Behold, a fruit fly trap that really works and doesn’t require a mechanical engineering degree.
With my countertops buckling under the weight of ripe produce, the fruit flies have taken noticed and returned in a flurry. Ah but I have a secret weapon, a fruit fly trap that works, one that I fashioned while adhering to two of my favorite farm practices: use what’s on hand, and make it yourself.
There are a bazillion DIY fruit fly trap instructions on the interWebs, but I’ve never found one that worked very well. Some required a scientific advisory board, NASA materials, and exotic baits, but the DIY Tall Clover Fruit Fly Trap is as simple as it is effective. And I bet dollars to doughnuts, you have the materials and skills to successfully pull this little how-to off .
So simple, yet so effective
How to Make a Better Fruit Fly Trap
Materials:
shallow bowl
fresh fruit bits, scraps like apple cores, peach pits, onion peels, tomatoes
plastic or cling wrap
toothpick
Instructions:
In a shallow bowl, add a few fruit scraps, stone fruit pits, and/or veggies
Cover bowl tightly with plastic wrap.
Using a toothpick, make 2-3 holes in the middle of the plastic cover, each about the size of a grain of rice.
Place bowl on counter where fruit flies will enter the ‘dining hall’ by following the scent, but will not be able to escape. (Insert diabolical laugh and hand wringing.)
Empty bowl when full, rinse and repeat.
Observation:
Fresh fruit works better than vinegar in attracting fruit flies
Plum buckle: a delicious marriage of cake and fruit
Picking plums is its own reward. The trees are small, the fruit easily reached and sampling opportunities rampant. In addition to fresh eating, plums plate up in the kitchen as a versatile fruit, perfect for baking, canning, jamming or just about any culinary road you wish to lead them down. As an avid baker, I love to make plum buckle, a buttery cake bolstered with ground almonds and topped with plums that bake into the batter like stained glass rondels.
While plum buckle is deceptively easy to make, the cake serves up as something special, a real showstopper. Good looks draw the diner in, but the flavor, texture, crumb and fruity goodness make plum buckle a dessert you’ll make again and again.
So in a world of grunts, slumps, cobblers and crisps, just what is a buckle? A buckle is basically a stiff cake batter that you top with fruit and dust with sugar.
As the buckle bakes, the fruit softens and sinks into the batter.
As the name implies, the cake buckles under the weight of the plums and the top of the cake is crowned with gooey fruit goodness.
Butter spring form pan (any size, smaller for thicker cake, larger for thinner) dust with flour. Add parchment paper or wax paper to the bottom of the pan.
Step 3
Grind almonds in food processor until coarse meal. Add to flour, baking powder and salt.
Step 4
In mixer, beat butter and sugar until smooth. Add eggs, blend further. Add vanilla and almond extract.
Step 5
Add flour mixture slowly to batter.
Step 6
Batter will be stiff. Transfer to cake pan and smooth out with spatula.
Step 7
Top cake with plum halves placed side by side.
Step 8
Mix cinnamon and 3 Teaspoons of sugar and spoon over plums.
Step 9
Bake for 50-60 minutes, or until toothpick is inserted and comes out clean.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height of juicy fruit and tender crust. I love thee to the level of everyday’s most delicious bite by morning sun or candlelight. I love thee freely, as my senses delight; I love thee purely, as sun-born fruit upon my plate, I love thee with passion as the best thing I ever ate. In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s eye, I love thee with a love only reserved for superior pie. With my lost saints, I love thee with my last breath, Smiles, tears, pursuit of peach pie, my righteous path.
My Favorite Peach Pie Recipe
Let me share my favorite peach pie recipe so you too, can wax poetically (or not so poetically) over the virtues of delectable peaches crowned in crust.
Sweet peaches waiting to be tucked in with a top crust
Countdown to bake-off!
Counter intelligence: letting the pie cool before eating.
Adapted from a recipe originally published as Peach Pie in Country Woman July/August 2005.
Directions
Step 1
Cut peaches in chunks, not thin slices. I quarter mine and leave the skins on, then cut each quarter into thirds.
Step 2
Place peaches in a bowl, add sugars and let macerate until juice appears.
Step 3
In a cold saucepan, add other dry ingredients: cornstarch, nutmeg, cinnamon, salt and whisk in strained peach juice (from step 2) until fully incorporated. Place on low heat and stir until thickens, 1-2 minutes
Step 4
Remove from heat, stir in lime juice and butter until fully incorporated and smooth.
Step 5
Pour cornstarch mixture over peaches. Stir gently and well.
Step 6
Add peaches to chilled pie dough in pie plate. Add lattice top or double crust top with air vents.
Step 7
Optional: whisk an egg with one tablespoon of water and lightly brush on unbaked top crust and sprinkle with sugar before baking. This adds a nice sweet crunch and golden brown top to the crust.
Step 8
Bake at 400 for 50-60 or until filling bubbles. Let cool for an hour to set fruit filling for better slicing
Early mornings reveal a waning moon, a sleepy sunrise, and the perfect porch to start a day on.
Mount Rainier sneaks a peek (and a peak) at Quartermaster Harbor in Burton on Vashon Island.
My day starts early and my day ends late, and somehow the in-between takes mere seconds to evaporate. With a run of sunny days (there’s an anomaly), outdoor chores and play-date detours, I find my posts have been few and far between, and even now, this post will be more about pretty pics than Tom’s questionable insight and ramblings. So take a coffee break with me and sit back and enjoy a few snapshots of what summer (in my humble opinion) should be: wonderful.
Boz: “Tom who?”
Boz is quite the ladies man, backing up and waiting for a belly, muzzle, and/or rump rub, albeit Ture’s gentle shoulder pat will keep him happy for as long as she wishes to indulge him.
Can you bake a cherry pie, Tommy boy, Tommy boy? Oh heck yeah, and this crust-covered fruit geode glistens with my first crop of Montmorency cherries. Even better, I celebrated and shared the moment and the pie with my visiting family.
Boz takes time to stop and smell the roses (and in this case, as his pollen-painted neck would suggest) and the lilies as well.
My sister-in-law and brother channel their inner pioneer couple at the Vashon Heritage Museum.
My brother and Boz share some quality time on the hammock, while mom and sis check out the old glider.
Mom and sis: Two of the prettiest and hardest working farmhands a man could dream to be related to.
Dinner is served…on the porch, of course.
Early summer when the grass is green, and the garden weed-free.
Summer has been berry, berry good to me. Here’s to an entire month of summer days remaining!
The most popular post on my blog (based on number of comments and views) is The Best Way to Ripen Peaches. I wrote it because I felt few folks understood how wonderfully peaches ripen off the tree and on their own if treated with a modicum of respect and patience. I think of ripening an avocado and peach very much in the same way: buy them firm and let them do their thing in their own time.
Best Way to Ripen Peaches: The Backstory
So how did I come up with my linen towel technique? Years ago I bought a case of peaches to can and make jam with. The box, chockablock with three layers of peaches, was too big for my dinky refrigerator. I decided to remove the peaches from the box, space them out to ripen on my kitchen window seat, which I lined with linen napkins. To thwart fruit flies, I covered the peaches with a single layer of linen napkins. Each day I’d check for bruised or damaged fruit and dispatch the injured into the blender for a quick trip to smoothie town. By week’s end, I noticed the peaches were sweet and juicy and very flavorful, ripening slowly and deliciously without interference from me. The peaches rested out of direct sun on my shaded window seat seven to ten days, never spoiling, at least the ones not rough-handled during picking, packing or shipping.
Forget the jam; I ended up eating the entire case of peaches, reasoning nothing so sweet and juicy should be dropped into a hot water bath. Maybe lesser fruit, but not these room-ripened gems. I’ve been ripening peaches this way ever since.
′Macaroon…schmack-a-roon, give me a graham cracker and butter cream frosting any day.
One Great Cookie: Graham Cracker and Frosting
When my mother made a birthday cake, she took it seriously (as did her kids). Layered and lovely, the cake bedecked and bedazzled a cake plate in a fashion worthy of celebrating someone’s arrival into the world. Her Rococo scrolls, fanciful flowers and cursive loops of frosting in baby blue, egg-yolk yellow and spring green would have made a Faberge′ egg jealous.
In the fridge, buried behind the milk carton and orange juice jug, hid the collateral cake treasure: extra butter cream frosting. The small tub held a confectioner’s rainbow of frosting blobs —blobs of color mushed, squished, and spread to fit in the container and still allow for the important Tupperware burp. The stash was destined to grace the perforated wafers of the Graham Cracker, a sandwich cookie like no other. The year was 1964 and from that day on madeleines, macaroons and moonpies took a back seat to this homemade cookie hybrid.
A Frosting Worthy of Cake and Cookie
Cream cheese, butter cream frosting is about as good as it gets. (Nine out of ten graham crackers agree.) This dreamy, frosting is my favorite (for now) and one that adorns most of my layer cakes (and some of my waistline).
Here’s the mother ship, a coconut cake destined for an island celebration. With a generous tub of icing left, it’s a little easier to let go of the cake. Graham crackers are standing by for any drop-ins or cookie emergencies.
Biscuits, biscuits, biscuits. Frontier food, nothing fancy, nothing fussy, as American as apple pie, this quick-bread staple of chuck wagons, truck stops and campsites everywhere is a magic mix of flour, milk, butter and leavening that is too delicious and too easy not to make. Yep, these crusty little pillows of doughy goodness should be in everyone’s baking repertoire. Heck, add more sugar and you’ve got shortcakes for your berries. What’s not to like.
Here’s the basic biscuit recipe I adapted from The Fannie Farmer Cookbook. If you can’t trust Fannie (and a baked-good lovin’ guy) to bring you a respectable biscuit recipe, who can you trust? So out with the lard and in with the butter, here’s the recipe that keeps me happy for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Some of my favorite desserts are the least fussy. Who would argue that a bowl of berries and cream is not the perfect topper for a perfect summer day? (No one in this house, anyway.) Now if I want to ratchet up the featured berries, to gob-smacking awesome, I simply add pastry to the mix.
Last February, while enjoying a ridiculously enjoyable day in a Darigold demonstration kitchen, I received a folder of recipes from pastry chef Pierre Fauvet. As I spied the first recipe, fresh raspberry tart, the clouds parted, angels sang, rainbows appeared, and winged unicorns performed a fly-by. (Hyperbole? I think not.) Plump, huge, ruby red, perfumed and delicious, Raspberries are the jewels in the fruit crown of what I grow. I will showcase them in any way worthy of their hold on me.
Pierre’s recipe called for pastry cream, but I was impatient yesterday, so I opted for a simpler option found in Darigold’s FRESH magazine, one with a sour cream, cream cheese, orange infused layer. It’s called a Sour Cream Raspberry Tart. The buttery pate sucree shell is all chef Fauvet’s, and one that pairs perfectly with this berry dairy dessert.
Pate Sucree is very forgiving, like a cookie dough Play-Doh.
2 Cups Raspberries (or berries or fruit of your choice)
Note
Adapted from recipe found in Darigold's FRESH magazine.
Directions
Step 1
Beat cream cheese until light and fluffy.
Step 2
Add all sour cream but only one spoonful at a time to prevent lumps and fully incorporate.
Step 3
Add sugar and orange zest.
Step 4
Place in air tight container and refrigerate for one hour.
Step 5
When ready to serve tart, spread sour cream filling over shortbread crust.
Step 6
Artfully arrange berries on top of sour cream filling.
Step 7
Optional: Heat a couple tablespoons of jelly or seedless jam to brush on berries for a dressed-up presentation. It looks nice If serving the tart over several days, I'd avoid this step as it softens the berries and crust.
Sis and Mom, berry pickers extraordinaire, adorned the tart with raspberries. I might have been wearing the pie had I taken their pictures after a day of working around the homestead. I told them they always look beautiful; but they begged to differ.
Mom puts the finishing touch on the sour cream raspberry tart while I grab some plates, forks and knifes. (Nice work ladies!)
So delicious no matter how you slice it (in my humble opinion).Mom and Sis, my pretty, albeit shy berry pickers, concur — thumbs-up delicious!
Last Friday, I attended an art opening at the Blue Heron Gallery on Vashon Island: Portraits of Elders – People Who Inspire. While I’m a big fan of one of the featured artists, Pam Ingalls, I’m equally devoted to three of the women she captured in portraiture. Nina, Phoebe and Karen have rock star status on the island, though they would likely be chagrined if not incredulous at such a claim. As it should be, anyone who knows one or any of these three muses is rightfully inspired by their lives, and by the magic, wit and vibrancy they bring to each moment.
Nina
How do I know these fine women? Lucky me, I happen to live across the street from Phoebe, and since they are all friends, I’ve managed to insinuate myself into their Friday tea time and on-the-kitchen-table art classes. Truth be told, I yammer, sip and munch, while they share insights, laughter and brush strokes. In my defense, I am a willing mascot and booster for this team and have finally learned restraint when dolloping up Phoebe’s jam and marmalade.
Karen
The art show left me pondering (good use of one’s hammock). If I may leave you with one thought, may it be this. We spend our lives shuffling about, making lists, running errands, pursuing careers and dreams, and we tend to forget (if I may speak broadly) that the silver-haired souls among us have been there, done that. The elder we may overlook or be oblivious to has a story, no doubt a rich tale of decades of living, loving, learning and celebrating. There’s a life behind those wrinkles. Who knows, maybe you’re in the presence of a fine potter, gifted storyteller or spirited singer. Perhaps this kind soul grew up in Africa next door to Karen Blixen, or raised her firstborn in a small cabin in Norway, or gained passage for her family on a tramp steamer to Italy. Could this gentle soul have bravely served her nation in World War II or danced in the streets of Florence and embraced music at every turn? These are neither random nor conjured speculations, but rather truths — the authentic bits and pieces of the full lives of the women found in these portraits and on this page. Sparkling eyes (no matter what the age or medium) never lie.
Phoebe the painted; and Phoebe the painter (sharing her watercolor of my house).
“Youth is a quality, not a matter of your circumstances.” –Frank Lloyd Wright.
PS – Here’s a movie recommendation, Strangers in Good Company, which I saw at the Seattle Film Festival in 1990. A beautiful film that shares the tales of real lives within the framework of a scripted movie. It may change the way you think about your elders.
This time of year my pantry shelves buckle under the weight of stacked empty jam jars. They glistened under the light of the single bulb on the ceiling, and call to me, “Tom, Tom, get a move-on; it’s time to make jam!” So what are my favorite jam recipes these days? Well, it’s all about what is fresh and in season. In May, I start with strawberry – rhubarb, and by October I finished up with late peaches. With canning season in full swing, let me share with you five of my favorite jam recipes. These are keepers in my cookbook of summer. (Click on the jam name to link to the recipe.)
My Five Favorite Jam Recipes
Apricot Alchemy Jam: no less than magic in a jar. Apricots are a fleeting summer fruit, so act quickly when they arrive at the fruit stand or market. This particular jam is a delicious blend of rich flavors—tart and sweet, and as bright as a summer day.
Strawberry – Rhubarb Jam: What I call the “Fred and Ginger” of fruit combinations. This classic jam is the real thing, a medley of early summer goodness, and the perfect pairing of berry and stalk. Of course, pick enough to make a pie, too.
Blueberry – Plum Jam: Summer by the lovin’ spoonful. This is a great jam recipe for the beginner, as plums and blueberries are high in pectin so they set easily, that is they thicken without much effort. The flavor combo is out of this world, too.
Fig and Ginger Jam: A sweet spicy preserve I first tasted in Australia…and have been making ever since. Here’s another jam that sets easily due to the high pectin in the fig, while offering little bits of chew in the spicy ginger.
