BBQ Pulled Pork Sandwiches

Today the rain came back. The weather has been so fine in Seattle this spring. When the sun shines my productivity slows to a crawl and I am swollen with gratitude that I don’t have to be indoors.  Perhaps I ought to be indoors, but I lack the willpower to plant myself in front of a computer or a stove when it’s 70 degrees outside, and the birds are chirping, and it’s still sunny for hours after dinner.  Our cupboards have become bare, because how on earth could I have spent any of those precious sunny minutes in a grocery store? Children, eat this leftover macaroni and cheese and these adorable petit peas from our freezer and then let’s go outside.  Yes, you can have a popsicle.

But now it is raining and I will spend this day indoors.  I have had a hunk of pork shoulder in my fridge for a few days that I kept meaning to roast but, you know, I was distracted. The sun was shining.  This morning I realized that  this roast was destined to become shreddy, tangy pulled pork.  A dinner that will evoke the sunny days of the past week, but would never have been possible without today’s rain.  

What the World Needs Now Is Parsley Sauce

I’ve been wanting to write this post all winter, but I needed to wait until parsley season. I didn’t know parsley had a season until I started making Parsley Sauce.  When you eat tablespoons of Parsley Sauce straight off the spoon you notice that sometime around October the quality of parsley takes a dip.  And one necessity for this recipe is a decent bunch of parsley. But very soon farmers market tables will be covered with big fat freshly cut bunches of the stuff , and parsley will be selling cheap.  The time has come.  I am here to tell you about Parsley Sauce, The Wonder Condiment. I became enamored of Parsley Sauce when I realized my six year-old would eat anything coated with it.

    

ME: Sweetie, I see that you’ve stripped the chicken of all of it’s delicious crispy skin.  Now will you please eat the bland, bare meat?

HER: NO!

ME: Why don’t you dip the unappealing meat into an emerald green pool of nutrient-rich Parsley Sauce?

HER: …scarf scarf scarf scarf….

Drizzle it on roasted meat or vegetables.  Stir it into risotto. Add a dollop to soup.  Dip bread in it. Drink it from a mug.  There’s nothing fancy about Parsley Sauce – it’s mostly parsley & olive oil.  But there are two ingredients that make people cock their heads after a taste and wonder ‘What is that..?” It’s tarragon & fennel seeds.  They don’t make a fuss, but they somehow boost the parlseyishness of Parsley Sauce.  Another selling point: Parsley Sauce will keep in the fridge for three weeks or more.  And you can freeze it.  The Wonder Condiment in name and deed.

Strip Steaks Cooking On An Open Fire, Raindrops Falling On Your Nose

Pemco Insurance has a clever slew of ads on Seattle city buses that speak to the individualism of Northwest types.  My favorite: ‘Blue Tarp Camper, we’re a lot like you … a little different.’  They also address Socks and Sandals Guy and 4-Way Stop You Go. No You Go. No You Go. Guy.  A friend of mine recently quipped that Pemco needed to create an ad for the Cold Drizzly Night Griller.  I am loathe to camp under a blue tarp, I will never wear socks with Tevas, and I know the driver to the right always goes first at a 4-way stop.  But rain does not stop my impulse to cook over a fire, I admit it.  Occasionally my husband and I get to use our big, cheery yellow patio umbrella to shield us from the sun, but it’s been much more handy as a shelter to keep the coals dry while we grill steak in February.

Rabbit Stew, à la Rainier

My family spent this weekend camping near Mount Rainier.  It was dry and it was sunny and I was so so grateful for that.  I’m a reluctant camper at best, and a little sunshine helps a whole lot.  We packed  light – I was determined to keep it simple.  What’s better than a hot dog cooked on a stick over a roaring fire, really?   My one concession to complex campfire cookery: Rabbit Stew.  It sounds so rustic, just the sort of thing one should make when braving the wilds of  a National Forest Service campground (beetles and skeeters and pit toilets, oh my!).

I ate a lot of rabbit when I was in my twenties and just starting to get interested in cooking.  It’s delicious meat – flavorful but lean.  But something happened after I had children.  I think it was reading all of those children’s books to my daughters – ‘rabbits’ became ‘bunnies’…sweet lil’ bunnies with twitching noses and soft fluffy tails, hop-hop-hopping down the bunny trail.  What kind of mother would I be, devouring a bunny?  I assumed that my kids would object to cooking and eating a rabbit for dinner.  Well, I was wrong.  Turns out they think with their stomachs first, just like their mom and dad.  Heartless little gourmands. A few weeks ago they had their first tastes of rabbit and enthusiastically devoured much bunny.  Although, they preferred it if I called the meat ‘hare’, not ‘bunny’ while they got used to the idea.  So, now that I knew where they stood on the matter I was eager to cook rabbit again.  If you’re going camping this summer, or just like the idea of cooking up a batch of stew over your backyard fire pit, read on for some tips.  This technique could be used for any number of meat/vegetable combinations.  But bunny is best.

Sweet Victory Fig & Apricot Salad

This week I saw figs at the grocery store, and I barely hesitated before I reached  for a carton.  I’ve struggled with figs in the past, but I have a new confidence this year.  I went home and whipped up a Highly Experimental Salad that turned out to be Highly Successful.  Sweet Victory!  Here’s the recipe…

Waiter, There’s a Flower in My Salad.

I am a miserable farmer, it’s true.  But I am able to grow decent flowers and herbs, and Nasturtiums are both, so how could I go wrong? Nasturtiums are the A#1 recommendation for children’s  gardens – they’re that easy to grow. This year I planted seeds and got a lot (a lot) of foliage.  When the first leaves poked through the soil we were so excited! Days passed and the leaves grew wider and taller. “Oh my, this will be a bumper crop Nasturtium flowers,” we thought.  It has been, instead, a bumper crop of Nasturtium leaves. A few flowers, yes, but mostly leaves. Which left me dejected, until I learned that nasturtium leaves are absolutely delicious.

This Little Piggie Was Delicious

On Monday, Panacea’s holiday, our husbands roasted a whole pig in JM’s backyard. Nothing says “party” like cooking a whole beast.  I’ll save the photo for the end of my post, out of respect for our vegetarian friends who might not see the beauty (stop reading now if this applies to you).  To us, this pig was a wonder to behold and taste. The skin was crackly crunch that dissolved in your mouth.  The meat was as succulent as can be.  Fat can do amazing things.