This soup has it all: healthy, hearty, quick to make, and tastes fabulous.

Last year, my little pumpkin patch was prolific, and we harvested 75-100 pounds of squash. I still have some of those pumpkins leftover today, waiting to be turned into pies, cookies, breads, and this soup. I first made this soup earlier this year during a surprise late-spring cold snap. Brant’s not a fan of squash, but he knew not to complain as I was running out of creative uses for pumpkin and this soup automatically garnished my favor simply because it used two cups of pumpkin. I was hesitant because I was afraid that the soup would taste pumpkin-y. Nope! It was great! Brant and I were both eager to eat it again for leftovers and, like most soups, it tasted even better the second day. The pumpkin made the soup rich and thick, but even with such a large amount of pumpkin, the soup didn’t taste like squash. We loved the addition of the meaty, salty ham chunks and the flavor that they imparted. This is a new favorite for us on cold winter nights, and it’s so healthy that we don’t feel guilty about going back for seconds!

These are awesome. It took me a while to perfect the recipe, but now that I’ve done so, I want to serve them at every gathering we host. What better way to eat veggies than wrapped in bacon!?

The first time I made these, I followed the directions exactly and immediately could see room for improvement. The original recipe called for cooking the bundles on a jelly roll pan, which was fine until you served them and realized that the bacon tops were crisp but the bottoms were soggy and floating in grease. Gross. Additionally, the green beans were dried out from 40 minutes in the oven, making them overly chewy and difficult to eat.

The next time I baked these, I cooked them on a cookie rack to keep the bundles from floating in grease, and I turned and basted them half way through cooking to allow the bacon to brown evenly on all sides. And to solve the problem of the bacon and green beans cooking at different rates, I blanched the green beans for 4 minutes in boiling water and pre-cooked the bacon for a couple of minutes on the stove until it was just beginning to cook and yet still very pliable. This halved the cooking time and resulted in much more evenly cooked bundles. My only problem was the sauce; I had doubled it, which was a great decision, but the brown sugar kept caramelizing into a solid mass. That would not work very well for basting! I decided that the brown sugar should be added to the sauce last, off the heat, and simply stirred until dissolved. The result? Green bean bacon bundle perfection.

green bean bacon bundles
recipe adapted from How Sweet It Is and cooking methods developed by Dishing the Divine

1 pound fresh green beans
10-12 slices of thick-cut bacon (I used applewood smoked bacon and loved it)
4 tablespoons butter
4 cloves of garlic, minced
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1 1/2 tablespoon brown sugar

Preheat oven to 400F. Place a cookie rack on top of a large baking sheet.

Boil a large pot of water. While the water is boiling, cut the ends off the green beans. Blanch in the boiling water for 3-4 minutes, until the beans are bright green and tender crisp. Drain in a colander and rinse immediately with cold water. Set aside.

Cook bacon in batches on the stove for 2-3 minutes or until the meat is just starting to cook but is still very pliable. (It should not be crisp or else you won’t be able to wrap it around the green beans!)

Gather the green beans in bunches of 6-8 beans, wrap with a piece of bacon, and place on the cookie rack. Secure with a toothpick if you desire. Repeat the process for the remaining green beans and bacon.

On the stove over medium high heat, heat the butter until melted. Add the garlic, salt and pepper and cook until garlic is fragrant, about 30 seconds. Remove the pan from the heat, add the brown sugar, and stir until dissolved. Baste the tops of the bundles with half of this mixture.

Cook for 10 minutes. Remove from oven and carefully rotate all the bundles so that the tops become the bottoms. Baste again with the remaining sauce. Cook for another 10 minutes or until the bacon is crispy brown. Serve immediately, adding more salt to taste.

Last year when I was at the produce market, I picked up some rhubarb to make a strawberry rhubarb pie. Being me, I did not look at the recipe beforehand to see how much I would need, so I erred on the side of caution and bought several pounds. It turned out that I only needed a few stalks, so I quickly started searching for rhubarb recipes. I made strawberry rhubarb pie and strawberry rhubarb jam and then got tired of hulling strawberries. I found this rhubarb recipe in my canning book and figured it was a great way to use up both rhubarb and apples from our tree. It is deeeeeeeeelicious! I love it on pork. My husband was skeptical at first, but after he tried it on his pork chop, he reached for the jar to get seconds.

Since there are so many great rhubarb recipes and since rhubarb is expensive to buy, I planted my own rhubarb plants last year. I used one of the ginormous rhubarb stalks to make this chutney again this past weekend. We just bought our pig, so we served it on sliced ham. Absolutely delicious!

This is a recipe from a canning book and therefore implies that you know something about canning. Canning is not difficult. If you have not done it before, read this first. If you are intimidated by canning, simply ladle the chutney into containers that you can store in your freezer and thaw the chutney before use. If you do opt to can the chutney, you do not need to refrigerate or freeze the jars. They will be perfectly sealed, so you can store them in your garage just as you do your unopened jams or cans of soups.

apple rhubarb chutney

In a large stainless steel saucepan, combine the apples, sugar, rhubarb, water, zest and lemon juice. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring constantly. Reduce heat and boil gently, stirring frequently, for 15 minutes. Add the cranberries, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Boil gently, stirring frequently, until thick enough to mound on a spoon, about 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, prepare the canner, jars and lids. Fill a large pot with enough water to cover the jars. Boil the jars in the pot for a few minutes to kill any bacteria.

Ladle the hot chutney into hot jars, leaving 1/2-inch headspace. Wipe the rims of the jars with a clean, moist paper towel ensuring that the rims are perfectly smooth. Center the lid on the jars. Screw the band down until resistance is met and then increase the pressure until pretty tight.

Place the jars in the canner, ensuring that they are completely covered with water. Cover with the canner lid, bring to a boil, and boil for 10 minutes. Remove the canner lid. Wait 5 minutes, remove the jars, cool on the counter, and store. (Before you store your chutney, ensure that the lid properly sealed. Press down on the center of the lid. It should not give to your pressure and should not make a popping sound. If it does pop, the jar did not seal and cannot be stored on the counter. It will need to be refrigerated or frozen until use.)

Soon I’ll post my favorite pizza dough recipe, but the dough that I make most often is just a variation on the 5 minute bread recipe. Substitute 1/4 cup of olive oil for 1/4 cup of the water, and voila! You have 5 minute olive oil dough. The dough doesn’t have to be used just for pizza. You can form the rest of the dough into rounds of bread to be served with butter, jam, or dipped in an olive oil and balsamic vinegar sauce.

Okay, enough lollygagging… it’s time to make some pizza.

pizza with figs, prosciutto and fresh spinach

adapted from a recipe in Pizza: Grill It, Bake It, Love It!

1 recipe pizza dough (see notes in above comments)
1/2 cup pizza sauce (see accompanying recipe or use a store bought kind)
2 tbsp olive oil
6 oz fresh spinach
2 tbsp garlic, pressed
6 oz mozzarella cheese, shredded
2 oz prosciutto chopped into bite sized pieces
5 ripe figs (see note about dried figs)
1/4 tsp pepper
2 tbsp fresh rosemary, chopped
2 oz Gorgonzola or Danish Bleu Cheese (optional)

classic pizza sauce*

1 (28-ounce) can of crushed tomatoes
3 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp sugar
2 tsp dried basil
1 tsp dried oregano
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp red pepper flakes (optional)
1 garlic clove, minced

*You won’t use all of this sauce for this recipe – use what you need and freeze the rest for the next time you make pizza!

Preheat the oven to 450 with a pizza stone on the center rack. The oven will need to be preheated for at least 30 minutes before you add your pizza or else the pizza will stick to your pizza stone.

To make the sauce, combine all the ingredients and bring to a simmer. Simmer with the lid slightly ajar for at least 30 minutes, or until the sauce is a consistency you like.

If you are rehydrating dried figs, simply pour boiling water over them to cover. They’ll plump back up as you assemble the rest of your pizza.

In a large sauté pan, heat the oil over medium high heat. Add the spinach and cook until it is wilted. Add garlic and sautee until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Let cool.

Roll out your dough into a 13″-diameter circle. Sprinkle semolina flour or corn meal on a pizza peel or rimless baking tray and place your rolled-out dough on the peel. Spread sauce evenly across the dough. Top with mozzarella cheese.

Add the spinach mixture and spread evenly.  Distribute prosciutto and figs evenly across the dough. Sprinkle with rosemary and pepper and top with additional Gorgonzola or Bleu cheese if desired.

Test to ensure that the pizza is not sticking to the peel in any spots. If it is stuck, slip some more flour or cornmeal underneath the dough in those spots.

Working quickly, slide the pizza onto the pizza stone. Bake for 15-18 minutes until top is golden brown.

Let cool for 5 minutes before slicing. My parents bought us one of these for Christmas. We call it the “pizza machete,” although surely it has a more official name. Either way, it is the best way ever to cut pizza. No more struggles with the little wheel dragging my toppings all over the place! Brant’s named it “the best gift your parents have ever given me.” Like I said, we like it.

The Wongs have always been known for being a little less than traditional. Okay, so we’re just plain weird, but in a good way. We don’t have a TV and haven’t listened to the radio in ages. We seldom eat out, and, aside from Brant’s penchant for buffalo wings and an occasional hankering for Chipotle, we never eat fast food. We spend our free time playing intense strategy games, share one car, and believe that 9:30 p.m. is a perfectly normal time to sit down to dinner. As avid Costco shoppers, we have no fear of bulk buying even though there are only two of us to eat all those groceries. We don’t bat an eye at buying flour in 50 pound bags or, you know, buying an entire pig for our household consumption.

When we had our pig sent to the butcher, they asked us if we wanted just the meat or if we were also interested in “all the rest.” I was a little concerned about what “all the rest” might entail (would I get a sack of eye balls?), but at the price I was paying for this beast, I wasn’t about to let them throw anything away. And that’s how I found myself with innocently wrapped packages labeled “head” and “feet” and “fat.”

Surprisingly, I’m not a culinary adventurer. You’ll notice that most of my recipes are simply homemade versions of something you may have otherwise been tempted to buy in a box or a can, which means that there was absolutely no way that I was going to unwrap, let alone cook, that pig’s head. I struck a deal with the local produce man who was outraged at the idea that I might toss this precious cut of pork.  Sold! If he wanted to roast it and pick out bits of flesh from the jowls, be my guest. I, however, would prefer fresh fruit any day and convinced him to give me a couple baskets of strawberries as payment.

We are excited about buying another pig this year and are on a quest to prepare space in both freezers (a pig is no small purchase!). In our inventory assessment, we came across two packages labeled “fat.” That’s when I remembered that my intentions were to render the fat into lard and use that in cooking. Lard is a pretty scary word that doesn’t have too many positive associations. (I think the only positive association I can conjure up is a vision of a grandma making a Sunday dinner complete with traditional southern biscuits or cornbread. Of course, the dream grandma is also plump and probably dies of coronary issues, but that’s just a downer, so we’ll stop the daydream there.) I did a bunch of research about rendering lard and learned that lard actually has a lower saturated fat content than butter. Does this make it a health food? Not at all. However, there was hope that this had to be a better alternative to the ultra-processed Crisco that I use in my famous pie crust.

Actually, upon more reading, I found out that pigs come with two kinds of fat. There’s the fatback (layers of subcutaneous fat) and the leaf lard (fat that is entwined around the kidneys and other vital organs). The fatback can be turned into lard that is best for frying. The leaf lard is supposedly the secret to the out-of-this-world pie crust. Having nothing to compare it to, at first I was confused as to whether my lard was fatback or not, but then I saw the long, coarse pig hair that was accidentally included in the package. A closer look revealed tons of hair follicles but I tried not to think too much about this. (I like to put some distance between the fact that what I’m eating was once an intelligent animal.) This was, no doubt about it, the fat back. Even though I had requested “all the rest,” my butcher did not give me the leaf lard. I guess they assumed that it was lumped in the same category as eyeballs and brains. Have no fear: I called the butcher today and they assured me that next time I can have the leaf lard along with “all the rest.”  This makes me wonder what other special treats I’m missing out on. Hmmmm…

There are a couple well known methods for rendering the lard. Rendering lard, by the way, is a nice way of saying that we’re aiming to melt the fat, resulting in the same solids that you get if you let your bacon grease cool. My biggest concerns were smell and time. I had no desire for my house to reek of bacon grease for the next four days. I also didn’t want to stand by the stove or oven stirring something every ten minutes for hours on end. That’s how I ended up lumping strips of fat into the Crockpot with a little water, setting the heat to low, and walking away for 12-18 hours. It was easy, no fuss, and there was little likelihood of ruining it. In the end, I took my Crockpot outside because I was afraid even the slow cook method would produce a smell. I was probably being overly sensitive, but better safe than sorry.

I was asked how lard compares with butter and oils in terms of health choices. Here is a breakdown. Saturated fats are bad for you. Mono- and poly-unsaturated fats are good for you.

rendering lard

several pounds of pig fat (see notes above about the various kinds of fat), cut into strips or cubes – the smaller the pieces you have, the faster your fat will be rendered
1 cup water

Place your fat into the Crockpot, splash the water on top, and cook on low for 12-18 hours.

As it cooks, the fat will dissolve and look like calamari.

As it continues to cook, the solids will dissolve even more. You’ll know it’s done when there is lots of liquid oil and the amount of solids has greatly diminished.

You’ll still end up with some solids when you’re done, and some people fry these solids and eat them plain or in salads. They’re called cracklin‘s.

Pour the entire mass of solids and oils through a strainer into a large bowl.

Then, strain this mixture through cheesecloth into mason jars or other containers. I tried several methods of straining the mixture: paper towels (see below photo) just sucked up all the oil and sometimes broke, coffee filters were too fine and the oil took forever to filter. Cheesecloth is a perfect choice because it’s neither too fine nor too absorbent.

Pure lard without any of the solids is stable enough to remain un-refrigerated for quite some time. The more solids that get into your mixture, the more quickly your lard will go rancid. To be safe, minimize solids and refrigerate or freeze your lard.

Should you accidentally drop your lard-covered stirring spoon on the floor, have no fear. Harry will be happy to help you clean up.

Have you read this yet? If you haven’t, you’ll wonder where in the world I come up with recipes like this!

Moving to California, I had no idea the culinary changes in store for me. Pot stickers? Artichokes? Chow mien? Beef BBQ  with a sweet red sauce??? Pot stickers and artichokes are fine, but the beef BBQ was downright disappointing. Southern pork BBQ is spicy and tangy and usually served with coleslaw and, if done right, it makes you melt a bit inside. When we lived in Raleigh, my parents would often drive 40 miles to this hole-in-the-wall BBQ restaurant to buy loads of southern pork BBQ and we would eat it for weeks.

I’ve been living in California for 14 years now and I still refuse to eat California BBQ. When we bought our pig this past spring, I set aside a shoulder roast just so I could make some REAL BBQ sandwiches for my family. I tweaked the recipe I was working from and the end result was everything BBQ should be.

Note: many people find the smell of this cooking a bit overwhelming, so you may want to put your crock-pot outside. I called around while it was cooking asking, “How do I know when it’s done?” because the internal temperature suggested it was fully cooked but the meat was still tough. Both mom and my hubby suggested to just keep cooking it, so I did, and I see now that when it’s done, you’ll know for sure that it’s done because that meat will be tender and flaky and you should be able to pull it apart with two forks. If you have to ask, it’s not done.

Beef: it’s what’s for dinner. Pork: the other white meat. Most of us eat meat without much thought, and up until a year or so ago, I was lumped in with “most of us.” Then, this past December, my book club read Michael Pollan’s Omnivore’s Dilemma, an exploration of our industrial food system. Pollan starts his book explaining how the government subsidized monoculture of corn across the midwest is highly processed into an array of food products (high fructose corn syrup anyone?) or is force-fed to our born-to-eat-grass cows and other farm animals. Pollan describes the life cycle of most American cows, pigs, and poultry and the literal tortures that they face on a daily basis.

I had already read Pollan’s Power Steer article and made the shift to grass-fed beef. Before reading Omnivore’s Dilemma, I was completely unaware that pigs were so cruelly treated in the industrial food system. Did you know that pigs are highly intelligent animals that get depressed when they are held captive in close quarters? Pollan writes,

Premature weaning leaves the pigs with a lifelong craving to suck and chew, a desire they gratify in confinement by biting the tail of the animal in front of them. A normal pig would fight off his molester, but a demoralized pig has stopped caring…. A depressed pig will allow his tail to be chewed on to the point of infection. Sick pigs, being underperforming “production units,” are clubbed to death on the spot. The U.S.D.A.’s recommended solution to the problem is called “tail docking.” Using a pair of pliers (and no anesthetic), most but not all of the tail is snipped off. Why the little stump? Because the whole point of the exercise is not to remove the object of tail-biting so much as to render it more sensitive. Now, a bite on the tail is so painful that even the most demoralized pig will mount a struggle to avoid it.

Needless to say, I was powerfully affected by these facts. I vote with my money and it was time to vote for a sustainable food system. It was time to buy a pig.

I did extensive research before deciding to get my pig at Clark Summit Farm in Tomales, California. This 100% organic farm is about 90 minutes from where I live and they raise “happy” pigs, beef, and chicken.

Liz and her husband Dan run this farm as part hobby, part lifestyle, and part vocation. Liz inherited the 160-acre farm from her family and has been tending it almost daily since she was a little girl. Their farming style is unlike anything you’ll see in the industrial world.

Liz raises about 1,500 chickens that are free range by every definition of the word. These chickens were waddling with the pigs, nestled in the goat pen, strutting along the walking path, huddled near their coops and everywhere in between.

The above picture shows some of the chicken coops on the property. Liz and her husband use a tractor to slide these chickens’ houses around the property so that the chickens have fresh green pasture to eat. To keep the chickens safe from predators, they have several large dogs patrolling the area (see the middle of the right hand side of the picture). Fido’s bark is worse than his bite, but none of the predators know that!

And the cows! Have you ever seen happier, cuter cows? These cows are grass fed from the time they are born until the time they are harvested. The only time they get any grain is as a treat when Liz lures them in to be “harvested.” Liz’s goal is always to make sure that life on the farm is stress free for the animals at all times, even when it’s time to slaughter them. She hires a harvester who kills the animals on the property (no stressful moving of animals from their home to some foreign place) and transports the livestock to the local butcher. While all of this sounds disgusting, it’s a fact of life if we’re going to eat beef, pork, and chicken! At least here we knew that these animals were as happy as they could ever be.

All this talk of harvesting brings us to our purchase for the day. None of these little piglets are our chosen pig, thank goodness. Our pig had been sent to the butcher two weeks ago, so there was no need to fear getting attached to our dinner. These pigs are penned in, but their roaming area was huge. Even so, the pigs liked to huddle together for warmth and companionship. Oh, and that old adage about being as happy as a pig in s***? Liz explained that while pigs do like to frolic in the mud, they do have good hygiene given the chance. Because her pigs do have plenty of room to play, they naturally go downhill to use the bathroom and play in the mud that is uphill. This way they are not wallowing in their own waste.

One of my favorite anecdotes from the day was about a pig that Liz had lent to her son to raise in the suburbs. This pig became family, going through the dog door to use the bathroom outside and sitting around the house like any other pet would. One day the pig wanted attention, but the family was watching TV. The smart little piggy grabbed the remote control off the couch and ran out the door with it, squealing all the way as if to say, “You want it? Come get it!”

And it’s off to the butcher we go! Here are Brant, Mom, Mary Peyton, and Rocky posing with various pig parts. Brant and my mom were lucky – they got to hold the head!

Liz was such an animated story teller! Hours passed like minutes on the farm as she told us tale after tale of her animals and farming practices. All in all, my mom said it best when she noted that anyone that forewent this trip really missed out on a great opportunity. If you’re interested in grass-fed and pasture raised meat, don’t hesitate to check out Liz’s website and join her once-monthly tours. She talked to us for hours, patiently answering all our questions and showing off her animals with motherly pride. Her tours are open to the public, even if you have not purchased any of her meat. But believe me. After you visit this farm, you’ll want to support Liz and the awesome things she is doing here.

Oh, and for those of you who are interested in knowing the costs, my whole pig ended up costing $800 and weighed in at roughly 145 pounds of various pork cuts. Cheap? No. But worth it? Absolutely.

To see even more pictures, click here!