Pennsylvania Dutch Crookneck (aka Neck Pumpkins)

Crookneck Squash
The neck is solid and provides a lot of "meat".
I love the gorgeous color of this squash!  Beautiful when baked!
Traditional pumpkin color to the batter

Moist and delicious muffins made with Pennsylvannia Crook Necked Squash

We were given some heirloom Pennsylvania Dutch Crookneck Squash seeds this year.  At first, I was a little apprehensive about them thinking that the last thing I needed was another prolific winter squash to try to utilize.  After harvesting and cooking with what is also called the "neck pumpkin", I am a fan of this crazy edible gourd!  When cooked, the pulp is thick and the color is absolutely amazing.  When used to make pumpkin bread or muffins, the squash yields a rich pumpkin taste and a bread that is delightfully moist. 

For directions on how to cook the Pennsylvania Dutch Crookneck Squash click this link

If you would like my pumpkin bread recipe, you can find it here


Korean Cow & Baby Sister

What do you do when you see a cow in Korea?  You take a photo for your cow loving sister back in the states! 


After Apple Picking by Robert Frost


After Apple-Picking

by Robert Frost

My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree
Toward heaven still,
And there's a barrel that I didn't fill
Beside it, and there may be two or three
Apples I didn't pick upon some bough.
But I am done with apple-picking now.
Essence of winter sleep is on the night,
The scent of apples: I am drowsing off.
I cannot rub the strangeness from my sight
I got from looking through a pane of glass
I skimmed this morning from the drinking trough
And held against the world of hoary grass.
It melted, and I let it fall and break.
But I was well
Upon my way to sleep before it fell,
And I could tell
What form my dreaming was about to take.
Magnified apples appear and disappear,
Stem end and blossom end,
And every fleck of russet showing clear.
My instep arch not only keeps the ache,
It keeps the pressure of a ladder-round.
I feel the ladder sway as the boughs bend.
And I keep hearing from the cellar bin
The rumbling sound
Of load on load of apples coming in.
For I have had too much
Of apple-picking: I am overtired
Of the great harvest I myself desired.
There were ten thousand thousand fruit to touch,
Cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall.
For all
That struck the earth,
No matter if not bruised or spiked with stubble,
Went surely to the cider-apple heap
As of no worth.
One can see what will trouble
This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is.
Were he not gone,
The woodchuck could say whether it's like his
Long sleep, as I describe its coming on,
Or just some human sleep.


Thirty Minute Mozzarella Workshop

Photos (in random order) from our most recent "Making Mozzarella" workshop.  We will be offering more workshops starting late February 2013.