March Came in Like A Lamb, is Still a Lamb…

“Everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night.”  ~Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters of Rainer Maria Rilke

This normally precarious, wildly unsettled month is unbelievably mild.   Crocus, Daffodils, hyacinths,  early tulips…are in full flower with the promise of more blooms on the way.  A cloud of blossoms envelop the apricot tree, the pears up by the old red barn are snowy white, the peach is pink…apples will be in flower next.  Our spirits are so buoyed we planted two new heritage apple trees, one peach, and a sour cherry.  If the frost holds off, we’ll have loads of fruit this year to can, freeze, make into jam and fruit butters.  Most of last year’s crop froze.

I’m already hard at work clearing away the vegetable garden,  spreading compost, planting early vegetable seeds….   The flower beds need cleaning of all the overwintering weeds so I’m busying myself in them, pruning roses, and generally tidying everything.  I’ve ordered new herbs and perennials that attract butterflies and hummingbirds.  Some of the varieties I wanted are already sold out.  It’s only March 18th and I’m scrambling around like a demented bunny to keep up with the advancing season.  And the extended forecast shows more of the same unusually balmy weather.

All of a sudden it’s full-blown, bursting out all over, spring– like mid-late April, not March.  Will the weather hold, or will we be hit with a freeze?

I’m savoring all the beauty while wondering if it will suddenly be snatched away.  It’s mighty early to hope frost will pass us by, but last fall I found a solid brown woolly bear caterpillar with no black markings at all which means an unbelievably mild winter.  And thus it has been.  I’m putting my trust in the woolly bear as my prognosticator.   So much for Phil the Groundhog.

“Spring makes its own statement, so loud and clear that the gardener seems to be only one of the instruments, not the composer.”  ~Geoffrey B. Charlesworth

“Hoe while it is spring, and enjoy the best anticipations.  It is not much matter if things do not turn out well.”  ~Charles Dudley Warner

But I really hope they do.

*Image of our barn by me, and spring lane taken by my mother, Pat Churchman. The remainder of the images are royalty free.

Rhubarb Pudding

One of my spring rites is making rhubarb pudding from the plants that have grown along the garden wall since well before my time, and I’ve lived here for several decades.  I’ve added some of the new, deeper red rhubarb plants over the years, but only one has survived.  This improved cultivar seems to lack the vigor of the old.  So I cut a few stalks from it, then return to the faithful clumps for the bulk of my harvest.  Today was my first pilgrimage to the rhubarb patch and I returned to the kitchen with a goodly supply of stalks.  Now the pudding is chilling in the fridge in the big brown and white pottery bowl I’ve had for ages.

I love this stuff.  Not everyone does and rhubarb may be an acquired taste, but many of our little people like it, and young children haven’t had much of an opportunity to acquire a taste.

I don’t use an actual recipe because, as with many old Southern dishes, my mother-in-law taught me how to make this, and I’ve adapted it somewhat, but I’ll take a stab at a recipe for you.

Cut or purchase several good handfuls of rhubarb. The amount can vary. Chop the stems into two inch pieces and put them in a large saucepan (I use a 2-3 quart one) and barely cover with water.  Simmer, stirring frequently, until the stems are completely broken down.  Then whisk the cooked pieces until smooth.  Season with sugar to taste (I use about one to two cups depending on the amount).  Add two-three heaping tablespoons of instant tapioca (again, depending on how much liquid you’ve used) and simmer until the tiny pearls are clear. Add 2-3 tablespoons of strawberry gelatin and stir until dissolved.  Set mixture aside and chill in fridge until it sets. Add cut up strawberries if available after the pudding has cooled.

Old English Plum Pudding from The Virginia House-Wife Cookbook

Old English Plum Pudding~

Beat eight eggs very light, add to them a pound of flour sifted, and a pound of powdered sugar; when it looks quite light, put in a pound of suet finely shredded, a pint of milk, a nutmeg grated, and a gill of brandy; mix with a pound of dried currants, and a pound of raisins stoned and floured–tie in a thick cloth and boil it steadily for eight hours.

A variation of that theme is just called Plum Pudding:

Take a pound of best flour, sift it, and make it up before sunrise, with six eggs beaten light; a large spoonful of good yeast, and as much milk as will make it the consistency of bread (dough); let it rise well, knead into it a half pound of butter, put in a grated nutmeg, with one and a half pounds of raisins stoned and cut up; mix well together, wet the cloth, flour it, and tie it loosely, that the pudding may have room to rise.

*Raisins for pudding or cakes should be rubbed in a little flour to prevent their settling to the bottom–see that it does not stick to them in lumps. *Cloths for boiling puddings should be made of German sheeting; an article less thick will admit water and injure the pudding.

She doesn’t say anything more than this. I’m assuming this pudding is also to be boiled for the above mentioned eight hours. I never made either but thought they looked fascinating.

In doing more investigation on English plum pudding, I came across a wonderful account and old recipe with more details. He says to cover the pot in which you’re boiling the pudding and check to be sure it doesn’t boil dry: http://www.homemade-dessert-recipes.com/plum-pudding-recipe.html

PICKLED EGGS (AMISH)

Boil young beets until tender. Skin, cover with the following liquid and boil together 10 minutes:

1/4 C. brown sugar
1/2 stick cinnamon bark
1/2 C. vinegar
2 or 4 whole cloves
1/2 C. cold water

Let beets stand in this liquid for 2 days. Remove beets and add whole hard-boiled eggs (peeled) to the liquid and pickle for 2 days before using.
*The recipe suggests adding one dozen eggs to one quart beet pickles. More eggs can be added later. *Variation: Put hard-boiled eggs in a large container, pour 1 quart of pickled beets and juice on top, adding 1/4 cup more of brown sugar and 1/2 more of vinegar. Refrigerate 24 hours before using.

These beet/pickled eggs are served at family potlucks and other gatherings here in the Shenandoah Valley of VA. My mother in law always makes them. She uses old crocks for her various pickles. These eggs are served on a cut-glass egg dish.