I came to enjoy a type of convenience frozen pizza in the early 1990’s while in residence at university; of course I enjoyed them then, and continue to occasionally enjoy them to this day. However, what really fascinated me was how the manufacturer managed to produce what amounted to a bun stuffed with a filling, in this case pizza toppings, without an apparent seam or other apparent entry point for the contents (such as the small hole one would see on the size of a jelly doughnut). While said fascination remained, it was not strong enough for me to actually try to figure it out.
Fast forward to late 2023, and a snacks table offered bierocks (here’s my archive), which immediately caught my attention. Before I even picked one up and looked at it, including inpecting its bottom, I immediately realized how they had been made. I definitely ate some, and asked the person who had made them for the recipe. Due to delays in setting up a cooking lesson with said person, I eventually just followed the recipe instead of waiting to be shown how to make them.
(And, I am assuming, the manufacturer of the commercial pizza treats uses some kind of mechanical method analogous to the relevant section(s) below, or, a precisely timed continuous dual extrusion system that minimizes seams, and in either case a dough recipe tuned to be susceptible to the process; ultimately, whichever process is used appears to assure that the edges stay sealed, and the filled units are moved along an Archemides’ screw or the like to the next step, in such a way that smooths out any seams.)
Note that in the following narrative, while the photos are principally from a single session, a few are from two other sessions in order to complete the narrative.
Making the bierocks:
One of the common ingredients in bierocks is chopped cabbage; so cabbage was taken out:
A piece of cabbage was cut off to make chopping easier:
The cabbage was chopped up somewhere between coarsely to finely:
As the cabbage was chopped, it was placed in a bowl:
I continued to chop cabbage, and froze the excess for future use, since a typical cabbage is far larger than the roughly half pound needed for this recipe.
In the case of this session, frozen cabbage from a previous chopping session was used; as such, a plate was placed on a kitchen scale, and the latter set to zero, so as to only be measuring the cabbage:
About half a pound (about 227g) of frozen chopped cabbage was placed in the bowl:
The cabbage was put aside in order to allow it to defrost.
Frozen ground beef was taken out, and weighed to make sure that the appropriate amount of two pounds (911g) would be used:
The ground beef was put aside to allow it to defrost.
The basket from my bread machine was taken out and cleaned:
Six ounces of water were measured out:
The water was placed in the microwave oven (1100 watts) …
… and heated for 45 seconds.
The warmed water was poured into the bread machine basket:
Eggs were taken out:
The eggs were cracked into the bread machine basket with the warmed water:
Flour and a measuring cup were taken out:
The measured out flour was transferred to the bread machine with the warmed water and the eggs:
Sugar and measuring spoons were taken out:
Six tablespoons of sugar were measured out …
… and transferred to the bread machine basket with the water, eggs, and flour:
Salt and measuring spoons were taken out:
The salt was measured out and transferred to the bread machine basket with the water, eggs, flour, and sugar:
Oil and a measuring cup were taken out:
The oil was measured out (oops twice as much as I should have used):
The oil was transferred to the bread machine basket with the water, eggs, flour, sugar, and salt:
A little note at this point: Since this recipe calls for using a bread machine, I strongly recommend using bread machine yeast; standard bread yeast behaves differently — although not necessarily badly — and in a bread machine, will produce a strong yeasty odour and taste, no doubt due to different timing required for it to act properly. Should you be making bread dough another way, including using standard bread yeast, of course I do not have any advice on that front. 🙂
Bread machine yeast and measuring spoons were taken out:
Two teaspoons of bread machine yeast were measured out:
The bread machine yeast was added to the bread machine basket with the water, eggs, flour, sugar, salt, and oil:
The bread machine basket with all the ingredients was placed in the bread machine, and the unit was set to the dough only cycle, which in the case of my bread machine is setting #8, with a cycle time of 1h30:
The bread machine was turned on:
While the bread machine was preparing the dough, baking trays were taken out:
Parchment paper was taken out:
Sheets of parchment paper were cut off the roll and placed on the baking sheets:
The baking sheets were put aside for later.
An electric frypan was taken out:
The electric frypan was plugged in, and the ground beef was placed in the electric frypan:
The chopped cabbage was placed in the electric frypan:
Salt was added to the electric frypan:
An onion was taken out and weighed to be sure it was enough (“about” a quarter pound of chopped onion in the end):
The onion was placed on the cutting board:
The onion was trimmed:
The onion was cut in half:
The onion half was sliced into half coins:
The onion slices were chopped:
The rest of the onion was chopped, and the chopped onion was transferred to the electric frypan, and the ground beef was cut up with an egg flipper:
The ground beef was broken up further, and the ground beef, cabbage, and onions were mixed together:
Cheese was weighed out:
The cheese was grated:
The grated cheese was transferred to a bowl, and put aside for later:
Once the meat mix was cooked, the electric frypan was unplugged:
At this point, I took out a large serving plate and a kitchen knife in anticipation of the bread machine dough cycle completing:
The bread machine finished its dough cycle:
At this point, I started to preheat the oven, set to 350F, and one of the racks was placed in the top position (photo taken after preheating):
The dough was taken out of the bread machine basket:
At this point, to get 24 roughly similarly sized balls of dough, I am using what I call the “Jamie Oliver Method” because I saw Jamie Oliver use this method on one of his shows with bread dough:
Cut the dough in half (2 pieces);
Cut each half into three pieces (2 x 3 = 6 pieces);
Cut each “third of a half” into four pieces (6 x 4 = 24).
I concede that Jamie Oliver would have you roll the dough into a long log first to further help with estimating making the sizes relatively even.
The dough was cut in half:
One of the dough halves was cut in three:
One of the pieces was cut in four:
The rest of the bread dough pieces were cut up, resulting in 25 pieces, which eventually were reduced to 24 pieces:
A bread dough pieces was placed on the cutting board, and flattened and stretched out:
Some shredded cheese was placed in the centre of the piece of flattened bread dough:
Some cooked meat mix was placed on top of the shredded cheese on the piece of flattened bread dough:
I began to stretch the edges of the flattened bread dough, pulling them together and covering the filling:
All of the edges were brought together and the edges were pinched together:
The resulting ball of stuffed bread dough was placed on the parchment paper on one of the trays, pinched edges face down:
The process was repeated with more pieces of bread dough and more cooked meat mix and shredded cheese:
The process was continued until there were 24 units:
Margarine, a bowl, and a spoon were taken out:
The empty bowl was placed on the kitchen scale, which was set to zero:
Margarine was weighed out, about five tablespoons’ worth, in the area of about 70g to 73g:
The bowl of margarine was placed in the microwave oven (1100 watts):
The microwave oven was set to 15 seconds:
The margarine was partly melted:
The microwave oven was set again for 15 seconds, and the margarine was mostly melted:
A food brush was used to brush the melted margarine on to the bierocks …
… until all units had been basted and all the melted margarine had been used:
The trays of bierocks were placed in the oven:
The stove timer was set to 22 minutes:
Cooling racks were taken out while the bierocks were baking:
Pot holders were taken out:
At about halfway through the baking, the trays with the bierocks were rotated back to front within the oven:
At the end of the baking period, I turned on the broiler to brown the tops of the bierocks:
… and the oven timer was set to two minutes:
Here’s a photo of the bierocks as they were browning under the broiler:
After the two minutes under the broiler, the bierocks were taken out of the oven:
The bierocks were transferred to the cooling racks:
A bierock was picked up to check the bottom where the pinched edges of the dough had been brought together to show how it baked (but … not seamlessly! 🙂 )
I bit into the fresh bierock … yummy!
A bierock was placed on a cutting board with a kitchen knife:
The bierock was cut into four pieces:
Several bierocks were cut up into quarters, because bierock pieces have become part of my usual breakfasts:
… and the cut up bierocks were placed in a freezer bag for freezing:
The bag of bierock pieces was placed in a freezer for future eating as part of my daily breakfasts.
This past weekend, my brother decided to play around with the Google NotebookLM podcast generator, using my recent post about making yoghurt muffins as the podcast topic source material.
Here are the results: “Podcast 1“, the first one I listened to and chuckled at throughout (see below), and “Podcast 2“, which is longer than the first, and a slightly different approach (again, see below).
As a reference, according to Wikipedia (here’s my archive), NotebookLM is a tool by Google that has an “audio summary” feature has the “ability to condense complex documents into engaging podcasts”. As referenced in the article, some of the generated podcasts have indeed been making the rounds on at least the media local to me; the samples played on the radio had the “voices” of two artificial “hosts”, one male and one female, and appeared to greatly impress the real radio host. The real human host on the radio then proceeded to create their own samples with the tool using local news items as source material, resulting in stunningly … seemingly accurate (or at least faithful to the source material) content and banter between the two artificial “hosts”. The voices — and banter — of the artificial “hosts” that were created sounded so real that the “hosts” did not sound obviously artificial in almost any, let alone many, of the usual ways that usually betray the artificiality or synthetic nature of the voices. “They” seemed to bypass the Uncanny Valley (here’s my archive) as well, if only because they weren’t associated with artificially-created “speaking” faces or other cues that might suggest that “they” were artificial.
To wit: My brother came up with two podcasts: Podcast1, and Podcast2, based on the blog page about the yoghurt muffins: The first podcast was roughly what I would have expected, based on the samples I’d heard on the radio, in the form of “entertaining” banter from the artificial “hosts” about the overall post and subject, while the second podcast followed a play-by-play style review of the post and its pictures.
Especially while listening to the first, I was often incredulously guffawing at how “seriously” they seemed to be taking the subject, to the point of “their” calling me a perfectionist; despite, uhm, seriously having approached mounting the post with its pictures and processing the photos for presentation, as well as of course maintaining my recipe archive, and again of course being fairly serious on a hobby level about my cooking, for the overall cooking project I have always had a certain laid back, “enjoying the fun” pleasure to mounting the posts. Which, I must admit, intentionally include a lot of photos detailing usually every last step and even micro-step. I would estimate that the “hosts” got it better in the second podcast by calling me meticulous.
The end result of the two podcasts is so good that except for the knowledge that it’s totally AI generated, I would actually believe that the podcast was hosted by real people and put together by real people providing real feedback. As such, I have a few responses to some of the “comments” that the “hosts” made:
I am flattered in a giggly kind of way that the “hosts” underlined the dirty oven window, which I myself had somewhat sheepishly admitted was the case in the original post;
The “hosts” seem to enthusiastically say it’s like a scientific document with no room for error; I would challenge anyone to compare the blog post against the recipe and say that the two are identical. 🙂
For the record: I did not lick the spoon. 🙂
The “hosts” spoke of how much care I took by freezing them … well, I will go into the “easy” column and say both that baking a half batch or a double batch is roughly as easy as a standard batch, and, that I often try to make recipes that are good for the freezer!
And finally … the “hosts”, in a tongue-in-cheek fashion, pretty much suggested that I make a blog post on making the morning coffee, which I may just do sometimes in the future. 🙂
The “hosts” asked what does “easy” mean in my claim that the muffins are easy to make, such as is it the number of ingredients, the technique, or the cleanup? “They” initially conclude “Let’s find out!” “They” then go on to point out that the use of the paper liners, and the reuse of the measuring cup used to measure out the yoghurt to then measure out the oil without cleaning it in between, as examples of the “easy” part.
The “hosts” seem to insinuate at a couple of points that the amounts of sugar and oil used are “generous”, while of course continuing to state that the muffins’ crumb would no doubt be rather moist as a result; yet, when discussing the presence of the yoghurt, the “hosts” wondered whether the yoghurt muffins were just an alternative to the bran muffins I make for my mom, but ultimately seemed to decide that it was obviously a “health angle”. I perceived this as a lack of continuity in the “creation” of the podcast. And to be clear, having adopted this recipe was simply meant to be an alternative to the bran muffins I give to my mom, which is clearly stated at the beginning of the post; further, I am not trying to “match” the sweetness of bran muffins.
The “hosts” say that the kind of yoghurt I use is not identified, ie. firm yoghurt, stirred yoghurt, or greek yoghurt, etc.; “they” are correct that the tub does not say so, at least in the view in the picture. However, “they” do read into it by saying that this lack of information is part of the “easy” claim by letting people trying the recipe to use what they have on hand. Also, “they” did not pick up on the strawberry on the tub as an example of how the “relatively plain” was intentionally a loose interpretation.
The “hosts” say that the kind of oil I used was not identified; again, the photo of the jug plainly says “vegetable oil”, which should tell all bakers that it’s generic vegetable-based cooking oil.
Is this a fun tool? Sure. My brother and I have bandied about ideas — purely in the hypothetical — about using the tool to create large numbers of podcasts that could then be syndicated to AM radio stations for the overnight slot during which a lot of content is often recycled or of what we consider to be of dubious interest.
These easy to make muffins are fairly straightforward, tasty, and, despite being labeled as “plain”, the term is used somewhat loosely since the yoghurt used may be any kind of flavoured yoghurt, which will come across lightly but distinctly in the final product. As well, small amounts of fruits or other flavouring agents could be added without substantial changes.
A tray of muffin moulds, and correspondingly sized paper liners, were taken out:
The moulds were each lined with paper muffin liners:
The lined baking tray was put aside, and a mixing bowl, a spoon, and a fork were taken out:
Flour and a measuring cup were taken out:
The measuring cup was filled with flour:
The flour was transferred to the mixing bowl:
Sugar was taken out, and the measuring cup was taken out again:
Sugar was measured out:
The sugar was transferred to the mixing bowl with the flour:
Baking powder and measuring spoons were taken out:
Baking powder was measured out:
The baking powder was added to the flour and sugar in the mixing bowl:
Salt and measuring spoons were taken out:
Salt was measured out:
The salt added to the flour, sugar, and baking powder:
Using the fork, the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt were thoroughly mixed:
A tub of yoghurt and a measuring cup were taken out:
Yoghurt was measured out:
The yoghurt was transferred to the bowl with the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt:
Vegetable oil was taken out, and the measuring cup used for the yoghurt was reused, without needing to clean it since I’d only just used it moments before for the yoghurt :
The vegetable oil was measured out:
The vegetable oil was transferred to the bowl with the flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and yoghurt:
Eggs were taken out:
The eggs were cracked into the bowl with the flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, yoghurt, and vegetable oil:
All the ingredients were mixed together with a spoon:
… creating a thick paste dough:
The muffin mould tray prepared earlier was taken out:
The dough was spooned into the paper muffin moulds:
The filled muffin tray was placed in the preheated oven:
A timer was set to 21 minutes:
Looking through the oven window (which admittedly could use a cleaning!), the muffins began to rise:
While the muffins were baking, cooling racks were taken out:
After the timer ran out and the muffins had baked, the muffins were taken out of the oven, and the tray placed on a cutting board:
The muffins were transferred from the muffin tray moulds to the cooling racks to cool down:
A yummy fresh muffin was served to my mom with another mini-muffin, with the paper linings removed:
… and the rest of the cooled muffins were placed in a sealable freezer bag, to be placed in the freezer:
This decadently rich and scrumptious dessert is another relatively new addition to my collection of recipes. Mom loves it!
Making the squares:
Before beginning, some cream cheese was taken out of the fridge and put on the counter to warm up to room temperature:
Parchment paper and an 8″ baking pan were taken out:
A parchment paper larger than the baking pan was torn off the roll …
… and the baking pan was lined with the parchment paper, with a little bit left over the edges of the pan:
The pan was put aside for a few moments, and a countertop convection oven was set to 325F and turned on:
Graham cracker crumbs were taken out:
A cup and a half of graham cracker crumbs were measured out:
The graham cracker crumbs were transferred to a mixing bowl:
Margarine was taken out:
Margarine was scooped out of the tub:
The margarine was placed in a bowl, previously placed on the scale and the tare set to zero:
The margarine was melted in the microwave oven, 15 seconds at a time:
Once fully melted, the margarine was taken out of the microwave oven:
The melted margarine was poured over the graham cracker crumbs in the mixing bowl:
An electric blender was taken out and used to fully mix the graham cracker crumbs and the melted margarine:
The baking pan with the parchment paper lining was brought back and the fully blended graham cracker crumbs and melted margarine were transferred to the baking pan.
The graham cracker mix was flattened with an egg flipper:
The baking pan with the graham cracker crust was placed in the pre-heated countertop oven:
A timer was set for six minutes:
While the graham cracker crust was baking, a cooling rack was taken out (and placed on my stove):
After baking for six minutes, the graham cracker crust was taken out of the oven and placed on the cooling rack:
Another bowl was placed in the scale and the tare set to zero:
More margarine was taken out and measured out:
The mixing bowl had been washed while the graham cracker base was baking, and the margarine was transferred to the mixing bowl:
Brown sugar and a measuring cup were taken out:
The brown sugar was measured out:
The brown sugar was transferred to the mixing bowl with the margarine:
Table sugar and a measuring spoon were taken out:
Table sugar was measured out and poured into the mixing bowl with the brown sugar and margarine:
Salt was taken out and measured out:
The salt was added to the mixing bowl with the two kinds of sugar and margarine:
Vanilla extract and a measuring spoon were taken out:
The vanilla extract was measured out and added to the mixing bowl with the two kinds of sugar, margarine, and salt:
Flour and a measuring cup were taken out:
The flour was measured out:
The flour was transferred to the bowl with the two kinds of sugar, margarine, salt, and vanilla extract:
Two kinds of chocolate chips were taken out:
Half a cup of milk chocolate chips were measured out:
… and half a cup of semi-sweet chocolate chips were measured out:
The chocolate chips were added to the mixing bowl with the other ingredients:
A hand held electric mixer was taken out and the ingredients mixed to make a powdery dough:
The cookie dough was transferred to another bowl and put aside:
The package of cream cheese placed on the counter earlier to warm up to room temperature was taken out and opened with a pair of scissors:
The cream cheese was transferred to the mixing bowl, the latter of which again was washed in between mixing jobs.
The table sugar was taken out again and measured out:
The table sugar was transferred to the mixing bowl with the cream cheese:
The electric mixer was taken out again to cream the cream cheese and table sugar together:
Eggs were taken out:
The egg was cracked into the bowl with the cream cheese and sugar:
Vanilla extract was taken out again:
The vanilla extract was measured out and was added to the bowl with the cream cheese, sugar, and egg:
The egg and vanilla extract were mixed into the cream cheese and sugar:
The now-cooled graham cracker crumb base was taken out:
The cream cheese mix was transferred on top of the graham cracker crumb crust:
The cream cheese mix was spread evenly over the graham cracker crumb crust:
The chocolate chip cookie dough was taken out:
A bit of the cookie dough was picked up in my hand …
… and the ball of dough was flattened between my two hands:
The flattened cookie dough was placed on top of the cream cheese mix:
… and repeated with more cookie dough:
… until all the cookie dough was used and the whole surface of the cream cheese mix was covered:
The baking pan was placed in the still-hot countertop convection oven:
A timer was set for 30 minutes:
After the 30-minute baking period, the baking pan was taken out of the oven and placed on a cooling rack:
Once the dessert had cooled enough, it was removed from the baking pan using the edges of the parchment paper:
The dessert was first cut in half:
The dessert was cut into quarters:
The dessert was rotated 90 degrees, and sliced just left of centre (so that it can be cut five ways):
The slicing of dessert was completed (five slices along this axis), making twenty (20) pieces:
I picked up making stewed rhubarb because my mom always liked using the rhubarb grown in her garden to make stewed rhubarb and rhubarb chutney. (Ironically, for this post, and often enough, I use rhubarb purchased from the grocery store!)
Note that this recipe effectively needs to be done over two days, or at least with a pause of several hours (roughly equivalent to a minimum of “overnight” ) between preparing the rhubarb, and beginning to stew the rhurbarb.
Note that I also am using the “packing in mason jars and heat-processing” method to preserve the stewed rhubarb, and to allow for the making of larger amounts of stewed rhubarb at once; once the heat-processed jars have cooled, the stewed rhubarb is ready to eat.
Making the Stewed Rhubarb:
Day one:
After buying some rhubarb at the grocery store, some mise-en-place was done by taking out a cutting board, a mixing bowl, a measuring cup, a kitchen knife, and a kitchen scale:
To avoid confusion a bit later on, the tare weight of the mixing bowl was measured and noted (instead of using the tare function on the kitchen scale):
The rhubarb purchased earlier was taken out (yes, it is a bit shabby!)
The elastics and labels were removed from the rhubarb bunches:
I began to wash and rinse the rhubarb:
The rinsed rhubarb stalks were brought to the cutting board:
The rhubarb stalks were trimmed:
The trimmings were placed in a kitchen waste bucket for later disposal in a municipal composting programme:
If the rhubarb isn’t completely fresh, or especially typical (in my experience) for commercial rhubarb purchased at the grocery store, sometimes there is some minor damage to the stalks to be removed:
The stalk damage was removed (and while my name can be found on my — this — website in several places, I have blacked it out from my knife, on which I had inscribed my name years ago):
The trimmed rhubarb stalks were piled up …
… and the rhubarb stalks were rinsed again to remove the last of the bits:
Some stalks were laid on the cutting board for chopping:
The rhubarb stalks were chopped using a slicing motion against the grain:
As chopped rhubarb started piling up on the chopping board, it was transferred to the mixing bowl:
The rest of the rhubarb was chopped, and transferred to the mixing bowl as it was produced:
The bowl of chopped rhubarb was placed on the kitchen scale and weighed:
The weight was noted, to be used in a moment:
A large pot and wooden mixing spoon were taken out:
The chopped rhubarb was transferred to the pot:
A calculator app was started, and the net weight of chopped rhubarb was calculated by subtracting the bowl tare weight from the weight of the bowl filled with the chopped rhubarb:
Since my recipe is based on the Imperial system, the weight of 0.895kg (above) was converted to pounds, giving a result just barely shy of two pounds of chopped rhubarb:
Next, a multiplication factor for how many “recipe units” was calculated by dividing the weight of the chopped rhubarb by the base amount of three quarters of a pound:
The multiplication factor was multiplied by the required amount of sugar and lemon juice for per “recipe unit” of 3/4 lb of chopped rhubarb: Half a cup of sugar, and half an ounce of lemon juice, resulting in 1-1/3 cups of sugar, and 1-1/3 ounces of lemon juice:
Sugar and a measuring cup were taken out:
Sugar was measured out:
The sugar was poured onto the chopped rhubarb:
The chopped rhubarb and sugar were mixed with the wooden spoon:
Lemon juice was measured out:
Extra sugar was added to the lemon juice:
The lemon juice and extra sugar were mixed:
The lemon juice and sugar mix were added to the chopped rhubarb and sugar:
The chopped rhubarb, sugar, and lemon juice were mixed some more:
A lid was placed on the pot of rhubarb, sugar, and lemon juice:
The pot of chopped rhubarb, sugar, and lemon juice was placed in a fridge overnight:
Day two:
Early the next morning, I checked on the pot of chopped rhubarb:
As can be sort of be seen above and better in the following photo, a good amount of liquid had been drawn by the sugar from the pieces of chopped rhubarb:
The chopped rhubarb was mixed again with a spoon:
The pot of chopped rhubarb was returned to the fridge until later that evening (after coming home from work.)
That evening, a jar wrench, a jar funnel, tongs, a ladle, and a stainless steel flipper were taken out:
Mason jars, a few more than I expected to need, and new lids and lid rings, were taken out, but kept aside for the moment:
A pot and trivet were taken out, to act as a boiling water bath soon:
The trivet was placed in the bottom of the pot:
The pot was filled with water:
The pot of water was placed on a burner on the stove:
The stove was turned on:
… and the lid was placed back on the pot:
Since I had placed the pot of water on a smaller burner, which proved to be a mistake, I still waited a bit before taking out the pot of chopped rhubarb, sugar, and lemon juice, and placing it on the stove:
After waiting a bit more, having gauged the heating up of the pot of water, the burner under the chopped rhubarb mix was turned on:
The lid on the pot of chopped rhubarb mix was removed:
As the rhubarb mix was heating up, I of course mixed it to avoid burning:
The rhubarb mix began to boil:
At this point, the rhubarb mix was taken off the burner, and since the water bath had not yet reached the boiling point, I brought it forward to the larger burner to bring it to a boil more quickly:
Fortunately, it was obvious that the water bath was “hot enough” to dip the (clean) bottle funnel to sanitize it:
The bottle funnel was placed in the neck of a jar:
The ladle was dipped in the hot water to sanitize it:
I started ladling the boiled rhubarb mix into the jar until it was filled:
A lid and ring were brought to the jar, and screwed onto the jar (oops, I forgot to take a picture of this second part):
The rest of the boiled rhubarb mix was transferred into jars, and lids were screwed onto the jars:
At this point, the water in the water bath was finally starting to boil:
Using the jar wrench, the filled jars were transferred to the water bath:
Once the water had come to a rolling boil …
… a timer was set to 15 minutes …
… and the lid was placed back on the pot with the water bath and filled jars:
At this point, the water was boiling so vigorously, that water was splashing out of the pot!
After 15 minutes had elapsed, the filled jars were removed from the water bath using the jar wrench:
The now heat-processed jars were placed on the the cutting board:
Hot water collecting on the jars was soaked up with a towel:
The jars were moved apart from each other to allow for some ambient cooling for a few moments:
Then, the still-warm jars were moved to a fridge to complete cooling.
At this point, I changed tack a bit and printed out some labels for the jars, modifying another label template I have for my pickled eggs:
Scissors, a hole punch, and some elastics were taken out:
Four labels were cut from the sheet:
A date code (in this case for 09 August, 2023, the day I filled and processed the jars) was written on the back / inside of each label:
The labels were folded over onto themselves:
I should note at this point at which the print is more legible, that I live in Montreal, where French predominates, hence the labels are in both English and French. As it happened in the picture above, the folded labels with the English showing were upside down because that’s how I inadvertently happened to flip them over. 🙂
I then picked up the labels, piled them one on another, and crimped the folds:
A hole was punched through the labels on the end opposite to the fold:
On each individual label, the end near the hole was folded over:
Ah here, the English labels are right side up. 🙂
An elastic was threaded through the hole of a label:
The elastic was looped into itself, and loosely tightened to allow for it to at once hold the label, as well as have a loop to use to go around a jar’s neck:
… which was repeated for the other three labels:
The following morning, the cooled (and fully sealed) jars were removed from the fridge, and brought to the workspace where the labels were:
Labels were looped around the jars:
These jars will be kept to be donated to my church’s fall fair, along with a few jars of my pickled eggs! (And, Mom will receive any which don’t sell. 🙂 )
This post is a bit of a gratuitous post to pass the time during my holidays, while showing a bit how I leverage freezers as useful tools for day to day cooking and eating, and highlight how, beyond the strictly obvious (or conversely, as an example of the obvious, whichever you prefer 🙂 ), my cooking efforts actually do fit into and serve everyday life — literally!
Yes, the breakfast shown at the end of this post is a very typical daily breakfast for me these days, barring the days, often on weekends or holidays, when I might choose to make other breakfast foods from my collection of recipes (or of course, something else completely.)
After coming home from the store and having bought bagels and a cream cheese spread flavoured with “herbs” and roasted garlic, I took out a cutting board:
A bagel slicer, basically a serrated edge attached to a wooden guide, and a table knife, were taken out:
A bag of commercially produced bagels, purchased earlier in the day, was taken out:
The bag clip was taken off the bag in order to open the bag of bagels:
The bagels were taken out of the bag:
The empty bag was kept and put aside:
A bagel was sliced (be careful, some industrially produced bagels may be partly pre-sliced):
… and the rest of the bagels were sliced:
A 227g (8oz) container of a commercially prepared cream cheese spread, in this case flavoured with “herbs” and roasted garlic, purchased earlier in the day, was taken out:
The lid was removed from the cream cheese container …
… and the plastic seal was also removed from the container:
The knife was used to pick up some of the cream cheese:
A couple of bagel halves were placed on the cutting board, and the knife holding the cream cheese was brought to them …
… and cream cheese was spread on one of the bagel halves:
The two bagel halves were put back together:
Cream cheese was spread on a few more bagels, and after spreading cream cheese on half of the bagels, the container was about half empty:
I continued to spread cream cheese on the rest of the bagels; I scraped the last of the cream cheese out of the container, and I spread the last of the cream cheese onto the last of the six bagels:
At this point, all six bagels were filled with cream cheese:
At this point, a clean knife was taken out, and a bagel was cut at a single point:
… and then the bagel was cut in two other places, resulting in three pieces:
The bagel pieces were placed back in the bag:
… and as I continued cutting up the rest of the bagels, I placed the bagel pieces in the bag:
… until all the bagel pieces were in the bag:
A tie wrap was taken out:
The tie wrap was used to seal up the bag again:
The bag of bagel and cream cheese pieces was placed in the freezer:
The next morning, I took out a bagel and cream cheese bite, and defrosted it along with a mini raisin bran muffin, made earlier in the week using my mom’s bran muffin recipe, a pickled egg, some cheese, and some peanut butter scooped from the jar:
Incidentally, while this page follows the preparation of beer from beer concentrate kits, the process is almost identical for making wine from wine concentrate kits.
The photos shown below cover a period of nine weeks, starting in early March, 2023, through to bottling the beer three weeks later at the very end of March, and taste testing the beer about six weeks after that — nine weeks total — in mid May, 2023. Normally, my “official” answer to “How long does it take to make beer?” is “A minimum of six weeks. Don’t believe the instructions when they say two, or three, or four weeks. Just don’t.” (Wine from kits takes about eight to nine weeks minimum.)
Making the beer:
The following is showing a very detailed progression of making beer using two kinds of beer concentrates, a blonde beer, and a brown ale. The narrative of this page will be primarily following the preparation of the blonde beer.
Day one:
First, a couple of kinds of beer concentrate kits were purchased, for a brown ale, and for a blonde beer.
Since beer concentrate kits often do not contain fermentable sugars, 1kg bags of dextrose were also purchased at the same time; in this case, about a bag per batch will be used, to produce a bit less than 5% alc/vol given the amount of beer I will be making (although I am not particular at all on this point beyond not wanting the alcohol content to be significantly different either way.)
Having brought the beer concentrates and dextrose home, the first thing I did was take out a beer from a previously brewed batch of beer:
The beer was poured into the glass:
… and the beer was enjoyed:
On to making new beer:
The aerator on the tap in the laundry tub was removed:
A five (imperial) gallon water jug was placed under the tap:
The water was turned on, and the jug filled with water …
While the jug was filling with water, a plastic cloth was laid out on the floor:
A fermentation bin was taken out (incidentally, the original bin I bought back in late 1990 when I started making wine):
A large stirring spoon, pliers, a large spoon, and a can opener, were taken out:
The now-filled water container was brought out to the plastic cloth:
A kettle was filled with water …
… the kettle was plugged in …
… and finally the kettle was turned on:
A jet washer was taken out …
… and the jet washer was attached to the tap in the laundry tub:
The tap was turned on again:
The aforementioned fermentation bin was brought to the laundry tub …
… then the fermentation bin was placed over the jet washer …
… and I used a finger to activate the jet washer to rinse out the (previously cleaned) fermentation bin:
At this point, I took advantage of the moment to jetwash the emptied beer bottle from earlier:
… which was then placed in the dishwasher along with my other dishes, to clean for future bottling purposes (see later on).
Scissors were taken out:
The scissors were used to open a bag of dextrose:
The full contents of a bag of dextrose were poured into the fermentation bin, which was brought back to the plastic cloth:
A can of beer concentrate, for the blonde beer, and the can opener, were taken out.
The plastic top was removed from the can, revealing a yeast packet and the kit’s instructions.
The yeast packet was taken out …
… as were the instructions:
Note that while I generally follow the instructions, I apply my own fine tuned procedures. 🙂
The can opener was used to open the can of beer concentrate:
A spoon was used to remove the top of the can:
… and the top of the can was finally properly removed:
The viscous beer concentrate was poured into the fermentation bin:
The spoon was used to scrape out the rest of the concentrate from the can:
The kettle of water, while still hot, was reboiled, and boiling water was poured into the can:
The hot can was picked up with the pliers …
The hot water was swirled around in the can to dissolved the last of the concentrate from the can walls, and the water was poured out and into the fermentation bin:
The rest of the boiling water was poured into the fermentation bin:
The large plastic stirring spoon was quickly rinsed under the tap at the laundry tub:
The spoon was brought to the fermentation bin:
… and the hot water, beer concentrate, and dextrose were thoroughly mixed:
The plastic tap placed on the water jug was removed:
The water in the jug was poured into the fermentation bin with the other ingredients:
At this point, all the ingredients are called wort (pronounced “wurt”), and the wort was mixed with the big plastic spoon:
The temperature on the thermometer stuck onto the side of the fermentation bin was checked, and the wort temperature had not yet risen come up to fermentation range (one of the temperature ranges would be highlighted were it the case):
Despite this, and knowing that the water temperature was below optimum range, as opposed to too warm and dangerous to yeast, the yeast packet was taken out:
The yeast packet was cut open with scissors:
The yeast was pitched into the wort (ie. sprinkled onto the surface of the unfermented beer):
The wort with the yeast was lightly stirred, in order to moisten the yeast and reactivate it:
A plastic shopping bag — in fact, one of the bags I’d received when the beer kits had been purchased earlier in the afternoon — was taken out:
The bag was partially cut so as to allow it to be used as a cover for the fermentation bin:
Elastics and paper clips were taken out:
Elastics were looped together:
The ends of the looped elastics were joined together with a paper clip to make a “belt”:
The plastic bag was placed on top of the fermentation bin, covering the wort:
The elastic loop was wrapped around the plastic sheet to keep it in place on the top of fermentation bin:
At this point, I had to clear the bar so that I could place the fermentation bin, full of wort, on it:
A chair was placed beside the bar, so as to help in raising the heavy fermentation bin full of wort:
The heavy fermentation bin full of wort was lifted off the floor and onto the chair, in order to allow me to get a better hold on the bin while lifting it up to the level of the bar:
The fermentation bin full of wort was then lifted up to the level of the bar:
… and finally, the fermentation bin full of wort was moved to the end of the bar, against the wall:
The instructions, principally used as piece of paper on which to identify the type of beer in the fermentation bin, were placed within the elastic loop:
The whole process was repeated for the brown ale beer kit, and producing a second identified fermentation bin filled with wort, placed beside the first bin:
Day two:
Fourteen hours later (the following morning), I peeked into the fermentation bins, and could see signs of the beginnings of fermentation:
That evening, after about 27 hours had passed, the wort temperature was checked again, and it was barely up to 68F:
… and, at the same time, I peeked again at the wort, noticing more yeast growth:
Day three:
After about 39 hours, I peeked once again at the wort, and the yeast was bubbling away:
Day six:
After six days, secondary fermentors were taken out; in this case, a large five gallon plastic bottle, a one gallon jar, and, just in case, a soda bottle for last little bits:
The jet washer was again installed on the tap in the laundry tub:
The secondary fermentors were rinsed out with the jet washer:
Racking equipment — items used to transfer the now-fermenting liquid easily — were taken out: Plastic tubing, a stiff plastic racking cane, a cone shaped holder to hold the racking cane (including this item was an oops, since I wouldn’t be needing it on this day), and a clip to hold the plastic tubing in place on the edge of the secondary fermentor:
The racking tubes were rinsed with water:
The secondary fermentors were placed on the floor of the bar next to where the fermenting beer was located:
The racking tube was placed in the fermentation bin with the fermenting beer, and leading all the way down to the floor where the secondary fermentors were placed:
The flow of liquid beer was started by sucking on the end of the flexible section of the racking tubing (avoiding to leave any spit!), which was then secured in the neck of the secondary fermentor using the black clip, allowing for the flow of beer from above down below:
Here is the neck of the racking tube in the fermentation bin, with beer flowing through down to the secondary fermentor:
And here’s a photo of the secondary fermentor as it was filling with fermenting beer:
At a certain point when the secondary fermentor was almost full, foam formed up to the top of the secondary fermentor …
… and the racking tubing was transferred to the gallon jug:
At this point, I should explain that during the primary fermentation, the fermentation was sufficiently vigorous to avoid air getting back in, while during secondary fermentation and the following period during which solids drop to the bottom of the secondary fermentor, the rate of gas production is insufficient to protect the beer from oxidation and contamination from the air outside the fermentor.
Therefore, airlocks, plugs for the secondary fermentors which allow gas — in this case, carbon dioxide produced by the yeast fermenting the dextrose into alcohol — to escape the secondary fermentors while keeping air from getting back in, were taken out:
Airlocks were filled with water:
Water-filled airlocks were fitted onto the now-filled secondary fermentors, which were raised up to the level of the bar:
At the bottom of the fermentation bin, there was a sediment of dead and dying yeast:
The fermentation bin was brought to the laundry tub, and the sediment was drained out:
The fermentation bin was washed and rinsed with the jetwasher and a rag (not shown):
The airlock was already bubbling at this point:
The whole process was repeated for the other beer, the brown ale, and at this point, a second set of identified secondary fermentors filled with beer was placed beside the first set of secondary fermentors:
Day nine:
At this point, sediments had formed in the secondary fermentors:
You should start this now if you haven’t already:
Normally, I have a collection of cleaned and de-labeled beer bottles in storage. Should you not have an adequate number of bottles for bottling your beer — 23 litres requires about 66 or thereabouts 341mL bottles, or equivalent — by now you should begin collecting them.
Normally, I get beer bottles from city streets; as I am walking about in the streets, I am continuously on the lookout for empty beer bottles to reuse for my beer; fortunately for brewers like myself, but in more general terms unfortunately, in the general area where I live, they are far more common and abundant than I might want to admit, and, surprisingly, most are in excellent condition! In the following few pictures, I show the cleaning of larger 1.18 litre bottles, since I use them as well as regular 341 mL bottles for beers I produce sometimes.
Other places to get beer bottles are to buy beer at stores, consume the beer, and then clean the bottles; or, ask friends and family to save beer bottles for you; and, be really nice with the bottle return clerk at the store and politely ask them if you may pay the bottle deposits on empty returned beer bottles.
Hence, an empty bottle was taken out:
The cap was unscrewed from the bottle, and kept:
The bottle was inspected for chips, cracks, and any other defects:
A plastic bucket was partly filled with water for soaking off the labels:
The bottle was placed in the bucket and filled with water …
Once filled, the bottle was turned over (in order to properly soak the label on the neck), and the bucket was almost fully filled with water:
After a while, the label was carefully removed from the bottle:
An old vegetable scraping brush was taken out:
The brush and partially delabeled bottle were brought together …
… and the vestiges of the label were removed …
… including the glue:
Yet again, the jet washer was installed onto the tap in the laundry tub:
… and the bottle’s interior was rinsed with the jet washer:
The bottle’s cap, which for these bottles and cap model can be reused if in good condition, was removed from the soaking water:
The cap was jet washed:
The bottle and cap were placed in the dishwasher with other dishes, to be washed and sanitized before storing for bottling day:
After the dishwasher had been run, the clean bottle was taken out, ready to be stored in anticipation of bottling day:
After three weeks:
On bottling day, clean bottles were taken out to bottle the beer:
The dishwasher had been previously run to clean dishes, and then the clean dishes were all taken out, leaving an empty and clean dishwasher:
Large, 1.18 litre beer bottles were placed in the dishwasher:
Small, 341 mL beer bottles were placed in the lower rack of the dishwasher alongside the larger beer bottles …
… as well in the dishwasher’s upper rack:
The dishwasher racks were rolled into the dishwashwer …
The dishswasher door was closed, and the dial set to start running the dishwashwer (without any soaps):
At this point, with the dishwasher running, I took out another beer and glass:
The beer was poured into the glass:
And the beer was enjoyed:
Various supplies and equipment were taken out for bottling, such as more dextrose to mix into the beer (to carbonate the beer once bottled), a racking tube, a large plastic mixing spoon, a measuring cup, a cone used to hold the racking cane in place in the secondary fermentors, a measuring cup to measure out the dextrose, some bottle caps for the smaller bottles, and the bottle capper for securing the caps on the smaller bottles. Missing: Caps used for larger bottles.
The racking tube and cane were rinsed with water:
The long plastic spoon was rinsed:
The jet washer was installed again:
The original fermentation bin was taken out:
The fermentation bin was rinsed with the jet washer:
The rinsed fermentation bin was brought over to the bar:
Dextrose was measured out:
The dextrose was brought to the fermentation bin:
The dextrose was poured into the fermentation bin:
The conical cane holder was placed on the racking cane:
The airlock was removed from the secondary fermentor whose beer was going to be racked:
The racking cane was carefully placed in the secondary fermentor whose beer was about to be racked:
I sucked a bit on the end of the tubing to start the transfer of the beer from the secondary fermentor …
… which allowed for the beer to be siphoned off and transferred to the primary fermentor with the dextrose, which was on the floor of the bar:
As the beer was transferring to the fermentation bin at floor level, I stirred the beer a bit to dissolve the dextrose:
As the beer was being transferred, the level in the secondary fermentor kept on dropping:
Once the liquid had been fully transferred from the secondary fermentor, I transferred the racking tube to the gallon jug:
… until it too was empty:
The large secondary fermentor was jetwashed …
… as was the gallon jug:
At this point, the original fermentation bin was filled with the beer, and was thoroughly mixed again:
While the beer was still being racked, a section of the bar was cleared again …
… the plastic cloth was placed on the floor beside the cleared section of the bar …
… and the fermentation bin with the beer was raised up to the bar again, with the racking cane and tubing having been placed in the bucket and draping down to floor level:
At this point, the dishwasher had finished operating, so the bottom rack with the large 1.18 litre and some 341 mL bottles were brought downstairs to the bottling area:
Large 1.18 litre bottles were taken out of the rack and stood upright for filling:
The racking tube was primed (flow started) and used to fill bottles one by one:
The clean caps were taken out:
… and the bottles were capped, and moved out of the bottling area. And here is my cat helping out with the beer bottling!
Smaller 341 mL and a single 750 mL bottles were taken out of the dishwasher rack and stood upright for bottling:
The regular-sized beer bottles were filled with the racking tube:
The filled beer bottles were moved out of the filling area as they were filled:
At this point, the level of beer in the fermentation bin had gotten low, however it still contained several bottles of beer:
Also at this point, all the bottles from the lower rack of the dishwasher had been filled with beer:
The upper rack from the dishwasher was brought down to the bottling area:
The rest of the beer was bottled, and the uncapped bottles were placed in beer cases in order to facilitate moving them over to where I capped the bottles:
At this point, I had set up my capping station, and had moved the cases of filled beer bottles there:
My beer bottle capper was taken out, along with a wooden booster to accomodate “modern” beer bottles, which are shorter than the tall bottles for which the capper seems to have been designed:
Uncrimped beer bottle caps were placed on bottles one at a time …
Bottles with caps were placed in the bottle capper, starting with a tall bottle not needing the wooden booster …
… and the plunger was pushed down over the cap, in order to crimp it onto the bottle:
… producing a capped and sealed bottle of beer:
The wooden booster was placed back on the base of the capper:
The bottles of beer were all capped:
A permanent marker was taken out:
The tops of the bottles were identified, in this case with “BL” for the blonde beer, and 2023 … for the year 2023. 🙂
The bottles were placed back in beer cases:
Here are all the bottles of beer of the blonde beer:
The bottling process was repeated for the brown ale:
After nine weeks:
Of course, the beer had to be taste tested, so a bottle of the blonde beer, as well as a glass, were taken out:
The bottle was held up to the light of a window to check that it had cleared on its own:
The blonde beer was poured into the glass …
… and the beer was enjoyed:
The beer is now ready to be consumed on … well, poor weather postponed the Canada Day festivities where I live, so it will be ready when Canada Day is rescheduled!
This is a relatively new addition to my collection of recipes, after having looked through an old community cookbook given to me by a neighbour. It is based on a near-identical recipe obviously (and expressly) intended to use up leftovers from a roast pork Sunday dinner; however, after trying the original recipe, which called for the use of brown sugar and apple slices, I decided to omit the sugar, which made the dish too sweet, and the apples, which didn’t suit us, and replaced them with cooked carrots.
This cooking session occurred in early April, 2023; for a variety of reasons, including the sheer number of photos to organize and prepare for this post — I went into overdrive! — it has taken a bit more than three weeks for me to build this blog post. Also, for the sake of the narrative, the photo progression presented here occasionally differs from the precise progression of when the photos were taken, either because of some mise-en-place activities, actual progression of the food preparation, photo shooting (and occasionally its impact on progression), several operations occurring concurrently, and the like.
Preparing the dish:
Firstly, a countertop convection oven was turned on:
A roasting tray was taken out:
A package of (frozen) pork loin, defrosted prior to the cooking session, was taken out:
Scissors were taken out to open the vacuum pack sealing the pork:
The pork loin’s vacuum pack was cut open:
The pork loin, removed from the vacuum pack, was placed in the roasting tray:
Garlic salt was taken out:
Garlic salt was liberally shaken on top of the pork loin:
The pork loin was placed in the countertop convection oven:
A timer was set for an hour as a reminder for how long to cook the pork loin:
A pot was taken out for boiling carrots:
A scale was taken out to know roughly measure out the right amount of carrot:
Carrots were taken out:
About a quarter pound of carrot — in this case, a single carrot — was taken out of the bag:
The carrot was cleaned and rinsed:
The cleaned carrot was placed on a cutting board:
The carrot was trimmed:
The carrot was sliced lengthwise:
… and again sliced a few more times to make carrot spears:
The carrot spears were chopped:
The chopped carrots were transferred to the pot:
Water was added to the pot of chopped carrots until the carrots were covered:
Salt was added to the carrots and water:
A stove burner was turned on:
The carrots were brought to a boil …
Once the carrots were boiled for about ten minutes, the boiling water was drained off:
A mixing bowl was taken out in which to transfer the carrots:
The boiled carrots were transferred to the mixing bowl:
The carrots were put aside for a bit.
A microwave-safe cooking vessel was taken out, ready for a few moments later when the sweet potatoes would be peeled:
A bowl was placed on the scale, and the scale set to zero:
A bit more than four pounds of sweet potatoes were measured out:
A potato peeler was taken out:
The sweet potatoes were peeled, with the peels placed in a bucket to keep for later disposal in a municipal composting programme:
Peeled sweet potatoes were placed in the microwave-safe cooking vessel:
A kitchen knife was taken out:
The sweet potatoes were sliced and quartered:
… and placed back in the microwave-safe cooking vessel:
Water was added to the cooking vessel …
… to about a bit below the surface of the sweet potatoes:
The vessel was covered …
… and placed in the microwave oven:
The microwave oven (1200 watts) was set to 18 minutes:
… and the microwave oven was turned on:
While the sweet potatoes were cooking, a package of dried gravy mix — turkey gravy, which is what I had on hand, and in a package that makes a cup’s worth of gravy, as called for in the recipe, was taken out:
The gravy packet was opened and its contents transferred to another pot that was taken out:
A measuring cup was taken out:
A cup of water was measured out:
The water was added to the pot:
The gravy mix and water were mixed with a spoon:
The gravy was put aside, since the time on the roast pork ran out:
A meat thermometer was taken out …
… and stuck into the pork, giving a temperature reading just right for fully cooked pork:
The pork was removed from the roasting pan:
… and the juices in the roasting pan were drained into the bowl with the cooked carrots
The roast pork was sliced thickly:
The roast pork was cut into cubes:
A small blender with chopping blades was taken out …
… and the blender was plugged in:
Cubes of roast pork were placed in the blender …
… and the lid placed on top of the blender:
The pork was ground finely without creating a mush:
The chopped pork was transferred to the bowl with the cooked carrots and pork juices:
Larger bits of pork which did not get ground finely enough were removed from the bowl, to be ground again with more pork cubes:
The rest of the pork was ground and transferred to the mixing bowl.
Returning to the gravy, a burner on the stove was turned on, in this case, the smaller inner part of a larger burner which has two settings:
The gravy was constantly mixed while being heated, to avoid burning:
Once the gravy came to a boil, the timer was set to a minute …
… while the burner setting was reduced to just about minimum to only allow for simmering:
Once the minute ran out, the gravy was poured over the ground pork and carrots:
The gravy, ground pork, and carrots were mixed with the spoon:
At this point, oven-proof dishes were taken out, for filling:
The meat mix was spooned into containers to about half full, and spread out evenly:
At this point, I came back to the sweet potatoes, which had long since finished cooking in the microwave oven:
The sweet potatoes were checked with a fork to see if they were properly cooked through, which they were:
The water was drained off of the sweet potatoes:
A container of margarine was taken out and opened:
A dollop of margarine was taken from the margarine container with a spoon:
The margarine was added to the sweet potatoes:
A measuring cup and milk were taken out:
Milk was measured out:
The milk was added to the sweet potatoes and margarine:
Measuring spoons were taken out:
Salt was taken out:
Salt was measured out:
The salt was added to the sweet potatoes:
An electric mixer was taken out, to mash the sweet potatoes:
The electric mixer was plugged in:
The sweet potatoes were mashed with the electric mixer:
A plastic icing spreader was taken out:
Mashed sweet potatoes were picked up with the icing spreader …
… and, back to the containers with the pork, gravy, and carrots mix, the mashed sweet potatoes were spread on top of the meat mix :
Plastic bags were taken out and identified and dated:
The dishes were placed in the individual bags:
And finally, the bagged dishes were placed in the freezer:
I bought a food dehydrator in early 1997 while I was still involved as an adult member in Scouting, and began by drying (mostly) various fruits for Scout Troop camping trips; Troop members were eager to test out the results of my efforts. While I am no longer involved in Scouting, I have continued drying fruits; I quickly decided that my favourite by far was dried pineapple, which comes out like candy to me.
A short overview of my very early experiences with drying food, from a Scouting perspective, is at what would have been a blog back in the late 1990’s before blogs were a thing at https://www.malak.ca/super.html#dried.
Drying the pineapples:
I keep an eye out for sales on pineapples, and brought home six pineapples last week:
I brought my cutting board, knife, and corer down to the bar area downstairs, where I normally do my fruit drying:
A bucket for the compostable trimmings was also set out:
My food dehydrator was of course taken out, with all its extra trays …
… and the unit was plugged into an extension cord caddy that was plugged into an outlet in an adjoining room, since the bar has an old outlet that doesn’t accept polarized plugs:
The food dehydrator was set to 135F for drying fruits and vegetables:
Now to the pineapples: The labels and their plastic tags were removed from the pineapples:
A pineapple was placed on its side in order to trim off the top:
The top of the pineapple was sliced off:
The top of the pineapple was placed in the scraps bucket:
The pineapple was rotated so as to slice off the bottom:
The bottom of the pineapple was placed in the scraps bucket:
The pineapple is now ready for the rest of the trimming:
I started trimming the skin off the pineapple:
As part of trimming the skin off the pineapple, sometimes the bottoms have to be trimmed too because of the somewhat rounded shape of pineapples, making it tricky sometimes to trim off the skin in full slices:
The trimmed pineapple skins …
… were placed in the scraps bucket:
The trimmed pineapple was again placed on its side …
… and sliced into two halves roughly at its centre, essentially to accommodate the length of my corer, although the resulting slices tend to be of a convenient size as well:
An apple corer was used to remove the pineapple cores:
I began slicing pieces off the cored pineapple half, roughly two milimetres thick:
The slices were placed on a drying tray:
More slices were sliced off the pineapple, to about half of the pineapple half:
… until the tray was filled:
The filled tray was placed on the food dehydrator base:
The top of the dehydrator was placed on the tray:
Oh and here’s my cat to help me out:
I continued trimming and slicing the pineapples, filling twelve trays; as can be surmised from the following picture, in 2012, I added an additional eight trays to the original four I’d bought in 1997!)
The twelve trays were filled with a bit more than four and a half of the pineapples I’d purchased, leaving at this point a little less than one and a half pineapples to slice up later as the slices in the dehydrator dried and made space:
At this point, the breaker on the extension cord carrying case decided to trip (in my experience, unusual for a single device with a peak draw of only about 550 watts, although I do suspect that the caddy does have a lower trip level than a normal household circuit breaker):
Quickly, a new extension cord was taken out:
… which was plugged into an outlet, and the dehydrator plugged into the new extension cord:
Back to the pineapples, the scraps were placed in the scrap bucket, which was ultimately emptied into my municipal compostable waste bin:
At this point, Mom asked for some mashed pineapple, and got a total of six containers, which were placed in the freezer:
After about six hours, here’s what a tray of partly dried pineapple slices looked like, including the size shrinkage:
The partly dried pineapple slices were shifted around to make space:
After space was made on all the trays, four trays were emptied:
… and the first few pineapple slices dried to my liking were removed from the trays. Allowed to completely dry, pineapple will become crispy like potato chips; I like dried pineapple that is still a bit chewy and flexible, while there is still a very small amount of humidity left in the slices. As such, I remove slices when they have a leathery feel, and after the surface of the slices are no longer sticky.
A zipper style sandwich bag was taken out to store the dried pineapple:
… and the dried pineapple slices were stacked and placed in the bag:
At this point — seven hours in — I finished slicing the rest of the pineapples, spread them on a couple of the emptied trays, and inserted the filled trays back in the dehydrator stack, for a total of ten trays:
After nine hours, here’s what the pineapple looked like:
… and a few more slices of dried pineapple were taken out for bagging:
… and my dehydrator was down to seven trays after nine hours:
After twelve hours, the dehydrator was checked again:
… and more dried pineapple was taken out after twelve hours:
… and stacked for bagging:
… and bagged:
… and after all the shifting around and bagging, I was down to five trays in the dehydrator:
At this point, I had gone to bed, but I woke up after a couple of hours at midnight, and checked on the dehydrator, shifting pineapple slices around and removing dried sliced pineapple. Here’s the bagged cumulative production after fourteen hours:
… and I was down to four trays after fourteen hours:
Finally, after seventeen hours — in this case, three in the morning! (yes, I had set my alarm) — I emptied the dehydrator and bagged the last of the dried pineapple slices, for a total of five bags of dried pineapple slices, from a bit over five pineapples:
After a couple of days, I started eating the dried pineapple — yes, like a kid in a candy shop! 🙂
I picked up making omelettes for Mom a few months ago out of the blue, because they’re easy to make, and Mom seemed to appreciate them right off the bat. As of this post’s writing, I don’t have a formal recipe written up, but I imagine I could soon; hence for the moment, this post *is*The recipe can now be found here! 🙂 (20240128)
Making the omelette:
I normally keep ground ham in the freezer, divided into serving sizes in small containers, so I took some out, about 15g to 20g (about half to three quarters of an ounce):
Should you not have ground ham on hand, here’s how I make the ground ham:
Deli-style sliced “old-fashioned smoked ham”, in this case purchased at the grocery store in the pre-packaged deli meats counter, was taken out:
… and a coffee grinder was taken out:
The package was opened up, and a couple of slices of ham were placed in the coffee grinder …
… the coffee grinder was closed …
… and the ham was coarsely ground (though not turned to mush!) a few pulses at a time:
(… and, the rest of the ham in the package was similarly ground and placed in a couple of containers, divided up into individual serving sizes, and frozen.)
The frozen ham taken out earlier was placed in the microwave oven to defrost it:
… and the microwave oven (1100 watts) was set to about 30 seconds, just enough to mostly defrost the ham:
The microwave oven was turned on:
Finally, the defrosted chopped ham was broken up with a fork:
The chopped ham was put aside for a few moments.
Again, normally, I keep cheddar cheese sliced off the block in the fridge, so I took some out:
Should you not have sliced cheese on hand, here’s how I slice the cheese: A block of cheddar cheese and a cheese slicer in the form of a slotted lifter, where were the slot has an edge intended for slicing the likes of cheese off of a block, were taken out; normally we like mild cheddar, but you can choose any kind of cheese you like that will slice, shred, or crumble nicely:
The block of cheese was unwrapped:
Cheese was sliced off the block:
… and as the cheese was sliced, it was placed in a container:
The cheese slices which were produced for this demonstration were put away in the fridge, while the cheese slices taken out earlier were put aside on the counter for a few moments.
Back to the omelette, a mixing bowl was taken out:
Two eggs were taken out:
Two eggs were cracked in the mixing bowl:
Milk was taken out, and about an ounce of milk was measured out:
The milk was added to the eggs:
A bit of salt was added to the eggs and milk:
The mixture was beaten with a fork:
For this amount of egg mixture, I use a 6 inch / 15 centimetre non-stick frypan:
Also, an aluminum pie plate was taken out:
The stove was turned on to a low setting, but, crucially, given that I was using a larger burner and that this burner can be set to only use a smaller, inner circle, I should have only set it to that smaller, inner circle.
Cooking oil, in this case olive oil, was taken out and added to the frypan:
The olive oil was spread over the cooking surface of the frypan:
The beaten egg mixture was poured into the frypan:
The aluminum pie plate was placed over the frypan as a means to cook the top of the egg mixture somewhat more quickly:
A few slices of the cheese was taken out of the container, about enough just to cover half the surface of the omelette, twice, with a not too thick layer of cheese, especially since there will be two layers (see below):
The aluminum pie plate was taken off the frypan, revealing that the egg mixture was cooking through:
About half the cheese slices were placed on half of the omelette (in this case, on the left hand half of the omelette!):
The ground ham was spread over the cheese on the omelette:
The rest of the cheese slices were placed on top of the ground ham:
The aluminum pie plate was again placed on top of the frypan, in order to help melt the cheese and warm the ham:
A few moments later, the pie plate was removed, and half the omelette was flipped over onto the other half:
A bit of water was drawn from a tap and into a glass …
Some water was poured into the frypan, in order to create some steam:
The aluminum pie plate was again placed on top of the frypan to capture the steam to continue cooking the omelette:
The aluminum pie plate was again removed from the frypan, and the omelette cut in two:
At this point, the two halves were quickly turned over (oops, I forgot to take a picture) and cooked for another very small moment.
Half the omelette was served on a plate for Mom to have right away, and the other half was placed in a container to place in the fridge, for Mom to have at a later time:
Ketchup was added, and the omelette was served to Mom:
To my pleasure, Mom yet again found it to be tasty!