I love signs - whether they are crazy, serious, elegant, nostalgic or unintentionally funny. This week I'm starting a new series where I will share some of my favorites. Is there an interesting sign near you that I should come and photograph or you think I would like? Let me know in the comments.

Route 66 is a hobby of mine. I've driven the entire length, from Chicago to Santa Monica (once I drove from Tulsa to Santa Rosa New Mexico because I wanted an omelette.) This sign near Miami Oklahoma always makes me smile. Finally, one day, I stopped, and yes, there is nine feet of cracked pavement. One of my friends calls it the "World's Shortest Drag Strip." 

  

When I had someone in the hospital at the old St. John's in Joplin, I passed by the former home of "Elsie's Homemade Tater Rolls" several times a week. Nothing but a small foundation left now, but I bet her tater rolls were something!

Not much to laugh about in Joplin this last year. However, I spotted this sign at one of the FEMA trailer camps on the north side of the city. And, no, it is not a joke. The sign in the background reads "EY Street."  I have to confess, if I lived here, that sign would mysteriously disappear one night, never to be seen again, unless you came into my office. Hey, I didn't do it. I just thought about it!

 Our spring kidding season starts in about 3 weeks.  This, of course, is cause to reflect on our December kiddings.  For the past two years our does have been divided into a March kidding group and a December kidding group.  It has worked well for us.  Winter kidding obviously has its trials and is a bit more labor intensive (we’re in Missouri, so the winters could definitely be worse but are still below freezing) but the flip side is that we have kids reaching market weight right before Easter.  So we can sell when the market is at it’s peak in this area, which is no little thing to consider. 

Here is a glimpse of the amusement that these last kiddings brought to our farm:
 
Anyway, our December kiddings were overall a success, but started on a trying note.  Our first doe to kid was Ruth, a young first timer who went about a week early.  Luckily we happened to be out in the barn checking on things when she delivered twin bucklings.  One was 99% dead at birth, we managed to resuscitate it but it slipped away again a short time later.  

This is Ruth (Though mostly wild, apparently she is a ham for the camera...see following pictures.):

The second kid was loudly letting us know that it was alive, hungry and deeply offended at being brought out into this cold world.  But he was weak, barely able to lift his head and nowhere near trying to stand.  And, his mother wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

(Please note, I do not like goats in the house and firmly believe that they should stay in the barn with other goats whenever possible so that they don’t forget that they are goats.  However, there is one thing I despise worse than goats in the house and that is: COLD.  Especially at 1am.)   Therefore, after both my husband and I, the doe and the goat kid had all reached a suitable level of frustration I simply milked colostrum from the doe and we brought the kid to the house to warm up and gain strength.

 
After a successful round of tube feeding I fell asleep on the basement couch thinking, “Isn’t this the life?” - with my then 3 month old human baby in a bassinet on one side and a baby goat in an old playpen on the other.  Needless to say, between the two babies, there wasn’t much sleep for me to have that night ...
 
I remember making a comment after the first buckling died (the one that we had briefly resuscitated.)  It went something like this: One of the things that I really appreciate about working with animals/farming/nature is how they keep you humble and realistic.  There is a lot of self-empowering talk in society today about how “Anything you dream, you can achieve” and “You can be anything you want to be!”  I’m all about setting goals, having dreams, and working hard to see them come true - but I also think we have to be practical.  As a somewhat slight built 5'4" female, I’m probably never going to be an NFL football player no matter how much it may be my dream and I may want to do it.  (And no, that isn’t actually a dream of mine.)   But sometimes dreams and desires just don’t align with real life (or “whole life” as our 3 year old calls it.)  So, no matter how much, for example, I wanted that goat kid to survive - he didn’t.  I worked hard, did everything I know to do, hoped, prayed, willed him to survive, begged, poured everything I had into that tiny creature for the short time I had with him....I wanted him to live.  And he didn’t.  Which brings me back to my point: Nature keeps us grounded.  It’s hard, it hurts and usually it downright sucks, but generally it does us good to be reminded that we are not masters of the universe - not even our own universe.

Stay tuned for the 2nd installation of the kidding saga.  (And, in Ruth's defense, we were able to graft the kid back onto her a day later when he was able to stand and she has been a great mother since then.)
 

When I was a child in northern Missouri, our primary garden vegetables were tomatoes, corn, and green beans. My parents said those were the main garden vegetables when they were kids, too. So even though we had delicious homegrown and (though we didn’t know it) organic vegetables, I never actually ate asparagus until I was in college. And it was love at first sight.

Imagine a few years later when a friend who grew up in rural Kansas said they often found wild asparagus by the side of the road and picked it for that night’s dinner. That would be like finding gold, I thought. I think it might have also grown wild in northern Missouri, and I just didn’t know what it was.

The first time I ate asparagus, the family who served it said they always steamed it and served it lathered with mayo. Later I discovered it’s good just about any way. Maybe that’s why it appears in the oldest collection of recipes known to exist, the De re coquinaria, Book 3, by Apicius in the third century.

Asparagus is even a magical word. Spell it backwards and you get a food ingredient I like and a type of music I don’t like.

Not able to leave a good thing alone, I decided to experiment with asparagus. And here’s a great, simple recipe that brings out the best of this early-summer vegetable while making it fit for a king.

Asparagus with a Zing

• 1 lb. asparagus spears, washed, woody ends snapped off
• 1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
• 1/2 teas. dried parsley
• 1/2 teas. horseradish
• 1 tablesp. dijon mustard
• 1/4 teas. paprika (I prefer Hungarian paprika because it is sweeter, but regular will do)
  

Mix horseradish, dijon mustard and paprika into a paste. Set aside. Heat olive oil and parsley in a skillet on medium heat. When hot, add asparagus. Saute, with constant attention for five minutes. Pour off remaining oil, turn heat to low. Add paste mixture, blend throughout asparagus, and stir. Serve immediately.

Vince and I moved to Missouri in December 2006 from Kentucky. We thought our residence in Kentucky was a bit rural but moving to Nevada, Missouri, has brought a whole new meaning to “rural.” Even though we’re currently living in the city limits, we’re looking for land where we can have the freedom to grow and build as we please, without restrictions, covenants, city ordinances and . . neighbors! We have fallen in love with southwest Missouri and hope to stay in this area.

Vince has never had much desire for living in the country, but with the current economic times, and the need to feel more in control of our own lives, he is coming around, and we’re looking for more land. He wants to have bees. I want a milk cow. Of course, there will always be chickens and a big garden.

I love to cook from scratch and will share recipes here. I can as much as possible, so I’ll share my canning experiences.

I grind wheat to make yummy and nutritious whole wheat bread, so you’ll hear some about wheat grinding and bread baking.

I quilt (a lot!), so no doubt, there’ll be some quilting stories here.

For now, we’ll be happy with our 9 hens and our little garden in town, but I hope that very soon, readers will be able to follow along in our journey as we find the perfect piece of land and prepare to live “the good life” as amateur rural farmers.

A recent Recipe Box (“Gathering Recipes,” March/April) focused on social cookbooks and the “receipts” included that put the past on the dining table. Our Comfort Foods article for July/August takes a closer look at the handwritten recipe cards found in so many recipe boxes and cherished by family cooks everywhere.

So it was quite interesting when a new book arrived on my desk this week. Pot Roast, Politics, and Ants in the Pantry by Carol and John Fisher is an insider’s look at Missouri’s cookbook heritage, and it’s an interesting read to boot.

The Fishers quickly draw a reader into the world of Missouri cookbooks, and, even with 10 pages of editions listed in the bibliography, I suspect they barely scratch the surface of cookbooks compiled and published in the Show-Me State. Organized by the producers of such tomes, the book begins with a quick look at the history of cookbooks in the state. Earlier books were published, mainly for the European market, with the first known American cookbooks printed in the mid- to late 1700s. In 1796, according to the Fishers, the first cookbook written by an American author for American cooks was published – American Cookery by Amelia Simmons. More American-specific books arrived in the next century, including The Fannie Farmer Cookbook, written by Fannie Farmer who was with the famous Boston Cooking School at the time.

Pot Roast details where Missouri was during this time, and then continues with some of the early publications of cookbooks in the state, including the Julia Clark Household Memoranda Book, which was reported to be written by the wife of William Clark of the Lewis and Clark Expedition. Researchers, however, have concluded that the true author of the cookbook was probably Clark himself.

Full of such tidbits, the first chapter moves quickly into more detailed chapters such as “Community Cookbooks,” “Missouri Cookbooks Record History,” “Company/Product Cookbooks,” and “Kitchen Medicine, Housekeeping Tips, and Cookbook Literature.”

The extremely popular Joy of Cooking is mentioned in the chapter, “Individually Authored and Edited Cookbooks.” First compiled by Irma Rombauer as a self-published project in 1931, the cookbook has become a phenomenon in its own right. The Fishers suggest that Joy of Cooking has been so popular because Rombauer’s personality shines through on each page. There are personal suggestions strewn throughout the book, and cooks are put at ease by Rombauer’s honesty.

My work reference library includes copies of Joy of Cooking and The Fannie Farmer Cookbook.

The same chapter mentions Barbecuing and Sausage-Making Secrets by Charlie and Ruthie Knote, written in 1992 in Cape Girardeau, but the majority of barbecue cookbooks – a popular style of cooking, particularly in Kansas City – are mentioned in the chapter titled Company/Product Cookbooks. These books were originally produced as advertising tools by companies as a way to market new products. Some of the include the Aristos Flour Cook Book (published in 1911 by the Southwestern Milling Co. in Kansas City), the Rival Crock-Pot Slow Electric Stoneware Cooker Cookbook (published in the 1970s by the Rival Co.), and the Pet Milk cookbooks (published through the years by the Pet Milk Company specifically to promote their brand of condensed milk).

Authors Carol Fisher and John Fisher know their way around Missouri. Carol’s the author of The American Cookbook: A History, and John wrote Catfish, Fiddles, Mules, and More: Missouri’s State Symbols. They live in Kennett, Missouri.

Chockfull of interesting tidbits, glimpses of life in centuries past, and tastes of old-fashioned cooking and philosophy, Pot Roast, Politics, and Ants in the Pantry is a delicious spread for any cookbook lover’s palate.

Pot Roast, Politics, and Ants in the Pantry: Missouri’s Cookbook Heritage , by Carol Fisher and John Fisher, 2008, University of Missouri Press.