Fig Preserves

This really isn't an official recipe as I never measure anything, I just add sugar until it "looks right."  Thanks to pictures and the internet, I can show you what that looks like.

Our fig tree is very happy this year and even sharing with the Scarlet Tanager we pick a huge bowl full every day.  My friend Janie has a tree in her yard that is producing and she wants to try to make some for her husband - hence this blog.  But trust me, there is little simpler than making a pot of fig preserves.

Figs do not keep long so put them in the refrigerator overnight if you want to wait a day to cook them.  We have so many I am cooking every day, usually the ones from yesterday while a new batch we picked this morning cools overnight.

I start off dumping the bowl in my island sink and covering with cool water.  I pick up a handful at a time to drain next to the cutting board. I cut off the stems and then cut each one in half.  When the pot is 1/3 full  I cover that batch with sugar and cut some more.  I do another third and cover with more sugar. These don't boil up as bad as strawberries and some other fruits so I will fill the pot 3/4 full.  Note: if I have them, I will occasionally add a few diced strawberries.

After the last third is covered, I juice one lemon and put the juice and the rind in (filter out the seeds). Add a pinch of kosher/sea salt and you are ready to cook.

Turn the stove on low until you get the pot all stirred and the sugar starts to liquefy.  It will start off thick and hard to stir.

Then turn the flame up to a med/high until the figs start to boil and foam. At this point the mix will seem real soupy and you think you have added too much sugar...but that is just right. Stir it, turn the flame down to a low/med and cook for 2-3 hours until the juice cooks down and the fruit is mushy.

When the figs are done they will look like the picture below. Note how far they cooked down in the pan.  They are still very moist (but not soupy) and kind of leathery/mushy.  My mom like them in large pieces just like this but I take a hand blender and chop up the fruit a little while it is still in the pan.

I then put them in plastic screw top jars and freeze.  These are the preserves we serve at breakfast!

 
If you want to can your figs you will need to process the jars in a water bath for 20 minutes.  You can find lots of good sites on the internet for canning fruit.

Are you cut out to be an innkeeper?

People always tell me I must really be a "people person" to run a B&B.  I think that must be true for most any job that deals with the public. But opening your home to people on an ongoing basis, cooking and cleaning up after guests day in and day out requires a more precise set of skills.


More than anything, a well suited innkeeper must be a homebody. It is a career choice that will keep you reined in most days and nights. This was great for me as I used to plan out my weeks in my former life by running all the errands on one day so I could stay home the other six to clean, cook, garden and just piddle around. My idea of heaven would be to find someone who could be trusted to do all my shopping for me (including clothes...especially clothes!) Since Mike now does most of the grocery shopping and I can buy most everything else on-line, I am half way there.


It helps if you are good at putting people at ease, making them feel welcome in your home and creating a comfortable environment. I knew I was good at this as our house was where all the kids like to come hang out and where my friends loved to come to relax.

You need to be tolerant.  Tolerant of others habits, religion, politics, privacy needs, food issues and questions. If you grew up in a very large dysfunctional family you have been well trained for the life of an innkeeper.

People will ask you every day why you wanted to do this.  On good days I tell the whole story of how the inn came to be and on bad days I say I won it in a poker game.

You will use the older sheets, the older towels, the half used soap and toilet paper for yourself.  Your meals and naps will be interupted on a regular basis by check-ins, phone calls for reservations and guests who need help with everything from directions, reservations or information on how to work the DVD player.

Adaptability and a great live-in handyman are a must. If it is going to break, quit working or start smelling, it will do it when you have a full house. You need to be able to roll with the punches with a big old smile on your face and do the best you can to keep folks comfortable.  If all else fails, you may have to get them a room at the nearest place down the road.

The payoff for me comes in many forms. It can be as simple as the call, "We're home" from guests coming in the front door.  Or, people telling you they were wondering what the cookies would be today as they were driving in. It can be an admission that someone opens our web site when they are having a stressfull day because it helps them relax. I love it when the house starts off on Friday with a bunch of strangers and ends on Suday morning with lots of friends exchanging email addresses and business cards.

But my absolutely favorite story happened a few years after we had been open.  I was in the Common Room visiting with several guests and one of them noticed someone had left their shoes in the entry hall.  She asked me if it didn't bother me having people leaving their stuff all around. No, I said, to the contrary.  I love it when that happens as it lets me know that people really feel at home. 

I'm not sure who overheard or how the word was passed around, but the next morning when I came out to turn on the lights there were 16 pair of shoes all lined up around the entry hall.  To me it was like a standing ovation.

Strawberry Stuffed French Toast

A favorite here at the B&B is this wonderful, and easy, French toast breakfast.  The key is to prepare the first step the night before so the bread and cheese have a chance to meld together.

1 loaf French bread

8 oz cream cheese at room temp

3 Tbls butter at room temp

2 Tbls strawberry jam

9 eggs

1 1/2 cups milk

1 tsp sugar

1 tsp vanilla

The night before:

Cream the butter, jam and cream cheese together. Slice the French bread length-wise like you are making a sub sandwich.

Flatten out the bread and spread on the cream cheese mix.

Fold the bread back together, place back in the store wrapper, and refrigerate overnight.

In the morning:

Mix together the milk, eggs, sugar and vanilla and place equal amounts in two 9x11 casserole dishes (or any shallow dish with a lip). 

  
Slice the loaf in 1/4 to 1/2 pieces and soak in mix (both sides). Depending on the size of loaf and size of slice, this will feed 6-8 people with two slices per person.

Grill in a slight amount butter/oil until brown on both sides.

We serve a couple of pieces on the plate topped with a spoon of strawberry syrup, a spoon of fresh diced strawberries and a sprinkle of powdered sugar. 

Killer Deviled Eggs

The real name of this recipe is Curried Deviled Eggs but I wanted all of you afraid of  the word "curry" to give me a chance before discounting.  There is a spicy sweetness to curry powder that brings out the best in a deviled egg. Next time you make this or any recipe, put a pinch in the yolk mix.  I bet you put two pinches in the next time!

Note: Curry Powder is a blend of spices and the recipes for the blend are as varied and contested as the best recipe for Potato Salad in the South!  If you find you like using the store bought variety, check out the Internet for other blends to try.  Mom used to make up her own which is much better (but I have lost her recipe!)

6 hard boiled eggs (see previous blog on egg salad for great egg boiling technique) peeled, cut in half and yolks removed.

Blend with yolk:

2-3 Tbsp of mayo

1-2 tsp Wickles pickle relish (or any sweet relish)

1/4 tsp curry powder

pinch of salt

I don't ever measure out my recipe.  I just add stuff until it is creamy and spicy enough for my taste.

If you want to take these on a picnic, place the egg whites in a plastic container and spoon your yolk mix into a zip-lock baggie.  When you get to where you are going, snip off a small corner of the baggie and squeeze. It is an easy way to fill the eggs and you don't have to worry about messing them up in transport.

(One of) My Most Embarrassing Moments

In the movie "As Good As It Gets," the character played by Jack Nicholson  is informed that one of his finer qualities is his willingness to humiliate himself.  I can really identify with that sentiment.  Over the years, as hard as I have tried to perfect my role as a gracious and hospitable innkeeper, that pesky quality occasionally escapes to the forefront. Those moments tend to make for great stories and some of you have heard me tell this one before.  It is still my favorite embarrassing moment.

One weekend we had a full house of folks that came as strangers but were now clicking.  It happens occasionally and always makes for a fun time.  The decision was made to gather in the Common Room and watch a movie.  Since no one had ever seen one of our favorite comedies (and a great parody of the old singing cowboy movies), Rustler's Rhapsody, we chose that as a "must see."

Early on in the movie, there is a scene in the saloon where a stranger walks up to the town drunk at the bar and, cigar in hand, asks for a light.  The drunk looks up, smiles and says, "Yeah, my face and your butt."  The stranger looks perplexed and then walks off.  After a moment, the drunk talking out loud to himself says, "Wait a minute...its not a light. Its a match. And it not my face...but your face...and my butt."

Fast forward thirty minutes and I have to come to the office to answer the phone. Just as I am about to re-join the group, one of the guests walks up to the desk and asks if I have a match.  I laugh and say, "Yeah, your face and my butt."

I just get silence and a perplexed look.

I shake my head and ask, "You aren't in there watching the movie, are you?"

Nope.  He just came down looking for matches to light the candles in his room. 

He was a good sport and laughed at my explanation.  I'm just not sure he ever came back.

Utillizing Fine Linens as Decor

I have acquired myriad hand embroidered linens over the years, some from family and friends and some from estate sales in anticipation of opening the B&B. Many come out for special occasions like Christmas and Valentines.  Others were not utilized  because there was just one (or a few) or the handwork was too precious to use.

One of my favorites is this beautiful tablecloth with these perfect roses and buds.  It was given to us by a guest and was sewn by a great-great somebody back when this kind of embroidery was more common place. I wanted people to see it but not be tempted to put coffee cups or wine glasses on it.  Solution?  Hang it on the wall.

Other pieces that are a little sturdier have made it onto table surfaces in the rooms.  I love these sweet little cocktail napkins that are the perfect accent for the pink & blue in Mimi's Room.

 

 

My grandmother's handkerchief sits underneath her picture and rouge box in Nana's Room.

Made for my mother's 65th surprise party, this tablecloth is the perfect accent for the blue & yellow colors in Hattie.

This "Pineapple" tablecloth, crocheted by my grandmother, hangs over the bed in Janie Lee's room.

I have other pieces that were framed (and difficult to photograph). If you haven't heard the story, the embroidery of the lady on the wall in Nana's Room was originally an apron. It was stitched by a friend that was coming to America after WWII to marry an airman she met in Australia.  She worked on it the whole time she was sailing here and presented it to her future mother-in-law on arrival to the states. Fortunately, the mother-in-law took one look at it and proclaimed it too beautiful to use and promptly had it framed.

I hope this post inspires you to bring out those treasures and enjoy them.  They like being admired and enjoy the light of day!

The life of an Arkansas Innkeeper

At the end of the novel, “The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Universe,” the author states that if anyone ever figures out what life is all about it will instantly change into something even more bizarre.  I am pretty sure my life proves that theory.  And I sure wish you deep thinkers out there would knock it off!

Some of it may have to do with the place I live.  It's a place that lets school out for a week every November so the kids can go hunting, (some for deer & turkey, and some for road signs & mailboxes.)  A place where the churches put out signs that say “Camouflage Welcome.”   A place where a store sells only fishing bait and donuts (and good ones at that.)  A place where you can reserve tanning bed time , then rent some movies on your way out.  A place where you can rent a tuxedo and a ditch-witch at the same store. A place where, when you forget your purse at the gas station or hamburger stand, they tell you to just bring the money by the next time you are there.  A far cry from life in the big city I had escaped.

It is no wonder I take folks out into the yard to go Toad Scratchin’.

Well, it didn't really start out that way.

Some time back I noticed a toad that came out of his hole to watch me

when I was working close by.  Maybe he is the Neighborhood Watch

Captain, who knows.  After spotting him a couple of times, I decided to

“remodel” his place by adding a slate roof and patio. A few months

later, one of the guests noticed this and asked me about it in front of

some other folks.  When I explained what it was, they all wanted to go

take a look at it. It had started to mist outside so we all grabbed

umbrellas and headed down the hill to Mr. Toad's house.  When he didn't

make an appearance right away, I explained that my leaf raking was what

probably got him curious in the past so maybe we should scratch around

some with our feet to make a similar noise.

So here we stood, a half dozen of us, in the rain, holding umbrellas, looking down at the ground and pawing around with our feet.  And no toad in sight.   Finally, one of the guys looked at me with a wry expression and stated more than asked, “There really isn't a toad, is there.”

There is a town close by named Toad Suck and they have a weekend event

every year called “Toad Suck Daze.” I wonder if we could have a Toad

Scratch Festival?

You also learn a lot of weird stuff being an innkeeper.  I've new insights into everything from embalming to carp fishing. I can now identify Huckleberry bushes and Pygmy Rattlesnakes from ten paces. I know that a glass eye isn't round from seeing one up close and out of the socket. I have recently learned that if you shove some white bread into a copper pipe, it will keep the water from running out while you “sweat it” ,  but then it will  wash out when you are done.  Also, talcum powder in conduit will make feeding the wires through easier.  I know it takes a dead mouse about two days to start smelling inside the house but have yet to ascertain how long it takes a lizard in the duct work.  I just know it takes weeks for it to go away.

I have quit making notes of all the small world stories.  They happen all the time now and I have come to expect them. Everybody knows everybody.  They just don't know it yet!

And people can still surprise me.  One of the dogs was sleeping on the front porch when this elderly, very prim and proper woman was coming up the walk.  Everything about her said she was a quiet and dignified “lady.”  When she got to the top steps, the dog rolled over and stuck all four legs in the air, ready for a good belly rub.  The woman laughed, scratched the dog's stomach and muttered, “Well, aren't you just a little slut puppy!”

I was also tickled by the story about the old man across the road that

was fed up with coyotes getting into his stuff.  He set a trap and finally caught it.  He went down with his rifle to shoot it.  But when he approached the cage,  the coyote rolled over on his back and looked pitiful, so the man let him go.

Maybe showing your belly can bring out the true nature in people.

I am pretty sure I have finally found a life that suits me.  It is just

predictable enough for my Virgo nature to find a comfortable groove and

just weird enough to keep me on my toes.  I have learned to live in the

moment... mainly because there is seldom time to think about tomorrow or yesterday. And, if I keep reminding people how “Zen” I have become, maybe they won't notice that I have actually slipped into senility.