The Way We Cook

Our cooking instructor, Eva Szigeti, serves up a thought-provoking piece about the ‘ways’ and the ‘whys’ of cooking, along with a refreshing recipe for an autumnal equinox elixir of sorts.

“Tell me what you eat, and I will tell you what you are, ” goes Anthelme Brillat-Savarin’s famous aphorism. Besides being a lawyer and a politician, Brillat-Savarin was also a gourmet and one of the founders of the gastronomic essay genre. I can’t resist mentioning the charming and very long title of his famous Physiology of Taste, published in 1825. The full French tittle is Physiologie du Goût, ou Méditations de Gastronomie Transcendante; ouvrage théorique, historique et à l’ordre du jour, dédié aux Gastronomes parisiens, par un Professeur, membre de plusieurs sociétés littéraires et savants.

Brillat-Savarin’s famous quote popped into my mind during a cooking class this summer while I was listening to an exchange between a group of campers. Inspired by what I heard, my thoughts went in a bit of a different direction. I was thinking something along the lines of “tell me how you cook, and you will tell a lot about yourself.”

The cooking class conversation involved a group of teenage campers. As one boy was chopping onions, a few pieces fell to the floor, and some jumped from the cutting board to the table. This minor mishap resulted in some friendly teasing from fellow campers. The camper was jokingly called a messy cook. Luckily, he did not feel intimidated, and he had the perfect answer for his friends: “Well, my mom always says that there is no good cooking without a mess in the kitchen.” It did not end here. Another camper offered a very different quote from his own mother: “My mother says that it is very important to always be organized in the kitchen.”

How do you cook? Do you follow a recipe without changing anything? Do you read recipes for inspiration, then close the cookbook? Maybe you don’t use recipes at all. Do you usually stick to several well-tested recipes or does your repertoire always involve something new and adventurous? Do you wash the dishes continuously or do you let them to accumulate? How do you feel about immersing your fingers in sticky dough? Would you avoid a recipe because its preparation comes with a lot of mess? Do you like having company or help while cooking? Are measuring tools your friends or are you just fine without them? Do you plan menus well ahead or just go with the flow?

We are all different and we like to do things differently. The kitchen is not an exception. I always try to remember this when I cook with kids.  When deciding how to engage our children in cooking activities, what tasks to delegate or share, we have to, of course, consider their age first. We need to ask ourselves, ‘what are they able to do and what activities would they enjoy?’. Some children prefer little tasks and want our help, others want to do everything by themselves. Repetitive tasks work for some, but not all. A quiet, patient child will enjoy neatly forming piece after piece of dough into a desired shape. A high-energy, active child will prefer working with a mortar and pestle, or to invest a lot of energy into cranking a manual grinder. Some prefer to imitate the parent and do exactly as told. For others, open-ended tasks are more suitable.

Let’s remember that cooking is a sensory experience. Consciously incorporating this aspect into our projects works especially well with young children. Let them smell, taste, touch, and explore texture. They will take in much more than we would expect.

When we cook together, we cultivate not only good eating habits, but more much: patience, perseverance, creativity among others. We have the opportunity to teach our children about environmental responsibility, the nutritional value of foods we make, and even time management. Cooking also creates an opportunity to improve hand-eye coordination and fine motors skills. Observe your kids as they roll out dough, pour, spoon, chop, measure, decorate, spread, or peel. Do they need help? Are they more skilled than a few months ago? Hands-on experience with food preparation makes for adventurous eaters. By involving children in an activity that makes a difference, we help to build their self-confidence. Most importantly, cooking is a bonding opportunity with our kids—an opportunity to cultivate social skills. We cook together, and while we chop and stir, maybe even teenagers will open up. Maybe we will hear something unexpected; maybe we learn something new about our children. (And, of course, there is a possibility that none of this will happen, but we will still have a nice meal!) It is never too late to start to cook, and never too early to begin to cultivate a lifelong habit of those long conversations in the kitchen.


Pear and Lemon Verbena Soda

Summer meets fall in this refreshing drink. Lemon verbena brings the taste of the warm season, pear: the promise of the upcoming harvest. As we say goodbye to the summer and welcome the fall, this is a great drink for the last outdoor gathering of the season, or the celebration of the fall equinox.

Older children should be able to prepare this recipe without help (make sure to supervise them when they handle hot water.)  Ask the younger ones to squeeze out the lemon juice, to measure out the liquids and the sugar, to stir the sugar into the hot tea and watch it “disappear”. Don’t forget to let them smell and touch the fresh herb!

6 sprigs of fresh lemon verbena, about 5’’ long
5 cups boiling water
3 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 bottle of sparkling pear juice

Pour boiling water over lemon verbena. Let it steep for 10 minutes. Strain the tea. Add sugar. Stir to dissolve. Let the tea to cool.

When ready to serve, put a few ice cubes into each glass. Pour in one part lemon verbena tea and one part sparkling pear juice. Garnish with slices of lemon and lemon verbena leaves. Enjoy!

Summer 2016 Cookbook

If you have a hunger for more of Eva’s stories and recipes, you’ll want to check out our digital version of Eva’s cookbook from this past summer. A recipe corresponding to each of summer 2016’s weekly themes is included, as well as pictures, and plenty of kitchen magic.

We can’t wait to see what kinds of new Nature Place specialties get created this summer…

Summer 2016 C

Garden Power

Our cooking instructor, Eva Szigeti, shares her thoughts on the importance of gardening, as well as a recipe for a delicious post-gardening snack.

Dirty hands, wet boots, a speckle of mud on the face, stones and seeds in the pocket, a basket of fresh vegetables in hand: this is a child coming from the garden. He looks messy and a little tired, but his face glows with satisfaction.

Most children are drawn to gardens and are happy to spend some time in these cultivated slices of nature. By adding a little bit of age appropriate guidance, our gardens can become great informal outdoor classrooms and labs. Gardens serve many purposes and they can provide space for various activities for our children.

Gardening is a great hobby. Those who don’t garden yet and need an excuse to start, will easily find one (or more) reasons to do so. Gardening is of course an extremely practical hobby: a gardener grows food.  But there is more. Having a garden benefits our kids, gardening is therapeutic, and growing your own food is environmentally responsible (as opposed to buying produce shipped from faraway places). To work in the garden means to exercise. Then let’s consider the health benefits of eating very fresh organic vegetables, etc. The list could go on and on.

Gardening has been part of my life since my early years. No matter how small, I have always had a garden or at least several pots of herbs and flowers to satisfy my need to grow plants. When my children were young, they had no choice but to accompany me to the garden. They did not mind. Equipped with small shovels, they never got tired of digging. Children are naturally attracted to dirt. Letting a young child explore the soil and look for worms is a good introductory garden activity. Water is another favorite. Watering never disappoints a child. Small watering cans are best for young children, while older kids can usually be trusted with the hose.

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If you encounter a reluctant young gardener, he or she may be lured to the garden with the promise of a fresh snack. Few could resist a freshly picked strawberry, sweet tender carrot, or the first cherry tomato of the season.

The physical work in the garden engages the muscles. The garden environment engages kids’ senses and imagination. It inspires curiosity and provides space for exploration and magic. The garden is the meeting place of the strivings of humans and the work of nature. We humans sometimes loose. We are not always in control.  So we cultivate patience, perseverance, we figure out plan B, we learn to compromise.  Entering a garden, children are stepping away from the world of technology and from instant gratification. Here they need to wait, be persistent, and take responsibility. They are operating in the real world, where actions have real consequences.


Gardening is sometimes hard work, but from caring comes satisfaction, sense of purpose, and achievement. It builds self-esteem and teaches how to work with nature. In the microcosm of the garden, the children observe the cycle of life first hand. They learn to understand not only where food comes from, but also what it takes to grow it. They acquire a very useful life skill: how to grow food and provide for themselves. It is empowering. Young gardeners also learn to taste the difference between quality fresh produce and veggies from the supermarket. Their bodies will start craving food that is fresh and nutritious.

“I don’t like the ones from the store, but these are good.” This is a statement often heard during snacking in the garden. It is a hopeful statement. It shows the power of seemingly small things. It reinforces my belief that our gardens can help us raise thriving children.

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And now, for an easy post-gardening snack recipe…

Egg Spread Sandwiches

This is a nutritious, easy to make spread. Older children should be able to prepare this recipe without adults’ help. Younger children can help to peel the eggs and decorate the sandwiches. If you have a garden, use homegrown herbs and vegetables to decorate the sandwiches.

5 hardboiled eggs, finely chopped
4 ounces cream cheese
2 tablespoons white yogurt or sour cream
1 tablespoon mustard
2 tablespoon finely chopped onion, green onion or chives
salt and black pepper to taste
sliced bread or baguette
radishes, chives and/or cucumber to decorate the sandwiches

Combine all ingredients in a bowl. Mix, then mash together with a fork. Taste and add more salt or pepper if needed. Spread on bread of sliced baguette. Decorate with fresh vegetables.

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The Rise and Fall of the Sourdough

Eva Szigeti gives a peek into the living world of Sourdough culture and its many culinary uses.

Before there was commercial yeast, humanity had sourdough. All yeasted breads were made with a starter culture of some kind: sourdough culture, mother starter, levain, whole wheat starter, white flour starter, spelt starter, etc. Regardless of the name, it has always been a mixture of flour and water (or other liquid), colonized by strains of wild yeast and lactobacilli.

How does a sourdough culture cause the bread to rise? Certain proteins in wheat, called glutenin and gliadin, are activated when flour is mixed with water. Together they form gluten. As wild yeast eats away the sugars in the flour, it produces carbon dioxide. Thanks to gluten (meaning glue in Latin) and its elasticity, the dough stretches, making room for the little bubbles of gas and at the same time trapping them in the dough. The acidity of lactobacilli acts as a preservative – the acidic environment works with the yeast, but it’s inhospitable to other organisms. The collaboration between yeast and gluten leads to a fluffy bread with a pleasantly chewy texture, while lactic acid adds the tangy flavor.

Although sourdough bread is usually considered superior to breads made with commercial yeast, we mostly gave up on sourdough baking for the sake of convenience (commercial yeast offering a faster, more straightforward process), and for more reliable and consistent results (less fuss, more predictable dough).

We home bakers may feel intimidated by the task of baking with sourdough culture, but as soon as we learn about the process, we will be more at ease. If we look for instructions, we will find recipes for sourdough starters made with beer, grape juice, wine, or potato water, but these are not necessary or even desirable.  All it takes is some high-quality flour (ideally rye), good water, and time. Lactobacilli and wild yeast (a strain of yeast naturally occurring in flour and the environment) will make themselves at home in the mixture and do the rest of the work. Perhaps you have heard stories about sourdough starters that are generations old, but your sourdough starter doesn’t have to be old (only mature) to work well. It will be unique no matter when and how the culture was started. It will adapt to the environment of your kitchen. It will be affected by the temperature, humidity, altitude, type of flour used, and your care. As you learn to “feel” your starter, you will be able to control its acidity, slowing down or speeding up its rise.

Sourdough starter culture

Sourdough starter culture

It is also worth remembering that the use of the starter doesn’t have to be restricted to bread and rolls. Sourdough culture can be used to make pizza dough, pancakes, waffles, muffins, brownies or even a chocolate cake.

Although making your own sourdough starter is not complicated, it does require some time and attention. Before I started baking with sourdough, I had done some research on the subject. Along the way, I was confronted with vocabulary that seemed slightly unusual in the context of culinary activities. I encountered words about the rising and falling sourdough (and that it is ok for it to fall.)  I learned that a sourdough culture could get exhausted (after consuming all available sugars) and need feeding (more flour). Some sentences suggested even more drama: If neglected, the culture may dry out. It can be saved by resuscitation (meaning by adding more flour, water and a good stir). Luckily, a revived sourdough will bounce back. Then, if fed properly, it will mature and increase in strength and flavor. Everyday feeding is required in the beginning. Once a week feeding is sufficient for a more mature culture.

Had I not known that the sourdough starter is actually a living thing, the vocabulary of fellow bakers/writers would have no doubt given me a clue. It is clear that sourdough culture requires care. We parents certainly have an advantage here. The job is to nourish the starter, to feed it, keep it warm, and to intervene at the right moment. It is important to keep things in balance (right ratio of flour and liquid is important, and timing of the feeding matters). We also need to be able to let go, because part of our nourished sourdough culture will need to be occasionally discarded or given away in order to keep the starter healthy.

Since we are already experienced in all of this, now might be a good a time as any to mix up some flour with water and wait for it to come to life. It could be a beginning of a story told years, perhaps decades from now, by our kids: a tale of a sourdough culture handed down by a mother or father weirdly obsessed with baking the old-fashioned way.


(Sourdough) Chocolate-Walnut Squares

The word sourdough is in parenthesis because there will be nothing “sourdoughish” about the taste of your dessert. The acids will be consumed in reaction with the baking soda. The texture and taste will say “cake” not “bread”. You can use or omit the word sourdough in the name, based on your audience. Use it, if you think the potential consumers will appreciate the unusual ingredient. Don’t call it sourdough if you are baking for not-very-adventurous eaters–they will never know…

Sourdough Chocolate Walnut Square

Sourdough Chocolate Walnut Square


You will need a mature sourdough starter for this project. Recipes are available online.


For the sourdough:

¼ cup sourdough starter
¾ cups all-purpose flour

The sourdough should be of a consistency of pancake batter
Mix the sourdough culture with flour and water the night before baking. Cover it loosely and keep at room temperature overnight.


For the Chocolate-Walnut Squares

¾ cups sugar, plus 1 tablespoon for sprinkling
2 eggs
1/3 canola, safflower or coconut oil
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
5 ounces semi-sweet chocolate, melted and cooled
1 ½ cups all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon salt
1 cup sourdough from the previous night
½ cup chopped walnuts
Preheat the oven to 350-degrees. Combine sugar, eggs, oil, vanilla, and melted chocolate. Sift dry ingredients together and add to the wet mixture. Gently stir in the sourdough. Put into a greased and floured 8” x 6” baking pan. Sprinkle with walnuts and sugar. Bake for 30-35 minutes. Cool and cut into squares.


The Pantry

Eva Szigeti unpacks the pantry, and in doing so, lets us in to the longing, beauty, and ambition that are bedfellows of every gardener and cook.


It is cold outside. The first significant snow of the season is coming down, covering the empty garden beds. I feel content in my warm, cozy living room.

In general, I am quite happy with our suburban home. Still, if I could wish for two extra rooms, I would not hesitate. My choices would be clear: I would wish for a mudroom, hoping that all the mess would be left behind there and keeping the house neat and clean would be easier. Even more than a mudroom, I would love to have a space for storing food, a pantry room.

“Pantry? That’s a funny word,” my seven year old daughter comments. “What does it have to do with pants?”

Well, not much. The word has its origin in Latin. There was the Latin panis, then Anglo-French paneterie and paneter (servant in charge of the pantry). Paneterie became panetrie in Middle English and today we call the space reserved for storing food ‘pantry’. The Latin panis means, of course, bread. The funny word actually does make perfect sense.

Hearing the word pantry I see a small, cold, dark room full of edible treasures: pickles of all sorts, jams and jellies, canned and dried fruit, homemade tomato sauce, cured meats, nuts and herbs. A pantry is like a walk-in closet, but instead of shirts, dresses, suits, and scarves there are pickles, jams, beans, and smoked sausage.

A small pantry room is a common feature of European houses and even city apartments. I miss not having a pantry.

I see the pantries of my childhood: rooms with simple, wooden shelves filled with neat rows of jars of different colors and sizes: sour cherry preserve, prune butter, pickles, pickled stuffed peppers, canned apricots to mention just a few favorites. There are sausages, slabs of bacon and prosciutto hanging from a rack. On the floor is a big crock of lard. Next to it are bags of flour, rice, sugar, and salt – a lot of it – much more than a family could use in a week or two. Just in case…

One could find walnuts, dry beans, red paprika, and herbs stored in linen bags. There are perhaps a few bottles of elderberry syrup and a ceramic barrel filled with sauerkraut. Grandma’s pantry was never without heart-shaped gingerbread cookies she kept for us, her grandchildren.


I am thinking about the next growing season and I am already filling my imaginary pantry. The first jars of the season are the strawberry and strawberry rhubarb jams in late May. They are followed by jars of canned cherries and sour cherry preserve in June. Raspberries and apricots are next. In July, I will preserve blueberries and make lots of pickles: garlic pickles, dill pickles, and horseradish pickles. The surplus tomatoes from the garden will be turned into tomato sauce, some might be dried, and maybe I will push myself and make ketchup. Peppers will be pickled, red ones preserved in oil. Peaches, my favorite canned fruit, are a must in August. I definitely will make prune butter and eggplant spread. Drying herbs for cooking and tea will be an ongoing activity all summer long. Then the fall comes and with it the season of applesauce and sauerkraut. In late September, I will make a huge jar of pickled “everything” like my grandma used to make. Nothing gets wasted, so in a gallon-sized jar the season’s last peppers, green tomatoes, and cabbage come together with some carrots, onions, and pickling spices. This will be the special jar for the holidays.

For the gardener, the pantry is sort of a memoir of the last growing season. It is like a marketplace for a cook. For children, the pantry room is an exciting and tempting space to explore. They sneak in when no one is looking to have a taste of the best jam. Just a tiny bit, so mother wouldn’t notice. Mothers consider the pantry their own domain. They hide birthday presents on the highest shelf behind the tall jars. For them, it is a safe place to keep the sweet treats they give out now and then.

I’d like to have a pantry room because it is practical, but also because it could be beautiful, giving a sense of safety and satisfaction to the gardener and cook in me.

There are of course many more reasons to wish for a pantry. I like to keep in mind that Emily Dickinson wrote some of her poems in the quiet, cool pantry room…



Bean Mandala


On a winter day, the pantry could be a source of material for an art project. A surplus of dry beans and peas could be used for making bean mandalas.

You will need:
Piece of heavy cardboard
Beans, peas and/or lentils of different colors and sizes
Craft glue
Ruler and compass (optional)

Using compass and ruler draw your mandala design on the cardboard. Choose beans, lentils and peas you would like to use for particular areas of your mandala. Put glue on the area you wish to fill with beans. Glue the beans on. Proceed to the next segment of your mandala.

Make sure to use a variety of colors and sizes.

If you prefer to work without drawing a design, start by creating the middle of your mandala first. Develop your design as you go.


Quest for Bread

Nature Place cooking activity leader, Eva Szigeti, writes about food and cooking, and how to feel at home, wherever you are. 


It never was part of my plan to bake bread. Like many other things in life, somehow it happened…

I grew up in a place where “daily bread” is not only a metaphor for food in general, but where bread is truly eaten daily, almost with every meal. Good bread with fresh butter is the ultimate comfort food for most of my countrymen and countrywomen. For kids, bread with butter and honey or jam is what peanut butter sandwiches are for American children.

My quest for the “perfect bread” began years ago when I left Europe for the United States. Coming to a place far away from home, I braced myself for the unknown. I knew that I would have to face the unexpected, but I was unprepared to be somewhat hungry almost all the time. In this country, which was to become my new home, I encountered sophisticated technology, an abundance of goods and foods, but shockingly, I could not find good bread or butter. And there is no home without good bread and butter… never before had I thought about the value of basic, simple food. To make myself feel at home, I started to bake bread.

The loaves that came out of my oven in the beginning of my journey were great compared to the ones sitting on the shelves of the supermarket, yet still very far from the imagined “perfect bread”. The first turning point came when an older lady living in the neighborhood paid a visit soon after my son was born. Along with her good wishes and tiny, hand-knitted mittens and socks, she brought us one of her home-baked loaves as a gift. The very next day I was walking home from her house with her bread recipe in my pocket, and in my hands I was carrying the real gift: a jar full of sweet-and-tangy smelling, bubbly sourdough starter. That’s when the real magic began…

A few years and many loaves later, on a rainy summer day in Transylvania, I was helping my husband’s uncle, a retired baker, to make bread. He lives in a tiny village where the drinking water comes from the stream running behind the houses, and where the art of traditional bread making is still alive. At the end of the day, out of the wood-fired oven came robust, round loaves with thick, dark crusts, and these loaves redefined my idea of bread. That night we ate the same kind of bread the baker’s ancestors had on their tables. My request for the recipe left a friendly smile on the baker’s face. Naive me, of course – he had no recipe, he didn’t need one, he knew the way of bread… After this day, my loaves became much better again.

My next inspiration came from reading experience. In books written by professional bakers, I found not only inspiring recipes but motivating personal stories, and most importantly, techniques that brought my baking to a new level.

Over the years I have shared many breads with my family and friends: free-formed, pan-baked, white and whole-wheat, yeasted and sourdough, wheat, rye, spelt and multi-grain, breads “spiced up” with potatoes, seeds, cheese, spices… It has always been a great pleasure for me to work with my hands, experiment with ingredients and give the fruits of my work to those I love.

All of the above being true, I sometimes think about the other side of the truth. The dark secret of my bread baking (as dark as the crust of a burned loaf of bread, one could say) is that I can’t get away from it. By baking bread my family likes, I build myself a trap. My children would often label average quality, store-brought bread as “not proper bread”, and politely (or not so politely) refuse it. But they do want to eat bread and I just have to keep baking. One loaf disappears quickly and soon it is time to bake another and then yet another. I am trapped… or am I? Maybe I have to admit that there is something satisfying in this demand for bread coming from my family, and maybe I like my established baking routine (at least most of the time). The bread I bake is certainly not perfect and it never will be, but having it is part of what it means to be home.


Whole-wheat Rolls
(makes 16 medium rolls)

2 cups whole-wheat flour
4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
3 cups lukewarm water
2 teaspoons instant dry yeast
2 tablespoons salt

Combine dry ingredients in a mixing bowl. Add water. Stir together with a large spoon or mix on low speed in a mixer with the paddle attachment until the dough comes together. You may need a little more or less flour, depending on the quality of your flour. Adjust with water or flour if your dough seems too sticky or too dry.

Cover and let rest for about 20 minutes. Knead by hand or machine (on medium speed for 12 minutes).

Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let the dough ferment at room temperature for approximately 1 ½ – 2 hours, or until it doubles in size. Push the dough down and let it proof again until it doubles in size.

Dust your counter or a large wooden board with flour. Transfer the dough onto the floured surface, divide it into 16 pieces and form round rolls. Cover a large baking sheet with parchment and arrange the rolls on the sheet. Brush the tops of the rolls with lukewarm water and let them rest for 30 minutes. Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Bake the rolls for about 20 minutes. Remove the baking sheet from the oven and transfer the rolls to a cooling rack. Cool for at least 45 minutes before serving.


Eva Szigeti operates Pinebrook Garden Day Care, child-care centered around hands-on homesteading activities and free creative play. She also offers cooking and fiber craft classes for children and programs for homeschoolers.  For the past three summers Eva has been teaching cooking at The Nature Place Day Camp.

Garden Dreams Coming True

It was a midwinter day. We were engaging in a gardener’s favorite wintertime activity: looking through seed catalogs, planning and daydreaming. As so many gardeners do, we were dreaming about the growing season. We tried not to acknowledge the sight of our frozen garden, the gray emptiness of the ground, the garden fence that seemed to have no purpose in January. We were dreaming of the summer when the gardener no longer remembers the barren soil, the empty beds. With our inner eyes we saw all shades of green in our garden beds, a fence covered with climbing beans, we saw red tomatoes hiding under the leaves, shiny peppers asking to be picked, colorful flowers being visited by bees and butterflies, and busy hands weeding, watering, mulching, picking …

The gardener waiting for the arrival of spring is impatient, she wants to dig and plant. She can’t, so she keeps busy and compensates by looking through seed catalogs. And as she does there is so much hope, so much expectation, that shopping for seeds becomes almost a mania. As if buying a lot, much more than one can plant, or as if ordering the seeds right at that moment could bring the first day of spring closer.

As I was browsing through seed catalogs with my children and planning what to plant and where to build new garden beds my son suddenly said: “Let’s save one garden bed for snack food.” I wasn’t sure what he meant exactly, but I was a very proud mother at that moment. I felt that engaging the kids in gardening activities from an early age was paying off. My child was hoping for snacks from the garden. I couldn’t wait to hear his explanation. It turned out he wanted to plant vegetables he and his sister like to munch on raw, preferably super-freshly picked and right in the garden. My son was dreaming about a garden bed filled with crunchy kohlrabi, buttery salad turnips and radishes, kale, peas in tender pods, and lemony sorrel.

At last, the spring has arrived. We opened our garden shed, took out the tools and went to the garden to start the new gardening season. Turnip, radish and kale seeds were planted directly into garden beds. Kohlrabi seeds were put into planters, emerging seedlings will be kept in the greenhouse for a few weeks. Sorrel, being a hardy perennial, was already there in the garden, the first leaves of the season were ready to be picked.



Although sorrel is not very well know in these parts of the world, it is well worth planting. This plant with spear-shaped leaves, native throughout Europe and  Euro-Asia, somewhat resembles spinach but its pleasantly sour taste will surprise everyone trying it for the first time. Sorrel is also one of the first greens to come back in early spring, it is ready to be harvested before some other plants are even planted. When established, the gardener can forget about it, it more or less takes care of itself. As a child, I remember picking sorrel leaves growing among the grass under my great-grandmother’s sour cherry tree. I had assumed at the time that sorrel was a wild plant.

In the kitchen, sorrel can be treated as a salad green or leafy vegetable. Use raw sorrel in salads, wraps and sandwiches. The most common sorrel dish is a sorrel sauce, but the tart green leaves work well in soups and sautés as well. Sorrel combines well with potatoes and eggs. The lightness and lemony tang of sorrel sauce nicely compliments dishes made with red meats.

But of course as all young gardeners know, sorrel is best eaten as a snack, just by itself, preferably right in the garden. And as my children were munching on the first leaves of the season, I knew that our garden dreams will all come true.

sorrel and potato frittata

sorrel and potato frittata

Sorrel & Potato Frittata

2 medium potatoes; peeled, sliced and precooked
1 small onion, sliced
3 packed cups sorrel
6 eggs
¼ cup Swiss cheese, grated
2 tablespoons canola or safflower oil
pinch of pepper
salt to taste

Heat an 8-inch ovenproof skillet over medium heat. Add oil. Add onion and sauté 10 minutes or until tender. Add sorrel and cook, stirring just until sorrel wilts, about 2 minutes. Add precooked potatoes and gently mix with onion and sorrel.

Beat eggs, combine with salt and pepper. Pour egg mixture over vegetables in pan. Cook until edges begin to set, about 3 minutes. Sprinkle with cheese.

Finish the frittata under the broiler. Using the “low” setting, the top of the frittata should be about 4-5 inches from the flames. Take the frittata out as soon as the top starts to brown, this will probably take no more than a minute.

Cut into wedges and serve with fresh salad.

Leftovers make a great cold lunch.

frittata slice

Dinner Table Dilemmas

Nature Place cooking activity leader, Eva Szigeti, writes about food, family, and finding our way.

Sitting down to the table and sharing food with our family is mostly a source of pleasure. But dinner could easily turn into a less-than-pleasant power struggle if children are not happy with the food being served.

As parents we make dietary choices not only for ourselves but for our offspring as well.  We do our best to stay informed and to make the right decisions. We try to educate ourselves: we read, we research online, we talk to those who have more experience than we do, we learn from our own experience and our mistakes. On our quest for best dietary rules for our family, we are bombarded with information and sometimes it is not easy to weed out pseudoscience, myths, folk wisdom, or marketing strategies masked as science. The quantity of of information itself can be overwhelming and is often contradictory. We try to answer for ourselves a multitude of questions: Is gluten harmful to my children? Would they be better off on a vegetarian diet? Paleo perhaps? Is red meat a good choice? Is lactose making my child hyper? How much sugar is too much? Should I limit the intake of fresh fruit due to its sugar content? Do they need to take omega-3 supplements? Is the latest superfood truly beneficial for my child, or is all the fuss just a marketing strategy? It used to be common knowledge that peanuts should be avoided at an early age because their consumption might trigger an allergy. According to more recent research giving peanuts at an early age might actually prevent peanut allergies. So what does a new parent do about peanuts? It seems that the list of questions never ends. We are lost in a jungle of information and we feel more confused than informed.

Feeling overwhelmed, I choose to step back, take a deep breath and using the best of my knowledge, I set up my own dietary rules. They are based on information I deem scientific, on common sense, and intuition. Of course I am aware that I am also caring the baggage of my upbringing, culture, beliefs, and my own dietary habits that will undoubtedly influence my decision. The balancing act starts.

Once decisions are made and rules are set, meals are planned, cooked and eaten. Well, hopefully eaten. Since most of us incorporate into daily meal plans foods that not all children are excited about, we face the next dilemma: how to motivate children to try foods they are resistant to eating, how much to encourage and push. Is modeling right eating habits enough? Of course, involving children in growing food and cooking is a great proven strategy for growing good eaters, but it is not always an option.

How we perceive food is based not only on its flavor and texture. Sometimes giving a dish a special name makes all the difference. When I had offered my kids a vegetarian bean chili and called it Bean Chili, no one was interested. I served the very same dish next time disguised under the name of Cowboy Beans. The children were very excited, seconds were served and we had no leftovers that day. Ever since it’s been one of my kid’s favorite meals.

When a young child is more likely to eat broccoli if I call the florets ‘little trees’, I am more than willing to call them just that. Rice and other grains can be made into ‘mountains’ by using a small porcelain cup as a mold. A rain of fresh herbs falling on the mountaintop makes the rice even more appealing. Just playing with words can sometimes be a tremendous help.

Then there is the aesthetics of food presentation.  I perceive it as the finale of the cooking process. The meal starts with a visual feast, then as we inhale the aroma of the food, smell gives us a hint regarding flavor and our taste buds are ready… I enjoy arranging food on a plate and on the table almost as much as eating it. With a nice presentation we honor the food and the work that went into preparing it.


Still, I do want my children to learn to value food for what it is, and I do not like to go overboard with making dishes look overly ‘child friendly’. The food on the plate should be visually appealing, but flower-shaped pancakes or sandwiches resembling hearts do not appeal to me. Perhaps a special occasion like a birthday or seasonal celebration can be an exception, such as the ‘duck pond” we made on a special spring day.

Since eggs have a green light on the list of my dietary rules, an egg dish is an obvious choice for the season. Eggs not only symbolize spring and a new beginning of the cycle of life, but they are also abundant at this time of the year. For the last few weeks we have been finding a nest full of eggs every day. Some of our hens lay brown eggs, while eggs of our Ameraucana chicken have an unusual green tint. Children like to collect eggs as much as they enjoy the dishes made out of them.


Duck Pond

4 hard-boiled eggs
2 teaspoons butter
½ teaspoon mustard
1 tablespoon sour cream
½ cup plain yogurt
salt and black pepper to taste

boiled potato
8 black peppercorns
piece of carrot

Cut the eggs in half, gently take out the yolks. In a small mixing bowl combine the yolks, butter, mustard, sour cream, salt and black pepper. Mix until smooth. Refill the eggs with the mixture. Combine the leftover egg yolk mixture with the yogurt. Add salt and pepper to taste. Spread the yogurt on a plate. Arrange the eggs, cut side down on the yogurt “pond”. Mash the potato and form small balls, add peppercorns for eyes and pieces of carrot for a beak. Use a toothpick to attach the ‘head’ to the ‘body’.


Eva Szigeti operates Pinebrook Garden Day Care, child-care centered around hands-on homesteading activities and free creative play. She also offers cooking and fiber craft classes for children and programs for homeschoolers.  For the past three summers Eva has been teaching cooking at The Nature Place Day Camp.

Strawberries Do Not Grow in Snow


Strawberries don’t grow in January. Certainly not in my garden or anywhere nearby.

Still, I can buy them on any given day and enjoy my morning yogurt with strawberries, even in deep winter. Unless, of course, I have made a decision to eat seasonally whenever possible…

The idea of eating locally and seasonally may seem like one of the new trends in our food culture, a choice made by those who understand the environmental, economical and health impacts of our food-related decisions. Ironically, it is also an option reserved only for those who can afford it.

Of course, local and seasonal eating is not a new invention at all. It is how people had eaten for millennia before the birth of modern agriculture, factory farming and extensive global trade. It never was a choice, it was simply a way of life, the one and only option for most of humanity.

For those who have to live and eat with the season without having any other alternative, the idea of strawberries in January may sound like a passage from one of my favorite fairy tales, that of The Twelve Months.

In this story, a gentle-hearted stepdaughter is sent in January to the forest to bring back strawberries. Her stepmother is hoping that she will never return. It is cold and the snow on the mountain is deep. But the girl keeps walking until she comes to a clearing.  What follows is a very powerful image that stayed with me well beyond my childhood years: There is a large fire burning and twelve men are sitting on stones around the fire; twelve men in a circle, from very young to very old. They are the personified months. An old man, the great January, is sitting on the highest stone, holding a wand in his hand. After hearing the girl’s story, January says the obvious: “Strawberries do not grow in snow.” Then he stands up, gives his place and his wand to a much younger man, June. June takes a seat on the highest rock, waves the wand above the fire and the snow starts to melt, the trees blossom, birds sing, and strawberries appear under the bushes….

When we choose to eat locally and seasonally as much as possible, beyond all the good rational reasons that lead to this decision we, I believe, also express some intangible, primordial longing for simplicity and a more transparent life. Life and time measured by the rhythm of nature just feels safe and comforting. A seasonal, local meal is so much more than sustenance, it is a story of the place, its climate and its people. Wanting to be part of that story seems just natural.

But what does the seasonal eater do when she craves a fresh vegetable salad in February? Fresh, seasonal salad at this time of the year sounds like an oxymoron. Luckily, the humble roots can save the day.

Even before refrigeration, there was the root cellar where carrots, turnips, beets, parsnips, potatoes, and other root vegetables and tubers were kept fresh through the winter months. Like an underground treasure chest, it kept the produce safe from frost and provided the right humidity to preserve its freshness.

Let’s bring up some beets, carrots and apples from our imaginary root cellar and make a simple, truly down-to-earth salad.

Beets, being a true child of Mother Earth, taste, I imagine, like the soil that nourishes them.  I like to say that they carry the flavor of the earth, but not everyone thinks highly of their flavor. Please give them a chance. In this salad, they are in the right company and they shine. Even those who tend to say “no, thank you” to beets might reconsider. The earthiness of beets and carrots, along with their natural sweetness, is balanced in this recipe with the pleasant tang of lemon juice. It only takes one bite of a crisp, tart apple piece for the whole combination to come to life. Feel free to add a handful of raisins, especially if you think their addition will make the salad more appealing to children.

Savor the season. Enjoy winter’s bounty.


Winter’s Bounty Salad
3 cups grated beets (about 4 small to medium beets)
1 ½ cups grated carrots (about 4 medium carrots)
1 large, crisp, tart apple, cubed
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice or to taste
1 teaspoon olive oil
handful of raisins (optional)

Combine grated beets, carrots and chunks of apple. Add olive oil and lemon juice. Mix gently. Sprinkle with raisins, if using.


Eva Szigeti operates Pinebrook Garden Day Care, child-care centered around hands-on homesteading activities and free creative play. She also offers cooking and fiber craft classes for children and programs for homeschoolers.  For the past three summers Eva has been teaching cooking at The Nature Place Day Camp.

Hot Soup on a Cold Day

Soup for a Winter Day

Nothing tastes better on a cold winter day than a bowl of steaming hot soup. It is true today but it was especially true in former times when a heated house meant a fire burning in the fireplace or in the wood-burning stove. Aromas filling the not-so-warm room and the expectation of a tasty, hot bowl of soup must have been truly comforting. Of course, good hot soup is something to look forward to even today.

The best choice for the season is a filling, hearty soup. In old days at this time of the year there were dried legumes and herbs in the pantry, sauerkraut in the cellar, cabbage, potatoes and root vegetables in the root cellar. If available, cream, milk, sour cream, cheese, or smoked meat provided the luxury of extra protein. Soups became even more filling if pasta, dumplings or grains (think barley, rice, wild rice) were added.

Making soup could be a fun and satisfying activity even for inexperienced cooks.  Although we tend to perceive soup making as a lengthy process, most soups require only several minutes of prep time. While it is true that a good chicken or beef soup benefits from a long slow simmering and it may take half a day to cook, vegetable soups usually require much less cooking time.

So why not to reserve a little time for some unhurried cooking and make a big pot of soup. Maybe we can try to transform the mundane activity of cooking and establish a family ritual of, let’s say, Soup Saturdays. Part of the process can be finding an exciting new recipe or accepting the challenge of improvised cooking and simply making a soup out of what we can find on the shelves of our kitchen cabinets or in the refrigerator.

Potato soups (creamy or chunky), bean and lentil soups, carrot, winter squash or sweet potato cream soups (mild or spicy, made with coconut milk or without), minestrone and borsch (vegetarian or not), cabbage or sauerkraut based soup are all good candidates to become your family’s next favorite winter meal. Make a big pot, most soups taste great reheated next day when the flavors truly come together. Making a bigger batch usually doesn’t mean much more work but it will feed the family more than once.

Keeping with a family tradition, we cooked lentil soup on New Year’s Day. Lentils, looking like tiny coins, are perceived as a symbol of money.  Legend has it that eating lentils on the first day of the year will assure prosperity and financial safety.  There are, of course, no guarantees. Still, on New Year’s Day we nourished our bodies with a satisfying, tasty meal and honored the tradition of our ancestors.  And that is good enough for me.



Lentil Soup

2 tablespoons vegetable oil
½ cup diced onions
½ cup diced celery or celeriac
½ cup diced carrots
1 ½ cup French lentils
¼ teaspoon dried thyme
2 bay leaves
1 clove of garlic
¼ black pepper or to taste
few pinches of nutmeg
2 cups diced potatoes
1-2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
salt to taste
water or stock

For more protein and an extra layer of flavor smoked meat can be added.

Soak lentils overnight (or at least for 5-6 hours) in water. Drain.

In a heavy-bottomed pot heat the vegetable oil. Add the onions, celery or celeriac, and carrots. Sauté until golden. Pour in the water or the broth, add drained lentils, thyme, bay leaves, garlic, pepper, nutmeg, and smoked meat, if using. Cook covered on medium heat for about 40 minutes.  Add the potatoes and cook an additional 15-20 minutes until lentils and potatoes are tender. Add the vinegar and salt to taste. Adjust spices if necessary. Serve with quality bread or rolls.