Try Share -- Kauaians Do It Best

Across the corrugated tin "fence" that separates our yard from Priscilla and Henry's orchard, I receive a 2 x 2 foot box filled with mountain apples. 

The tree she stands beneath is massive; it must top out at 40 feet and is at least 10 across. The blossoms fall in hot pink strands that carpet the soil, in what I imagine, any 6 year-old girl would drool to have on her bedroom floor.

Such a vibrant tree putting out a pretty fruit that's disappointingly bland. This strange fruit is more pear than apple really; the flesh is soft and its shape too, reminds me of a pear. 

Priscilla routinely gives me quantities of whatever is fruiting in her yard. I can't possibly keep up with her generosity, so I try to come up with new ways to hand her a bit of her own harvest back over the fence. 

I've baked with mountain apples in the past, with mediocre results. But this time I'm armed with a new discovery, a book given to me by my husband earlier this month: Home Made Winter, by Yvette Van Boven. I could gush shamelessly about the charm, reliability and genius of this tome, but I'll leave it to you to visit for yourself. 

So far I've followed her guidance on making yogurt, butter, cakes, and now for the mountain apple, her chutney. I replace the apples with mountain apples and the tomatoes with canned tomatoes. I am also a fan of the organic dark brown sugar for its molasses content. The results were fantastic. Chutney is an Indian condiment, but for me it's divine on buttered bread or as my friend Meg advised, a fun addition to her coleslaw. Regardless, it's a wonderful remedy for an abundance of fruit.

In a second batch I made use of the choyote squash; farmers markets are overflowing with them right now. I used equal amounts of each. 

Mountain Apple Chutney

21/4 lb mountain apples or equal amounts choyote and the apple

2 cans of diced tomatoes with juice

2 onions

2 clove garlic

1/2 cup golden raisins

3/4 cup dark brown sugar

1 tablespoon black or yellow mustard seeds 

12 tablespoon hot style curry powder

a grind of nutmeg

2 teaspoon salt

21/2 cups cider vinegar

In a large pot place the diced fruit in 21/2 cups water. Simmer for 25 minutes. Don't allow to dry out. Add a bit more water if necessary. 

Add remaining ingredients. Stir until the sugar is dissolved, then bring to a boil. Lower heat and simmer 3 hours. Stir occasionally.

Spoon the hot chutney into sterilized jars. Makes around 41/2 cups and fills three large jars and one small. Wash double lidded jars in soapy water, rinse and put in a 285 degree oven for 10 minutes. Don't use metal lids, as they react with the acid of the tomato.

Seal and set them upside-down until cool. Yvette suggests waiting a month to eat. I gave away and my impatient friends said they ate immediately and loved it. So there ya go!

Joni-Mitchell-Would-Eat-This Granola – Naturally Sweet Yet Feisty

When I moved into the dorms at Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff, Arizona in 1983, my first roommate dubbed me a “granola” after her survey of the cassettes on my shelf. Jersey girl, Sharon MacKenzie nailed it. I was and still smack of all things hippy. Even my husband ribs me when we pass the rainbow children thumbing it to the North Shore.

“Hey babe, look, there’s your people.”

It’s annoying. And at the risk of cliché I’ll add: You can take the girl out of the tie-dye but you can’t get the tie-dye out of the girl. 

But this isn’t a blog on hippy cultural terms, this is a bona fide recipe for a maple syrup sweetened granola that sings with rustic clarity. Bear with me, I’m smitten.

As much as I love Anahola Granola, and include it in every care package sent to friends on the Mainland, I weary of its sweetness. Then I discovered granola guru, Megan Gordon; a chic in Seattle killing it with her savory granola blends. This recipe is an off-spring of her granola base and 101 instruction she shared with thekitchn.com, where she is a contributing writer. I recommend visiting her site as well. 

I have a hunch I’m not saving money making my own, considering we devour one full recipe in two weeks and I’m baking a new batch before the last jar has even emptied.  

It’s that good.

JMWET Granola

Yield: 6 cups

Set out all of your ingredients.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees

Step 1.

Combine:

3 cups oats

½ cup sesame seeds

½ cup pumpkin seeds

½ cup almonds

Step 2.

Combine:

¼ teaspoon cinnamon

½ teaspoon ground cardamom 

¾ teaspoon kosher salt

Stir into oat mixture.

Step 3.

In a separate bowl, combine: 

¼ cup olive oil

¼ cup coconut oil

½ cup maple syrup

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Add to spiced oats, mixing well.

Step 4.

Spread mixture on a parchment lined rimmed cookie sheet. Bake 38 minutes, turning every 15 minutes for even baking. Three minutes before the end of baking add:

1 cup of coconut flakes.

Step 5. 

Dried fruit and roasted nuts go in after baking is through. Once out of the oven add:

1 cup roasted pistachio, chopped

1 cup dry cherries, chopped roughly

Cool, then store in mason jars. It’s so pretty you’ll want to store in glass just so you can admire the toasty beauty.

Since we’re on a hippy tack, here’s a poem about hippy babies I wrote eight years ago while sitting in Kilauea Bakery. 

Day of the Dread

Hippy babies are taking over all the funky cafes. Hippy

babies in their patchouli soaked diapers with their natty 

dread dolls. Hippy babies with their Buddha bellies 

spilling over their hemp diapers; running between your legs 

as you walk across the hard wood floor with caramel rivers 

of coffee rolling from palm to elbow; scalding your 

fingers. Hippy babies bouncing off table legs in striped pants 

and polka-dot shirts with tassels snapping in their wake. One hippy 

baby shows up and a commune of organic scone-flinging babies is sure 

to follow. As the floor blooms with all-natural crumbs, the hippy 

babies divine spirits from soymilk stains on the tables. Hippy 

babies swing from the philodendra vines, laughing too loud and smiling 

at all the seated babies with napkins tucked in their shirts. Hippy 

babies drooling 100% organic cookie drool down Bob Marley 

T-shirts that cost a dime at the Hippy Baby Boutique. Hippy 

babies chanting with bodhi beads and bangles around emaciated

wrists, playing ukuleles and drowning out Greg Brown and Natalie 

Merchant in their ganga-stained hippy-baby voices. We ask them

politely, please sit, please clean up after yourself. The hippy 

babies won’t have any of it. Who are we to infringe upon their freedom?  

Baby food For Grown-ups – Thai Green Risotto

Cardamom pods and their dusky inhabitants.

Triple happiness: garlic, ginger and The Heat

Lemon grass: olfactory bliss.

Green onion, earth's own sparklers.

Soupy goodness.

Breakfast is served; baby food for grown-ups

8:20 a.m. I return from a dog walk hungry. 

You know a dish is comforting when you can lift the lid from the pan still sitting on the stove top from last night’s dinner, spoon it into your mouth, and sigh. 

This green curry began as a recipe from 101cookbooks.com where it was called a “porridge,” and rightly so, it has all the trappings of a fairy tail that ends with a nap. 

Nine days ago my 85 year-old mother moved in with us. I’m exhausted. Being her caregiver means assuming the physical body of another person: fetching, bending, lifting, wiping and the inevitable cheer leading, required to buoy the spirit. And my feet hurt. In a very unHawaii-like fashion, I’ve taken to wearing shoes indoors due to the dozen dead lifts performed each time I move her from point A to point B.

This green curry is pure comfort; as nurturing as a warm bowl of polenta fresh off the fire or a chocolate chip cookie still all melty and messy. It really was exactly what I needed Sunday night; and apparently this morning too.

Even my mom ate it. A person I consider the very opposite of a “foodie.” As long as I can remember, this little woman has been on diets. As long as I can remember, she’s lived on cottage cheese, butter Buds (a god-only-knows-what, butter substitute) and egg white biscuits. 

My husband and I love ethnic foods bursting with heat and flavor. Mom’s intolerance for big flavors naturally influences our usual daring menu. The coconut cream, cilantro and spinach base of the curry, combined with the sweet meat of a yam, worked to satisfy everyone. In fact, my mother has never liked rice. And yet, she wasn’t able to identify the brown rice so saturated with sauce it was reminiscent of a risotto, thus the new name.

Thai Green Risotto

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

1 tablespoons fresh lemongrass, minced

3 cloves garlic, minced

6 kefir lime leaves

1 teaspoon ground cardamom

1 ¾ cups uncooked brown rice

5 cups water

2 teaspoons kosher salt

1 14-ounce can full-fat coconut milk

1 tablespoon minced ginger, peeled

2 Hawaiian peppers, more for extra heat

1 cup cilantro

½ cup green onion tops

1 cup frozen spinach, thawed

2 yams, boiled whole and peeled
Cilantro for garnishing

Warm olive oil in a deep pan, add kefir lime leaves, coriander and rice. Stir constantly until rice is toasty and fragrant, 7 minutes. Add the water. Stir in a teaspoon of salt and allow to simmer gently, stirring occasionally, for 25 to 35 minutes or until many of the grains have burst.

Bring a pot of water to a boil. Simmer whole yams for 12 minutes until al dente, peel and cut into bite-size chunks.

While the rice simmers, combine coconut milk, lemongrass, ginger, chile, cilantro, garlic, green onion tops, spinach and a teaspoon of salt in a blender. Blend into a smooth sauce. I chose to reserve ¼ cup of this yummy sauce to have on hand for another dish later in the week. 

Add the green sauce and yam to the rice soup and simmer for 15 to 20 minutes. I add one cup of stock at this point because I like it soupy, but that is preferential. Up to you.

Serve in bowls garnished with cilantro and green onion or just stand by the stove and eat directly from the pan in the morning. 

Is That a Banana? What's a Girl to Do With a Huge Rack

A Banana Blossom

The Extraction

My Mule

Dehydrated Bananas

Brushed with Chocolate

And Sprinkled with Macadamia and Coconut