DIY almanac: crockpot apple sauce and spiced apple skins

 

We have so many apples at out house! Two ancient apple trees in the side yard and nearly a dozen craggly wild trees reaching out of the abandoned schoolyard across the street. I've started our family's little 'festivle of apples' with crockpot applesauce, candied apple skins and dried cinnamon apple slices for Christmas potpourri. Our house is so toasty warm and smells of sweet spicy apples right now. Just right for a hazy, foggy September day.

 

For my simple crockpot applesauce, I just peel and thickly chop enough apples to fill the bowl. Then I splash in about a half cup of water, a generous pour of honey and ample sprinklings of cinnamon and nutmeg. We like our applesauce to be granny spicy goodness. Then, I just let the crockpot cook on high for about 4-6 hours, taking the time to stir and mash the apples every once and a while until my desired saucey texture is acheived. Like liquid apple pie.

I've started rolling my apple peels in cinnamon and brown sugar to be baked up into crispy apple candies in lieu of tossing them out (although the worm bitten skins are given to my ducks). I set the oven to about 250 degrees Fahrenheit and spread the skins on a parchment lined baking sheet. In about an hour and a half to two hours, the skins will be caramel brown and crispy and they'll disapeer within 10 minutes at our house.

our homestead: catching up at summer's end

The first official day of Autumn isn't for another two weeks and we've been experiencing our own version of the drought here in the Pacific Northwest. We haven't had rain in more than 50 days save for the quick nighttime downpour we had two evenings ago. Day after day, bright sun and clear blue skies. Regardless, I sense Autumn approaching. I see it in the leaves rolling across the roadway or blushing red in the trees, I feel it early in the crisp mornings when I curl up closer to my dogs and pull more blankets on, and I've started tasteing it via butternut squash and chanterelle mushrooms. Yes, it's summer's end. In recap, I feel rather satisfied by my summer. I spent time with loved ones including taking a girl's trip to Lake Chelan, swam, went camping at Coal Lake a few times, hiked a lot, grew fruits and vegetables and raised my first few clutches of ducks (and my chickens just started laying eggs), and worked farmers markets. I've been preparing for winter this past month- drying herbs and flowers for tea, freezing and canning our over abundance of tomatoes, cooking up apple pie filling with my sister-in-law. I never get enough done. I'll turn to this blog in winter to remember parts of the growing season. I never am able to post photos of everything, but at least I have a few glimpses. More writing about some life updates after the jump of photos...

 

1. Our little homestead

2. Magic, simply magic. Watching a duckling hatch.

3. These ducks were born this season.

4. Teddybear sunflower.

5. Italian white sunflowers.

6. Coal Lake.

7. My husband, Joe (left) and his goodfriend Nate (right) mountain trout fishing.

8. Banjo and Oswald exploring the mountain rock.

9. Working the Anacortes Farmers Market with Shannon.

10. Gathering herbs and flowers for winter teas.

11. My partners in crime this summer.

On to the updates. My husband and I might be moving from the Swan Slough. Not anytime soon, but possibly within a year. We made an offer on an affordably priced 2 acre plot of raw woodland near a small bass-fishing lake about 20 minutes north. Our offer was accepted, and we've been spending the past week and a half conducting a feasibility study to make sure we could live on the land before committing to the purchase. This is a huge step for our family as we've always talked about finding land and building a very small, energy-efficient home of our own. We thought we should look now since properties are priced so cheap. We don't own the land we're on at the Swan Slough, so we'll be moving towards ownership- which is both exciting and scary. If everything checks out with this property, I dream of building a little house with a woodland garden with walking paths and maybe a treehouse too. We want to have a clearing for a vegetable garden and greenhouse and a fenced-in duck oasis. I am definitely romanticising the possibility of being able to kayak whenever I please, as the lake is just a walking block or so from the property. We are still close to friends and family and in a good school district (perks!). Making a little home here will be a lot of work, but my husband and I look forward to the challenge. I am still considering whether or not I should start a new blog, or just rename this one. A lot of my past is in this blog, and I do plan to continue my baby-homesteading spirit to our new property. The topics might change. The name of the blog might change. But perhaps I should keep on writing here...*fingers crossed* that everything works out.

1. Our new road. The property touches this road from the subaru to where I'm standing.  

2. The property is heavily wooded with lots of ferns, mushrooms and old growth stumps.

3. I love this cedar grove. I imagine I'll make a woodland garden of bleeding hearts and hostas here.

4. The lake down the street.

 



DIY almanac: saving tomato seeds for later planting

My husband and I have been harvesting tomatoes left and right and have been enjoying tomato inspired meals everyday- tortilla soup with big chunks of tomato, open-faced grilled cheese sandwiches with green tomato slices, little slider burgers stuffed with shredded purple carrot and onions with giant slabs of brandywine tomatoes and beet greens, classic basil and mozzerella caprese salads, scrambled tomatoes and farm fresh eggs...I might have to make tomatoes stuffed and baked with bacon, chopped onions and bread crumbs tonight. Oh baby!

Anyway, if they don't just get tossed into the cook pot, I've been trying to save as many of my tomato seeds as possible from the really nice tomatoes I harvest (any big, colorful "perfect-looking" tomatoes or tomatoes with cool features). That way, next February, I can start tomatoes from my own homegrown seeds. Saving these seeds should produce hardier plants next year and the year after since the parent plants had to acclimate to Western Washington weather conditions. My original seed packets came from California, so I'll be creating my own Washington genetic version, which should increase my yield for years to come.

This is really a big part of heirloom creation. For example, I've been saving seeds from my really, really big pink brandywine tomatoes. Next year, when I grow these plants, most of their offspring should exhibit this size, and I'll select, again for the biggest brandywines for seed storage, perpetuating this giant trait. I haven't researched tomato cross-pollination too much this year, though my tomato plants did get a little mixed up in the greenhouse, so I do have a few tomatoes that look as though they are mixed between pink brandywine and evegreen. I'll probably save some of their seeds, though since they are more of a hybrid, I'm not sure what I'll get next year with them, but that adds to the fun and the mystery. One of my goals is to create a few of my own heirlooms to pass on to the next generations of my family.

There are a few different routes one can go down in regards to the tomato seed saving process. The biggest concern for tomato seed saving is removing the enzyme that coats the outside of the seeds (the goo around the seeds). This enzyme actually prevents the seeds from germinating within the fruit, and traditionally the enzyme is removed via fermentation. The seedy goop of a tomato is scooped out and dropped in a glass and then filled with water. Usually plastic wrap is placed over the glass and the glass sits in a warm place for a few days, until the goop rotts off of the seeds. Then, when mold starts to appear, the seeds are rinsed through a fine mesh sieve and then laid out to dry.

I usually follow some of these steps, though I'm a little too impatient to wait a few days and allow something to rott on my window. My method involves most of the same steps. I'll take the goop out of my tomato and then rinse the seeds as much as I can using a fine mesh sieve, then I'll let the seeds sit in a glass of water for 24 hours. The seeds that sink are the most viable seeds, whereas the floaters are immature seeds, so I'll skim off the floaters after my 24 hour period. Then, I'll pour the seeds into my sieve once more and rinse and scrub them with a little baking soda or natural dish soap and a small brush. Usually I can buff away the remaining enzyme. I'll then set my seeds out on a piece of brown paper and let them air dry. When they're ready, they'll go into small, labeled glass jars and will be hidden away in a cool, dark cabinet for starting next winter.