Today’s post is a bit of a departure. It is not focused on food or drink. There’s no stunning roast or plate of pasta. No cooling beverage. No beguiling dessert.

And yet, there is a recipe.

An easy one, too, using four items found in most pantries:

Apple Cider Vinegar,
Honey,
Ginger,
and Cayenne…

plus some water.

And, so quick to put together, so beneficial,
I had to share it with you. Pronto!

Combined, I learned from Maggie, that quartet of pantry ingredients creates a potent remedy to some of the ails of winter: Sore throat, hacking cough, tight congestion.

Combined, they turn into a curious orange syrup that can cut through the croup.

And, the taste is really good!

Like you, we’ve been trying to duck the dreaded cold germs: wash our hands, eat well, get enough sleep, stay warm. Sometimes even the most valiant efforts get foiled.

I first mixed up a batch for Bill over the holidays, when he caught a cold accompanied by a strangling cough. The Remedy went right to work, acting as both a calming agent and expectorant.

So, last month, when I felt run down, tight with a tickle in the throat, I shook up a little Remedy. A spoonful or two seemed to break its hold, suppress the devilish tickle.

Just last night, Bill came home after a long workday. His voice was spent, and he had that dull, woozy feeling you get when the onset of a cold is trying to make its way into your head. He snatched up the little bottle, gave it a vigorous shake, and poured a tablespoonful. “Ahhhh. This is the Good Stuff,” he said.

I’m not saying it’s a cure-all, or some homeopathic miracle drug. But it did a mighty fine job taking the place of store-bought cough suppressants, expectorants, decongestants…

Wouldn’t you rather have a dose of spicy honey-cider syrup from a little jar mixed up in the kitchen than any of those bottles lurking in the medicine cabinet?

I thought so.

Stay warm. Stay healthy.
Take good care. And, if need be, take your remedy.

MAGGIE’S COUGH REMEDY
¼ t. Cayenne
¼ t. Ginger
1 T. Cider Vinegar (an organic one, like Bragg’s, is preferred.)
2 T. Water
1 T. Honey (use a locally produced raw honey, if possible.)

Dissolve cayenne and ginger in cider vinegar and water. Add honey and shake well. Take 1 T. as needed for cough. Hoo-wee.

Blooming Daffodil, photographed Sunday, February 5, 2012. Beautiful, and the earliest I have ever had this flower bloom in my yard.

gifts of odd fruit, from Martine, left on our table in Uvita, Costa Rica

Dear Friends,

As a food blogger, I’ve not been one to participate in different games or give-aways. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Those are fun methods to further connections via the ‘net.

However.

Not once but twice of late I have been invited by fellow writers (thank you Tracy and Anna) to play the game of 7: a list and link to 7 of what I consider to be noteworthy posts.

After a little consideration, I decided to jump in and play. Good Food Matters has been around for about 2 1/2 years, and that’s added up to a heap of recipes, stories, pictures, commentary. Sometimes it is worthwhile to cast a glance back over a body of work, see where you’ve been.

And then it’s time to move forward. I’m getting some beautiful melons tomorrow from Fresh Harvest Co-op, sure inspiration for a late summer recipe and story.

In the meantime, enjoy. Maybe one of the links will take you somewhere you haven’t visited before. Or take you back for another welcome look. Or maybe there’s a different post I should have put on the list? I invite your input.

And thank you, as always, for reading.

1. Most Popular Post
Ray’s Green Beans with bacon, corn, buttermilk, and dill
What I did with my “annual allotment” from neighbor Ray this past June resonated far and wide.

2.Most Beautiful Post
Mango-Tango, mango-filled white butter cake
I’m not sure that it’s my most beautiful post, but it is my most beautiful cake.

3.Most Helpful Post
Yes We Can Can
My step-by-step tutorial on canning tomatoes is one that even I keep revisiting!

4.Most Controversial Post
Red Snapper
My tale about a 1971 high school trip to Florida garnered one cautionary comment about over-fishing. The post was not intended for any controversy. I just really like this story.

5.The Post that surprised me by the amount of attention it received
Green Tomato Madness
Maggie and I played one afternoon last fall with a bucket of green tomatoes, with whacky, mixed results.

6. The Post that I felt deserved more attention
Figs, Unforeseen
Hard call. But this was indeed a pretty post about a favored fruit, not much seen–

7. The post of which I am most proud
Swirling Brownies Forever
Maybe because these brownies were key to the launch of my culinary career—maybe because I’ve made them more times than I can count—-I have to honor my fabulous marbled cream cheese brownies. They are my cooking legacy!

The game continues. I invite these food bloggers to join in, and I invite you all to read their marvelous blogs.

Food on Fifth
Darjeeling Dreams
My Little Expat Kitchen
Agri-Girl
Rachel Eats

Cheers!
Nancy

I live in an older neighborhood in midtown Nashville. Mature trees and jungle-like overgrowth create a shady enclave in my backyard, and the postage stamp front “anti-lawn” has a sunny plot devoted to growing a few herbs and vegetables.

A true urban dweller, I do glean pleasure from the natural world in small ways:

From keeping up with the flurry of bright yellow and house finches at my backyard feeder,

to babying the first tomato (!) in my garden patch out front.

These interactions not only pull me out of kitchen world, or off my home office desk chair. They help keep me grounded in the day-to-day, keep my heart open.

But, when I make rare trips to the country, I experience a larger sense of place.

Quite simply, I am awed by the dedicated–and gritty–work of small family farmers. Theirs is not a life I could lead, but a life I admire. They are heroes, integral to the workings of a healthy planet.

On a recent road trip, I visited InTown Organics in Monteagle, Tennessee. (It is “in town” for Monteagle, but nonetheless a rural setting on the South Cumberland Plateau.)

There, the Wilson family–Jess, Nate, Eli, and Stella–have created a sustainable working farm, with abundant vegetables, herbs, and salad greens. Livestock too! We saw chickens, ducks, and turkeys; some goats (and a companion dog who thinks he’s a goat) and oh-so-prolific rabbits. What they don’t need for the family they sell at the Cumberland Farmers Market, or to area restaurants.

Following are few images I want to share with you from my visit, glimpses of life on the Wilson’s farm that may bring a heart-opening moment to your day too.

Meet Stella. Yes, she’s a little shy, but she does have this young bunny to look after.

She’s Jess and Nate’s three-year-old daughter, and Eli’s sister. While Eli is in school, and Nate teaches at the University, Jess and Stella keep things moving on the farm.

Like any child, Stella loves to play. But she also helps her mom in the garden. Impressive, particularly for one so young, Stella knows chard from kale from beets from carrots…and how to hold a carrot-loving bunny, with care.

This is Stella and Eli’s special garden. Stella was quick to point out which plants were hers, and which belonged to her brother.

You couldn’t miss this boisterous fellow. Tom Turkey paraded about the barnyard, tail-fanning and holler-gobbling at any creature in his purview. Jess laughed, “He always has a lot to say. All day long!”

Perhaps it was because his mate, this demure young hen, was nearby nesting, in long and patient wait until her eggs hatch.

Can’t forget the chickens! While it’s impossible to know what this hen was considering, but she had an assured (cocksure!) look in her eye. (No doubt, unaware of the workshop on chicken slaughter that Jess would soon be conducting.)

Those who raise chickens tell me that they are far more interesting to watch than television. Indeed, there is something endlessly fascinating about the movements of these birds.

This baby rabbit came as a double surprise. Part of an unexpected litter, (apparently the doe bred almost immediately after giving birth. It’s true what they say about rabbits!) he is the only black one. Stella especially loves him.

With thanks to Jess for a giving us a warm farm welcome and to our Sewanee guide Sherri for leading the way.

Casa Moonvine Front Porch

From the back terrace window

Guavas and large hibiscus bloom from the “yard”

Costa Rica’s National Flower

Brilliant flowers picked from the grounds

Good Morning Friends, from Costa Rica !

I had a moment, on this astonishing holiday,
to check in and say hey, Buenos Dias Amigos, and tell you a bit about this journey.

I am in a little wi-fi friendly bar in Uvita, drinking an Agua Mineral while Bill is several kilometers down the coastal highway taking his second (!) surfing lesson.

We are on the Pacific, staying in a spectacular home up a steep (as in sometimes straight up) and tortuous (as in crazy hairpin turns) dirt road that overlooks Punta Uvita–a large and curious whale-tail shaped sandbar that juts far out into the water. At high tide, waves lap over the tail and all but cover it up.

The house is in the midst of what is called Secondary Rainforest. It is jungle. We are surrounded by dense and radiant vegetation: mango, guava, and banana trees, brilliant flowering hibiscus, birds of paradise, lantana, heliconia, Jamaica, orchids: large and beautiful flora that we have enjoyed in our homes during the summer months, but flourish year round in this, their natural habitat.

Toucans abound, in seeming impossible flight with those startling, top heavy bills. Butterflies of varieties I have never before seen—some are rust orange, neon blue—appear, and then vanish. They say that monkeys live here too, but they have been shy, so far.

We arrived in this tropical paradise a few days ago, and shall remain until mid-March. It isn’t easy to blog on my tiny net book here–but I hope to write more later, connectivity permitting. But know that I will catch up with you all soon. In Costa Rica, the sign-off is “PURA VIDA” pure life, an acknowledgement of the wonder of life here in all its beauty and blessings.

Pura Vida,
Nancy

In part, due to my nature, in part, a product of my times, I spent my younger entrepreneurial years operating under the radar. Stained glass window designer, silk screen printmaker, craft co-op gallery director, gourmet brownie baker…

My bohemian sensibilities, you might say.

In the late eighties, I went legit, opened a little cafe on a shoestring. Called A Matter of Taste, it was a charming spot housed in a old warehouse facing Nashville’s riverfront. It drew as many characters as customers, and was the springboard for some funny adventures.

I wrote a book about the cafe, the intrepid women who worked with me, our fringy downtown community—all on the cusp of corporate gentrification. Entwining tales of offbeat catering jobs and nurturing meals unfold to a larger story of adaptation.

A Comet’s Tail of Chocolate to date, remains unpublished, although I am thrilled to tell you that an excerpt is included in the latest issue (#10) of Alimentum, The Literature of Food. The title of the story is “The Insurmountable Problem,” and has a drippy chicken delivery man as its star…

I confess, seeing the story in print has made me a bit giddy. So I thank you for indulging me in this small piece of self-promotion. And, I invite to check out this literary review of food. Founded in 2005, Alimentum features poetry, fiction, and essays from writers worldwide.

“That chicken man.” I gritted my teeth. “Gives me the creeps.”

But wait! You know how I always like to give you a recipe with a story. So, here’s a quick and easy one: Cilantro infused Lemonade. The herb pairs beautifully with the citrus; the combo seems right for the advancing summer heat—so cool and refreshing.

Lemon zest and fresh cilantro infuse a simple syrup. ( I believe that lemon basil would be wonderful as well–and I shall try that too, once my lemon basil grows a wee bit taller.) Mix the syrup with a little lemon juice, sparkling water and BLING—you have a sophisticated summer drink. Just the right thing to sip on while savoring the Word of Food.

Cilantro Lemonade
for the Simple Syrup:
1 cup Sugar
2 cups Water
zest of one Lemon, and some slices
1 cup coarsely chopped Cilantro

Place water into a saucepan and stir in sugar. Add zest. Bring to a boil.
Remove from heat and plunge in chopped cilantro. Toss in about 3 thin slices of lemon. Let cool for a couple of hours.

The Glass:
2 T. Infused Simple Syrup
Juice from 1/2 Lemon
Ice
Sparkling Water, like Pelligrino

In a tall glass, put in 2 Tablespoons of Simple Syrup. Squeeze in lemon juice. Drop in ice. Pour in sparkling water and stir. Garnish with lemon slice and cilantro sprig. Sip and enjoy.

We all watched as the door closed and a gnomish pink man with long orange hair and beard in a navy blue uniform scampered off, dolly in hand, to his delivery truck. The Music City Egg truck had a big red chicken painted on its side and was illegally parked on First Avenue, straddling the street and sidewalk at an angle. Underneath the chicken was the enigmatic company slogan, “Yesterday’s lay delivered today.”

The mysterious ways of the orchid elude me.

For over ten years I have owned one such Phalaenopsis, a Moonglow by name, and I am happy that I have managed to keep it alive. But, I can never know, or predict, if it will bloom. Or not. And, I would say that for the past five years, possibly six, it’s been A Not.

Oh, it has sent out abundant gnarly roots, grey-green tangles that have scrambled over the pot, seeking…what? It has grown measurably taller, leaf after leaf. And so, I have continued watering my orchid, rotating it in the window, keeping it out of direct sun.

But this January, something different was stirring. Who can say what inspired, or prompted this dramatic move out of dormancy. One morning, when watering, I noticed not one but two protuberances–and not at all rootlike, but stalks, actual stems!

For the past several weeks, I’ve watched as both have grown long and winding on their sunroom table perch, seeking light, sending out a series of buds along the branch..

Which have now opened up, these Moonglow blooms. Breathtaking, Times Two.

Last week roaming the grocery store aisles, I stopped and rummaged through a cart filled with reject or discontinued items. Usually there’s nothing I would ever want: post-Christmas candy canes, failed blends of baby food, hair straightener…but every now and then, well, ya never know. There could be a prize. Once I found some very pricey imported pasta, pappardelle from Italy, packed in a long box like a dozen roses, and sold for the cost of Kraft mac-and-cheese.

This time, what caught my eye were two boxes of Maldon Salt. Gasp! Yes, bonafide, from the UK, those natural sea salt flakes, chips, sparks of true pure saltiness, cherished by chefs ’round the world. One of the best of finishing salts, really.

Curiously,the boxes carried neither original nor markdown price.

“Maldon Salt is pretty dang expensive,” I sort of announced to myself and a couple of befuddled shoppers nearby. I’d never seen it on the store shelf, and so tossed the box into the buggy (our dixie term for shopping cart), figuring I’d find out the price at checkout. If it was in an affordable range, then it was a buy.

I presented my checker with the Maldon and my request.

“So, this is the Rolls-Royce of salt?” he said.

“Something like that,” I smiled.

Nothing scanned at checkout; the store manager was called over to do a price check on our special salt. After a while, she returned with her register key and punched in a series of numbers which rung up Sea Salt $1.79.

My eyes widened. So did my checker’s. “Rolls Royce for the price of a Hyundai.”

There’s so much stuff in our physical world; whatever thing you might need or want is bound to be out there, somewhere, I’m convinced of it. It’s a simple matter of asking.

I’m working on an article for Relish Magazine about “Magic Cobblers” with recipes that, instead of traditional 9″x13″baking pans, use uncommon, individual porcelain containers for serving. Containers like latte cups, sherbet bowls, and now, these little Le Creuset hearts.

I had no idea that the maker of enameled cast-iron cookery now makes assorted items in porcelain. And when Joseph, the LeCreuset store manager, learned that I was looking for something a little different for my story, he came through with these perfect heart-shaped crocks to do a magic cobbler recipe test. So nice! So helpful. Sweet.

Wishing you all a pleasant week, graced by those simple unforeseen gifts that surround us.

Your friend,
Nance

These little lantern-like flowers are harbingers of blueberries!

It all started when I won two blueberry bushes in a raffle at the farmers market last year.

“Where shall we plant them?” I asked Bill.

The best place, we assessed, was in a small sunny patch of the front yard alongside a smattering of perennial herbs and flowers already growing.

But, once in place, two bushes didn’t seem to be enough.

“We need two more,” Bill said.

We bought two more.

Four blueberry bushes full of little ripening globes in the front yard opened up a world of previously unconsidered possibilities. Why shouldn’t other summer favorites be included?

Seeing no wrong answer, we expanded our tiny urban garden patch for Tomatoes, planting two Bradleys, one Cherokee Purple and one Mortgage Lifter. Then, I found a packet of heirloom cherry tomato seeds left over from a lawn and garden fair promotion and got several started in containers for the garden. Volunteer vines from last Halloween’s pumpkin assortment sprouted up and joined in.

We called it the Upper Forty—as in 40 inches.

“Gonna check on the crops in the Upper 40,” I’d say.

It was such great joy to walk out the front door and pick blueberries for the morning’s yogurt and cereal. Or peek under pumpkin blossoms in search of developing fruit. Or patiently monitor the redness of tomatoes.

“Not now,” Bill would caution. “Maybe tomorrow.”

We live on a busy boulevard in midtown Nashville, but with ample sidewalks and a bike lane, it’s an active neighborhood of walkers, runners, and cyclists. Our little patch of fruits and veggies seemed to be giving a great deal of joy—if not, providing at least a modest curiosity— to many of them.

“Is that a real pumpkin?”

“I didn’t know you could grow blueberries here.”

“Nice lookin’ tomatoes.”

“Can I grow that in a pot?”

So, this year we decided to grow the Upper Forty—increase our urban farmette. We widened our patch. So far, I have planted assorted lettuces, chard, pak-choi, kale.

Baby Romaine

Red Russian Kale

Then, we made our radical move. A testament to our hippie heritage, we seized the little plot of earth–the easement–across the sidewalk from our house. If you happen to stroll our way, you may see the row of onions and the many mounds emerging with potato plants.

Potato plant from sprouted eyes

All of this is to say that growing these bits of food is good for many reasons. In no way do my endeavors compare with my farmer and master gardener friends; I can’t wait for the bounty that they’ll have to offer.

But it feels right to have our Upper Forty, not only for the delicious fruits and vegetables we’ll bring to the table, but for the beauty and pleasure they provide to our little piece of the hood. If I can grow things, so can you!

With spring and summer, there are many good things to come. Look forward to recipes for all sorts of salads and dressings, blueberry buckles and tea breads, swiss chard gratinee, squash strata, tomato-basil pie….

Use this as a place to share:
Do any of you have a garden or farmette? Vertical containers? Pots of herbs?
Growing pains? Growing tips?

Blooming Chives

Ah, I mustn’t forget—-the plum tree in my backyard. It’s dripping with fruit. If I can beat out the squirrels, we’ll have plum sauce, plum tart, plum vinegar, and more…Stay tuned!

Beginnings of Plums

This celadon beauty is an heirloom pumpkin—a jarrahdale blue.
It grew at the end of a long and persistent vine that originated in the flower bed off my urban front porch and tendriled its way through the yard to the street. I’d like to claim that I had something to with it, but other than allowing last year’s pumpkins to rot and slump into that flower bed, I did not. My prized baby blue is a true volunteer.

Hurray for volunteers!

It’s in that spirit that this blog is created:
A place to share stories, tips, and recipes about foods that I’m cooking at the moment, or finding at a farmer’s market, in a friends garden, my front yard, or teaching about in a class. For all our obsession on food in our culture—the fast, the slow, the exotic, the celebrated—I find that focusing on what we can make simply, with fresh ingredients, can best nourish body and spirit.

Good Food Matters.