Garden to Pantry :: Hot Pepper Honey Mustard

As you know (since I've been bemoaning it here all summer) it's been only herbs and hot peppers in my little patch of earth lately. This morning, I transformed my harvest of Santa Fe Grande Peppers into Hot Pepper Honey Mustard.

I had exactly 20 usable peppers, all in different stages of maturation - aren't they gorgeous? After removing the seeds, I popped them in the blender and processed until smooth. Then, they went into a large pot with yellow and dijon mustard, raw local honey, organic cane sugar, unfiltered apple cider vinegar, and a bit of sea salt. Once boiling, a mix of flour and water was stirred in to thicken it.

I ladled the hot mustard into 4oz. canning jars, and processed them in a hot water bath for 5 minutes. This is a thick and sticky treat, folks! I couldn't stop scraping off what was stuck to the side of the pot with pretzel sticks... hmm! It's sweet, tangy, and not too spicy - just a nice kick.

Fifteen jars are now cooling on the kitchen windowsill. Some will stock our own pantry, some will go to my next homemade food & craft swap (perhaps with some homemade soft pretzels for dunking!), and some will be tucked away for hostess and holiday gifts.

After tasting it, I believe this honey mustard will not only be delish for dunking pretzels in and spreading on ham sandwiches... it would also make a zesty glaze for pretty much any kind of meat (think chicken, pork, salmon, shrimp kebabs...) and would give winter root vegetables (like carrots, potatoes and parsnips) a nice zing. Any other ideas?

~

Hot Pepper Honey Mustard (Mild)

20-30 hot peppers, depending on desired level of heat (I used homegrown Santa Fe Grande)
2 cups prepared mustard (I used about 1 1/2 cups yellow, 1/2 cup dijon)
2 1/2 cups organic cane sugar
1/2 cup raw local honey
2 cups organic, unfiltered apple cider vinegar
1/2 Tbsp. sea salt
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup water

Remove the seeds from the hot peppers and place them in a blender or food processor; process until smooth. Pour into a large pot and stir in mustard, sugar, honey, apple cider vinegar and salt. Bring to a hard boil.

Whisk together flour and water until smooth. Pour into the boiling mustard mixture and continue to boil, stirring constantly, for 5 minutes. Ladle into sterile canning jars and seal with new lids and rings. Process in a boiling water bath for 5 to 10 minutes, depending on your altitude.

Makes 15-16 4oz. jars; or 7-8 half pint jars.

Seeds of Hope

It was one of the hottest days yet, when the sun wouldn't relent and the humidity hung heavy as a wool blanket in the air. The kind of summer day in Florida where you shut yourself inside with the AC roaring; or plant yourself firmly in a body of water and try and remember what moving air feels like. So, you get it... it was unbearably HOT. Mid-afternoon I ventured out to collect the mail and there it was sitting in my mailbox like a beacon of hope... a fat envelope from Baker Creek, full of seeds. Hundreds of tiny little reminders that autumn will in fact arrive. 

Seeds for my Fall/Winter Garden:

• French Breakfast Radish
• Calabrese Green Sprouting Broccoli
• Emerald Giant Peppers
• Riesentraube Tomatoes
• Amish Paste Tomatoes
• Rainbow Swiss Chard
• Bloomsdale Long Standing Spinach
• Cimmaron, Big Boston & Blonde du Cazard Lettuces
• Sugar Snap Peas
• Purple Pole Beans
• Parisienne & Little Finger Carrots
• Bush Buttercup Squash
• Genovese Basil
• SloBolt Cilantro
• Giant of Italy Parsley
• Dill
• Stevia
• Flowers: Autumn Beauty Sunflowers, Snapdragons & Calendula

What will you be growing this fall?

Thank You, Zinnias

The zinnias in our garden are still blooming! All summer we've had magnificent cut flowers in a sunset of shades. I tuck them into jelly jars and tall, skinny repurposed capers jars. Sometimes I'll add a sprig of fresh herbs, or a few fern leaves; sometimes nothing. Just zinnias.

I really love to place these simple arrangements where I know the light will shine on them. I've learned the early morning sun brightens the edge of a half wall in our main room. And in the late afternoon, the last golden light of the day pours through my kitchen window.

Oh, thank you sweet, cheery, lovely zinnias. You make me smile.