The Recipe Testers Guild

I think it's fair to say we have an actual solid structure, a concrete building to warmly house the ideas and plans of this endeavor. The walls of said structure are being fashioned out of:
1. A Table of Contents
2. A Timeline - The goal is to be finished in 18 months!
3. A Chosen Chapter to start from - You guessed it... Pies and Tarts!
4. A Working List of The Shoofly Project Recipe Testers Guild!

(There's one more piece of that structure that I'm so excited to talk about that it's all my long, cold fingertips can do to not type the very words my heart is calling out to type. Alas the time is not quite right. My heart will have to hold. But don't worry... you'll be the first to know.)

And anyway today we're talking about The Guild. (The word "guild" is inspired by Keturah who appears to have gone to her very own Guild with some frequency as she mentions it in her diaries quite a bit. I'm currently reading 1972.) This particular guild we're talking about is for folks wanting to help test recipes. Recipes that will eventually go in The Shoofly Project final cookbook. It's like a communal way of ensuring that the food tastes good, the recipes make sense, and everything is accurate.

You don't have to be a good cook to be part of the guild, in fact it's great to have folks who consider themselves "bad" cooks. (Though I bet you're just being modest.) And it's great to have folks who consider themselves wizards in the kitchen. (Though if you're actually calling yourself a wizard, I'd call that weird.)

Young, Old, Any Country, Every Background, Whatever Palate.
Vegetarian, Vegan, Gluten-free, Meatheads, Sugar Seekers...
Welcome!

Here's how it'll work...
1. If you haven't yet, let me know you're interested in joining.
2. We'll then send you a recipe. (at some point)**
3. Which you can then make. And eat!
4. Which you then report back on... How did it go? Did the recipe make sense? Did it taste divine or like concrete with a dash of nutmeg? 
5. We then use your dynamic feedback to adjust, revise, develop, and ultimately write a cookbook.

In exchange you get...
1. To eat!
2. To be part of something called The Guild. And that's pretty much awesome. Fact.
3. To be part of writing a cookbook!
4. To have your name listed on the blog and book! Again... pretty much awesome.

If you've already joined on - Welcome! I'm super excited to add you to the fabric and fashioning of this building. If you haven't yet - We'd love to have you!

**I've not exactly figured out the details of the work flow yet but I'm on it. Details for Guild Member coming soon. 

Now on to some pies...

The Inspiration Board (aka My Palpable Pinterest)

Airport magazine stores are like brightly-lit rabbit holes. While in my normal daily life I can usually steer away from the gossip columns and red carpet reviews, in these said holes I seem unable to resist the temptation of the gloss. Maybe it's the anonymity of air travel - no one I know witnesses my severe and stable focus on the hair stylings of Rooney Mara. Except for Eric and he's accepted this. Oh and I suppose I'm now writing it on the internet sooo...  Right.

Anyhow, on one recent indulgence I bought Vanity Fair - Rooney Mara was front and center. Within the glossy gem, one of the features included this behind-the-scenes photo of the fashion photographer's Inspiration Board. A cluttered wall full of photos he was looking to be inspired by. And I say to myself, " Self.... That's what you've been craving! An Inspiration Board!"

It's a palpable Pinterest. But instead of being an endlessly overwhelming time-waster, it's like a collage of calm. It somehow shall bring order to the chaos of this food-scattered brain. I'm just sure of it.

In the short-term, it's the things I have at my fingertips that actually need to be in front of my eyeballs.
In the long-term, it's the loveable art, the likeable font, the photo that inspires, the person who motivates. Maybe a list of the women I want to interview... next week.

So I thought I'd give a sneak peek at the beginning of my board. I'd love to know what's on yours!

An audacious, optimism-inspiring print made by the talented folks at Enormous Champion, a gift from my artist sister, Sarah... I love them for their desire to comfort the masses in gold cursive. Consider me comforted Champions...

My dear friend Leah Stuckey, an artist and pastry chef based in Chicago (you'll meet her soon!), recently had hearts on the brain. Her series of drawings were immediately posted on the growing board...

A excerpt from an article in Gastronomica by Allen Weiss on Authenticity...

From the Food Photo Pioneers: Saveur on Mugua Ji

From Edible Vineyard: Nancy Luce and her beloved chicken

From Ohori's cafe: A greeting card so vibrant that to hide it within the folds of some undeserving envelope seemed wholly shameful. I wish I could say the same of their Italian Roast. Doh!

What do you pin?!

I. Need. Borscht.

As we know, there is an ebb and flow in all things. Like the moon. Or my interest in knitting. 

Cooking is certainly no exception to this rule - One miraculous day in the kitchen that left you feeling heady and dangerously creative turns into that legendary evening when someone actually lost a filling during the desert course of the dinner party because your caramel was too hard. Except they didn't tell you till a year later so as to delay your guilt.  

Yes, that actually happened… To a friend of mine I mean. Ahem.

A blog is no exception either - having its own set of ebbs and flows - periods of heightened imagination followed by awkward phases of transition and confused identity. I hate to say it, but we’ve been in a phase of the latter. 

You were thinking it too… Don’t lie.

Because you see a blog is certainly its own creative beast - it is has an identity, a character, an essence. With all these - ebbs and flows. Being the creator of the beast any phase of mine is, strangely enough, a phase of hers. An odd vulnerability. 

(Yes, I’ve found the blog is decidedly feminine).

Today my beast and I feel a need to re-identify ourselves. 

Re-cap, re-view

Re-orient to what its is we’re all following. So in an effort to do just that - here's my summary of the identity, the aim, the essence of this here beast of a blog. 

- This is a blog following the writing of a cookbook. A Mennonite cookbook to be exact. We started it with this.  Let’s not lose sight.

- That’s to say… this is a finite blog. Not one of those sorted soap operas, endlessly dragging out the drama of fava beans and pork belly.  When the book is done, the blog shall be done. Period. (Here's to hoping this won’t end in some Shakespearean tragedy where all inspiration lays bloodied by its own author, missing all its fillings.)

- Of course, there’s recipes along the way – the ones being tested for the book and then just the ones I really like, cause you get to do that when you're a blog/beast creator.

- Like any (potentially good) story this one has its characters: the women I glean wisdom from, a teacher, artists, the state of Kansas, friends, family, you dear readers, and there’s me. 

(Psstt… Stay tuned! A new and exciting character shall emerge quite soon!)

- The book’s aim is to be one of collaboration – with Mennonite artists – the visual kind, the savory and sweet kind, the pen and paper kind. 

- YOU, dear readers, are the intended audience and hopefully collaborators – so do speak up!… What do you want to know, learn, taste, smell? What do you want in your cookbook?

Now that we know where we all stand, I think it’s time to move forward out of this godforsaken ebb. 

However, let’s not deny the basic facts:

Today is an ebb.

Today is cold. And melancholy.

I am now 30.

And I. Need. Borscht.

Cabbage Borscht (w/o beets)

Adapted from my grandmother Joan Dreier from her days at Heritage Inn in Hesston, Kansas. 

I added the bone, bouquet garni, leek, and carrot. 

Yield: 4-6 servings

Ingredients: 

1 pound stew meat*

1 beef bone (optional)

1 bouquet garni**

1 carrot, cut in large chunks

1 small onion, diced

1 leek, white and pale green part only

4 small potatoes

1 small head of cabbage (preferably Savoy cabbage)

1/2 teaspoon dill

* Most butchers will have "stew meat" - beef cut in 1-2" cubes

** A bouquet garni is made with 4-5 sprigs of fresh parsley, 4 sprigs of thyme, and 1 bay leaf wrapped a stalk of celery.

1. In large pot cover stew meat with 1-2" of water. Add bone if you are using it. Add the bouquet garni and carrot, and bring to a boil. As soon as it is begins to boil, turn heat down to simmer, skimming the foam that rises to the surface. Simmer till the meat is nearly tender. This may take up to 2 hours - The longer it cooks, the more tender it will be. Once meat is done, remove and discard the bone. 

Note: I wanted a fairly clear broth so I poured the soup through a cheesecloth before adding veggies, which removed the impurities that came from the bone. 

2. Meanwhile, prepare the leek by cutting it in half lengthwise, rinsing, and slicing thinly. Heat a bit of olive oil in a medium saucepan and add the diced onion and leek. Turn heat to low, salt the veggies, and cover. Let cook till completely tender, then add them  to the soup. 

3. When meat is cooked to your desired tenderness, add the dill and diced potatoes. Simmer till potatoes are cooked through. 

4. Prepare the cabbage by quartering it, and cutting it into bite-sized pieces. Add the cabbage to the soup, and simmer till the cabbage is tender but still slightly crisp. 

Note: That sulfur smell from cabbage comes from cooking it on high heat. So simmer, simmer, simmer. 

5. And you're done!  Serve with a slice of hearty bread and for the love... chill out about the 30 thing. Also, leftovers are lovely. Enjoy!