Hot lips

After bragging about my awesome hot sauce, oh so tasty and easy to simmer up for my beloved, well, I did wash that pot.  Evidently I hadn't used it since.  Tonight as Isaac faithfully scooped the tender, hot applesauce into a jar, he glopped some on the counter.  I said flippantly, "I just wiped that counter, go ahead, lick it!".  He did.  Next thing I know he's in the bathroom washing off his tongue.  "Blech, something weird was on that counter, Mom."  I didn't believe him.
I finally found the lid for his jar, licked my applesauce finger clean (it is the preferred way to clean around here!) and aaack!!!!  We have a problem.  Spicy, Hot Applesauce.

Oh, how I hope that my pot is not forever-spicy.  Hope Kevin enjoys that applesauce I, uh, made him.  Hope he sees my label when he opens the frig in the early morning.

Do you like this picture of my frig?  This is my through-the-desert frig (not dessert, though it's useful for that too) - it is lasting forever, like the Israelites' sandals did through 40 years in the desert.  That green stuff is the jello for tomorrow's cell model.  The blocks-o-cheese are part of my lovely bulk purchases from my favorite Mennonite grocers!

Salsa-licious

That's a funny title, makes my kids laugh.  Salsa-licious!  And this is a funny post because I haven't tasted it yet!!  It's too spicy - would be dangerous.  But, this salsa wins because it isn't salsa-soup - it's beautiful, lovely - so it wins.

Ruby, my expert tomato-dipper.

My sweet, beloved friend Jess H gave me this recipe.  She makes it every year.  We laugh, because we both like adaptable recipes.  It is essential that substitutions can be made.  We have too many kids to go to the grocery store just because we want to make salsa!!  Substitute freely!!

Salsa

5 gallon bucket of tomatoes (who cares what kind!)  Peel, core and quarter after doing the hot-water-dip-trick.  Jess says you needn't quarter - just squeeze them with your hand as you plop them in the giant pot.  To reduce wetness of salsa, consider squeezing the tomatoes a bit for extra seeds and juice to go into your chicken bowl (oh, this is a compost bowl - my chickens love tomatoes).  Start the tomatoes cooking on low/med heat while you get busy chopping the rest:

6 banana peppers

4-6 green peppers

4-5 medium onions

garlic

cilantro

hot peppers to taste

Add above to tomatoes and stir well.

I used the "garden" method of picking every ready pepper in my garden, donning gloves and chopping them ALL up.  Hence the too-spicy for anyone but husband results.  Jess says hers is always "mild".  That's how I'll do the next batch so the rest of us can also munch.   

  

Before the tomatoes boil, carefully spoon out about 1 C of liquid into a bowl so that you can stir in

1 C cornstarch

1 C apple cider (or white) vinegar

1/2 C sugar

2 T salt

If your reserved liquid is too hot, you'll get lumps.  (I prefer to have less liquid in my salsa, not more, so you don't want to add water just so you can dissolve the cornstarch.)  Stir, stir, stir as you add the cornstarch mixture to your big pot and watch it thicken!!  Woo-hoo!!

Now for the illegal part.  Do not tell the FDA.  Quick, heat up another pot with water enough for a quart jar (or whatever kind you'll use) to lay down in and be submerged.  Get a cute, helpful girl (at least 7 1/2 years old, per Ruby) to help you with that fun magnet wand that retrieves the canning lids from the hot water.  Submerge your first jar and lid (being careful not to splash the cute girl perched on the stool nearby).  Fill your hot jar with your hot salsa, put on the hot lid, screw on the ring, place the jar upside down on your counter for a beautiful display of salsa.  Leave it alone until tomorrow, it will be all sealed and ready for winter-time munchings!!  This made 11 quarts for me - I used about 5 gallons of tomatoes and about 1 gallon bag of hot peppers and 3 green peppers.

Sticky neck

One of my favorite things about cooking with Anna is my sticky neck.

She helps me mix and knead and measure by kneeling on a tall stool.  Or she climbs up to sit on the counter - precarious with my piles being scooted off by her wiggly self.  We just finished mixing the granola up and she was licking the "splatula" clean and scooting a pile of books off the counter.  She screeched because I forgot to give her a bowl-full of raw granola (always her preferred way to eat it) - but I made it up to her with the whole bag of raisins instead.

Who, me?  I'm not sticky!

Reaching back to clutch at a knot in my neck, waiting for the timer to ring for the granola, I discover a smear of sticky brown sugar and honey on my neck.  Anna loves me so well.  It's so nice to feel the print of her sticky baby fingers on me.  They are losing their soft pudge and today she counted all the way up to 9 cups of oats (well, except for missing 6).