fiddlehead foraging frolic!

Early May is the time when I always think of the luxuriant fiddlehead patch behind my dear grandmother's last home in Center Sandwich. It was on Mother's Day weekend when I first came upon this patch while walking in the woods with my sister: a low, damp area a bit too dry to be called swampy, but decidedly squishy and messy on the shoes. Intrigued by the funny-looking curls popping up seemingly straight out of the ground, we brought my parents out to see. Little did I know these curlicues were edible, but I knew after my parents became excited about them, and harvested a bowl for dinner.
Fiddleheads, as the edible parts are known, are the infant fronds of the majestic Ostrich Fern (Matteuccia struthiopteris), a large fern which grows from erect crowns in damp places and spreads by rhizomes to eventually form large stands, if conditions are right. The Ostrich Fern prefers dappled shade but because of its stature needs an area free from underbrush where its 3-4 ft fronds can grow unimpeded. It is a native of northern North America, and it is also grown in gardens as an ornamental, forming a beautiful backdrop for shade perennials. Ostrich Fern prefers acidic soil, a consideration if you want to plant it in your garden because you will likely need a soil amendment to help alter the soil pH.

Cindy's ferns: for looking only, not for picking!

Here in Ithaca, my aunt Cindy has a beautiful patch of Ostrich Ferns in the back of the backyard. It is shady, it is acidic, it is open, and the fiddleheads are popping up like a whole orchestra right now. Later, she and I will rip up the garlic mustard that always threatens to shade the fronds before they are big enough to fend for themselves (I've always thought it unfair that such an annoying weed has the names of two of my favorite food items). I think we both feel protective of that patch. She feels especially protective, of course, and so I am not allowed to harvest any of them. I have solemnly promised that I will not. However, they serve as a useful barometer. When I saw how fast those fiddleheads, which come up all crowded together at the head of the crown, were unfurling, I ran off to a few likely locations and made a small harvest. I'm not sure I can reveal where I found them, because the location might not be entirely legal, but I promise it was nobody's private garden. In any case, a traditional Yankee sense of secrecy seals my lips where forage locations are concerned.

unfurling frond sheds its brown coat

If you would like to search for fiddleheads yourself, keep in mind the growing conditions they prefer, as I describe above. You should also be careful to choose the right species of fern, as there are many other fern fronds unfurling at this time of year. They can look similar, but there are a few details that help the edible fiddleheads stand apart. Ostrich Fern fiddleheads are bright, clear green, and smooth. When they first emerge they are covered with a translucent chestnut-brown coat that easily flakes off. The fiddleheads of other fern species might have a brown coat, but the coat will be lighter in color and more closely clinging. A note: you should pick only as much as you will eat that day, as fiddleheads become bitter if frozen and are tastiest eaten on the day of picking.

While I was looking for fiddleheads, I also came across a small but healthy stand of ramps. My landscape colleague Jenna, of The Mushroom Forager, had generously given me a bunch of ramps earlier that day. Once I had smelled their sweet perfume and had seen their vividly green leaves, I had caught the bug. I wanted to search some out for myself. I can tell you, Ithacans, that if you take a walk along upper Fall Creek, you will almost certainly see some ramps. Please, please harvest them responsibly (a mantra repeated and practiced by Jenna and Ari). I have also since learned that ramps may be available to plant in your garden, though I do not know the success rate. Cindy found some for sale today and planted them near the Ostrich Ferns. Part of me is a little nervous that they may have been dug up from the wild for nursery sale.
With my ramp haul doubled, I had enough to use in making dinner that night (and of course, I was in the mood to cook with my goodies!). Here is a recipe for one of my favorite meals at this time of year (I know! I haven't posted a recipe in ages). This recipe takes a short amount of prep in terms of chopping and mixing, and once you start cooking it takes only half an hour to put it on the table.

Ramps, rinsed and ready

Pasta Primavera with Ramps, Asparagus, & Bacon
To feed four generously.

2 big handfuls ramps (approx. 2.5 packed cups very roughly chopped ramps, or double the amount in the photo above)
1 bunch asparagus, tough ends snapped off, cut into bite size pieces
8 strips thick-cut bacon (or desired amount, I include a little extra for noshing while cooking)
1 box mezzi rotini pasta (or other shape pasta of your choice)
2 tablespoons butter
1/2 cup bread crumbs
2 tablespoons grated Asiago or Parmigiano Reggiano cheese 
3 eggs, beaten
salt and pepper to taste
olive oil or vegetable oil

Other: large serving bowl

Put a large pot of water for pasta on to boil.
Ready a vegetable steamer insert in a medium saucepan with an inch of water, and put the asparagus in this pan on medium-high heat, covered, for 7 minutes.
Put a large pan (non-stick if possible) over medium-high heat, add 1 tablespoon olive oil, and sauté ramps until wilted and stems are tender, about 5 minutes. Add a small pinch of salt and stir frequently. Set ramps aside on a plate.
When asparagus is done, drain immediately and set aside on plate with ramps.
Preheat oven to 350.
Melt butter in microwave or on stovetop. Using a fork, mix butter with breadcrumbs and add cheese. Spread on a cookie sheet and hold in readiness.
Cook bacon (can use same pan as for ramps) until crispy.
At this point, put buttered cheesy breadcrumbs into oven for 3 minutes (careful, they burn quickly!)
When pasta is cooked al dente (I like it a hair beyond al dente, really), quickly and thoroughly drain, then invert pasta into large serving bowl. Immediately add eggs and stir well, so eggs cook on the hot pasta. Add vegetables and crumble bacon into pasta. Stir well. Take breadcrumbs out of oven, and distribute over top of the pasta. Enjoy!

I recommend a cold Pinot grigio or light beer with this dish. I myself had Sam Adams Noble Pils, which is lemony and refreshing.

 Now I want to try Jenna's recipe for ramp pesto! It sounds delicious!

eminent domain : evil or benign?

I had a good conversational debate with a neighbor this morning on the issue of eminent domain. As I left the house and crossed the street, I noticed a new sign our neighbors across the street had posted. Tacked to a tree in their front yard, the sign read "We want a sidewalk and bike lanes. Place sidewalk here" with an arrow pointed down to the base of the tree (about 7 feet into their current property). The issue was therefore on my mind when I arrived at the bus stop at about the same time as the other neighbor.

A bit of context before I go into our debate: Hanshaw Road has an active sign culture. A fellow on the corner of Hanshaw and Warren changes his handpainted signs, which present political viewpoints and quotations, on a regular basis. He's fought for the right to post these signs on his property, when challenged by neighbors. Two houses down from me, the woman on the corner of Hanshaw and Blackstone frequently posts political signs and anti-fracking posters. Over the past few weeks, new, professionally produced signs have cropped up all along Hanshaw. Some read "We Want the Walk!" and others "Say No to Eminent Domain on Hanshaw." The residents along Hanshaw Road generally do not shy away from public discourse. The city's plan--to put in a sidewalk on the northern side of Hanshaw Road, and widen and pave the shoulders to make them negotiable for bicyclists--has created a rift between neighbors.

here they come!

Finally, the moment you've been waiting for: photos of flowers that I actually photographed today, outdoors, in Ithaca, NY. Sure, those little crocuses look a bit anemic, but they're doing the best they can!

Okay, okay, a bit of a caveat: there is a little hill on Tower Road (near the landscape architecture studio), between Garden Ave and East Ave, adjacent to the Azalea Garden, which seems to be sheltered enough that the snowdrops and crocuses bloom there first. A microclimate, perhaps. I've been keeping an eye on this hillside, and on my way to the library today noticed snowdrops poking through the leaves in between clumps of snow. I love the French name for snowdrop: perce-neige, which literally means "pierce snow." It evokes for me the feeling that this tiny plant is dealing a blow to winter. En garde, hiver! Le printemps avance!

As I was kneeling in the mud and leaves with my camera, I heard a shout from across the street. "Liz!" I turned. "Ha! I knew it was you," said my classmate Matt. "Who else would it be?"

Ha, it's true.

waiting for the clouds to break

Very humid and warm today, a day I am happy that my room is in the basement. Trying to stay in production mode here, but here are just a couple of photos of recent doings:

Orchids were brought outside to luxuriate in the jungle-like air.

I have a few new orchids. A friend in horticulture gave me a Lycaste, an orchid with wrinkly pseudobulbs and big leaves. It is a rescue case, I had to cut off a bunch of rotten roots, but it does have some healthy-looking new roots so I hold out hope.

She also gave me two bitty baby phaelaenopsis orchids. We're talking tiny wee here. The size of my fingernail. For the size of the leaves, they have very impressive roots!









This brings the grand orchid total to 6 (one of the baby phaels will go to Cindy but I am nursing it for now).

Pig and Buffy didn't think much of the heat.

spring sprung for sure, bringing news with it...

The very tall cherry tree in the Bradbury's backyard is set off nicely by the Norway spruce behind it. Right now it is shedding a snow of petals all over.

Deadlines loom. There are Great Expectations and very little time. If there weren't beautiful things like this cherry tree around, I think I'd go nuts.

By the way, it seems likely that I will be in France this summer. I've been accepted to an internship at the Potager du Roi (King's Kitchen Garden) at Versailles. The National Landscape Architecture School of France (École Nationale Supérieure du Paysage) is located at Versailles and manages the Potager du Roi. The other intern (also a Cornell LA grad student) and I will be sharing a studio apartment in Versailles.

I am hoping to have some time this summer to work on personal landscape design projects, such as my parent's woodland property in New Hampshire. It all depends on the dates of the internship, which I am expecting to hear... well, yesterday... but am trying not to be the impatient American. I am reminded of when Mike and I spent some time in Tennessee and I had a small amount of culture shock at the slower pace of southern living ("Why is she taking so long to make your espresso?" "Relax... they have a slower pace of life down here, and we're not in a hurry.") It was true, not just a stereotype! I suspect there is a similar spirit, a certain anti-hectic attitude, in France. I think of Peter Mayle's repairmen (see A Year in Provence) and their flexible attitude towards scheduling... So I am trying not to think about the price of airline tickets going up, and trust that they will respond to my emails soon.

Just three more intense weeks, and then I'll be able to breathe a bit more easily. Meanwhile I am trying to soak up spring as much as possible from the window and while biking home late at night, hearing the sound of cheeping peepers and smelling wafts of crabapple blossom along the dark road.

a dumpling day, and later, chestnuts

Saturday was the beginning of fall break, and it started out gray and chilly--a dumpling sort of day. Anyone who knows me pretty well knows that I love gyoza--Japanese potsticker dumplings. They are very easy to make, and great party food. Plus, they are not so bad for you, as you use only 2 tblsp oil and can use a lean cut of pork, or substitute ground turkey, chicken, or tofu (though the taste will not be the same). I thought the Bradburys (my family-away-from-family) would like dumplings, so I decided to make them for lunch. I went out and bought round dumpling wrappers from the local asian-food shop.

Pork Gyoza
Equipment: 1 large non-stick pan with lid
Ingredients:
-round rice-flour dumpling wrappers
-filling: 1 bunch scallions, 1 knob ginger root, 1 peeled carrot, ~2 lbs pork (I usually use ground pork, but that was not available so I used two packages of "stir fry pork" and cut it into 1/4" dice), and the leafy part of the Napa cabbage.
-sauce: 1/2 cup soy sauce, 1 tblsp hot sauce, 2 tblsp sweet/sour duck sauce.
Instructions: Finely chop the cabbage and scallion (white part and as most of the tender green part), grate the ginger (peel it first w/a vegetable peeler), shave the carrot into thin strips, dice the pork (or not if using ground pork), and mix it all well in a large bowl. Season with salt and pepper (not too much salt as there will be salt in your sauce).
Prepare your dumpling wrapping station: 1 small bowl of water. Dumpling wrappers. Plate. Get another person to help you. Put a dumpling wrapper on the plate. Dip your finger in the water. Run your wet finger around the inside edge of the dumpling wrapper to make a 1/2" wide damp area. Put a small amount (~tblsp) of filling in the center of the dumpling wrapper. Fold the wrapper in half and pick it up, holding and pressing the wet edges together. Crimp the edges of the wrapper together, pressing firming (to make a fan-like shape, see photo). Add a touch more water if the edges are not sticking. Don't worry if your first efforts are ugly. The important thing is that the filling be contained (no holes). Cover the wrappers if you take a break--they dry out quickly. There will be enough filling to use the whole package of wrappers, plus a little left over.
Mix sauce ingredients in a small bowl.
Cooking: This is easier with a non-stick pan, or better yet, a multi-tiered bamboo steamer. I will assume you do not have a steamer (since if you do you probably know how to make dumplings already). Heat 2 tblsp canola or peanut oil in a large non-stick pan. Adjust heat to medium-high. Add as many dumplings as will fit, leaving 1" of space between dumplings. Immediately jiggle pan and loosen dumplings with a spatula to prevent sticking. Continue jiggling pan frequently for 2 min. to heat dumplings through and coat with oil. Add 1 cup water and cover pan. Steam for 4 minutes, or until dumpling skin is translucent and dumplings have puffed slightly.
Transfer to plate/serve to hungry person(s) and make another batch.
These really are easiest to eat using chopsticks, as forks tear the dumpling skin and the filling spills out.
When I had finished making the dumplings, and had managed to snag a few for myself (they disappeared very quickly), the sun came out. Cindy and I went to the Cornell Orchards and bought apples, paw-paws, and cider (Cornell cider is THE BEST I have ever tasted). I bought some cider and apples for my parents, whose arrival was expected that afternoon. On the way back, we decided to stop at the Plantations Arboretum to see if the chestnuts had dropped. A few weeks ago we saw a woman poking in the leaf litter under these trees, and we asked her what she was doing. She seemed shy and a bit reluctant, but admitted that these were indeed the edible type of chestnuts. "Are they good?" we asked. She paused. "Yes. They are good to eat." She was looking for nuts very earnestly in the pouring rain. We resolved to come back when more nuts were ripe.
Many more nuts had fallen when we went back, but it looked as though a few other people had hunted for them. The husks are too spiny to handle (you'd need thick leather gloves), but the shiny brown nuts easily popped out when we prodded and squished the husks with our feet. Most of the husks on the ground had been similarly squished. The nuts were pretty small, but we gathered about 3 cups of them. Back at the house, I scored the shell of each nut at its pointy end and graded them into larger and smaller batches. Last night we roasted them on a cookie sheet, for 10 minutes in a 400 degree oven. They were delicious. Because they were small, the skin was thin and peeled off easily. They were sweet and had a flavor reminiscent of pistachio nut and winter squash. The flesh was somewhat mealy, but in my experience with chestnuts the flesh is always somewhat mealy.
Note: I should point out that these are chestnuts from the Chinese Chestnut tree (Castanea mollissima). Horse chestnuts (Aesculus hippocastanum) are not for human consumption. Always be SURE of the identity of the tree (if possible verify with an expert) before eating any of its fruit.
The rest of the weekend was really nice. Parents finally arrived after taking "the scenic route" (i.e. getting impressively lost) and we had a late dinner at Moosewood (mmmm dark chocolate ricotta mousse). Sunday I woke them up early, plied them with coffee, tea, and fresh pastries from Ithaca bakery, and whisked them off to Taughannock Falls for a morning hike on the gorge trail. We stopped at the farmers market for a good while, and then to the Bradburys for a luxurious brunch. Peter is the consumate brunch chef. We had pancakes, sausage, bacon, eggs, fruit, coffee, tea, cake, and leftover dumplings. Then everyone digested as I drove to Watkins Glen. My father and Becky took hundreds of photos. It was a brilliant day.

the snow semester

Previously I wrote about how the weather is really not so bad here. I may have revised my assessment a bit.
The snow is pretty, yes, and though it was grey most of today the sun did shine brilliantly through my apartment windows from 3 to 4:30. But for the most part, this is the annoying, depressing time of winter. The depressive quality can be attributed not only to the precipitation and lack of sun, but also to the very cold and the difficulty of getting around.
That sun streaming through my windows improved my mood quite a lot. Maybe I need to get one of those full-spectrum lamps. Due to a variety of factors, I haven't been feeling super happy this week. Lack of sun, lack of exercise (I intend to asap, possibly skiing this weekend? X that, skiing too expensive), adjusting to the rhythms of the new semester, lack of boyfriend, and anticipation of stress. Yes, I am an anxiety junkie: I stress about stress.
The obvious solution to feeling low at the beginning of the semester is to get involved with my work. Then once I take some steps towards getting on top of things, I'll take some time for reflection and relaxation. The low feelings will pass, soon.

Note on previous post: the people upstairs have been pretty quiet since I sent that email to my landlord. Not sure if he spoke with them or what, but quiet is good anyhow.

sister friend

I just want to note how nice my sister's boyfriend is... he has agreed to a road trip to Ithaca, NY next Friday! I am looking forward to showing them around my adopted hometown!

today's sunset

Another beautiful sunset. I'm happy with my camera. This is using the zoom and it's not even blurry! I did use the balcony railing as a tripod. Too cold to stay out there for long though! 12 degrees! Brrrrrrrr. That's the top of McGraw tower on the right--the tower that some still-unknown people (rock climbing enthusiasts?) put a pumpkin on at Halloween, 1997. And when I say "on," I mean on the spire. The tippy-top poky bit. 173 feet off the ground. I guess I've been into measurement statistics of landscape features in recent entries. Hmmm... I wonder why...

not all snow and gray at all

Before I came to Cornell, everyone said "Oh geez it's all gray and gross in the winter there." Actually I have not found this to be true at all. The weather is more like in the U.K., where in many parts there are 10 different types of weather in one day.
Views like above are a frequent occurrence out the windows of the studio. The huge picture windows 8 feet to my right.
Things are pretty okay when a waterfall like this is in the center of my town. Even if the temp was in the teens (I think?) when I took this picture of Ithaca falls yesterday. Note house at top left of falls for scale. The falls is roughly 75 feet high and 150 feet wide (I looked it up.
Measurements vary).
One thing is true: it is cold here. And windy. I need to bring a blanket to studio. These big picture windows let in a lot of cold air. The hot water bottle in my lap helps. We get banshees whistling through the cracks. Especially late at night, when the wind also makes the window frames creak.