Garden Cooking!

Genesis 1:29 ESV     
And God said, “Behold, I have given you every plant yielding seed that is on the face of all the earth, and every tree with seed in its fruit. You shall have them for food.

Smoked Gouda Tomato Pie



My tomatoes are finally coming in and I had enough at one time to make a tomato pie. Southern Living Magazine had a tomato pie recipe that used a half cup of mayonnaise on top of it. We tried it, and it was good, but I couldn't get past the mayo. So this year, I tweaked the recipe and came up with a delicious pie I hope you'll enjoy!

One pie crust (I use Pillsbury ready made)
5 or 6 ripe (but not mushy) tomatoes, medium sized
1/2 cup of Parmesan Cheese, divided
1/2 cup of grated smoked Gouda cheese
3 Tbsp basil, chopped
3/4 cup plain Greek yogurt

Step 1 - Place the pie crust in a pie plate (not deep dish) and bake at 350 for 10 minutes.

Step 2 - Slice the tomatoes and lay them out on paper towels. Sprinkle them with salt. Let them sit for 30 minutes to draw excess moisture out of them.

Step 3 - Sprinkle 1/4 cup Parmesan Cheese in the bottom of the pie crust.

Step 4 - Place tomato slices on top of the Parm cheese.

Step 5 - Sprinkle the smoked Gouda on top of the tomatoes.

Step 6 - Sprinkle the basil on top of the Gouda.

Step 7 - Spread the Greek yogurt on top of the basil and Gouda. It doesn't have to reach all the way to the sides of the pan.

Step 8 - Sprinkle Parmesan on top of the yogurt.

Bake at 350 for 25 to 30 minutes or until the Parmesan is lightly browned.

Cool on a rack for 15 minutes before slicing.

Let me know if you try it and be sure to let me know how you like it. If you tweak the recipe, share the tweak with me! I'm always looking for new ways to update recipes.

The Obedient Garden

An unsuspecting me in 2009

Luke 11:28 But he said, “Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it!”

It's important to understand that I've never been a gardener. I liked the idea of a garden, but I had no desire to get out there and get dirty, prune, cut back, weed, mulch, pick anything, or do hand-to-hand combat with pests. When we arrived in Louisiana a few years ago, my husband suggested we put in some raised beds for a vegetable garden, and I figured it was a good idea since we'd had little luck with the few containers of tomatoes we'd tried to grow in Florida. Maybe we'd have some tomato success in LA.  Here, I must say, it's important to understand my husband...he doesn't wade into anything - he jumps right into the deep end. So we built three boxes, got a truck full of soil, and hit Lowes at full tilt. Squash, several varieties of peppers, cucumbers, tomatoes, watermelons, okra, and more I can't even recall.

                                         In the beginning...2009

Then the real work began. We had to maintain all those vegetables by watering, weeding, mulching, pinching, cutting, and debugging. We had to pick things and then we had to clean them, cook them, eat them, freeze them, or can them. You can believe me when I say I was gritting my teeth by the end of the first season. My husband would walk in with a basketful of cucumbers, and I knew I was in for a day of canning pickles with vinegar stinging my nose and eyes. The worst part of all was when the okra started producing and wouldn't stop. Apparently okra loves long, hot summers. Did I mention that I hate okra? Unless it's well hidden in a really good gumbo, I seriously detest it. My husband loves it. So we ate it. Fried. And what we didn't eat, we froze so we could eat it later. Sigh.

                                          Mustard Pickles

Eventually, I got more into things. I planted purple hull peas and an herb garden. I begged for pole beans and Randy built me a trellis for them to climb. I found that I really enjoyed tending to the peas as they were very low maintenance. The pole beans took a little more effort and didn't produce much. What they did produce was tough, so the next summer I tried them once more and found that I'm a pretty poor pole bean planter. I gave up on them. The peas, however, flourished. I loved picking them. I especially loved shelling them. I'd grab a big old Tupperware bowl my mother gave me years ago and sit out on the back porch just shelling away. I felt like I was finding treasure with every pea that popped out into that bowl. Parboiling them and freezing them was no trouble at all. Cooking them to eat right away was even better. I started to better appreciate Randy's love of okra then. In fact, I started enjoying the okra, battered in fish fry and dipped in ketchup, of course!

Good looking, but poorly producing pole beans

Purple Hull peas           

This is the fourth season and I suddenly can't get enough of the garden. In fact, I can't get enough of gardening, in general. Suddenly I'm filled with visions for every nook and cranny in our yard. I can't wait to get my hands on the gnarly shrubs and pull up the nasty, prickly vines that have taken over beds long forgotten. I can't wait to work new dirt into the old, and de-root the beds so new plants can be put in. I'm searching the web for which plants grow best in zone 8a. Which ones like shade and which ones prefer full sun. Mandevillas, hostas, succulents...I don't just want to know. I need to know. If there's a gardening bug, I've been bitten - and bitten good!

                                          The beginnings of a poolside oasis

                                          My newest project - this used to be covered in dead
                                          azalea bushes.

I'm sure my husband is wondering what in the world has happened to me and when it's going to stop. I'll bet he's waiting for me to grow tired of this garden fever halfway through my next project. I won't though, because this isn't really about me. It's about obedience to God. Somehow, I know this is what God has put into my heart, and I feel compelled to do it. There's no way I could get out there and work this hard in 99 degree weather on a late June day without the strength of God. I've been pulling up old azalea roots, lopping off tree branches, hauling wheelbarrows full of roots, weeds, sticks, and leaves across the back yard and into the woods to dump over and over again for the past two days, and still I can't wait to get back out there and work some more tomorrow. That's not me. That's most certainly not me at all. That's God.

I looked at a note pad I put by my bed before I started this blog. It had ideas about what to write about. I knew I wanted it to be about my new love of everything garden. I also knew it had to be about my my renewal of faith. On the pad, I'd written obedience even in the small things. I thought that was going to mean keeping up with laundry and cleaning the sink out before bed each night. When I really started reflecting on it, though, I realized that it meant taking care of everything He has entrusted to me. My marriage, my husband, my children, my home - inside and out, my family, my friendships...you get the picture. Everything God has entrusted into my care. Somehow, the garden has become so very important because of what it means to my marriage - it's an activity my husband and I can share and enjoy together. It's important to our health - fresh vegetables with all of the vitamins and nutrients still in them. It's important to finish what I start. It's important to be self-sustaining. It's important to be faithful to my Father, and it's important to me to be faithful to my earthly father who loves his garden and descends from ancestors who loved theirs, as well.

The best part of all is the feeling of fulfillment I have at the end of a day gardening. I love seeing and enjoying what my hands have created. It reminds me of God's love for all He created and how much love He has for us. I love knowing I'm in His will. I love feeling so close to Him. I love being obedient, even in the small things, because that's when I feel His love in the biggest way.

Two Are Better Than One

Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 NIV

 Two are better than one,
because they have a good return for their labor:
If either of them falls down,
one can help the other up.

Truer words were never spoken! I especially felt this today as I dove into my weekend garden project. We have a salt water pool and there's a run off area filled with salty mud where nothing will grow. After a lazy afternoon perusing gardening magazines, I envisioned a graveled area with a planter in the middle filled with flowering vines that would grow up the fence and draping plants that would cascade over the planter. I shared my vision with my husband, Randy, and he gave me a few suggestions to consider, but it was my project to do.

Salty, muddy area to be fixed up.



After a couple of weeks of family obligations and a short beach vacation, we finally faced a free weekend. Randy had plans to run an irrigation hose around the pool deck to each of our blueberry bushes and the herb garden. He also needed to put a new pump into the fish pond and clean out some of the decaying muck that coated the bottom of it. As he explained the process of getting his tasks done, he saw my eyes slide over to my project area. He ambled over and verbally walked me through the steps that would need to be done to make my vision come to life. First, dig out the muck around the border to sink bricks low enough so he could get over them with the mower. Second, rake the area to remove the random grass that still clung to life in the salty mess. Third, place the large planter I'd dug out of the bushes next to the fence, and cut some chicken wire to cover the gigantic hole that the previous owners had put in it and dig holes to sink two flower pots in front of the large planter. Fourth, take any excess mud and debris out behind the back fence and dump it. Fifth, dig up stepping stones from behind the fence and place them where I wanted them. Sixth, scoop up gravel from behind the fence (are you wondering what else the area behind the fence harbors?) and spread it out around the stepping stones. Seventh, fill the pots with pine needles, mulch, and potting soil. Eighth, place the new plants where I wanted them, and fill the pots with soil. Ninth, water down the area and step on the gravel and stones to set them in place. Tenth, clean up and put the tools back where they belonged.

Are you laughing yet? I'd honestly thought I'd just head to Lowe's and pick out a nice planter, some plants, some dirt, and a bag of gravel. Then, I figured, I'd come home and put it all into place. The whole project, in my mind's eye, would only take a couple of hours tops. Oh, how naive I was.

I was eager to get started, so I went ahead and got the large planter into place on Saturday night. I grabbed my garden gloves and some tin snips that Randy got me and snipped away until I'd fit the wire over that huge hole. I was very pleased we wouldn't have the expense of buying a planter, so even though it was tough to cut the wire, I figured every snip was saving me big bucks. On Sunday, Randy and I set out for Lowe's at ten. Two bags of potting soil, five sprinkler heads, and six plants later, we were on our way back home again. By 11:30, we were ready to dive into our separate projects.

Randy headed off to work on his irrigation system and I walked over to find an array of tools he'd set out for me next to my project spot. Oh, yeah...tools. Good thinking, Randy! Happily, I dug right into the mud and removed brick sized chunks, sinking bricks along the way. My gusto lasted about four bricks. By the time I finished sinking all of the bricks, perhaps twenty four or so, my head was pounding, I was sweating buckets, and I couldn't catch my breath. I'm obviously not used to physical labor! Seeing that I was done with my first task, Randy walked over and gave his approval. I expected him to move on back to finish the pond, but instead he grabbed a rake and smoothed out the area while I took a break to catch my breath. After he finished and returned to the pond, I dug two holes to sink the little planters. When I finished, Randy was ready with the wheel barrow to dump the muddy mess I'd dug out and haul back some stepping stones. I gratefully trailed behind him with the shovel. It's a good thing he decided to help me out because digging up the stones, hauling them to the site, digging up shovelfuls of gravel, hauling them to the site and then going back for three more loads would have taken me hours and hours over the course of several days. It was way more hard work than I'd bargained for! We set the stones into place, then he dumped in the gravel while I pushed it around into place. Finally, he brought me some pine needles while I grabbed the bag of mulch, and we filled the big pot. He dumped in potting soil, I placed the plants. We repeated the process until all of the pots were full of plants. Then, he tested his irrigation system to be sure everything would get a good watering as needed.

Randy took a much needed dunk in the pool as I went inside to fix our lunch. Unbelievably, the entire process had only taken two hours. Thank you, dear God, for Randy. Thank you for his helping hands. Thank you for his support of my vision.

If I'd worked at it over the course of a week, I probably could have accomplished my goals on my own. How much nicer and effective to have two of us working toward the same goal. My heart is full today. Two really are better than one!

Our finished weekend garden project!

Beet Harvest

"The Lord will indeed give what is good, and our land will yield its harvest."
Psalm 85:12 (NIV)

Last Year's Beets

 

I have never liked beets. Never ever. My mom never made them and my only interaction with them was most likely at an elderly relative's house. I really can't recall when I ate one as a child, but I can tell you I honestly believed I hated them.

Then last year, Randy returned from hunting in West Virginia raving about some homegrown pickled beets he'd eaten. I wasn't convinced, but Randy being Randy, he planted some to see if we could grow them in Louisiana. Sure enough, they grew just fine. We didn't plant enough to do anything with, so I picked up more at the store and Randy canned them. I was prepared to hate them. Really. I though he'd be eating those beets all by himself and wondered why he'd bothered with them at all.

And then I ate one. It was sweet. It was sour. It tasted like cinnamon apples.  I fell in love. Head over heels in love with beets.

So we planted more. Lots more. Too many more. We had to thin them out and transplant some. There were still too many, so some of them didn't grow larger than a marble. Some of them, however, grew to a respectable size, and this year we didn't have to supplement from the store. We put up 9 pints today and still have some in the garden for another 4 or so later on. 

This Year's Beet Harvest

I realize that probably isn't a large quantity to farmers and die hard gardeners, but it's great for us. It shows we learned from last year. It shows we were persistent. It shows we were open to new ideas.

Mostly, it shows that God is faithful in His promises. Our land yielded it's harvest.

How could this work in my life? What if I opened myself up to new ideas and let God do His thing? What kind of harvest could I yield? As I work on the fruits of the Spirit, I'm going to be mindful of approaching old things in new ways...kindness rather than indifference. Understanding rather than anger. Patience instead of irritation. I'm going to expect an abundant harvest, too, because He is always faithful in His promises.

                          Pickled Beets                            

Boil 3 lbs of fresh beets (washed, with about 1 inch of root end still attached) for 25 to 30 minutes until fork tender.



 Let them cool. Slip skins off. (Use gloves to prevent stains on hands) Slice them or quarter them to fit into sterilized pint jars.

Make pickling brine:  In a large pan over medium-high heat, add 2 cups apple cider vinegar, 2 cups water, 2 cups granulated sugar, 1 tsp each of whole allspice and whole cloves, and 1 tbsp of ground cinnamon. 

Using a canning funnel, place 2 pieces of quartered sweet onions in the bottom of each jar. Then fill each jar with beets, pushing down slightly to eliminate air space. Fill each with brine, leaving 1/2 inch head space.Wipe jars with a damp paper towel and add caps and bands. Place gently into a hot water bath, covering jars with at least one inch of water. Bring to a boil and boil for 30 minutes. Carefully remove jars and place on kitchen towel to cool. Be sure each jar seals - the caps will be sucked into toward the jar and won't buckle when pressed. Store in a cool place and wait 6 weeks before opening.

Pickled Beets



22 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23 gentleness, and self-control. Against such things there is no law. - Galatians 5:22,23

Blueberries May 2012

According to the blueberry council (yes, there really is a council just for blueberries!) blueberries are one of the healthiest fruits around. Their benefits include high fiber, antioxidants, vitamin C, manganese, eighty calories per cup, and no fat. Personally, I love them because they taste delicious and make the most wonderful pancakes of all the fruits. They're great for smoothies, muffins, and atop cereal, too! One of the more decadent blueberry desserts I love was introduced to me by my mother-in-law, one of my dearest friends - Blueberry Cake Roll. It's really more of an upside down blueberry crisp. It calls for Dream Whip, so I've modified it to use Cool Whip instead. I don't think it's lost a bit of its charm by doing so.

 m

Blueberry Pancakes, May 2011

The beauty of growing blueberries is that the whole bush doesn't ripen at one time. Each day, we gather about a cupful from our bushes. I throw them into a freezer bag until we have enough to make something yummy or I use them right away in a smoothie. Sometimes, I simply graze upon the bushes with my dachshund, Gus Gus. He gets the bottom branches and I get the top ones. How easy it is to gather the fruit and enjoy it whenever and however I choose.

If only the fruit of the Spirit were as easy to gather and use. One of my favorite verses is Galatians 5:22,23:  But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. How I wish I could grow these things in myself as easily as the blueberries grow on our bushes. How I wish I could stop wrestling with the Holy Spirit to attain these sweetest fruits. I love my family and friends. I feel joy sometimes. I'm peaceful upon occasion. I can exercise patience when I must...more or less. I'm sure most of everyone can. But I know this verse means that the Spirit can help us feel these things, as we need them, in every circumstance. That's where I fall short. Do I really love my neighbors as God wants me to love them? Do I feel peace in my spirit as I watch my college graduate ready herself for a move over a thousand miles away? Or when my father, 83, is hospitalized, and I'm making the fourteen hour drive to get to him? Am I really trusting God to see me through the trials of this life, full of the fruit of the Spirit, or am I trying to cope with everything on my own with a withered and dried up spiritual garden? I know what dried up blueberry plants look like because it hit 107 degrees last year while we were on vacation and our sprinkler system, though set to water automatically, simply wasn't up to the task of handling that kind of heat. It was heartbreaking to see the withering fruit and the brittle branches. Is this how God feels when we refuse to bear the fruit He has offered us? Are we just as withering inside as the blueberries were? Are we just as brittle?

I'll contemplate this as we enjoy our bounty of blueberries this season. Each time I graze or gather, I'll think of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control, and I hope each time I'll choose the best fruit of all - the fruit of the Holy Spirit. It's a sweet gift, isn't it?



http://www.blueberrycouncil.org/health-benefits-of-blueberries/blueberry-nutrition/

http://madetocrave.org/

I recently turned back to God thanks to Lisa TerKeurst's book Made to Crave. Quite simply, she posed the idea that God made us to crave Him over food or anything else the world has to offer. While reading her book, I was reminded of God's truths and promises for us as His children. The thought of struggling another moment through life without God suddenly seemed like a futile attempt to run through quicksand. So I chose life over death and victory over defeat.

What does all of this have to do with my garden? It has to do with planting seeds of faith. It has to do with working with my hands and learning to wait patiently to reap the rewards of my efforts. It has to do with cultivating faith and obedience. It most definitely has to do with growing closer to Him and believing His promises for me as His child.

Join me on this journey through God's garden. Help me keep my feet firmly on His path. Reap the rewards of His wisdom as we learn while we grow.