China Bayles' Book of Days (63 page)

• Copal, a resin from the copal tree (
Bursera bipinnata
), is an ancient ceremonial incense of the Aztecs, gathered as a resinous sap from their sacred tree. In pre-Columbian times, it was burned, with human sacrifices, on top of the Aztec and Mayan pyramids. It is burned on the
ofrenda
to bless and purify the returning souls of the dead.

Explore the relationships between people, places, and plants in the American Southwest:

Beliefs and Holy Places: A Spiritual Geography of the Pimeria Alta
, by James S. Griffith

NOVEMBER 3

A garden is a thing of beauty and a job forever.

—RICHARD BRIERS

Just Say Goodnight

It’s sad to watch the garden fading into winter, but at least we don’t have to say goodbye. Spring will return, as naturally as the sun will rise tomorrow morning. All we have to do is ready the garden so that it can rest until its renewal a few months hence. Here’s a to-do list that will help you prepare your garden for its winter’s nap.

•
Clean Out and Cut Back
. Shoals of dead leaves and rotten stalks can harbor disease, even through the winter season. But don’t cut plants back to the ground, and don’t pick up every dead leaf. Leave seed heads for the winter birds, some plant stalks to protect the crowns, and others for their wintertime beauty.

•
Cover Up
. Mulch is the best winter protection for your plants. Wait until the ground has frozen slightly, to ensure the plants’ dormancy. If the snow falls, mulch over the snow. Some woody perennials and shrubs may benefit from soil mounded around the base. Biennials that produce a rosette of leaves on the surface of the ground (foxglove, pansies, mullein, for instance) may benefit from a box covering; other plants will do very well under a blanket of leaves, particularly oak leaves, which mat down less. Tender shrubs may need to be screened or wrapped (with burlap or something similar,
not
plastic.)

•
Dig In
. A few hardy shrubs and perennials can still be put into the ground, especially corms, bulbs, and roots—saffron crocuses, for instance, and horseradish. Mulch as necessary.

•
Write Down.
You’ll find a garden log very helpful next spring, when you’re trying to identify those first tentative green shoots and wondering whether you divided that artemisia last fall or should do it now. Draw a diagram of each bed, noting the plants and adding photos where possible. A little extra effort now will pay off next spring.

The herb garden values its winter’s rest:
The knot and the border, and the rosemary gay
Do crave the like succour, for the dying away. . . .
—THOMAS TUSSER, FIVE HUNDRED POINTS OF GOOD HUSBANDRY

NOVEMBER 4

In some years, this is Election Day.

Election Cake

I was browsing through an early nineteenth-century cookbook the other day when I came across a recipe for something called Election Cake. “Old-fashioned election cake,” I read, “is made of four pounds of flour . . .”

Election cake? I’d never heard of it! But some online research pulled up an answer, from an article written by the well-known food historian Alice Ross. Election cake, Dr. Ross says, was a tradition that began back in England, with the “Great Cake,” rich, spicy fruit-filled cakes baked to celebrate important family or community occasions. One such occasion arose during the Revolutionary War, when men flocked to the colonial towns to report for duty in the Revolutionary Army. The inns and taverns served cake: “Mustering Cake.” After the War, men came to town again—this time to vote in elections for which they had fought and died. It was time to celebrate again, this time, with “Election Cake.”

A recipe for Election Cake appears in the second edition of Amelia Simmons’
American Cookery
(1800)—a truly American cookbook, with recipes for such colonial novelties as Johnny Cake, Indian Slapjacks, “Pompkin pudding” (the first pumpkin pie), cooked squash with whortleberries, even the quintessentially American Spruce Beer. What’s more, Mrs. Simmons was the first cookbook author to use the word
cooky
, from the Dutch “koekje,” the treats offered in colonial New York to holiday callers. So it seems altogether appropriate that
American Cookery
should include recipes for three American cakes: Independence Cake, Federal Pan Cake, and Election Cake. Here is Amelia Simmons’ recipe for a cake that was obviously intended to be served to a large crowd of enthusiastic voters.

ELECTION CAKE

30 quarts flour, 10 pound butter, 14 pound sugar, 12
pound raisins, 3 doz eggs, one pint wine, one quart
brandy, 4 ounces cinnamon, 4 ounces fine colander
seed, 3 ounces ground allspice; wet the flour with milk
to the consistence of bread over night, adding one
quart yeast; the next morning work the butter and
sugar together for half an hour, which will render the
cake much lighter and whiter; when it has rise light
work in every other ingredient except the plumbs,
which work in when going into the oven.

Read more about Election Cake (including additional recipes):

“Election Cake,” by Alice Ross,
The Journal of Antiques and Collectibles,
October, 2003.

Coriander seed was once used extensively in confectionery. They seeds are quite round, like tiny balls, about the size of a Sweet Pea Seed. The longer they are kept the more fragrant they become, with a warm pungent taste.

—MRS. GRIEVE, A MODERN HERBAL, 1931

NOVEMBER 5

This week is National Split Pea Soup Week. And tomorrow is National Men Make Dinner Night!

Pease porridge hot,
Pease porridge cold,
Pease porridge in the pot
Nine days old.
—TRADITIONAL RHYME

Pease Porridge Hot

Dried peas were a staple food well into the nineteenth century. They were easy to grow and store, and they made a wholesome, nutritious meal. In many homes, a kettle filled with a thick porridge of peas and other vegetables—with bacon, if the good wife could afford it—hung over the fire. At night, when the fire died down, any leftover porridge got cold. In the morning, when the fire was rekindled, the porridge warmed up, and more peas and vegetables went into the pot. If it wasn’t thoroughly stirred, the pease porridge at the bottom of the pot might have been even older than nine days!

At China’s house, McQuaid makes dinner at least once a week. And since split pea soup is so easy, it’s frequently on the menu. With sausage, hot bread, and a salad, it’s a full meal.

MIKE MCQUAID’S SPLIT PEA SOUP

2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons butter
3 slices bacon, chopped
1 medium onion, diced
2 carrots, diced
2 stalks celery, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 cups dried split peas
½ teaspoon dried marjoram
½ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
1 bay leaf
fresh ground pepper, salt or Savory Blend to taste
(August 29)
sour cream, parsley for garnish

Wash and drain the split peas and set aside. In a large, covered pot, heat the olive oil, butter and bacon. Sauté until the bacon is slightly transparent. Add the carrots, onion, celery, and garlic. Sauté over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until the onion is transparent (10-15 minutes). Add the peas, bay leaf, marjoram, and red pepper flakes. Add enough cold water to cover the peas, and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and cover the pot. Simmer for about 2 hours, stirring every 15 minutes and adding water as necessary. When done, remove the bay leaf and taste for seasoning, adding salt and fresh ground black pepper if you like. If you want a smoother soup, puree about half of it in a blender; return to pot, reheat, and serve. Garnish with sour cream and chopped parsley.

Find out more about beans:

Easy Beans: Fast and Delicious Bean, Pea, and Lentil Recipes
, by Trish Ross

NOVEMBER 6

Going Places: Summers Past Farms,
Flinn, California

For most of us, summer is only a memory, but at Summers Past Farms, nestled in the foothills 30 minutes east of downtown San Diego, it is summer all year round. With its many gardens of flowers and herbs, this beautiful herb farm is a unique and delightful destination for winter-weary travelers.

Summers Past began in 1987, when Sheryl and Marshall Lozier recognized the potential in the place where Marshall’s family had lived for more than half a century. Sheryl, whose love of cooking began in childhood, wanted to plant an herb garden. Marshall, a builder and contractor, wanted to build a barn. The garden blossomed, the post-and-timber barn grew into a showplace, and in 1992 the couple opened the gate to their five-acre dream: Summers Past Farms. Now, the Loziers work in the gardens and in their herbal soap shop, offer classes, and hold such special events as Sweet Pea Day, a Geranium Day, and a fairy festival. “Our lifestyle is our inspiration to keep this small family business growing,” Sheryl says.

The holiday season is always a busy one at Summers Past, where the traditions of herbal Christmas are cherished. The season begins with a November Open House, featuring a display of lights, candles, potpourri, and holiday gifts. Hot wassail and fresh-baked cookies are served in the barn loft, and the farm’s workshops feature herbal vinegar making (Sheryl has written a book about it, available at the farm) and holiday wreaths. “In my favorite workshop,” Sheryl reports, “we make a fresh pine and rosemary centerpiece decorated with cones and cinnamon sticks—a Christmassy fragrance that lasts all through the holiday. We also show people how to craft wreaths of the herbs in their gardens: bay laurel, sages, thyme and sweet Annie.”

But behind the scenes, a great deal more is going on, for November is the time when Sheryl and Marshall plant their famous Sweet Pea Maze, which blossoms in April and May. Theresa Loe, a garden writer who often visits Summers Past, told me that she loves to lose herself in the towering maze of fragrant sweet peas, where she gathers her own bouquet as she weaves her way through the labyrinth to the secret garden at the center. “It’s magical,” Theresa says. “And I love the Soap Shoppe, too—especially the many wonderful bar soaps.” Sheryl makes and sells a dozen different vegetable-oil herbal soaps, including peppermint, lavender, rosemary, and cinnamon.

Summers Past Farms is open year-round. You can learn more on-line, at
summerspastfarms.com
, where you’ll find hours and directions, information about workshops, links to photos of the gardens, and that wonderful soap shop, as well.

NOVEMBER 7

Some people like to paint pictures, or do gardening, or build a boat in the basement. Other people get a tremendous pleasure out of the kitchen, because cooking is just as creative and imaginative an activity as drawing, or wood carving, or music.

—JULIA CHILD

Bouquet Garni

The idea of a “bouquet”—a gathering of flowers or an aroma—is French (of course), and the “bouquet garni” is a culinary term that combines the two: a bundle of aromatic herbs tied with string. In that way, the herbs leave only their flavor behind. No soggy leaves or twiggy bits mar the clarity or texture—or betray the cook’s most closely held herbal secrets! The more we learn about the subtle tastes and aromas of herbs, the more we are likely to rely on this simple culinary technique.

Bouquet garni varies from dish to dish and from cook to cook. The most effective bouquet garni is made with just 2-4 herbs, with a modest amount of each: 2-3 sprigs of parsley, a sprig of thyme, a sprig of dried celery leaves, and a few fennel seeds will season a fish soup. (You can dry the celery tops in your oven, with the pilot on.) The length of time the herbs are left in the cooking pot depends on the taste you want to achieve. Fresh or dry herbs? Fresh have more life, but dry are preferred in stews or soups that involve long cooking.

Here are some suggested combinations, on which you can base your own experiments. You, too, can be a creative French chef!

• Poultry: sage, fennel, rosemary, marjoram, whole clove, juniper berry

• Beef: thyme, parsley, bay, summer or winter savory, dried orange peel, peppercorn

• Vegetable soups, tomato sauces: marjoram, parsley, bay, basil, dried celery

• Steamed fish, clams: oregano, parsley, thyme, chervil, chives