Egg-Free Thousand Island Dressing: The Next Installment in the Conservative Hippy's Cookbook

            For being a small village, our two stores really do offer some decent grocery options.  However, having a kid with food allergies limits that a little bit.  We are planning on having salmon quesadillas for lunch today with some Thousand Island.  So, Thousand Island dressing… great condiment, but it is made with mayonnaise which is of course made with eggs. 

            Chances of a three-year-old liking salmon quesadillas?  Pretty slim, but if I make them with an egg-based condiment that she can’t have… pretty much a guarantee that she will insist that they are her favorite food ever.

            In comes the Conservative Hippy’s Cookbook- egg free thousand island dressing.

 

It really is pretty easy.  Four ingredients:

1 Cup Vegan Mayonnaise (egg free by definition)

1/3 cup sweet chili sauce

2 Tablespoons minced green bell pepper

1 Tablespoon minced onion

 

Place all the ingredients in a pint jar and thoroughly stir. 

 

The first time I made this, I only had Sriracha… which is chili sauce, and from the perspective of a spice loving eater… made a heck of a condiment.  My not so spice-loving family members disagreed with me.  If you like spice… give that one a shot.  Great for dipping celery, wings, makes a great spicy Rueben. 

 

Put a lid and ring on it and refrigerate.  Goes great on sandwiches, quesadillas, salad, Big Macs (don’t tell McDonalds I gave you the recipe to their secret sauce), pretty much anything that would benefit from some zing.

Pretty basic ingredients.  Our village stores don't carry vegan mayo, but that is an easy find on Amazon.

Mrs. McBride's Sweet Potato Pie: Twenty Years in the Making

           “Steve,” my mom asked, “is there a kind of pie that your family usually has on Thanksgiving?”

            Steve and I had traveled up to Alpena from Hope College during Thanksgiving break for some time away from college, a chance to do some laundry for free, and for some home cooked food.

            “Well, my mom usually makes sweet potato pie every year,” he answered.

            “Oh… well, I’ve never made sweet potato.  I make pumpkin and it is pretty close,” she said concerned. 

            Mom is the classic Midwest housewife.  It was her goal, when I brought anyone home, to feed us good food until we were near bursting.  It feels like people from Michigan will pretty much go 20 miles out of their way in order to avoid being rude.  Steve, a big guy who can lift small cars with his legs, has a similar disposition even with his slightly more intimidating stature.

            “I’m sure it will be just great,” he smiled.  “I like pumpkin.”

            Mom took it as a personal challenge to overstuff us, “Would you boys like some more of anything?” she asked after we had had thirds on the first course and two pieces of pie: one of apple and one of pumpkin.

            “Oh no, Mrs. Harris, I’m good,” Steve had politely declined.

            “Yeah, Mom, I couldn’t eat another bite,” I added.

            “Oh,” she looked disappointed as though she had failed, “you didn’t like it.”

            Steve and I groaned as we worked on a third slice of pie and mom smiled.

            Years passed, and I thought of Steve pretty much every time my family had sweet potatoes.  Little Ellen came into our life and quickly established pumpkin pie as her favorite.  She also fell in love with sweet potatoes baked and sprinkled with brown sugar.  So, it is 20 years late, Steve lives in Michigan and I’m in Alaska, but I am finally getting to that pie.

            Steve was gracious enough to send his mom’s recipe and I have made a few changes to fit within our dietary constraints.  I’ll include both recipes and encourage you to try either or both.

            Again, our family has made some dietary changes for Ellen’s sake (she is allergic to eggs and we think dairy might affect her eczema), and Myra’s gluten allergy (we use Einkorn or gluten free flour for her), so this is kind of another installment of the Conservative Hippie's Cookbook.

 

Mrs. McBride’s Original Sweet Potato Pie Recipe:

* 1/3 cup butter or 1/3 margarine, softened

* 1/2 cup of sugar

* 2 eggs, lightly beaten

* 3⁄4 cup evaporated milk 

* 2  cups mashed sweet potatoes  

* 1  teaspoon vanilla extract

* 1⁄2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

* 1⁄2 teaspoon ground nutmeg

* 1⁄4 teaspoon salt  

* 9  inches  unbaked pie shells

Mrs. McBride’s Sweet Potato Pie with my vegan substitutions:

1/3 cup Crisco (I was out of vegan butter)

½ cup of sugar

3 t of Ener-g Egg replacer

¾ cup canned coconut milk (mostly the cream if possible)

2 cups mashed sweet potatoes

1 t vanilla extract

½ t ground cinnamon

½ t ground nutmeg

¼ t salt

9 inch unbaked pie crust (leave a comment if you want our gluten free crust recipe and I can post it)

 

DIRECTIONS

1. In a mixing bowl, cream butter (or Crisco) and sugar.

2. Add eggs (Ener-g egg replacer); mix well.

3. Add milk, sweet potatoes, vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt; mix well.

4. Pour into pie shell.

5. Bake at 425 degrees for 15 minutes.

6. Reduce heat to 350 degrees; bake 35-40 minutes longer or until pie tests done.

7. Cool; Store in refrigerator.

Should you make the vegan version without the eggs, just know that it will come out of the oven a little wobbly and won't pass the toothpick test.  Given time to cool down a little, the pie will firm up.

Well worth the 20-year wait- Thanks Mrs. McBride for a new Harris family favorite.

Planting Day 2020: Marston Victory Garden

Muktuk Marston Advances on the Field (Photo courtesy Ken Anderson)

“Remember how Mr. Anderson used to make all of this easier and fun?” I overheard someone say as he inserted his spade into the earth.

            Twenty or so of us had gathered to put in the half acre that had been tilled as we worked toward the full acre that was the goal.  We were reclaiming a field that had been left fallow for nobody could remember how long.  I didn’t take the comment as a barb, but more as a challenge.

            “This field used to produce so many potatoes and carrots,” was what was voiced with each shovel full of clay-heavy earth that was moved.

            Our spades hit willow roots and sod as we fought back the forest overtaking the field.  The little Kubota that was used to till the ground was no match for the years nature had been working on it, and the old John Deere A disappearing into the trees overrunning the field acted as yet another stark reminder of what had been.

            “I had an older guy teach me how to use a shovel correctly,” another man spoke up.  “Did you know the back of the shovel is designed for your foot to put weight on?” he asked his shoveling partner to the right.

            Evidently time had not only been taking back the field, but had begun erasing the knowledge of how to put one in.  We were catching it just in time for more reasons than one.

            It was not really doom and gloom though.  Even as people wore blisters onto their palms and sweat ran down their backs, smiles were on their faces.  They were waging the battle happily.

            “We used to have potato holidays,” Ike smiled as the spade went back through sod and clay.

            “Potato holiday,” Jeff educated me, “was what the school called it in order to con the kids into thinking they were getting the day off while they were actually getting free labor out of us.”

            “We would get prizes for biggest potato, smallest potato, ugliest potato,” Doris smiled as the memories turned over in her mind as she turned the soil over in front of her.

Ken Anderson displays a little of the harvest with his apprentices at his sides. (Photo Courtesy Ken Anderson)

            A slew of kids showed up as the first cut potato seeds were brought to the field, and they ran through the rows dropping seed a little more liberal than the adults intended.  They laughed and bounded, their energy both contagious and enviable.  Adults went and thinned and covered seed.

            “I’m glad our kids are seeing this,” a mom voiced, “it is important to know where our food comes from.” 

            “Potato plants come from potatoes?” her young daughter asked incredulously as she and her brothers ran about putting in seed, covering it up, and hauling compost.

            To them, this was the potato holiday revived.  They were loving the free labor they were giving.  Dirt coated their hands and decorated their cheeks.  The sun was warm, and a light breeze kept off the mosquitos. 

Kristin Follet with some eager assistants

            A group of adults cut seed at the picnic tables, a group of kids ran them to the field to plant, and another group of adults formed the rows and covered the seed.  It was labor intensive, but progress was being made.

            The original plan was to eat a potluck meal together after getting the field done, but the field had done us in.  Families packed up and went home having completed just a quarter acre, but it was a quarter acre in production that had been willows and tall grass before we had gotten there.

            Another quarter acre was put in by small groups throughout the rest of the week.  A couple people here and there would head up to the field.  An unknowing group of Alaska Airlines workers on a walk around town were roped into the project.

            “Hey,” they said as we drove by, “where you guys headed.”

            “Up the road to the potato field, want to come?”

            “Yeah, why not?” and they put in ten rows over two days.

            Though they would probably shake their heads at how we got it done, I am hoping Marston and Anderson would be proud of what we had accomplished.  We’re taking back their field one potato seed at a time and reestablishing our self-sustaining lifestyle.  Nobody said it would be easy.

 

Special Thanks to our volunteers:

 

Alaska Airlines Crew (Shawn, Mike, Brian, Feletti)

Brad and Kamy Webster Family

Doris Ivanoff

Ike Towarak

Jeff and Talon Erickson

Jeff and Kristin Follet Family

Luke and Kristen McDonald

Nick Bruckner

Marty and Jessie Towarak Family

Reid and Angie Tulloch Family

The first row of 2020 (from left to right: Luke McDonald, Nick Bruckner, Jason Harris, Marty Towarak)  

Another row with Jeff Erickson and Ike Towarak in the foreground- our memory banks of what the field was.