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Recipe: huckleberry ice cream

Last summer, my friend and expert wild foods forager, Wendy, introduced me to foraging. It was the inevitable marriage of two of my loves: the backcountry and food. Make that THREE of my loves: the backcountry, food, and plants. I’m a little bit of a plant geek, although nothing close to Wendy’s level of knowledge and geekdom. Truth be told, eating the food is probably the least favorite aspect of foraging for me. I really love the outdoors, the thrill of the hunt (I tell Wendy that I think porcini hunting would be far more exciting if the mushrooms could run… and scream), and learning the native plants. Familiarity with the plants and their various medicinal or culinary uses makes me cherish these mountains even more than I already do.

So when Wendy told me she was going to show me huckleberries last summer, she said, “You’re gonna kick yourself when you realize what they are.” And she was correct. The plant is a low-growing ground cover over a good portion of our mountains. It is EVERYWHERE and I’ve always admired it as a pretty understory on the forested slopes. It’s been there this whole time and I never knew they were huckleberry plants! The plants seem to thrive above 9000 feet, but peter out near treeline (somewhere around 10,800 or 11,000 feet). The berries are small here in the Rockies and quite well hidden, especially if you don’t know to look for them.

huckleberry plant

the berries are underneath

Of course, as with all things, please don’t go randomly picking berries that you aren’t familiar with and popping them into your mouth. That’s just bad form… and it’s dumb. The first time I tasted a fresh huckleberry, I was blown away by the intensity of it. Huckleberries have the perfect balance of tartness, sweetness, and a big flavor for such a tiny berry. Wendy described it perfectly, “Huckleberries are what blueberries aspire to be.” It’s so true. I had a hunch that the huckleberries were nearing peak a few weeks ago, but I was so busy with out-of-town visitors and work that I didn’t get out to pick any until last week. Most of the patches were bare, but a few choice locations had some dark purple berries. I managed half of what I needed for a batch of ice cream. My fear was that I would have to augment the huckleberries with store-bought blueberries and wind up with bluckleberry ice cream. I tried another trail the following morning and was able to squeak out enough for the recipe. These were a little less ripe, but still so full of flavor that some sugar would brighten them up easily enough.

my end-of-season haul

make a compote: huckleberries, water, lemon, sugar

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Recipe: green tea crème brûlée

I was feeling quite low Saturday morning. Kaweah’s moderate improvement went down the tubes. She barely moved, cried in pain anytime we tried to help her get up, and looked so depressed. It was completely unlike her, our normally happy little girl. Kaweah has a fairly high threshold for pain and we were both very concerned. Jeremy and I would stroke her belly to comfort her and look at one another wondering if this was it. We called our vet as soon as he got into the office and he added some more pain killers to the regimen of muscle relaxers and anti-inflammatory drugs. Within an hour of taking her meds, she was back to her old self – wandering around the house, wagging her tail, holding her head high, happy.

A college friend of mine had mentioned that he has traction socks for his dog on their hardwood floors. So I went to the store and picked up the only similar thing in stock. They’re little rubber booties. I wasn’t sure they would work, but I was willing to try anything.

pawz

They don’t bother Kaweah like her old hiking booties did (the ones she wore once, in the house and then never again). I think that’s partly because she has lost a lot of feeling in her hind paws. They do offer her incredible traction on our floors and she’s been walking around like a champ these past two days. Of course, we had to modify the booties – a clip at the tops so as not to cut off circulation in her ankles, and several holes on the tops and bottoms because her feet were getting hot and sweaty.

she’s hasn’t been this mobile in over a year

they’re like a doggie version of crocs

The combination of the non-slip booties and pain meds has turned Kaweah into a younger version of herself. We can’t get over how happy she is padding about the house asking to be let out on the deck, asking to be let back in (and so on and so forth). When she walks, the little rubber booties sound like clown shoes squeaking on the floors. As I look to see where my little clown is, I usually catch her tail wagging high in the air as she squeak-squeak-squeaks around the corner looking for wayward treats.

Kaweah’s recovery was just in time because my parents and my aunt (who is visiting my folks) came up to our house for dinner Saturday evening.

mom and her sister

one of five courses: butter-sautéed chanterelles in cream, white wine, and garlic with bacon on pappardelle

I wanted it to be a special dinner since it was my aunt’s first visit to our house and probably the last time I’ll host my parents this summer before they head home to Virginia. As most of my friends know, I serve multiple desserts to dinner guests. I love variety and I want guests to feel like they have a choice… or a sampler! Knowing that my dad is rather fond of crème brûlée, I went for a slightly Asian version: green tea crème brûlée.

matcha green tea powder, eggs (yolks), pinch of salt, sugar, vanilla, cream

add sugar to the yolks

and the matcha powder

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Recipe: marinated mushrooms

Another weekend, another set of visitors – both have come and gone. Jeremy’s folks were out to see our new digs and explore the town. I swear Crested Butte is Colorado’s best kept secret. Right now, I’m waiting for the moon to set and hoping that our clear skies hold enough for me to catch some Perseids tonight. It’s been lovely here this past week with plenty of rain, storms, and sunshine. Cooler weather is in the air. I can smell autumn coming and I swear it makes my heart race in anticipation. The mountains are getting ready.

late season bloomers: fireweed

a busy bee, gathering nectar and pollen

alpine lake destination

Clearing afternoon storms always present the opportunity for nice color after sunset. When I have a moment, I step outside and observe how the light bounces around between the atmosphere and the mountains in the hour after the sun drops behind our local divide. It takes a little time to get to know the patterns, but I’m trying to become familiar with them. Most of the time it’s been what I call a fizzle, but the other day was delightfully colorful.

last orange rays graze the mountainside

crepuscular rays and glowing wisps of clouds over paradise divide

The rains have also been good for mushrooms. When Jeremy and I hike, I really try to keep my pace up and not revert to mushroom search mode. But if I happen to spot a mushroom of interest, I’ll stop for a photo because I like documenting what I find, where, when, and the conditions. The great thing is that Jeremy and I love to geek out on plants, fungi, critters, bugs, geology, and weather. I love the fungi almost as much as I love my fun guy.

false chanterelle (it’s a bit early yet for the real deal)

hawk’s wings are so pretty (my size 9 foot for scale)

We did find some porcini, but none that I wanted to harvest since they were a little wormed out. I always leave those in place and give the big ones a pat on the cap in the hopes of shaking out some more spores for next year’s porcini. Obviously, I’ve had mushrooms on the brain since summer began. I blame Wendy because she has porcini fever starting in like… March. But I was craving the marinated kind, something you can make with store-bought button or crimini mushrooms.

fresh crimini mushrooms, parsley, oregano, olive oil, vinegar, red onion, salt, garlic, black peppercorns, coriander seeds

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