As you are well aware, lasagna has a few components. It’s a very complicated dish, dear reader. A lot of ins, a lot of outs, a lot of what-have-yous. A lot of strands to keep in one’s head. Not really. It’s just a lot of layers. Pasta, tomato sauce, ricotta mixture, cheese and whatever other fillings – in this case it’s reconstituted dried mushrooms and steamed, chopped spinach.
What do you get with you put together quite a bit of leftover holiday ham, quite a bit of leftover holiday eggnog, and quite a bit of holiday vacation time? A Ham and Eggnog Quiche experiment that could turn out to be either brilliant or vile. Fortunately this turned out on the brilliant side of things.
We recently joined a terrific farm share and it is so fun. Each week we go on a little road trip to the farm a few towns away where we get to pick our own vegetables. The variety is actually really great, despite it being December. So far there have been plenty of leeks, cabbage, greens, some fantastic Brussels sprouts, squash, turnips and radishes, as well as apples and pears that have been growing on the farm since the 17th century. The vegetables just seem so happy. There’s something rejuvenating about going to a place with beautiful soil, sunlight and adorable animals, as opposed to a fluorescent-lit, linoleum-tiled supermarket.
We are former city-folk and this was the first blessed summer that I’ve had the opportunity to grow a vegetable garden since growing up in the ‘burbs (I don’t count the tomato plants I had on my fire escape in college). I was so eager to get started that I planted the seeds in little peat pots in early April and coddled them along on our porch.
When we first moved into our new place a few months ago, the garden was looking pretty dead. A closer inspection found dirt and little brown, dead-looking shoots sticking out of the ground everywhere. The following two months were a whirlwind of final papers, commencement activities, and art shows (M.Ed., thanks for wondering) and before we knew it, the garden was filled with fresh, fragrant mint. Those little brown shoots were mint, which I quickly learned is an extremely invasive weed. When it came time to plant other things, I had no choice but to thin the mint, and one wheelbarrow full of fresh mint and plenty of minty-muddled glasses of water later and I had the idea for this recipe.
So, I know I’m like two years late on the whole ramps trend, but I’ve never been one for following the herd (though I do love imagining the sound a tiny herd of ramps would make… shuffle shuffle shuffle). Ramps are known as one of the very first vegetables to come out of the ground in Spring. They are just as much a harbinger of the bounteous warmer months as a clam shack reopening on a 45 degree April afternoon.
As you may have noticed, YC’s been on hiatus for a bit here. Winters are rough, I’m finishing up graduate school, working and living my life. I don’t want to be one of those cliche bloggers who says, “Oh dear me. I’ve totally neglected my blog,” but here you have it. Whatever. Blogs are cliche anyway, so no harm done.
This lovely little nibble is always a big hit at parties. It adds a hearty touch to round out a menu of veggies, dip and canapes. The spices and salt break down the meat as it marinates overnight, resulting in tender, delicious morsels.
The nice thing about making chili in a slow cooker is that there’s less risk of burning the bottom of the pot and therefore less need to watch it closely. You can go about your afternoon and come home to a nice hot bowl of spicy, meaty goodness. It’s also pretty quick compared to other slow cooker recipes – 4 hours on high and you’re good.
Snow day! There’s something about snow that makes me want to bake. I think it’s the way the snow drifts in the wind like sifted flour and clumps up along walkways like dough. I have a feeling I’m not alone in this association. Snickerdoodles are a classic cookie from New England and we New Englanders are no strangers to snow.