The Christmas Bride was coming back again!

    "Of course," I replied. 

    And here she is in all of her glory...

     One of our oldest family Christmas traditions was borne out of desperation rather than necessity as the age-old axiom asserts. In the early years of our marriage my husband and I argued incessantly over the annual purchase of the Christmas tree. It is not that the man was the incarnate Ebenezer Scrooge, but rather the one who tended to view life from an immensely practical side (I suppose ole Ebenezer did too). My husband's point of view was based on the fact that since we traveled 500 miles to spend Christmas with my family of origin every other year, the purchase of a Christmas tree for a house that would be vacant on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day was totally superfluous. But I, who was raised by the Queen of Christmas Decor, knew otherwise. 

      It mattered little whether the house was occupied on the actual day of Christmas or Christmas Eve...the tree was an essential component of the festivity and celebration of the season. Yet my husband would not budge. Thus I was forced to badger, cajole, plead, and use every resource available to convince the recalcitrant man that a Christmas tree was a vital purchase EVERY single year.

     Once I had won this battle, I had little time to rest on my laurels before another problem arose. The tree was purchased and firmly ensconced in the living room but alas, there were very FEW LIGHTS and virtually NO ORNAMENTS. What was a girl to do? I was desperate. I had won the right to have the tree each year, but who wants a naked tree in the house...staring at you night after night waiting and begging to be dressed in some appropriate holiday finery. And I knew better than to go to my husband and ask for more money to purchase items that he already struggled to find necessary. And so in my desperation I prayed for inspiration and inspiration I found.

     The first year I popped popcorn, bought cranberries and made garlands galore until my thumbs were sore from the needles going in and out, in and out as I strung for hours on end. And when I realized the next year that I was in the same boat as before because used popcorn and cranberry garlands are only good for the birds... I prayed once again. On the hunt in our tiny apartment, I dug through an old trunk to find carefully preserved bows, ribbons and leftover tulle from our wedding. I also found a few bits -- a yard or two here and there-- of several laces that I had purchased to embellish a dress or two. Soon these ribbons and laces found their way onto the tree and over time have become the tradition in our home. Now there are ribbons from our daughter's wedding and some gorgeous antique lace given to me by a special friend over 20 years ago that have been added to the original collection.

      Each year these ribbons and bits of lace more than garnish our tree-- they serve as the tree's primary decoration and help to make each tree a object of beauty. 

    When my daughter was about six or seven, she was helping me drape the tree in its finery when she turned to me and said, "Look Mommy, our tree is a bride." 

     And I stepped back and squinted my eyes just so. And then I saw it. The tall green lady in her odd bits of lace and ribbon had suddenly become a very beautiful bride. And so it has been for the past thirty-five years that all our Christmas trees are brides. Each one different and each one beautiful in her own right. 

      I love it. 

     For me, it is another extension of the picture of Christ and his love for His people, the Church. We are His bride and He is the Bridegroom. And each year when we celebrate Christmas, we celebrate the mystery of the unlovely who become the lovely by the grace, mercy, incarnation, and sacrifice of God. And each year our tree stands in her bridal glory as a tangible reminder of that glorious and powerful love.

      And here is our tree in wedding finery, another reminder to me of the faithful love of God and the fact that despite the darkness that prevails in the hearts of men, Jesus is the Light of the World.

     

     

Momma Told Me It Was So

   Things I learned while I was at Momma's this week:

1. A sasanqua bush is a member of the camellia family, but is not a camellia per se. The sasanqua may also appear to be similar to a japonica, but it is not to be confused with one. I don't know if this is horticulturally correct, but my grandmother told my Momma so that makes it so in our family. Sasanquas, japonicas and camellias thrive in Southern Alabama and Northwest Florida, but all three species apparently originated in China and Japan. According to my mother, my grandmother (my mother's mother), was known for her camellias. She even had a horticulturist who would come over to her house in Samson from Montgomery to graft and take rootstock from her camellias. She was very proud of these aristocratic beauties that had been grown from very old "family" stock. The Sasanquas are currently in proud display at my Momma's house. They have a beautiful luscious double pink bloom. Apparently these sasanquas are also well-loved by the bees who were having their own little pollinating party all over them this week, but I managed to find a few buds that had not yet fully opened.  I brought them into the house and put them in a vase for Momma to enjoy. I know they won't last long, but they are gorgeous in the meantime. 
2. Momma and I both like Kettle corn. This is not necessarily a good thing. Between the two of us we just about demolished a whole bag in two days. Again, this is not the best thing to discover about your mother -- that you have a shared addiction to kettle corn.
3. My grandfather had fat knees. That is apparently where I get my fat knees. Great. I think I could have lived another fifty years and been fine not knowing this. My grandfather also played the saxophone, the violin, and the piano. He was the musical one in the family. My mother must have inherited her ability to play by ear from him. Apparently, I got the fat knees, but I did not get any of the musical genes. Sigh. 
4. My great-grandmother, Annie Frances Brooks (Momma Frankie) knew how to wring a chicken's neck. She had a housekeeper named Pearlie, but Pearlie was a bit squeamish and drew the line at wringing a chicken's neck. So my great-grandmother took over the task. Apparently she was very good at it. I am not sure why this was important for me to know.
5. My mother is still using her dictionary to look up new words. She also likes to talk about the finer points of grammar. We spent some time discussing whether or not it is redundant to say "falling down" or if one should just say "falling." My mother is concerned that "falling down" is similar in redundancy to the expression "close proximity." I told her I would check it out and get back to her. 
6. I am now in possession of the famous family recipe for cornbread dressing, i.e., dressing that is served with turkey. While I was cleaning out a cabinet at Momma's, I found a copy of the recipe in my aunt's handwriting with little notes about my grandmother, great-grandmother, and great-great-grandmother and the particular way that each prepared the recipe. My sister has modified it and modernized it, but I wanted to print it in its original form. If I were as smart at Colonel Sanders with his 17 different spices for fried chicken, I would patent and copyright this tried and true family gem. It is moist, delicious and amazing. When my daughter and I get together to make it in a couple of weeks, we will represent the fifth and sixth generations of women in our family to make this dressing. Oh, and for you Non-Southerners, dressing is NEVER confused with stuffing. They are two totally different animals. Dressing is served with turkey and welcome at my table, stuffing is not. Here is the recipe in the original format:

Cook a 3-4 pound hen a few days early. Simmer the whole hen. Even if you like the white meat the best, be aware that the thighs, legs and back make the best stock, so use the whole hen. Separate your stock and put it aside. Good chicken stock is like gold and will serve as the basis of your dressing.

Prepare and cook a skillet of cornbread using about two cups of meal. Remove from skillet and crumble it up. Let the cornbread sit out, cool down, and dry out. You want your cornbread to be slightly stale. This step can also be completed several days in advance.

Make a dozen biscuits. After you eat a few, let the rest sit out and dry out. Like the cornbread, they work best in the dressing if they are slightly stale. This is yet another step that can be completed several days ahead.

Now you are ready to get started.
     Dice celery and sweet white onion until you have 3 cups of celery and 3 cups of each. Saute slightly in a couple of tablespoons of butter in a large deep skillet. (Momma said that we were not wild about celery, so she cut this back a bit.)
     Crumble and pack cornbread until you have 4 firm cups
     Crumble biscuits (or rolls) until you have 2 cups.
     Mix bread (cornbread and biscuits) with the onion and celery.
     Add four cups of chicken stock to the bread mixture. It will be soupy. Salt and pepper to taste.
     Let this set-up overnight in the refrigerator.
    The next morning, heat it back up and add more stock to the bread mixture as needed (usually about a cup).
     Beat 3 eggs and combine into mixture by hand.
     Butter your baking dishes. Cook at 325 degrees for one hour. Increase to 350 degrees or higher for 15 more minutes or until brown on the top.
     Note: If you are desperate, you can use canned stock.

Well, I am not going to be wringing any chicken's neck, but I will be making my own stock. I am not yet desperate enough to put canned stock in this recipe. But it's nice to have plan number two in case I run out of time.

Bon Appetit, ya'll.

Time for Some Comfort Food

   Comfort food. We know what it is and how it tastes. When we are hurting or sad or just need a touch of home, we reach for it. Your comfort food might not be my comfort food, but both of our comfort foods have a common denominator: they are designed to make us feel better. One of these selfsame foods in our family is a very humble baked spaghetti. It is not difficult to make, and you will certainly will not find this recipe gracing the pages of any gourmet magazine, but that's not the intention. This is not elevated cuisine. It's not meant to impress. In the the South we call it down-home food. It takes you back to your roots or brings a touch of familarity and comfort to your palate.
   My momma introduced our clan to baked spaghetti, and I have been making it for my family on a regular basis and taking it to people who have had surgery or a death in the family or welcomed a new baby or just moved into the neighborhood. It never fails to elicit the same response. Nice. Delicious. Welcome. Familiar. Family friendly. If that's not the essence of comfort food, I don't know what is.
   Here goes this super easy dish:
          1 sweet onion, finely chopped
          2 Tbsp butter
          3 cloves of garlic (finely chopped)
          1.5 pounds of lean ground beef
          salt and pepper to taste
          (basil and oregano may also be added according to taste)
          2 jars of chunky Ragu or similar tomato sauce (you can make your own if you prefer)
          1 small can tomato paste
          1 small can chopped black olives
          2 Tbsp brown sugar
          1 pound vermicelli
          4 cups grated sharp cheddar cheese
          (mushrooms are an optional addition)

In a large pan, saute the chopped onion until almost translucent; add garlic and continue sauteing for a minute or two. Add ground beef. Brown the beef thoroughly and drain off any excess fat. Salt and pepper to taste; add additional herbs if desired. After draining, add 2 jars of Ragu Chunky tomato sauce and the small can of tomato paste. Add up to 2-3 Tbsp of brown sugar and the small can of chopped black olives. Simmer while preparing pasta. Cook 1 pound of vermicelli al dente and drain well. In a large deep dish (the deeper the better) layer tiny amount of sauce to coat the bottom of the dish, then 1/2 of the pasta followed by 1/2 of the sauce and then 1/2 of the cheese. Repeat: pasta, sauce, cheese. May be frozen at this point or refrigerated for up to one day until ready to cook. Cook at 350 degrees for 45 minutes or until golden and bubbly. Deliver and wait for the phone call. A effusive thank you and a recipe request are a given with this dish. Easy. Delicious. Classic comfort food.

 image courtesy of Dexie Wharton

P. S. In our house, we eat this dish in "spaghetti sandwiches": white or whole wheat bread slathered with the ingredients of the casserole! No need for french bread in our home! Simply add a salad or fresh fruit and voila, you will have a happy family! 

 

Ahhh....

       

One for You and One for Me

   Let me tell you, when Honey gets a bee in her bonnet, you better watch out. She has been talking about me coming over to make Christmas cookies for the past year. It's something she calls a "tradition." Oh brother.
    She and my mom (The Daughter) set the date and even invited my Uncle Brother to come over to help. They just didn't know that Honey and I had it all under control.
     Here I am arriving at Honey's for the big day. I am getting a personal escort inside by my Unky -- he's the who belongs to Nanny and Little Two. He stopped by Honey's house to pick up something before he heads off to B'Ham to be with his wife (my Aunt Nanny) and brand new baby girl (Little Two) for Christmas. I guess my cousin Little Two will come to the cookie making party next year. Oh no, I am gonna have to learn to share before then. At least I have another year to work on it.
  

This is the cookie making station. You can see
 that Honey has taken a few short cuts.
Yes, that's store bought icing.

     We didn't waste any time and got right to work. That's my very own bib I am wearing, but that apron is almost an antique. It's the one my Mommy wore when she and Honey made Christmas cookies long long ago. Honey is going to add my name to the apron. When she gets around to it.


Uncle Brother came over to help me out. I offered to let him taste some of the cookie dough but he said he was watching his waistline. I not only tasted the dough, I also had to taste all of the cookie cutters, too.

I think I might be able to get a job in a testing kitchen one day.

What do you think?

    Mommy was there to keep an eye on me. She didn't want me to eat too much of the sweet sticky stuff. But Honey reminded her how much my Mommy loved to eat the dough and said that she would even sneak around behind Honey's back to eat some more. I decided not to be sneaky. I was completely up front with my dough eating. Can you tell?

     I offered everybody some of my dough, but I didn't have any takers. That's fine with me. I just ate it all.
I say forget the cookies, just eat the 'makings!
     The final touch was shaking out the red sprinkles all over the cookies. This was my favorite part next to...yep, you guessed it...eating dough.

         Believe it or not this is hard work. You have to hold the shaker just so. I think I have it down to a science now.

        I was all dressed and ready to leave when I spied Honey's Christmas tree. I was hoping that maybe one or two of those packages under the tree just might be for me. Too bad I can't read or I would have opened a few. Instead, I just knocked them around a bit. No harm done.

      In case I don't see you again before Saturday, have a Merry Christmas!