Woodchuck Stew

The time has come

The gardener said

To post unpleasant blogs

Of does and bucks 

And slugs and flies

And ravenous groundhogs.

Groundhog AKA woodchuck AKA PEST!
I have experienced rage, pure murderous, blinding rage only once in my life.  It was provoked by a woodchuck.

This woodchuck, or ground hog as some would call it, could distinguish among the different sounds of various car motors and knew when a car pulled into the driveway whether it was one of the roommates who had a dog that would go after the woodchuck.  It also knew which car was driven by someone who would go after the woodchuck with a shovel.  And it knew the sound of my car.  When I pulled in, he would stand on his hind legs and laugh at me.  I swear it.

We tumbled rocks down the existing woodchuck holes.  We contemplated pouring gasoline down the holes and throwing in burning sticks of wood.  We contemplated dynamite.  The lettuce was gone.  The spinach was gone.  The broccoli was sorely nibbled.  

We built a fence around the garden.  We buried the chicken wire a foot deep in the hard clay soil and swore no woodchuck would breech our defenses. Two new woodchuck holes opened up—right in the middle of the corn patch.  

That’s when I experienced rage.  I did go after that woodchuck with a shovel.  But I never caught up to it.  There was always another hole for it to escape into.  Eventually, we both moved away.

My friend Jane has a woodchuck deterrent she swears works really well.  She puts a large square of snow fencing (the woven orange mesh type) down on the ground over any hole she finds and secures it with rocks.  The woodchucks will not cross it.  They will eventually move away.

I don’t worry about woodchucks anymore.  My son has a .22 and he knows how to use it.  He is pretty firm in his conviction that you only kill what you eat, and I am firm in my conviction that I would rather eat a woodchuck than see one, so it all works out.

He looked huge but weighs only 2.14 pounds.
Woodchucks, for all their mass, don’t yield that much meat.  The woodchucks average around 2 pounds after all the fur and organs are discarded.  That 2-foot critter was mostly just voracious appetite and fur.  It should be noted that woodchucks, as well as most other small food animals such as squirrel, have scent glands that should be cut out as soon as possible to avoid tainting the meat. When dressing woodchucks, look for and carefully remove without damaging any small gray or reddish brown kernels of fat located under the forelegs, on top of the shoulder blades, along the spine in the small of the back, and around the anus.

I have no family tradition to lean back on when it comes to cooking woodchuck, so I use my beef stew recipe.  Here I made it with the last of my root-cellared carrots and potatoes, but any root vegetables are in stew.  Also any meat.

The meat tastes more like squirrel or rabbit than anything else – they are all rodents, after all.  I did not weep to see the stew disappear.

Mystery meat stew? No! It's woodchuck stew!

Woodchuck Stew 

Serves 4 to 6
This recipe is adapted from a beef stew recipe from Recipes from the Root Cellar.  A similar recipe appears in Serving up the Harvest.  

2 pounds woodchuck, cut into serving pieces

It's pretty obvious how to cut the critter up.

1/2 to 2/3 cup all-purpose unbleached flour

1 tablespoon dried thyme

1 teaspoon dried oregano

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

3 to 4 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

1 large onion, thinly sliced

1 1/2 cups beef broth 

2 cups home-canned or store-bought diced tomatoes with juice

1 cup red wine

2 garlic cloves, minced

12 to 16 ounces rutabaga or turnips, peeled and cut into 1-inch cubes

12 to 16 ounces carrots, peeled cut into 1-inch cubes 

12 to 16 ounces parsnips, peeled and cut into 1-inch cubes

16 ounces thin-skinned potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch cubes

1. Pat the meat dry. Combine the flour, 1 teaspoon of the thyme, and oregano in a shallow bowl.  Season generously with salt and pepper.  Add the meat and toss to coat.

2. Heat 3 tablespoons of the oil over medium heat in a large saucepan or Dutch oven.  Lift the meat out of the flour, shaking off the excess, and add a single layer to the pot.  Do not crowd the pot.  Let the meat brown, turning as needed, about 5 minutes.  Remove the meat as it browns and set aside.  Continue cooking until all the meat is browned.

3.  Add the remaining 1 tablespoon oil and onion to the Dutch oven and sauté until the onion is soft, about 3 minutes.  Add the broth, tomatoes, wine,  garlic, and remaining 2 teaspoons thyme.  Stir to scrape up any stuck bits from the bottom of the pan.  Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to a slow simmer.  Return the meat to the pan.  Partially cover the pan and let simmer until the meat is tender, 2 to 3 hours.

4.  Add the rutabagas, carrots, parsnips, and potatoes to the pan and let simmer until the vegetables are tender, about 1 hour.  

5.  Taste and add salt and pepper as needed.  Serve hot. 

Recipe adapted from Recipes from the Root Cellar by Andrea Chesman.  ©2010 Andrea Chesman.  All rights reserved.

Gratitude for Spring

Daffodils are having a banner year.

What a spectacular—albeit dry—spring is unfolding in the Northeast. The sunny weather is exceptional, nothing to take for granted.  We are all in a frenzy of planting.

Well, not quite a frenzy.  It is time to plant greens and peas—and water them, too.  We don’t set out tender plants, such as tomatoes, until Memorial Day weekend.  Freezes will still come, if past springs, even last year, has taught us.

I heard of a woman who used to live in Virginia, then moved to Vermont.  Each spring she takes her children down to Virginia, just to experience spring.  Spring in Vermont, she says, is too fleeting.  It isn’t a real season, just a moment between winter and summer.

I’m taking a moment to express gratitude for the way spring unfolds in Vermont.  It is less fleeting than it is subtle. You just have to know when to start looking for it. 

Spring begins with the maple syrup run, which starts with snow still on the ground.  In my household, we made a record five gallons this year.  It was an unusual season with a long, long stretch of ideal cold nights and warmer days when the sap boiled down to fancy for a prolonged period.  This was followed by a stretch when the sap didn’t run at all because it was too cold, then another stretch of ideal weather.  I am glad to be done with sugaring, but also delighted with all the wonderful syrup that will make great gifts year-round.

I am grateful for the ramps and fiddleheads that are springing up in the woods.

There was enough snow pack for fiddleheads and ramps, but mushrooms are not to found.
I am grateful for daffodils and the other spring bulbs that brighten the garden and the migrating birds that stop at the bird feeder. I am grateful for the rhubarb and raspberries and blueberries that are just breaking dormancy and promising another season of desserts and jam making.

Raspberries are just breaking dormancy.Dependable rhubarb is just breaking dormancy.
I am grateful for an energetic son who is digging a new asparagus bed and who has declared war on the bishops weed that invaded the garden a few years back and won’t be controlled by digging, weeding, soil sifting.  This years plan: a 1-foot trench around the affected bed, to be followed by black plastic for a year or more.  

Bishops weed -- a more pernicious invader I have never seen.
I am not grateful for bishops weed that invaded the garden, moles that ate my tulips, cluster flies that invaded the house, and black flies that attack me. Even gratitude has its limits.

First Harvests!

It’s mid-April.  The ground is still mostly frozen up here in Ripton.  But the harvest season has begun.  

One month into sugaring and still boiling light syrup.
The first harvest is always maple syrup, and no, we haven’t pulled our taps yet.  We tapped early in March – on Town Meeting Day (first Monday in March) as is traditional.  This year we ended up with 17 taps on 7 trees – more is more. We have almost reached the three-gallon mark and are still boiling light or Grade A. And, it is cold enough to enjoy the added heat from the kitchen stoves. 

Last week spring peepers started singing in our neighbor’s pond.  We thought that meant the end of sugaring because once the frogs sing, the trees bud.  But the cold weather that returned put a stop to all that spring springing, and the sap is flowing like crazy.  My son just poked his head in the door and said that he was going to collect.  “Hope you like an endless sugaring season,” he said.  I do!

Freshly harvested Jerusalem artichokes.
Meanwhile, second big sign of spring: Jerusalem artichoke harvest.  From our one-pound planting a few years ago, we harvested about ten pounds this year (leaving plenty in the ground to grow for next year’s harvest).  Still, it is more than enough to roast and turn into pickles.   That’s about the extent of my cooking with Jerusalem artichokes.  Sure, they can be made into soups, added to stews, and generally substituted for potatoes or parsnips in any cooked dish.  Raw, think of them as a North American jicama and julienne them and dress with lime, or just add their crisp, white flesh to any salad for some bland crunch.  They won’t go to waste.

There is going to be a pretty long stretch between now and the first asparagus, so having something to harvest feels pretty good – even if it isn’t the green foods I crave.

Roasted Jerusalem Artichokes
Roasted Jerusalem Artichokes
Makes 3 to 4 servings

1 to 2 pounds Jerusalem artichokes
2 tablespoons walnut oil or extra virgin olive oil
Coarse or kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

1. Preheat the oven to 500° F.  Lightly oil a half sheet pan (preferred) or shallow roasting pan large enough to hold the Jerusalem artichokes in a single layer.
2. Peel the artichokes or scrub them well.  Cut into 1-inch pieces.  Put them on the baking sheet, sprinkle the oil over, and toss with two rubber spatulas until well-coated.  Spread out in a single layer.  
3. Roast for about 15 minutes, or until the chokes are tender and well-browned, shaking the pan occasionally for even cooking.  Shake the pan more frequently toward the end of the roasting time as they will go from well-browned to burned rather quickly. Sprinkle with salt and serve at once.  

He Was a Mean Ol' Rooster

He was a mean old bird, but quite handsome. 

My neighbor Robert has a flock of lovely hens and a couple of mean ol’ roosters who work those ladies hard.  Too hard.  The roosters had to go and one of them came to me – live, in a large box.

I’d never cooked a rooster before and I was more than curious. 

It fell to my son to reach a swift hand into the box and grab that rooster by the feet.  He quickly swung the bird onto the counter, on top of a long sheet of plastic wrap, holding the wing against the bird’s body.  I reached over to hold down the bird’s wing and we wrapped that bird in a snug Saran wrap blanket.  We’ve done this before.  It is a good way to immobilize a bird if you don’t have a cone.

Then outside went Sam and the bird and…

Back in the kitchen (it was minus 6°F) outside, we scalded the bird in my 5-gallon stock pot and placed it in a large plastic bin.  In minutes we plucked that bird clean as we marveled at its long, narrow anatomy and beautiful feathers.  Back onto the sanitized counter, Sam eviscerated the bird.  I gave it a good wash in the sink, patted it dry, and bagged it.

Take your time with roosters, and they are more than worth eating, as are older birds.  Roosters differ from older hens in that their bones are larger and sturdier (harder to cut) with more cartilage and denser muscles.  Also the breasts are much smaller, and there is a greater proportion of dark meat.  But the cooking rules are the same.

*Let the bird age in the refrigerator for 2 to 4 days.  You can keep them in a container of water or just wrapped in plastic (after washing and drying well).

* Marinate for at least 12 and up to 48 hours, if you are planning to eat the meat. This isn’t necessary if you are simply making stock.

* Cook long and slow.  In a Dutch oven with a lid, cook at 200° for at least 6 hours, or until the meat is falling off the bone.  The manual for my slow cooker says High equals 212°F, Low equals 200°F, Simmer equals 185°F, and Keep Warm equals 165°F.  If you are going to use a slow cooker, it is worth checking to make sure that Low is the proper temperature for your slow cooker; many run higher than that.

* Old birds vary!  This is not a standardized piece of meat.  Do not plan to serve the day you are cooking the bird, unless you plan to start very, very early in the morning.  Far safer is to cook the bird a day in advance and give it as much time as it requires to become tender.  Then skim off the fat, reheat, and serve.

 It was marinated for 12 hours in pinot noir.

I used a pretty classic coq au vin recipe, coq being French for rooster, or cock.  I cut the bird the bird into serving-size pieces and marinated it in pinot noir with a shallot, carrot, garlic, and celery for about 12 hours in the refrigerator. Next, I browned the pieces while I reduced the marinade.  Then I strained the marinade and used it as the base of the cooking liquid, along with additional broth to keep the bird covered.  When the meat was almost tender enough, I added sautéed mushrooms and garlic, sliced celery and carrots and pearl onions.

 Veggies are added when the meat is tender.

Parslied potatoes were the perfect accompaniment.  I’ve never enjoyed a better coq au vin, and it was so satisfying to know that I was turning a mean old rooster into a dish that was created with just that in mind.

Coq au vin with parslied potatoes, bread, and more wine.

Winter Salads II

Spring is coming

I know spring is coming because we have tapped the maple trees. 

and like most gardeners, I am dreaming of the garden season to come.  But in the harsh light of day, or rather the lengthening hours of soft afternoon light, I am contemplating what preserved foods need to be used up.  Not much as it turns out.

The last of the vegetables in the root cellar and what’s this?  Another bag of frozen green beans? And frozen peas?

My heart doesn’t soar looking at the last of the vegetables in cold storage, but I do crave green food – be it fresh or frozen. Turning not-fresh vegetables into salads will be the challenge of the day.

 Roasted Vegetable Salad with Maple-Soy Vinaigrette

When I was working my way through college, I briefly held a job in the kitchen of an assisted living residence.  My boss—the meal planner—was old enough to be a resident herself, and salads tended to be easy on dentures – a scoop of cottage cheese garnished with canned peach slices or a square of lime jello in which shredded carrots were suspended, topped with a dollop of mayo.  All served on a limp leaf of iceberg lettuce. Yum. 

But there was one salad I liked (minus the iceberg): frozen peas, sour cream, and dried dill or dill seed.  I like it still, and it makes a fine salad for this time of year.

 A simple salad of just three ingredients: frozen peas, sour cream, and dill seeds. And, of course, salt and pepper.

What else? Frozen green beans will make a fine salad with canned white beans and the last of the pickled roasted peppers.  Sure, it is close to the original three-bean salad made with canned green beans, canned wax beans, and canned kidney beans in an overly sweet dressing.  But this iteration makes really fine use of frozen green beans (or wax beans, if you have them).  I am sure it will add to everyone’s enjoyment to know that this salad, which dates back to the 1800s, was J. Edgar Hoover’s favorite salad and believed to be one of the final dishes he ate before his death.

 Two bean salad. Choose any vinaigrette to dress this.

The last few turnips, carrots, and beets in the root cellar are a little soft, and here and there are browned, decay spots.  Not a problem—I’ll just cut them away.  The vegetables will be fine roasted.  They will be even tastier tossed with a maple-soy vinaigrette and bedded on some winter greens.  That maple-soy vinaigrette makes every vegetable delicious.  The combination of the umami characteristics of soy sauce matched with the sweetness of maple syrup and rounded out with balsamic vinegar—I don’t think I have a finer salad dressing in my repertoire…

Roasted Vegetable Salad

Serves 4

1 large beet, peeled and diced

2 carrots, peeled and diced

1 parsnip, peeled and diced

1 rutabaga, peeled and diced

1 whole garlic head, cloves separated and peeled

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

4 to 6 cups mixed tender winter greens (Belgian endive, escarole, frisée, napa cabbage, or Savoy cabbage), thinly sliced

Maple-Soy Vinaigrette (recipe follows)

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

1. Preheat the oven to 450° F.   Lightly oil a large shallow roasting pan or half sheet pan.

2.  In a large bowl, combine the beet, carrots, parsnip, rutabaga, and garlic. Add the oil and toss well.  Transfer to the pan and arrange in a shallow (preferably single) layer.  

3. Roast the vegetables for 35 to 40 minutes, until the vegetables are tender and lightly browned, stirring or shaking the pan occasionally for even cooking. 

4. Just before serving, on a large platter, toss the greens with about 1/4 cup of the vinaigrette. Arrange the vegetables on top and drizzle with another 1/4 cup of the remaining dressing and toss again. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Serve at once, passing the remaining vinaigrette at the table. 

Recipe adapted from Recipes from the Root Cellar by Andrea Chesman.  ©2010 Andrea Chesman.  All rights reserved.

Maple-Soy Vinaigrette

About 2/3 cup

2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar

2 tablespoons soy sauce

2 tablespoons pure maple syrup

2 garlic cloves, minced

1/2-inch ginger, peeled and minced

3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

Whisk together the vinegar, soy sauce, maple syrup, garlic, and ginger until combined. Whisking constantly, drizzle in the oil until the mixture emulsifies. Serve immediately or store in the refrigerator in an airtight container for up to 1 week.

Recipe from Recipes from the Root Cellar by Andrea Chesman.  ©2010 Andrea Chesman.  All rights reserved.