Frenemies, Round Two

A temporary truce settles among my animals when the mercury drops. You might remember Dexter's similar behavior last winter. It's just one big house of equal opportunity warmth seizers around here.

Little House on the Knob

From last night. I think we're up to around 9" right now, with the possibility for more before sundown. Power's on, though, the wood stove is roasting, sipping a latte, working on the sixth chapter in "Keeping Bees." So far, so good.

*It's hard to capture a still photo of dogs who enjoy snow as much as mine. Dexter practically squealed with delight when we let him out (there's a reason one of his many, many nicknames is "Pig"). At least some members of our household appreciate the white fluff for just what it is.

Here Comes the Snow, Again

Falling on my head like a memory...

That bent birch branch (say that 10 times fast!) in the top photo is a vestige of last month's snowpocalypse, as is the dismembered top of the magnolia. Here's hoping for no repeats!

Time For Tea

Happy Friday, everyone! We're on the verge of yet another wintery blast, slated to make it's frigid appearance later this afternoon. While I wish we had a bit more firewood on hand (the gentleman we hired to bring us wood has only delivered half of the cord and won't return my calls inquiring about the other half; if any of you Ashevillians know a reliable source of properly seasoned hardwood firewood, I'd love to hear about them), I think we'll be good for up to 3-4 days, should we loose power again. Otherwise, we're set!

My "Small Measures with Ashley" post is up on Design Sponge. Today's topic, "Time for Tea", explores the multi-sensory benefits of imbibing tea. I'm drinking a cup of my homemade chai as I type! Nothing like a hearty dose of ginger, honey, spices, and black tea to warm up the belly and fortify the immune system!

Stay warm and dry this weekend!

*Image from here.

Wisdom of the Ancients

The description on my "Wisdom of the Trees "calender for this month indicates that "Trees set a relaxed pace."

It goes on to say, "Studies suggest that trees have the ability to curb road rage when they're planted in urban environments. Being enveloped by lush green lanes as opposed to stark surroundings that consist only of asphalt and concrete not only reduces drivers' blood pressure-it also reduces the perceived time it takes to get from one destination to the next."

How incredibly wise of them.

Much like the cuteness of babies makes you want to stick around and care for all of their many needs, the calming, placating effect of trees makes us want to have them around. The stewardship goes both ways. They purify our air and relax us, while we provide space for them to continue to grow and thrive.

They've got us wrapped around their sturdy limbs, haven't they?

The tree above is the Fortingall Yew in Perthshire, Scotland. It's estimated age is between 2,000-5,000 years. I'm sure it has some stories to tell. No doubt its charm, and calm, are a testament to its longevity. Perhaps that's the secret-the more we work towards helping others around us achieve a calm, relaxed state, the more charming we become, and the more lengthy lives we'll then lead, as they'll want to keep us around....

For a list of other wise, long-lived trees, look here.

*Image from here.

Bohemien Rhapsody

I love a good story. I also love a good cocktail. When the good story and the good cocktail interact, well, then I'm pretty much smitten.

Such was the case recently with a beverage encountered whilst dining with my lovely editor, and best gal pal, Nicole. She was graciously treating me to dinner at The Admiral, a little gem of a restaurant/bar in West Asheville that set up shop just over a year ago and has since experienced wild success (I just firmed up a Valentine's Day reservation there today, which will undoubtedly be sublime in every imaginable way). We'd both opted to have one of their signature cocktails, "The Admiralflower." It was love at first sip. A mixture of St. Germain, champagne, and lemons, I would gladly, and liberally, drink the Admiralflower to the exclusion of all other beverages (while I might regret it the next morning, I would accept my forthcoming hair-of-the-dog fate willingly).

Here's the bit about the good story/good cocktail intersection. For those of you unfamiliar with St. Germain, it is an artisanal French liquor made from hand-picked elderflower blossoms. You can read the story in detail here, but the gist of it goes something like this: Every year, for but a few ephemeral Spring days, a handful of Frenchmen, known as "un bohemien" (there are only 40-50 in the world), handpick wild elderflower blossoms in the French Alps, and then bicycle those blossoms (BICYCLE THEM!!!) in large sacks down the mountainside, where they sell the blossoms at market. Can't you just see it: mustachioed, craggy-faced, cigarette-lipped "Bohemiens", delicately cradling fragrant elderflower blossoms, undoubtedly wearing berets and frayed blazers with suede elbow patches all the while?

I can't imagine anything so decidedly slow-paced and anachronistic, where beverages are concerned. This appeals to me on so many levels-the loving attention to something fragile and delicate, the fleeting nature of the blossoms and the powerhouse of fragrance they exude, the emphasis on region and season and preservation. The fact that St. Germain possesses one of the most exquisitely palate-pleasing flavors I have ever encountered (you know how honeysuckle smells? that's how St. Germain tastes) just seals the deal. I know what I'll be drinking on Valentine's Day.

*Image from here.

Winter Citrus Can Jam

I don't know if it's the recent prolonged cold spell, or simply the usual drab, dullness of winter, but I can't seem to get enough citrus in my life these days. I'm not alone here, either. Studio Choo's recent Citrus & Rosemary post, along with Grace's nod (both on Design Sponge) to the puckery fruits bear witness to just how enamored many of us seem to be lately with all things citrus. Even the New York Times' own Mark Bittman recently posted this recipe extolling the unparalleled flavor of the brightly colored orbs (with a hint of tarragon, no less-genius!).

And for good reason. Winter is peak time for a number of citrus fruits. From clementines to honeybells (I hate to pick favorites, but, if backed into a corner and forced to choose camps, I'd choose honeybells), grocery stores and produce stands are currently offering a veritable orchard of citrus delights. I'm just as large an advocate of eating seasonally as I am eating locally, and the season for citrus is right now. The nutritional profile and flavor of offerings from Temple oranges to Honey tangerines are top tier. And so, today's small measure is all about enjoying, and whenever possible, extending (via home canning) the deliciousness of winter citrus.

My husband and I both have family in Florida. Mine recently festooned us in person with a smattering of everything from meyer lemons to grapefruits and kumquats, while his just shipped us our annual allotment from a neighboring orchard. Suffice to say, we're awash in a world of citrus. To use up our glorious orbs, I made this Roasted Orange Tart. I've squeezed fresh juice for breakfast. I'm considering a citrus trifle from this lady. I also padded around in my p.j.'s earlier this week and created a Triple Citrus & Star Anise Marmalade.

As a participant in the ongoing year-long "Can Jam" challenge hosted by blogger Tigress in a Jam (as well as Tigress In a Pickle), I knew I needed to concoct something citrusy anyways. Each month, Tigress (or her participants) choose one seasonally available ingredient to render into a canned item. This month's selection was the general category of "citrus." Lucky me. I've got everything I need on hand, and then some. The sweet and sour blend is perfect for hot buttered toast, the anise giving it just the perfect hint of licorice-y sweetness and intrigue. You could also plop a dollop into thumbprint cookies or even spoon some over roasted chicken.

In the meantime, I've still got that mountain of citrus to contend with. Any suggestions you might have would be immensely appreciated!

Triple Citrus & Star Anise Marmalade

Yield: Approximately 7 pint jars.

The Goods:

-4 tangerines

-4 oranges

-4 lemons

-6 c. water

-6 star anise

-6 c. granulated sugar

The Deal:

-Place two small plates in the freezer (these will be used later to test for gelling).

-Quarter all of the fruits. Once quartered, separate the peel from the flesh. Chop the flesh up into small pieces, removing seeds as you see them. Place seeds in a muslin tea bag. The seeds contain a good deal of pectin and will aid in thickening the marmalade. Thinly slice the peel into long strips, then cut the strips into smaller, 1/2-inch pieces.

-Put seed bag, fruit flesh, sliced peel, and water in a heavy, large stainless steel soup or stock pot. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Boil for 5 minutes, cover, and remove from heat. Allow to cool at room temperature overnight or for at least 8 hours.

-Remove lid from pot, and place over medium heat. Add star anise. Bring mixture to a gentle simmer; cook for 15 minutes. Add sugar, stir, and continue cooking over low heat for 45 minutes or until mixture reaches 220 degrees F on a candy thermometer.

-About 30 minutes into the cooking time, you'll want to begin prepping the canner, jars, and lids. Sterilize 7 pint-sized mason jars, lids, and screw. Fill a canner or large stockpot with water and set over medium-high heat. Bring just to boiling point. Place lids in a small saucepan, fill with water, bring to a boil, turn off heat, remove from stovetop, and set aside.

-Test for gelling. Remove one plate from the freezer and spoon about 1 tsp. of the marmalade onto it. Place back in the freezer and wait two minutes. Remove the plate from the freezer and push the edge of the marmalade with your fingertip. If it is gelled properly, the surface will wrinkle a bit. If it fails to wrinkle, or is obviously still runny, continue cooking the marmalade for 5 minutes longer and then repeat the test.

- Place hot jars on top of a kitchen cloth on the counter. Remove seed bag from marmalade, squeezing to remove any juices. With the help of a canning funnel, pack marmalade into jars, reserving ¼ -inch headspace. I added one star anise to each jar for aesthetic purposes, but feel free to just remove and compost them if you'd prefer. Use a non-metallic spatula to remove any trapped air bubbles and wipe rims clean with a damp cloth. Place on lids and screw bands, tightening only until fingertip-tight.

- Using a jar lifter, place jars in canner. Process 15 minutes in a boiling-water bath. Remember to adjust for altitude. Check to se that the jars have sealed properly, label, and store in a cool, dark area.

*This article is cross-posted today on Design Sponge.