Scream for Snow Cream!

A couple of days ago, my friend, Sue Ellen Brookshire, stated she was going to make snow cream, store it in her freezer and, when next summer turns unbearably hot, she plans to pull out the frozen winter treat and savor it.  Her words stirred a childhood memory and I remembered the stacks of bowls in my grandmother's upright freezer.  Countless times, after we worked in her summer garden, we would rest on her porch and she would serve snow cream.  As the sweet confection melted on my tongue, I would marvel at how Granny preserved snow in such a delicious way. 

Snow cream with sweet black cherries

When I was a child, snow cream was a favorite seasonal treat.  My parents cautioned my brother and me, Space Age kids who drank astronaut-inspired Tang, watched The Jetsons on our black-and-white tv and built a lunar module kit, not to eat the first snow of the season.  I am not sure why, but there seemed to be some vague warning about radioactivity or something that needed to be cleansed from the atmosphere with the first snow.  Impatiently, we waited for a second snow so my mother would make snow cream for us.  A simple dish that requires no sharp objects or cooking, we quickly mastered the technique, learned to gather scoops of pristine white snow and make our own snow cream.
 

Snow day view from my porch

This morning, about six inches of fluffy snow piled around our home, the perfect fresh ingredient for snow cream.  Aside from the basic recipe, I made buttered pecan, black cherry with sweet cherries we harvested last spring and preserved in the freezer, orange and chocolate versions.  For the chocolate one, I substituted powdered sugar for granulated and the resulting consistency was almost like pudding.  An unusual breakfast, but Richard did not complain as he tasted each dish and declared chocolate and black cherry to be his favorites. Perhaps those should be combined?  Hmmm. . . when it comes to snow cream, the recipe possibilities are endless.

If you happen to have snow at your home today and perhaps some children who would enjoy making a special treat, scoop some snow into a large bowl and stir up a dish of snow cream.  Screams are optional. 

Buttered Pecan Snow Cream

Clockwise, from top left: Mandarin orange, black cherry, buttered pecan, vanilla, chocolate (center)

Basic Snow Cream Recipe
4-6 cups fresh snow
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/3 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup milk or whipping cream

Combine all ingredients in a large bowl and stir until smooth.  Adjust sugar and cream to achieve desired sweetness and consistency.  
Variations:
For Buttered Pecan:  melt 1 tablespoon butter in a skillet, add 1/2 cup small pecan halves and 1 tablespoon brown sugar.  Stir nuts with butter and sugar over medium heat until toasted and sugar is melted.  Allow to cool before adding to basic snow cream recipe. 
Black Cherry: Add 1/2 cup frozen sweet cherries, chopped, to basic recipe.
Mandarin Orange:  To basic recipe, add 1/2 teaspoon orange extract and decrease vanilla extract to 1/2 teaspoon.  Peel one or two fresh Mandarin oranges or Clementines (seedless) and chop fruit.  Stir into other ingredients.
Chocolate:  Substitute 1/4 cup powdered sugar for granulated.  Add 1/4 cup Dutch process cocoa powder and stir to combine.  Chocolate chips (about 1/4 cup) may also be added and for a Rocky Road variation, add 1/4 cup chopped nuts and 1/4 cup mini marshmallows.  

Forage Winter Fields For Wild Greens

There is something particularly beautiful about winter fields.  Devoid of summer's lush growth and holding the last of autumn's dried weeds, these fields are sometimes adorned with temporarily abandoned farm implements or hay bales the farmer did not store before inclement weather struck. Covered with ice or snow, it is easy for a passing traveler to see the defined area that will consume a gardener's time during the growing season.  On cold days, frozen weeds and grass crunch underfoot and a stroll through a winter field stirs a longing for spring that only grows stronger with each footfall.  But wait, what is this?  There, a small patch of dark green, leaves that are springtime crisp and full of life.  What is this plant that thrives when others around it lie brown and lifeless?  This is Creasy Greens. 

Creasy greens contain impressive amounts of Vitamins C & A

Today, winter fields at Heart & Sole Gardens are covered with inches of fluffy snow, but when the white stuff melts, patches of creasy greens will be visible.  I do not plant creasy greens, but these valuable plants reseed themselves and unlike other weed pests, I welcome these perennial visitors.  

Technically a type of cress, creasy greens grow wild throughout the Appalachian Mountains and historians credit the hardy green with saving many pioneers from scurvy, a nasty condition caused by Vitamin C deficiency.  When harsh winters prevented early settlers from obtaining or growing fresh foods, creasy greens were a natural source of Vitamin C.  As the weather warms, creasy greens become more peppery in flavor, but with recent cold temperatures, the taste is more like spinach than mustard. 

Before spring arrives, plan to seek out a winter field for a stroll.  With permission from the landowner, gather a "mess" of creasy greens and enjoy a delicious dose of natural Vitamin C.  Add a handful of creasy greens to a pasta or stir fry or just dress them with a nice vinaigrette and eat them as a fresh salad. You might not have to worry about scurvy, but wild foods like creasy greens provide just the spring tonic our bodies need.  

Creasy Green Omelet 
Briefly cook 1/2 cup shredded creasy greens in a small skillet with 1 teaspoon melted butter or oil.  When greens wilt, remove from heat and season with a pinch of salt and a couple of grinds of pepper.

Melt one tablespoon butter in a 8-10 inch skillet over medium heat.
Quickly whisk two eggs in a small bowl, working to incorporate as much air as possible and pour into hot skillet.
Use a spatula to loosen the side of the egg as it cooks and flip when it is solid enough to turn or, if you are brave and skilled, flip the egg while tossing the skillet (Over a sink is best for a first attempt at this!)
Turn heat off and top the center of the egg with grated Fontina cheese, creasy greens and any other toppings you like.  
Fold the omelet in half and allow the cheese to melt.
Slide the omelet onto a serving plate and enjoy.
 

When Food Service Goes Awry

We've all been there.  A friend recommends a restaurant.  It's his favorite; he promises the food is great and the service is exceptional.  We arrive and anticipate a delightful experience, but somehow, somewhere, something goes awry.  The service is sloppy, the ambiance is off or the food is not as delicious as we anticipated.  Upset, we complain.  Do we expect an adjustment to our bill?  A free dish or beverage?  A heartfelt apology?  Whatever our expectations, our actions and the reactions of restaurant staff will forever color our perceptions of that restaurant and will determine whether or not we will be repeat customers. 

Recently, Richard and I enjoyed a much needed and long overdue vacation.  Frigid temperatures and snow in our local forecast meant we could not work in the garden, so we looked forward to a warmer climate where we could enjoy those fresh-from-the-farm fruits and vegetables we missed.  Although southern Floridians told us the weather was chilly for them, we strolled along, wearing only light jackets, and anticipated a delicious meal at a restaurant that was about a mile from our hotel.

The fresh shellfish menu includes several varieties of oysters

After the hostess seated us at an outdoor table, we looked over the menu and made our selections.  Lively conversation surrounded us and we enjoyed watching the strategically placed over-the-bar mirror where we could view employees as they shucked fresh oysters and cracked in-season stone crab claws.  After a pleasant greeting from the hostess and a friendly exchange with our server when we ordered, nothing seemed to go as we anticipated or expected.  

Oyster shuckers in (partial) action

Three different servers carried our oysters and crab plates to other tables before one finally delivered them to us with no apology for the health code violation.  Our original server dropped by to inform us the restaurant was out of one of the oyster varieties we ordered, so she substituted another that was not on the menu, without first checking with us.  Although the oysters were served on the half shell, the shuckers neglected to detach them from the shells, making them difficult to eat.  The Nicoise salad did not include traditional ingredients of olives or eggs, the bread was soggy and, worst of all, our original server ignored us as she polished glassware.  By the time a server dropped a beverage at our table that was not what we ordered, we were disappointed and ready to leave.  

Thankfully, the manager stopped by to chat and she assured us she would address our concerns with her employees.  When I told her we did enjoy some components of the meal, including a rich tomato soup and fresh arugula in the salad, she replied, "I hate to hear you say lettuce was the best part of your meal!"  I explained to her, as a grower and restaurant supplier, I appreciate good quality produce and the arugula was particularly tasty.  

After our conversation with the manager, Richard and I left the restaurant in better spirits.  During our walk back to the hotel, we discussed how easy it is for restaurant diners to ignore poor service or food that does not meet expectations, while calmly addressing concerns with someone in charge can completely diffuse an upsetting situation.  On the other hand, when guests receive exceptional service and food that knocks the socks off, we should be eager to praise the restaurant staff for delivering a pleasant dining experience.

Now that we are back in NC and the warm Florida sunshine is a distant memory, I keep thinking about that arugula base in the not-quite-Nicoise salad.  Since my own greens are covered in snow and ice, I look forward to harvesting them when they rebound from winter's hold.  Chances are, when I do get the opportunity to pick arugula, it will be the best part of a meal.