Ever-present in my refrigerator are free-range, local chicken eggs. (I’m such a lucky girl!) I rarely feel like my kitchen is empty because with these, I know I can cook up something quite tasty, even if it’s simply a fried egg. So when Hank Shaw shared his guidance for preserving egg yolks, I knew I had to give it a try. I’ve come to appreciate food preservation that requires minimal effort — in this case, the salt does all the work. Apparently, salt can transform an egg yolk into a Parmesan-like substance to take your roasted vegetables or pasta to another level. You can read his post for the details, but basically, bury the yolks in salt for a week, then wrap them in cheesecloth and let them dry out for another week or more. Seeing the yolks dangling in my refrigerator made me very pleased!
After a week or so, I wrapped them in cheesecloth and hung them from an oven insert I bought during my stint at Williams-Sonoma, but I’ve never actually used for its intended purpose. The yolks were tacky and oozed (a bit) through the cloth.
Monday night I went to Braum’s for a few groceries. I wanted to buy Parmesan, but they didn’t have any. No problem! I have my egg yolks, I thought. And tonight I finally tried them grated on my supper — zucchini pasta with pesto, onions, and tomatoes. It was delicious! The perfect salty richness to complement the vegetables.
And if you’re wondering what I did with the egg whites — well, this guy got a special treat, of course!
June 17 | I’m quite fond of the trellis I made from two T-posts snagged on bulk trash day, a stalk from last year’s Maximillian sunflowers, and hemp twine.
I’ve been daydreaming of traditional pickled cucumbers since reading this article last August about “the beauty of fermented foods.” I have grown and pickled slicing cucumbers before, but this year I wanted to grow chubby ones that would look so pleasing in mason jars labeled “dill,” “horseradish,” or “hot pepper” — each jar a new experiment in fermented flavors.
I unsuccessfully tried to start some plants from seed, so I was happy to find pickling cucumber transplants from Renrick’s Farm and Garden, via the Oklahoma Food Co-op.
July 13 (left) and July 16 | Batch No. 1: basic fermented cucumber pickles! After consulting Nourishing Traditions for guidance, I started with a brine of 2 T sea salt in about 3 cups of water, added about 1 T McCormick pickling spice, and two garlic cloves. To help retain crunch, I added to the jar two leaves from Brian’s grapevine. Then you simply leave them at room temperature for three days (or more, to taste). So good, and I’m just getting started. Watch out, Claussen!
Tuesday night I picked wild onion from my front yard. Or maybe it’s wild garlic? I can’t find a definitive answer. Anyone? Then I made a wild onion/garlic omelet for supper. I cooked it all in a smidgen of smoked jowl fat I scooped from the jelly jar stored in the frig. I am certain said smidgen was responsible for elevating the entire experience. Dregs of boxed wine accompanied the meal.
I think I planted the wild onion/garlic a couple of springs ago after I collected some on one of Jackie Dill’s foraging walks. Or maybe I got it at the Friendship Seed Exchange? So much doubt in this post. But I am certain of this: Freshly mowed wild garlic or onion is one of spring’s most delicious scents, despite the inherent waste.
I cleaned up after supper (I’m trying to get better about cleaning as I go) and started on wild onion kimchi. But was it onions or garlic? And did it matter? I combined my puzzling odorous bulbs with several bundles of freegan limp green onions and — viola! — wildish Allium kimchi!
Let’s just get this out of the way: The fermented okra turned out pretty slimy.* But if you have no strong aversion to okra goo, then you’ll love it! (Reassuring, no?) The process is amazing in its simplicity, as it turns crisp okra pods into a tangy, tender snack that will keep for months in the refrigerator. It tastes similar to okra pickled with vinegar, but wins the preservation contest (if there were one) because it’s easier to make and imparts all the beneficial bacteria inherent in fermentation.
My go-to fermenting resources (Wild Fermentation and Nourishing Traditions) offered no guidance on okra in particular, but I figured the Nourishing Traditions recipe for pickled cucumbers would work just as well. Luckily Brittany has fermented everything, so I turned to her on day 2 when there was none of the telltale bubbly activity. My guess is the viscous brine inhibits the bubbling.
I started with a brine of salt (1/4 cup), water (2 cups) and whey (1/2 cup) , to which I added two seeded jalapenos, several garlic cloves, and about two tablespoons of mustard seed. (If you don’t have whey, just make a saltier brine. Want to know more? I explain this a bit more in depth in the post about fermented beets.) I made sure the pods were submerged to prevent mold and covered the crock with a tea towel. I tasted the pods each day, and on day 3 I decided they were tasty, although the flavors continue to evolve in the refrigerator.
Not sold on fermenting okra? Here’s some other things to do with it: recipes, decorating, and another recipe.
*Edited to add: It’s been three days since I transferred the okra to the refrigerator, and I feel like my characterization of “slimy okra” might have been off-putting and not really fair. I’m snacking on it and noticed it’s not slimy at all. It’s the brine that is slightly slimy, and you don’t have to drink the brine, thankfully.
It’s been quiet around here, so I thought I’d tell you about my evening. For the last two-and-a-half hours I’ve been a whirlwind in the kitchen: I started batches of fermented okra (more on this later in the week) and pickled eggs, concocted an apple-pecan-raisin bake, and assembled a three-bean salad (an adapted version of this recipe).
I was in a bit of a funk when I got home — but no more, thanks to this mishmash of food, an equally eclectic music selection (Janis Joplin, GreenMan, Jack Johnson, and Tori Amos), and the breezy, overcast evening.
Now that I feel quite accomplished, I think I’ll go snuggle up with a book.
Tonight’s evolving countertops:
P.S. I’d like to talk to the person that thought 2-inch tile and grout would make a suitable kitchen counter.