Cottage Kitchen Reno

I've been asked to collaborate with Nephew to renovate the kitchen in a little old farmhouse.  I ordered the cabinets a couple of months ago and we finally began the actual work a few weeks ago.  It's been keeping me busy, but we've reached the slower time of year for our farm, so it's a good project to be working on now.

As best I can tell, this house was originally built in the 30's or 40's.  We were told that it was moved to it's current location in the 60's.  Either then or at a later date, someone did some DIY remodel.  They opened up the kitchen to the dining and living room, moved some walls, added a bath and who knows what else.

This is the kitchen before Nephew started the demolition.

This is the view from the living room.  Clearly, a wall was removed where those beams are.  They look good and solid, but we were in for a nasty surprise when Nephew got into the demo.

I spent a day scraping the popcorn ceiling off.

Ugh.  I had ugly thoughts about the person who invented popcorn ceiling texture.

It became clear that the walls needed to be torn down to the studs.  There was no insulation, but the walls were surprisingly cool to the touch even on the west side with the afternoon sun beaming on them.  Two layers of insulation were installed - one by me and one by Nephew.  I felt it was overkill, but that's not my department, so I just did as I was told.  At least there won't be any problems with the kitchen being too hot or too cold.

This was one of the layers of wallpaper that we found.  I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I kind of like it.

All cabinets removed and part of the sheetrock is done.

So, the nasty secret...those beams that were holding up the ceiling?  They weren't resting on any supports under the floor.  And, the beam across the ceiling was not supporting any joist.  It was just two by fours resting on the floor and on top of that, no supporting beam.

So...

Tom and Nephew crawled under the house to put in some supports.

It was a dirty job.  Eek!  When I was little, I used to voluntarily play in the crawl space under our childhood home.  It would take some powerful motivation to get me under there now.

Nephew emerging from the depths.

And cutting blocks and beams for the supports.

After the floor was shored up, they turned their attention to the ceiling.

They made a crazy network of wooden supports on jack stands alongside the beam that was supposed to be supporting the ceiling.  They jacked up the ceiling far enough to lift the weight off of the original supports so that they could be removed.  

Here it is from a different angle.  In the middle is the new beam not yet supported by new columns.  The weight is being born on the supports on either side of the middle beam.

I didn't get pictures of the finished supports, but they are done and the area is now structurally sound. There's a lot more to be done, but it's exciting to look forward to the installation of the cabinets and having a beautiful new kitchen.

Disclaimer:  I do not pretend to know the proper terms for the the things in the attic or in the crawl space that structurally support a house.  I did the best I could with words like "joists and beams" to describe the situation.

Speaking of Guineas

Turns out that guineas are much better parents than I've been led to believe.  The most recently hatched keets have done very well.  Eleven out of twenty hatched successfully.  After I moved them all to the coop, thinking they'd be safer there, I could see that the babies were able to get through the chicken wire.  And they did go through.  I thought that would be OK since they always just popped right back inside, not wanting to be far from their mother.  In fact, they usually stayed right under their mother.  But, I was wrong about them being safer.  When I checked on them one morning a few days after putting them in the coop, four of them were missing, including the little grey one that I wanted to keep.  I suspect that they popped through the chicken wire at an inopportune time and the cat or some other critter grabbed them up.  There were a couple of others still out.  They had gotten confused and were trying to follow another guinea around.  I decided that they had a better chance of survival if I just let them all out and the mother could at least try to protect them.

She has done far better than I did at protecting them.  She hasn't lost one since they've been out and roaming all over the farm.  The guinea in the above picture is the mate.  They mostly hang out in pairs.  The mother and keets are behind him in the tall grass.  You can see the mother's head poking up.

There she is with her little brood of seven.  They follow her closely.

Most of the time, directly under her.

She doesn't look very attentive, but she is.  If anything comes near them, she will puff up, charge, and peck if she gets a chance.  She gave a curious goat a good peck yesterday because it came a little too close to the babies.  I suspect that Ginger and Harry have been warned in a similar manner because they leave the babies alone.

She roams all over the property with them.  I'm glad to see that she periodically brings them back to the coop.

She shows them the way in.

They all tumble in, have a little drink from their waterer and peck around for a little hen scratch.

I need to find homes for them before they get much bigger.  I hate to take them away from her and it will be a challenge.  But, if I don't get rid of them.  I'm going to be overrun with guineas.  I have a hen sitting on 28 eggs right now.  They should hatch in a few weeks if left undisturbed.

Gardens and Guineas

Well, I learned a valuable lesson this season.  Don't depend on the guineas to keep my garden pest- free.  Oh, and taking the easy way out doesn't always turn out the way I want it to.  I should have remembered that God told Adam, "cursed is the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life" and, "In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread" (or, pumpkin, as the case may be).  Genesis 3:17 and 19.

The whole reason I got the guineas was so that they'd eat the squash bugs and I wouldn't have to spend time sweating on my hands and knees searching for those squash bugs and their eggs.  And they did keep the garden squash bug free at the beginning of the season.  I was feeling pretty cocky.  My boutique pumpkin vines were big and healthy and blooming.  They took up half the garden and were reaching for more space.

But...I guess the guineas found greener pastures.  They wanted what was on the other side of the fence.  They roamed further and further afield.  Sure, we don't have a grasshopper problem, or an army worm problem.  There's hardly a tick to be found.  But, in the garden, this is what happened...

The squash bugs built themselves a kingdom.  By the time I realized how powerful they had become, it was too late.  The pumpkin vines were desimated. 

I didn't get one useable pumpkin.  There will be no boutique pumpkin sale at the farmer's market this year.  I am so bummed.

More Keets

I've been monitoring this guinea hen that's been sitting on 20 eggs.  I figured it was about time for them to hatch.  When I went to check on her yesterday evening, she had several little balls of fluff surrounding her.  I hate to interfere with the natural process, but if Harry and Ginger, or some other creature come upon the little keets, I'm pretty sure they would get eaten.

So, I decided to move them.  At first, I thought I'd just take the keets and put them in a separate cage, but, I did not expect the fight that the hen put up.

At first, she just pecked me hard, but stayed on her nest.  After, I got a few of the keets into my little travel cage, she went into full attack mode - off the nest flapping around me, biting and pecking.  Ouch!  She tore my hands up.  I found out that guinea beaks are not sharp, but they can do some damage. 

Since she was putting up such a fight and I really didn't want to have to worry about keeping the keets warm or, really, to take care of them at all, I ran back to the house to get an old towel.  I went back out there and tossed it over her, swaddling her up tight so she couldn't see what I was doing or fight me.  As I held her tucked under one arm, I gathered up the rest of the babies and unhatched eggs (two were already pipped, but there were several that hadn't done anything) and put them into the guinea coop.

All but one of the babies look the same.  That little grey one in the front apparently has some throw-back blood in it.  I think I'll keep that one.  It will be interesting to see what color it turns out to be.  I looked up "grey keets" and it could be one of several colors.  All but one of our adult guineas are "Pearl Grey" like the one pictured here.  We have one male that is a charcoal color without all those dots.

I went to check on them this morning.  One of the pipped eggs had hatched, but one was still stuck in the shell.  Like before, the mother had abandoned the eggs and they were cold.  I thought the keet still stuck in the shell was dead, but was surprised to find it still alive when I picked a little of the shell off.    I cracked the rest of the eggs and was relieved that none of them were fully formed keets.  I guess the hen knew this and that's why she abandoned them.  I'd like to know how they can tell.  Maybe the hen can feel heartbeats in the eggs and she sits there until there are no more heartbeats.

Pig Slop

In caring for Piglett, I'm finding the true meaning of "I ate like a pig, or he eats like a pig".  Not only does she eat an enormous amount, she is messy.  I don't know how she does it, but her food pan and water dish always have a layer of mud in them.

This is her evening meal.  Daughter-in-law left me a whole bunch of expired canned food that I was slowly feeding to the chickens.  I thought feeding Piglett would make better use of it.  So, this is one whole can of green beans, one can of tuna, and half a package of crackers.  She will eat all of it tonight and an equally big portion in the morning.  In addition, she will eat anything else I give her throughout the day.  She especially enjoys melon rinds.

She is losing her fear of me and will hardly even wait until I set the dish down before she digs in.  I was able to be right beside her to take pictures.  I haven't tried to touch her yet because I'm still a little wary of her sharp little teeth.  I don't know if pigs bite, but I don't want to find out.

Eggplant Parmigianna, Gluten Free

This is my version of eggplant parmigianna (or parmesan for those of us in Hicksville).  It's gluten free, quick and easy, just like I like my recipes.  This is the first time I've ever made it in my life and it turned out pretty good.  This made two generous servings.

Ingredients:

1 medium sized eggplant

1 1/2  cups spaghetti sauce

1 1/2 cups gluten free Panko crumbs (or other bread crumbs)

2 eggs, beaten

1/2 cup tapioca flour (any other gluten free flour will work)

fresh mozzarella, sliced

1/2 cup grated peccorino romano or parmesan cheese

olive oil

salt and pepper

Slice the eggplant into about 1/2 inch rounds.  Sprinkle each slice with salt and let sit in a colander for about 30 minutes.  The eggplant will ooze quite a bit of liquid, so make sure to place your colander in a bowl or the sink to avoid a mess.  While the eggplant is draining, prepare the rest of your ingredients.

Heat the spaghetti sauce.  I already had some spaghetti sauce that I made from my tomatoes and had frozen, but you can use your favorite spaghetti sauce, homemade or jarred.

I was excited to find these great gluten free Panko crumbs by Ian's at Drug Emporium.

Put your panko or bread crumbs in a shallow dish or plate and season with salt and pepper.  Crack your eggs into a bowl and beat them good.  Put the flour in another shallow dish.

Put olive oil in a large pan, about 1/4 inch or so deep and get it good and hot (panko crumbs should sizzle when you drop a few in the oil)

When the eggplant is ready, dredge each slice in the flour, shake off excess, then dip in egg, then coat with panko/bread crumbs.  Cook the prepared eggplant slices in oil until golden (about 2-3 minutes on each side).

When they are done, place on paper towel to soak up excess oil, then quickly, while they are still hot,  transfer to a plate and place a slice of mozzarella (so it will melt) on each slice.  Layer 3-4 slices on the plate, alternating eggplant and cheese.  Pour a generous amount of spaghetti sauce over slices and top with peccorino or parmesan.

This really was so easy.  It goes together very quickly once you start cooking, so be sure you have everything else ready, the table set, and your husband in from the field before you start cooking the eggplant slices, so that you can put it straight on the table and eat it hot.  

A Walk On the Culinary Wild Side

 With smut.. corn smut, that is, huitlacoche (weet-la-ko-chee).  The first time I found this on my corn a few years ago, I was completely freaked out.  Not now.  Now I'm a seasoned smut grower.

Oh no you didn't!  Oh yes, I did.  I ate it.  And so did Tom.

This is some seriously gnarly looking stuff.  Whoever was the first person to eat this must have been on peyote, or starving or...something.  I mean...just imagine you're walking along picking your corn and you come across this freakish ear.  Would your first thought be, "Hey, I bet this would taste good."?

Oh well, now that I've done a google search and discovered it's actually a delicacy and people pay good money for it, I decided to not let it go to waste.  When I discovered it on some of my ears of corn yesterday, I did a quick google search for some recipes.  I decided on a huitlacoche soup because I had all of the ingredients.  And, here they are:

2Tbs. extra virgin olive oil

1 cup chopped onion

3 cloves garlic, sliced

1-2 jalapeño peppers, seeded and minced*

1 cup fresh huitlacoche

2 Tbs. minced fresh cilantro (more if you like it, like I do)

5 cups chicken stock or bullion

1 cup cream

1 tsp. freshly ground black pepper

Salt to taste (if you're using bullion, you won't need salt)

In a large pot, heat olive oil and sauté the onion until golden.  Add the garlic and peppers and sauté one minute more.  Add the huitlacoche and minced cilantro.  Add the stock or bullion, bring to a simmer and cook, uncovered, about 10 minutes.

Simmering ingredients.

Puree in two batches in a blender or food processor.  Add the milk or cream and pepper and salt, if using.

Serve hot, sprinkled with cilantro, if desired.

Oh, so tasty!

It tastes similar to cream of mushroom soup, which I have loved all my life.

I served it with some regular corn and our first cantaloupe, both from our garden.

*Note to self:  Use some of the jalapeño seeds to make it a little spicier next time.

Depending on the stage of development of your smut, your soup can be a light grey (like mine is) or black.  So, don't be alarmed if you try this recipe and your soup comes out black.

First Monday Flea Market

Ever since I moved out here to East Texas, I've been planning to write about the First Monday Flea Market.  It is a big deal around here.  First Monday Trade Days in Canton, Texas is the oldest, largest continually operating flea market in the United States.  Although, it's called "First Monday", the activity surrounding the market last the whole week, two weeks if you count the clean-up afterwards.  Vendors begin arriving and setting up their booths on the Saturday and Sunday a week before the first Monday of the month.  We are always reminded of that time of month when we see a whole bunch of RV's driving down the highway.  By Wednesday, there usually are enough vendors set up to make it worthwhile to make a trip to the market.  But it really doesn't reach full capacity until Friday.  My favorite time to go is on Thursday or Friday mornings before the biggest crowds have arrived.

I've only gotten around to posting about it now because I actually remembered to take my camera with me today.

There is a lot of walking when I go to the flea market.  I like to be hands free and unencumbered.  To prepare, I wear cargo shorts or pants (insulated coveralls in the winter) with several pockets.  I stash cash, credit card, driver's license, lip gloss, my phone, and a kleenex in my pockets.  I put my ear bud in my ear in case I get a phone call while shopping.  Leave your purse at home, ladies, because it will feel like you're carrying a load of bricks by the end of the day.  I have a basket on wheels that I take with me if I anticipate buying something I might not be able to carry back to the car.  But, I don't like dragging that around either.  Not having the basket probably saves me from buying too much because when I see something I think I must have, I think about lugging it around for the rest of the day and I change my mind.

This morning was a very unusual first day of August in Texas.  By noon, it still hadn't gotten above 71 degrees.  That made for a very pleasant morning of treasure hunting.

There are lots of places to park.  Most of them charge five bucks.  I suspect that regulars have favorite places to park.  I know I do.

Mine involves driving over this creepy little bridge that might cave in some day.  Only one car at a time can cross.

My favorite parking gets me right up close to my favorite part of the market - the real flea market with all kinds of neat junk and vintage stuff.  Some of the areas are covered with open air pavilions, some areas are completely closed with A/C (comfortable to shop in, but the vendors pay a higher price for their booth and the shoppers pay a higher price for their wares).  Most of the pavilions house vendors that sell crafty stuff and cheap clothes.

You can find just about anything at the market.

Fire hydrant, anyone?

How about a traffic light?

Clocks.

Iron cookware.

Every kind of vintage cookie jar imaginable.

This is cool.  If I had an enclosed garden, this is what I'd want at the entry.

Maybe it's from a New York subway?

How about a brass doorknob?

Or a metal minion for your yard art?

There are creeks that run through the vast market areas.  This is one of the walkways.

It's always nice and shady in this area.

I guess the creek has to go somewhere.  And, food abounds.  Most of it is like the food at a fair or carnival...corn dogs, popcorn, nachos, lemonade.  But, there are some places with more choices.  There are even a couple of places with fancy Starbuckish coffee drinks.

With all the motorized carts, you'd think it was the land of the disabled.  But, no, just the land of the lazy.  For me, going to the market is an opportunity to walk off my breakfast calories and then some (so I can have something fattening to eat later in the day), or just to get some needed excercise.  Apparently, that is not an important issue for a lot of people.

Here's one of the parking lots.  And, this wasn't one of their busiest times.

These two fabulous 40's mini pendant chandeliers where my purchase for the day.  I have a plan A and a plan B for them.  Aren't they great!?

The vendor packed them up in this box for me. As I headed back to the car with it, I got a couple of odd comments about partying from a couple of snaggle-toothed, pot-bellied, rednecks that I didn't understand until I finally looked at the box.