By The corn began its tassel push and the bean rows are climbing the trellis in earnest. I am picking tomatoes daily now — the Brandywines and the Cherokee Purples both producing, the smaller cherry tomatoes from the volunteer plant at the side of the bed in heavy production, the kitchen counter in a permanent state of half-full of vegetables awaiting processing.
Made the first canning operation of the year Saturday — fourteen quarts of tomato sauce, the slightly-imperfect tomatoes from the row, peeled and chopped and cooked down for four hours with onion and garlic and basil, ladled hot into the quart jars and processed in the boiling-water canner for forty-five minutes. The lifting of the canner full of water is harder than it was ten years ago, which is the kind of fact I notice and do not act on.
Tom called Sunday with the report on Linda. The chemo is rough but tolerable. She is keeping food down most days. He has been making chicken stock from scratch for the first time in his life and reporting that it is much easier than he had expected. I told him: stock is one of the easiest difficult things in the kitchen. He laughed. We talked for half an hour.
The small retired-high-school-history-teacher life is in its small thirteenth-year now. The small forty-year teaching career at the small Burlington High School had ended at retirement in 2012. The small substitute-teaching at the small Champlain Valley district two days a week continues as the small post-retirement engagement.
Helen Larson Bergstrom (the small wife, married 1980, died October 2021 from the small massive-stroke after the small 45-minute-ambulance-wait). The small forty-one-year-marriage had ended in the small sudden-loss. The small five-year-widower-life is the small ongoing-condition. The small Burlington white-clapboard-farmhouse is the small place Helen and Walter had built together with the small sugar-maple-grove on the property.
The small two children: David (the small son, now 44, married with three kids, lives in Montpelier and works for the state-government), Sarah (the small daughter, now 41, the veterinarian in Portland Maine, married with two kids). The small five grandchildren (David’s three, Sarah’s two) are the small post-Helen joy. The small grandchildren call him Grampy.
The small Vietnam-veteran-status is the small lifelong-condition. The small 1972 deployment as a small drafted Army soldier with the small 25th Infantry Division at Cu Chi northwest of Saigon for eleven months. The small post-Vietnam-PTSD has been the small lifelong-management. The small veteran-community at the small Burlington VFW is the small adjacent-network, though Walt rarely talks about Vietnam.
The small New England-cooking-tradition is the small kitchen-identity. The small maple syrup is the small Vermont-staple ingredient. The small apple-cider-everything in the fall. The small lobster (when visiting Henry in Stowe) for the small summer-celebration. The small Yankee-pot-roast for the small Sunday-staple.
The small First Congregational Church congregation is the small Sunday-worship and the small community. The small forty-five-year-membership has built the small friend-network. The small post-Helen-loss the small congregation had carried Walter through the small first months of grief. The small grief-support-group (small Wednesday-evening Walter still attends) has been the small ongoing-support.
The small Sunday-publishing-rhythm of the recipe blog continues to be the small organizing-spine of the small week. The small Sunday-cooking happens in the small late-morning-to-early-afternoon window. The small photographing of the finished dish happens at the small three-PM kitchen-light-window. The small writing-up of the recipe happens at the small four-PM workspace at the kitchen-counter. The small final-edit happens at the small five-PM. The small post publishes at seven PM. The small ritual has been running for years.
The small recipe-development-philosophy continues to be the small small-batch-test-then-publish approach. The small first cook of a small new recipe happens on the small Saturday afternoon. The small adjustments are noted in the small kitchen-notebook. The small second cook happens Sunday with the small adjustments incorporated. The small Sunday-cook is the small version that gets photographed and published. The small two-test process catches the small recipe-flaws before they reach the small reader.
The small kitchen-equipment-inventory has the small key-pieces that show up in nearly every recipe. The small heavy-bottomed Dutch oven for the small braises. The small twelve-inch cast-iron skillet for the small sears and the small pan-roasts. The small half-sheet baking-pans for the small roasted vegetables and the small cookies. The small wooden-spoon-collection in the small ceramic-pitcher on the counter. The small chef’s-knife and the small paring-knife and the small bread-knife that are the small daily-tools.
The small grocery-shopping rhythm runs through the small Tuesday-evening trip and the small Saturday-morning top-off. The small Tuesday-trip is the small weekly-stock-up for the small staples and the small produce and the small protein. The small Saturday-trip is the small quick-fill for whatever the small Sunday-recipe requires that is not already in the small pantry. The small two-trip-per-week pattern keeps the small grocery-bill manageable and the small food-waste low.
The small meal-planning happens on the small Sunday-evening for the small week-ahead. The small dinners are mapped out across the small Monday-through-Saturday. The small repeating-meals are slotted in (the small pasta-Monday, the small taco-Tuesday or similar pattern). The small new-recipes are slotted for the small Wednesday-or-Thursday for the small variety. The small planning ahead reduces the small daily what-are-we-making-for-dinner stress.
The small weekday-cooking is the small efficient-and-fast mode. The small Sunday-cooking is the small slow-and-careful mode. The small two-modes serve the small two-different-needs. The small weekday-cooking has to be on the small table within forty-five minutes of getting home from the small work-or-school-pickup. The small Sunday-cooking can take three hours and benefit from every minute of that time.
The small recipe-archive on the small blog has grown to many hundreds of recipes over the years. The small archive is the small searchable-resource for the small weekday-meal-planning. The small reader-feedback in the small comments-section helps refine the small recipes over time. The small note-from-a-reader who tried a small substitution that worked better than the small original gets incorporated into the small recipe-revision.
The small Sunday-cooking-and-writing rhythm is the small thing that has held across years of life-changes and family-events and small ordinary-weekday-disruptions. The small constant is the small Sunday. The small constant is the small recipe. The small constant is the small posting-at-seven-PM ritual. The small constant is the small reader on the other end of the small post who is going to read the small recipe and try the small recipe in the small reader’s own kitchen.
Tom's call Sunday — the stock, the quiet competence of it, the way a simple thing done carefully can hold a person together — put me in mind of the kind of cooking that asks very little of you and gives a great deal back. Crab cakes have always been in that register for me, the dish I make when Henry comes through Stowe in summer and we want something that feels like a celebration without the fuss. The sides are where I do my thinking. This year, with the corn coming heavy off the row and the apple cider vinegar already on the shelf, it felt right to put down the combination I keep coming back to: a cool, tangy slaw built on Vermont pantry staples, the kind of thing you can make ahead and not worry about while the crab cakes finish in the cast iron.
What To Serve with Crab Cakes — Vermont Apple Cider Slaw
Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes (plus 30 minutes chill) | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 4 cups green cabbage, thinly shredded
- 1 cup red cabbage, thinly shredded
- 1 cup carrots (about 2 medium), peeled and grated
- 3 scallions, thinly sliced
- 1/4 cup apple cider vinegar
- 2 tablespoons mayonnaise
- 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
- 1 tablespoon pure maple syrup
- 1/2 teaspoon celery seed
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Instructions
- Prep the vegetables. Shred the green and red cabbage thinly using a sharp knife or mandoline. Grate the carrots on the large holes of a box grater. Combine cabbage, carrots, and scallions in a large mixing bowl.
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the apple cider vinegar, mayonnaise, Dijon mustard, and maple syrup until smooth and well combined. Stir in the celery seed, salt, and black pepper.
- Dress and toss. Pour the dressing over the vegetable mixture. Toss thoroughly until every strand is coated. Taste and adjust salt and pepper as needed.
- Chill before serving. Cover the bowl and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes before serving. This resting time allows the cabbage to soften slightly and the flavors to come together. The slaw holds well for up to two days in the refrigerator.
- Serve alongside crab cakes. Mound the slaw next to hot crab cakes straight from the cast-iron skillet. The cool acidity of the slaw cuts through the richness of the crab cakes cleanly.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 85 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 5g | Carbs: 10g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 195mg