Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Take this snow and shove (shovel) it March 20, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 9:23 PM
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ON THE FIRST DAY OF SPRING in Minnesota, my true love gave to me…chicken on the grill.

But, before he could cook the chicken, he shoveled 2 ½ feet of snow from the patio to access the Weber. That would be the grill which, until yesterday, lay tipped on its side, having toppled off a melting snow mountain.

After shoveling his way to the grill, he fired it up.

But, as anyone knows, even in winter-spring, a man cannot grill without beer. So my true love chiseled a bottle of Nordeast into an icy snow bank to reach icy perfection. By the time I photographed the chilling beer, the bottle was nearly empty.

Later he iced a bottle of Grain Belt Premium.

And so on the first day of spring in Minnesota, I did not get five golden rings or a partridge in a pear tree. Yes, I am well aware that I am referencing The Twelve Days of Christmas here. But with all the snow still remaining in our northern state, December 25 seems like yesterday.

Rather, on this fine spring day (if you call 40-plus degree temps, rain and thunder in the morning, and snow-blotched lawns and boulevards “fine”), I got chicken, and potatoes, on the grill.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A super soup competition March 14, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 11:40 AM
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AT HIS DAY JOB, Steve sells cars. On the side, he raises chickens on his small Minnesota acreage. He’d like to add a few pigs and cows, but he’s not versed in raising those critters.

He’s an expert gardener, though, who cans his produce. He appreciates the taste of home-grown vegetables and those farm-raised chickens.

Steve also loves to cook.

Sunday night I met Steve and sampled some of his cooking at Cannon Valley Lutheran High School’s first-ever “Soup-er Bowl” in Morristown. Loaded with hefty chunks of chicken, thick homemade noodles, carrots, celery, onion and garlic, Steve’s creamy chicken noodle soup earned him a second place finish among the 10 soups entered in the cooking competition. He deserved it. I don’t typically like chicken noodle soup, but I loved Steve’s.

I asked for the secret to the cream base. A stick of butter and half-and-half combined with the juices of his home-grown chicken, additional chicken stock, bay leaves and other spices created a savory broth. By the way, Steve appears to be the kind of guy who would rather share cooking tips than keep them secret.

Steve's chicken noodle soup is in the top left corner of this photo. The winning soup, taco chili, is next to it on the right. The other soups here are corn chowder, Mulligan stew and (I think) cheeseburger.

I don’t know how the other nine competing cooks—except the youngest cook, eighth grader Louis—felt about revealing their recipes. Louis left the recipe for his fiery green chili on a table for diners to pick up. Let me tell you, when I tasted his chili laced with hot jalapenos, I gulped lemonade.

Taco chili won the 2011 “Soup-er Bowl” trophy from among entries like Mulligan stew, cheesy wild rice, corn chowder, ultimate cheeseburger, a second chicken noodle soup and Steve’s chicken noodle soup.

The "Soup-er Bowl" trophy, awarded this year for the taco chili.

This whole idea of a “Soup-er Bowl” was the brainchild of my friend Mike, who volunteers as CVLHS acting development director. Mike is one of those guys who is always giving back to the community. He remains a strong supporter of the Lutheran high school even though his eldest son graduated from there several years ago.

Wanting to connect the congregations that are part of an association supporting CVLHS, Mike came up with the soup competition. Last weekend five of the member churches held local contests with the two top winners from each church advancing to yesterday’s finale.

Soup and chili samples were placed onto vintage metal trays for each diner.

Unfortunately, I was out of town last weekend, or I would have entered a soup. Mike has already invited me to participate next year. But after tasting all of the excellent soups and chilis on Sunday, I’m hesitant to vie against so many great cooks. I might simply remain a taster.

I love soups. Each year for the past seven, my sister Lanae has hosted an autumn soup party at her Waseca home. While she doesn’t award a trophy for the best soup, the winners are really us, the invited guests. Last year we could choose from 17 homemade soups spread out on tables in her and husband Dale’s garage. Click here to read all about her 2010 soup party.

When I heard about the CVLHS “Soup-er Bowl” gathering, I wasn’t about to miss an opportunity to eat soup and support the school. For $5, diners got small samplings of each soup or chili, breads and sweet treats, along with beverages.

The party was not only a fundraiser for the school but, more importantly, an evening of fellowship, organizer Mike said.

Diners packed tables in the Bethlehem Lutheran Church fellowship hall to taste 10 soups and chilis and then vote for their favorite at the CVLHS "Soup-er Bowl" party.

He’s right. I met car salesman/chicken farmer/chef Steve when I sat at the same table as him. Now my name is on Steve’s list to contact when his chickens are ready for butchering next summer. I can already taste that delicious chicken noodle soup…

By the time I went through the line, the vintage trays had all been used, so seven soups and chilis were crammed onto an oval plate. I later picked up the remaining three to sample. My sister also uses vintage trays at her party.

HERE’S THE RECIPE for Green Chili from eighth grader Louis:

Green Chili

Brown hamburger. Separate hamburger from juice and let juice sit.

Sauté celery, white and green onions, jalapenos, cilantro, green peppers, black pepper and hamburger juice.

Put hamburger and vegetables in pan and add green tomatoes and stir until finished.

NOTE: Louis did not list specific ingredient amounts, so I guess you need to figure that out for yourself.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Tasteless strawberries and wilting lettuce March 10, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:51 AM
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I LOVE FRUITS AND VEGETABLES.

But I don’t always love the quality of the fruits and vegetables I find in the grocery store. In my opinion, they are often sub-par.

Because I live in Minnesota, I am not all that educated about fresh fruits and vegetables. Our cold climate and short growing season limit our native selections. We rely on “imports” from Florida and California and other much warmer places.

That said, I have no idea when growers pick oranges or strawberries or fill in the blank here. How mature, or immature, is the fruit?

Are oranges, like bananas, harvested when they are green? How about strawberries? Muskmelon? Is all fruit plucked before it’s ripened?

I raise that question because I bought a pound of Florida strawberries the other day that looked oddly, unnaturally overripe. Yet, I didn’t see any telltale mold. My husband theorized that they were “picked green and gassed.”

Is fruit really “gassed,” and what does that mean?

 

A few of the Florida strawberries from the pound I purchased.

The strawberries were rather tasteless, but added a jolt of color to my lettuce salad. If you live in Minnesota or any other cold climate, you’ll understand the need for a jolt of color this time of year. (It’s been a long, cold and snowy winter.)

That brings me to the lettuce. I doled out $2.99 for a bunch of Romaine lettuce at the same time I bought the strawberries. Normally I would pass on Romaine priced so exorbitantly high or even consider substituting iceberg lettuce (which I quit buying years ago because I prefer whole wheat to Wonder bread).

I was willing, though, to pay the $3. I wanted, needed, a Romaine salad. Unfortunately, the selection was not good. Small bunches. Wilted leaves and leaves edged with black. I chose the best and hoped I wasn’t throwing away my money.

 

I had already peeled off several layers of lettuce leaves before I took this photo. What are those brownish spots?

Well, I threw away about three salads worth of lettuce as I peeled off the layers of leaves to reveal what I term “rust.” I have no idea what the brown spots are inside lettuce leaves, nor do I know why leaves are sometimes tipped with black. I just know that I can’t eat it.

This frustrates me.

How many times have you purchased bad lettuce or fresh fruit that ends up in the garbage? I bet you’ve all tasted “baseball” hard peaches or pears and nectarines that never ripen and are as crunchy and dry as cardboard. One bite and in the trash they go.

So why are fruits and vegetables like this?

WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS on the quality of today’s fresh fruits and vegetables? I’d like to hear your insights and your experiences.

 

Sliced strawberries, cucumbers and Amablu Gorgonzola cheese added to Romaine lettuce made a perfect salad. I topped the salad with lemon poppyseed dressing.

FYI: Amablu Gorgonzola cheese is made at Faribault Dairy in Faribault, Minnesota, where it is aged in sandstone caves along the Straight River. This is home to America’s first blue cheese plant, dating back to 1936. The award-winning cheeses produced in my community are among my favorite cheeses.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

A sweet treasure in downtown Lamberton March 9, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:49 AM
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DRIVE INTO ANY SMALL TOWN, U.S.A., and you’ll likely discover a treasure that the locals take for granted.

For instance, in Lamberton, Minnesota, I recently spotted a vintage sign on a beautiful brick building along the town’s main drag. I didn’t have much time to investigate as the guys in the car were anxious to keep moving. But we stopped long enough for me to snap a few photos and peer through the front window and door of Sanger’s Bakery.

 

This sign, suspended from Sanger's Bakery, first drew me to the building.

Inside, time stood still. An old 7-UP clock hung on the wall behind empty glass bakery cases fronted by one vintage stool (that I could see). Boxes of candy sat on the counter. I almost expected the baker aka ice cream and candy seller to walk into view, open the door and let me inside.

That, of course, was wishful thinking.

The bakery is closed, although men gather here in the morning for coffee, I’m told. You won’t find doughnuts or cinnamon rolls or loaves of freshly-baked bread, just coffee and conversation at the coffee klatsch.

Now, if I had discretionary cash, I’d buy this place, spiff it up a bit, but not too much to ruin its charming character, and reopen the combination bakery, ice cream parlor and candy store.

I could see the possibilities in that weathered sign, in the stunning brick building and in that single, empty stool.

 

The bakery's front window.

The bakery sits on a corner. I took this building side view through the closed window of the car, after we had driven around the block.

An up-close shot of the lettering on the bakery I wish was still open.

IF YOU KNOW ANYTHING about Sanger’s Bakery or have memories of patronizing this business, please submit a comment. I’d like to learn more about this former bakery which I consider a small-town treasure.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

These Minnesota Girl Scouts are tough cookies March 6, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 4:31 PM
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I’VE HAD GIRL SCOUTS knock on my door to sell Girl Scout cookies.

I’ve had Girl Scouts approach me at church to sell cookies.

I’ve seen Girl Scouts selling cookies at the grocery store and at the mall.

But…, until this weekend I’d never seen Girl Scouts bundled in caps, coats, snowpants, mittens and boots selling Girl Scout cookies outside a Minnesota gas station as temperatures hovered around 30 degrees. And that’s without the windchill.

I wasn't sure what the group was selling until we got right up to the gas station. I was ready with my camera.

As my family drove through the small southern Minnesota town of Courtland around noon today, these Nicollet Girl Scouts and their moms were peddling cookies at the Shell station along U.S. Highway 14. FYI, Courtland lies west of Nicollet, which lies west of Mankato.

I have to give these girls and their moms credit for their devotion to the cause. I doubt I would have stood out there in brisk March winds selling sweet treats. These Girl Scouts are some tough cookies.

And, no, I’m ashamed to say that we did not stop. I snapped these images as we passed by. But, clearly, the Girl Scout in the second photo wanted me to stop.

Girls and their moms peddled Girl Scout cookies in Courtland.

After I uploaded the photos into my computer, I noticed the smaller sign on the box on the back of the pickup truck: “Buy cookies and donate them to our military troops!! We do the shipping for you!!” That would have been one more good reason to stop.

To the Nicollet Girl Scouts, I admire your patriotism and your determination. Clearly you’re not going to let a Minnesota winter keep you from reaching your goals.

Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

 

 

 

 

Chocolate cake for breakfast March 3, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:50 AM
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“MOM, CAN I HAVE some hot fudge pudding cake for breakfast?” my 17-year-old asks.

“Sure, go ahead,” I reply. “There’s some whipped cream in the fridge too.”

Am I a bad mom for letting my teen consume a chocolate dessert before 8 a.m.?

 

Hot fudge pudding cake slathered with real whipped cream and topped with sprinkles.

When his sisters were that age—they’re 23 and 25 now—I never would have allowed them to eat cake for breakfast. But I’ve become a little much more relaxed in my parenting now that I’m older and tired.

Besides, I didn’t tell my boy this, but I was considering dipping into the chocolate pudding cake for breakfast too. I didn’t.

I wondered, though, as I poured cereal into a bowl, whether the cinnamon and sugar-laden squares I was about to eat were any more healthy than the homemade chocolate dessert?

 

The sugary cereal I ate for breakfast.

Just to clarify here, before you give me your opinion, you should know that my lanky son is over six feet tall, skinny as a toothpick, slim as a rail, etc. He can eat any amount of anything and not gain an ounce. Last night he ate a half a piece of pizza at 10:30. He does not like fruits (except for bananas and raspberries) or vegetables (except for potatoes). I did not raise him to dislike either as I could live on fruits and vegetables, OK, and chocolate.

If you would like to try hot fudge pudding cake for breakfast, or any time, here’s the recipe. It’s one of my favorite desserts, which my mom made when I was growing up, and is incredibly simple to prepare. Enjoy.

Hot Fudge Pudding Cake

1 cup flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

¼ teaspoon salt

¾ cup sugar

2 Tablespoons cocoa

½ cup milk

2 Tablespoons vegetable oil

Mix together the flour, baking powder, salt, sugar and cocoa. Stir in milk and vegetable oil. Spread in a 9-inch square pan.

Sprinkle with 1 cup of brown sugar and ¼ cup of cocoa that have been mixed together.

Pour 1 ¾ cups of hot water over the entire batter and bake at 350 degrees for 40 – 45 minutes. During baking, the cake mixture rises to the top and the chocolate sauce settles to the bottom. Serve warm, with whipped cream if desired.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Snow peas at the farmers’ market February 18, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:45 AM
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Faribault Farmers' Market sign, photographed during the summer.

MY HUSBAND AND I HAD some fun recently at our teen’s expense.

We were talking about food samples at the grocery store and I was raving about the bread. My spouse was telling me about the fish from Vietnam and how a shopper declared he wouldn’t eat anything from that country because of the parasites. I’m guessing he was a Vietnam War veteran.

Our son caught snippets of our conversation, remaining checked out for most of the exchange as is typical of him. Apparently any words said by the parents are not worthy of his full attention.

That is why, whenever he jumps into the middle of a discussion, his statements usually make no sense.

“What, you got bread at the farmer’s market?” he interjected into our grocery store sample conversation.

Now if we were teenagers, my husband and I would have rolled our eyes. But we didn’t.

One of us responded with something like, “You think there’s a farmers’ market in winter?” Well, maybe in some communities, but not in Central Park in Faribault, Minnesota, in February, even if the temp soared to nearly 50 degrees recently.

Besides, we added, it’s not like the local vendors would have any fresh fruits and vegetables to sell.

Then my husband, who possesses a sense of humor that balances my seriousness, thought for a moment.

Of course, he said, they could sell iceberg lettuce and snow peas, and, I added, freeze pops and snow cones.

And, oh, yeah, the Dairy Queen folks could peddle Blizzards.

By that time, the teen had already begun checking out. I could see it in his rolling eyes, in the dismissive shake of his head, in the vibe that indicated he thought his parents were nuts.

We just laughed.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

The flirtatious Bread Man February 14, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:48 AM
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THE BREAD MAN was giving out bread samples on Saturday at a local grocery store.

I call him the “Bread Man” because I don’t know his name. He has a few decades on me and he’s the nicest, smiley-est demo person I’ve ever met. I’m pretty certain he also sells a lot of bread. He’s a convincing salesman.

I once worked as a grocery store demo person. I can appreciate the Bread Man’s skills.

After sampling a few mini-slices of artisan style bread, I picked up a bag of the Sicilian Baking Stone Bread which the Bread Man recommended. With the 50-cent off coupon he offered, the loaf cost only $1.49. I couldn’t pass on the deal as it would be the perfect accompaniment to a Sunday noon birthday meal for my 17-year-old son and 25-year-old daughter.

The Bread Man plied me with his offers and I quickly snatched up a loaf of Sicilian bread.

I also could not resist the flirtatious salesman. “If you like the bread, come back and give me a hug,” the Bread Man told me and another woman. “If you don’t like the bread, come back and I’ll give you a hug.” We all laughed.

And then he called me “young lady.” I haven’t been called “young lady” in, well, uh, a long time. That Bread Man…

Some time ago, while dining at a now-closed Faribault restaurant, my daughter and I were presented with bread and a saucer containing a mix like this. I wondered why the restaurant was serving chocolate with bread. Really. I'm not making this up. My daughter quickly explained that this was balsamic vinegar mixed with olive oil for bread dipping. Balsamic what? I am not used to such fancy food. When I bought the Bread Man's Sicilian bread, I also made my own dipping sauce with olive oil and balsamic vinegar. My only question: Are you supposed to swirl the two together? I am not a foodie. I need your expertise.

 

Olive oil mixed with balsamic vinegar created the perfect, healthy dip for the Bread Man's Sicilian bread.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Obsessed with oranges January 29, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 9:41 AM
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Ever since my friend Kathy told me about orange "smiles," I've eaten oranges this way. No struggling to remove the peeling. Just slice and eat. The fruit easily separates from the rind.

EVER CRAVE A SPECIFIC food for days, even weeks?

Lately, I’ve craved oranges.

Now that’s a healthy alternative to the chips and chocolate I sometimes often desire.

While I can’t pinpoint the exact reasons for my orange obsession, I can theorize. This has been a long and snowy winter in Minnesota. When I see and feel and taste an orange, I temporarily escape to a warm, sunny climate like Florida or California. Seriously. If you live in Minnesota, you know exactly what I mean.

Keep sliced oranges handy in the fridge for a quick and healthy snack.

And then there’s the color. Orange. It’s sunny, bright, uplifting. After way too many wake-up-in-the-dark and dark-by-five-o’clock days, I need an orb of cheerfulness to stave off a potential case of Seasonal Affective Disorder. Orange is, after all, opposite blue the blues on the color wheel.

Juicy oranges quench thirst and provide Vitamin C.

Oranges also quench my seemingly endless thirst. That thirst, I concluded, is related to my dried out skin which is caused by the furnace running too much and drying out the air during these endless winter days. True or not, a juicy orange hits the spot.

About now you’re probably thinking, what the heck, is this an advertisement for the California Citrus Growers Association or the Florida Orange Growers?

No, rather these are the musings of a winter-weary Minnesotan who tastes summer in an orange.

P.S. I will accept any and all free shipments of oranges to my snow-encased Faribault home. Thank you.

 

Yes, I became obsessed also with photographing oranges. But this fruit photographs so well, don't you think?

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

As good as chocolate January 28, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:21 AM
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WHEN MY SECOND ELDEST daughter lived in Argentina, she discovered a sinfully delicious treat that ranks right up there with chocolate.

Really.

Yesterday I found a container of this creamy sweet treat tucked in the back of the cupboard. My daughter brought it home from Buenos Aires in October and left it behind when she recently moved to Wisconsin.

Lucky me, because I really, absolutely love…

 

Dulce de Leche from Argentina

I opened the lid, dipped my spoon into the dulce de leche and savored the thick creamy caramel.

 

Dulce de leche comes in several styles, including this colonial style. The more expensive artisan style is lighter in color and even thicker. There are many brands on the market.

Then I slathered more onto two scoops of ice cream.

 

A perfect ice cream topping.

I didn’t even need to add chocolate.

FYI: You can find dulce de leche in the ethnic food section of your local supermarket, although I have not found a brand as tasty as the one my daughter toted home from Argentina.

Or, you can create your own dulce de leche from sweetened condensed milk, which my second eldest learned to make while working in the Concordia Spanish Language Village kitchen near Bemidji. Go online and find a recipe.

Argentines eat dulce de leche on alfajor cookies, pancakes, toast, crackers, ice cream, crepes, tortillas (like biscuits, not “tortillas” as we think of them) and more.

Have you ever eaten dulce de leche? If yes, what do you think? As good as chocolate?

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling