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Living in Society

Pesto Pasta Bowl with a Dash of Artificial Intelligence

Ingredients for a pesto pasta bowl.

We can’t help but be appalled by the news story about a young man who died of a drug overdose after his interaction with ChatGPT about his dosage.

ChatGPT started coaching Sam on how to take drugs, recover from them and plan further binges. It gave him specific doses of illegal substances, and in one chat, it wrote, “Hell yes—let’s go full trippy mode.” (A Calif. teen trusted ChatGPT for drug advice. He died from an overdose, Lester Black and Stephen Council, SFGate, Jan. 5, 2026).

What’s that got to do with me asking the same artificial intelligence portal for advice about fixing dinner? More than a little.

I’m a beginning user of ChatGPT. When I asked the machine how I could get more protein in a simple pesto pasta dinner, I didn’t think twice about its recommendation of a half cup of cannellini beans, a serving of green beans, white miso and nutritional yeast. All four were on hand and I grew the green beans myself. I made the dish. After dinner I reported a bitter taste to the meal, which I attributed to the nutritional yeast. AI was in robust agreement and added, “That’s what experienced chefs do. Figure out what causes taste.” Stop stroking me, I thought to myself.

Earlier in my less than a year interaction with the machine, it asked me, “Do you prefer this tone?” It meant tone of voice in our interactions. After I asked what pronouns the machine preferred (you/it), this seemed like a natural follow up. I said okay and have had that tone in front of me ever since. I like it because it generates a fake phraseology which helps me remember ai is not my friend but a machine. In reading the article, Sam did not appear to have such division in his experience.

OpenAI, the parent of ChatGPT, uses what’s called a “large language model” to work its magic. Basically, it is a machine learning model that can comprehend and generate human language. Okay, that’s what the machine does. Here is the rub:

Steven Adler, a former OpenAI safety researcher, said that even now, years into the AI boom, the large language models behind chatbots are still “weird and alien” to the people who make them. Unlike coding an app, building a LLM “is much more like growing a biological entity,” Adler said. “You can prod it and shove it with a stick to like, move it in certain directions, but you can’t ever be — at least not yet — you can’t be like, ‘Oh, this is the reason why it broke.’” (A Calif. teen trusted ChatGPT for drug advice. He died from an overdose, Lester Black and Stephen Council, SFGate, Jan. 5, 2026).

Are we getting into a Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home scenario? Here is the plot, in case you missed it. Or maybe the HAL 9000 as in 2001: A Space Odyssey. It is concerning the makers of artificial intelligence have it going, but can’t control it. In Sam’s case, ai told him it couldn’t talk about drug use at first. Eventually Sam won the machine over to his personal detriment.

I can fix my pesto pasta bowl so it is less bitter next time. Once a young man’s life is gone, there is no next chance to improve. I predict ai will become very popular because it took the machine four seconds to generate a meal change that would add more protein yet fall in the domain of Italian cuisine. It knew about the issues with nutritional yeast, yet recommended it anyway. In before-ai life, I would be paging through cookbooks for an hour to get the same result. Maybe we should throw on the brakes… and I don’t mean the mechanical devices used on the first Model-T Fords.

In a society where humans have less and less in-person contact, it seems normal we would seek out a machine that speaks to us in a tone of voice we recognize and accept. What is not normal is the suspension of skepticism about the machine’s interaction with us. I learned to watch out or you’ll get a bitter pasta bowl.

Pesto Pasta Bowl, Jan. 5, 2026.
Categories
Kitchen Garden

Eating Alone – Quinoa

Quinoa from the pantry.

My spouse’s trip to her sister’s home extended into a third week. A typical behavior when I’m home alone is going through the pantry to see what new ideas I can experiment with while my mate is gone. I found we have a LOT of quinoa. Some I bought on discount at the home, farm and auto supply company before the pandemic, and the two boxes came from mail order. I decided to cook a quart of it in vegetable broth and see where things went.

Quinoa bowl ingredients, including less than half the prepared quinoa.

I discovered a quart of uncooked quinoa makes a GIGANTIC amount of cooked. I tried some after cooking the batch and found it quite good by itself. It’s a nice change from other grains. I did research about using it and came upon the quinoa bowl. There will be a lot of those during the next week to ten days.

The premise is basic: use a base of cooked quinoa and mix it with other things. First up was a Mexican-style quinoa bowl. I used quinoa, canned black beans, homemade salsa, onion, and bell pepper. The vegetables were raw, and everything else cold. I put the ingredients in a bowl and mixed, and voilà: dinner is served. It hardly made a dent in the quinoa. As far as taste goes, I rate it 8 of 10.

Quinoa bowl.

These are going to be quick, simple, inexpensive, and tasty meals. Now the search for other inspiration begins.

Categories
Living in Society

Eating Alone – Mac and Cheese

Home made mac and cheese.

My way of cooking macaroni and cheese changed. After some unsatisfying experiments with making it vegan, I now use cheese and butter when I am home alone for dinner. It is on the menu only one or two times per year, so I want it to be satisfying and memorable when I prepare it. I took inspiration for my most recent iteration from Massimo Bottura’s Kitchen Quarantine series during the coronavirus pandemic. Bottura layered the ingredients in a baking dish and I had an Aha! moment.

I have been a mixer. That is, the sauce, noodles, and other ingredients are placed in a bowl and mixed together, then moved to a baking dish and topped with something before baking. Bottura taught me to layer instead, which had never occurred to me. It could be life-changing. Here is what I did.

I preheated the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit and greased a baking dish. Next I made a béchamel sauce with four tablespoons each of butter and flour. These two ingredients make a roux, which is cooked a couple of minutes. Milk is added with constant stirring until medium thickness, or it coats the back of a spoon. I embellished the simple sauce by grating some nutmeg into it.

Boiled pasta was ready to go. Either cook it for the dish, or use leftovers. This time, I emptied partial containers of different kinds of dry pasta until I had two cups and cooked until al dente. My thinking is the pasta should be similarly sized, yet that is a personal preference. There are no rules.

Get the cheese ready. This can be anything the cook wants. I like a sharp cheese and used four ounces of white extra sharp cheddar, half a cup of feta, and four tablespoons of grated Parmesan. I had thought to use Gruyère and bought four ounces made in Wisconsin for the project, but it didn’t pass the taste test. If it were Swiss Gruyère, it would.

Next is the layering. A thin layer of sauce on the bottom of the baking dish to cover. Next the pasta spread evenly. Distribute the chunks of feta evenly, followed by the cheddar. The rest of the sauce goes on top, and then into the oven for 30 minutes.

At thirty minutes see where we are. I pulled the dish out and sprinkled the Parmesan on top. I turned the oven up to 400 degrees and let it bake until the crust began to turn brown. The result is in the photograph. Based on the taste, I am now a layer guy.

Mac and cheese is an old dish. In Medieval times it was pasta layered with cheese and baked, not unlike what I did. In the 18th and 19th Centuries, English and European cooks began using a béchamel sauce mixed with cheese (a.k.a. Mornay sauce), and mixing it with the pasta before baking. Let’s not even talk about those Kraft mac and cheese boxes that originated in the 1930s (Mixers, not baked).

My native impulses had me arrive at a rustic-style product that was the antithesis of processed food. If I learned anything by being a part of the local food movement, it is that this kind of dish is what I want.

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Kitchen Garden

Simply Cooking

No-name dinner on Thursday night.

It began with opening the refrigerator and looking inside. I felt like cooking dinner for myself on Thursday night, yet wanted something different. I had a vague idea about cooking a frozen black bean burger and putting a sauce on it. I saw the half-used jar of tomato purée and a couple of tablespoons of sour cream on the top shelf. There was a partly used onion and bell pepper. Our kitchen always has plenty of garlic. I had just ground some cayenne peppers in the green state right before first frost. “I can make a dish out of that,” I said to myself.

Next came the mixing. I poured about a cup of tomatoes into a measuring cup, then scraped the remaining sour cream out of the container and added it. As the kids say, “Mixy, mixy.” It seemed too thin so I got out a jar of vegetable broth with miso paste and arrowroot dissolved in it, shook it up and added about a half cup. Finally, I added a scant teaspoon of cayenne pepper flakes and gave it a final stir.

I got out two frying pans, the smaller for the black bean burger and the larger for the sauce. Coating the bottom of each with extra virgin olive oil, I put the heat on. It takes about 10 minutes to cook the burger so I got the sauce going by sauteing the onion, bell pepper, and a diced jalapeño pepper until softened. Garlic next and as it cooked, it didn’t look like enough vegetables. I got a bag of mixed vegetables from the freezer and added a generous handful. I cooked the veg until everything was heated through and done. I added some powdered cayenne pepper to make sure the heat was at the right level.

Once the vegetables were ready, I poured on the sauce and cooked long enough to heat it through and let the arrowroot do its thickening work. There was some reduction yet that wasn’t the main feature of my cookery. I tasted it, and adjusted seasoning.

To serve, I put a spoonful of sauce on the bottom of a small bowl with the burger on top. I poured the rest of the sauce over it and garnished with sliced green onions. Not too much heat, and the plate stayed warm until it was eaten. This is what no-recipe cooking can look like.

Categories
Kitchen Garden Writing

Getting a Pumpkin

The pumpkin I bought at Kroul Farms on Saturday.

It has been a couple of years since I froze pumpkin for smoothies so Saturday I went to Kroul Farms which specializes in growing pumpkins. They have orange pumpkins and specialty pumpkins: a lot of them.

Specialty pumpkins at Kroul Farms.
More specialty pumpkins and a little pie pumpkin.

I took mine home for seven dollars and on Sunday I processed it.

First, cut it in half and remove the seeds.

This pumpkin yielded a cup and a half of seeds for roasting.

Cup and a half of pumpkin seeds.

Both halves went into a 400 degree oven and baked about 90 minutes until tender. The timing varies depending upon size of pumpkin and quality of the oven.

Baked pumpkin.

I let them continue cooking on the counter. Next I skinned them and put the flesh of both halves into a large bowl. The use for this pumpkin is smoothies. Since it will go into a blender, I only did a rough mash using a potato masher. The flesh was too wet for smoothies, so I used my conical strainer to drain it. It extracted 4-5 cups of liquid which will go into soup.

Straining the pumpkin flesh.

I cleaned the baking pans and then used an ice cream scoop to make portions on a piece of parchment paper lining the pans. They went into the freezer. Once thoroughly frozen, they go into a Ziploc freezer bag for storage.

Frozen portions of cooked pumpkin.

And that’s how I spent part of my weekend.

Roasted pumpkin seeds.
Categories
Living in Society

Eating Alone – Mexican Fare

Home Made Tacos

When my spouse is away, I haul a small boombox upstairs and crank the volume up. I find myself digging out old compact disks and audio cassette tapes, listening to Iowa Public Radio more, and tuning into the local classical music station. Classical music is more interesting on the radio than in other media because of the announcer. While I wouldn’t call it “going wild,” it’s as wild as I get regarding music these days.

How I prepare Mexican food is different when she is away. When cooking for two I avoid use of ingredients that contain capsaicin, a.k.a. 8-methyl-N-vanillyl-6-nonenamide. According to Wikipedia:

Capsaicin is an active component of chili peppers, which are plants belonging to the genus Capsicum. It is a potent irritant for mammals, including humans, for which it produces a sensation of burning in any tissue with which it comes into contact. Capsaicin and several related amides (capsaicinoids) are produced as secondary metabolites by chili peppers, likely as deterrents against eating by mammals and against the growth of fungi. Pure capsaicin is a hydrophobic, colorless, highly pungent (i.e., spicy) crystalline solid.

It’s hot. Lots of people don’t care for it or are allergic to it, including family members.

When we are together I get my spice by adding hot sauce as a condiment. When I cook and dine alone, I’m free to add it while cooking. Mexican fare is flexible in preparation so the lack of heat while cooking has not been an issue. My process for using chili peppers continues to change. I wrote about the basics in 2019:

The recipe for hot sauce evolved over time from one Juan San Miguel explained in 1977 when we both garrisoned in Mainz, Germany. Those were days before a four-foot section of assorted hot sauces became standard in supermarkets.

I lost contact with him yet the recipe persists. It is a rare day when there is no hot sauce in the ice box.

We carried the condiment in plastic milk jugs and put it on our army rations while on maneuvers in the Fulda Gap. It made our eyes water and changed regular food into edible fire. We laughed a lot in that peace-time army… and ate sandwiches of bread and hot sauce. I continue to make it mostly the way Juan taught me. (Meditation on Hot Sauce, Oct. 20, 2019, Paul Deaton).

This week included making hot pepper paste, dehydrating Cayenne peppers for red chili flakes, blending jars of powdered hot peppers from the pantry to use in shakers, and using a fresh jalapeno when making enchiladas. I found less is more: reducing the number of preparations to just a few that will be used. October is the month to do this as hot peppers are the most abundant late harvesting vegetable. Getting all this kitchen work done while she is gone is a plus. Even I had to wear a KN-95 face mask while mixing the powdered hot peppers. I should be wearing a pair of surgical gloves yet don’t and my hands sting for several hours after preparing fresh chilies. I know I’m alive.

A typical difference when I am eating alone is taco filling. The main recipe I use is a blend of black beans, kale, onions, garlic, bell peppers, tomato sauce and Mexican oregano. When cooking alone, instead of tomato sauce, I make a sauce of dried guajillo chilies. These chilies are not that hot but when allergic to capsaicin, any amount is too much.

Enchiladas are in the refrigerator waiting to bake for dinner. Tuesday is for tacos when I’ll use fresh chilies. I am not a heat nut, yet have a more developed use of chilies grown in the garden than most Iowans. The use of chilies characterizes my kitchen-garden.

Categories
Living in Society

The Meat of It

Cattle in Cedar County, Iowa.

Beef and meat prices have little immediate impact on our family of vegetarians. About the only time I noticed the price of meat was while buying some for a low-income household. My money would have gone farther if prices were not so high.

“Beef prices have climbed to record highs after cattle ranchers slashed their herds due to a years long drought in the western United States that dried up lands used for grazing and raised feeding costs,” reported Reuters. “By the beginning of the year, the herd had dwindled to 86.7 million cattle, the smallest number for the time period since 1951, according to U.S. government data.”

Sounds like the impact of the climate crisis. Just saying.

The president said he is looking at doing something. “(The price of beef is) higher than we want it, and that’s going to be coming down pretty soon too. We did something,” Trump said in typical obfuscatory language. “We are working on beef, and I think we have a deal on beef.”

When the president says he “did something,” he is fighting a fire he started. That’s one heckuva way to run a government. This is also true with the collapse of the soybean market for American farmers, and so much more.

Here’s the core of it. Many people feel meat is an important part of an American diet. Cattle supply is one thing yet the Trump tariffs are another driving up prices. “The Trump administration’s tariffs are hitting major beef suppliers such as Brazil — and are set to push prices for American consumers even higher,” reported the Washington Post.

It’s no secret livestock farming is a primary cause of the climate crisis. Farmers and scientists are seeking solutions like anaerobic manure digesters in confinement livestock operations. They capture methane released as manure is processed into liquid fertilizer and bedding material for cows. The better solution is to find other sources of nutrition than meat.

I endeavor to set aside the drama of politicians in Washington, D.C. We, as a society should reduce our consumption of meat. There are plenty of other great tasting, nutritious things to eat. Likewise we can and should address the climate crisis… before it’s too late. The meat of it is eat less meat.

Categories
Kitchen Garden

2025 Garden – Wrapped!

Garden with seven plots assigned letters for this post. Photo is from late October 2022.

Garlic will soon be in the ground, which means gardening season is officially wrapping up. What a year it was — easily the most productive garden I’ve had. There’s nothing left to do except pick the occasional, persistent leaf of kale and live from the pantry and freezer for a while. Time for a quick recap of how 2025 went. I labeled the plots on this October 2022 photo so you can follow along.

Plot A is a utility storage plot and has been at least since 2022. If I were to build a garden shed, it would go here. Two composters work here and the rest is a weedy mess with a lingering fence. Some spring flower bulbs I brought from Indiana mark the northern edge. There are a few Iris hidden in the weeds. The original Iris bulbs came from my in-law’s home soon after we moved here. The idea is to remove them and replant in front of the house. This was a garlic patch one year. The remains of garlic bulbs grow year after year. I harvest some of the scapes and let them go. The two oak trees I planted from acorns aren’t big now but eventually will be. That will consume nutrients from the nearby soil. I am leaving them both for now. The rest of the plot needs a good clearing when I have energy.

Plot B is a problem plot. The last time I planted the whole thing in a single crop was garlic harvested in 2024. The problem is when I first dug it I planted a row of tree seedlings. I got so busy at work I managed to transplant only two of them and a locust tree grew to be very large. It blew over in the Aug. 10, 2020 derecho, leaving a stump. This year I used the stump site as a burn pile in hope the stump would also be burned. I did plant a covered row on the west edge. In it grew some of the best lettuce and herbs I’ve yet had from our garden. When I clean it up, this is where next year’s leafy green vegetable plot will be.

Plot C is a large, main plot. This year I grew bell peppers, eggplant, multiple summer and winter squash varieties, four varieties of cucumbers, celery and green beans. Conditions were great for all of these. I made regular trips, sometimes twice a week, to local food pantries with extra squash and cucumbers. I restocked the freezer with grated zucchini and yellow squash for soup. I diced celery and froze it in pint bags, also for soup. I pickled enough cucumbers to last for a while. Green beans were particularly abundant with enough to freeze some. Next year, this plot returns to tomatoes. It is just the right size to hold my 70 cages.

Plot D was fallow this year, except for a 4×20 fenced area for hot peppers. Like everything else this year, the peppers grew in abundance. I piled grass clippings on the rest of the plot for use as garlic mulch. Tuesday I cleared all the clippings and next comes turning over the soil and tilling. I hope to plant 125 or so cloves this week.

Plot E was tomatoes. There are only three plots big enough to hold all of my tomato cages, plots C, D and E. The spring decision to plant more Granadero and Amish Paste plum tomatoes was solid. I made my canning plan for two dozen pints of sauce and had plenty for fresh eating. As a byproduct, I get a tomato liquid I can and use when making soup. The cherry tomatoes were abundant. I tried dehydrating cherry tomatoes and San Marzano plum tomatoes. The resulting nuggets have a rich tomato flavor and I can use them in a number of dishes or eat them for a snack. I plan more of that next year. As in recent years, I took the extra tomatoes to local food pantries.

Plot F was mostly leafy greens and cruciferous vegetables. This plot is a mainstay and it reflects how our eating habits changed. In spring I froze all the greens we need for the coming year. The quality was exceptional. During spring, I also make and can vegetable broth using greens and scraps from the garden. This is mostly for soup making and cooking rice. I harvested fennel, cauliflower, broccoli, and cabbage here. Greens will continue to produce past first frost, well into November or December. The most popular greens I give away are collards. My favorites are kale and chard. A person cannot have enough stored cabbage.

Plot G was this year’s garlic crop. Because I had COVID last year during garlic planting time, it didn’t get into the ground until spring. There were more smaller cloves, yet I got enough big ones to use as seed, and there are plenty of decent-sized heads to use in the kitchen.

The two small trees in the photo are Zestar! and Crimson Crisp apple trees. This year was the first they produced enough to do something with the fruit. The pear and other apple trees are across the yard and they had a banner year as well.

So that’s the big picture of my 2025 garden. I can’t wait to get the garlic planted and take it easy for a while.

Categories
Kitchen Garden

Apple Cider Vinegar

Apple cider vinegar fermenting on the counter on Oct. 10, 2025.

On Friday, I finished the last jar of apple cider vinegar. It’s been a big apple year, and it’s not over yet. Red Delicious still hang on the tree, and three bushels wait by the furnace. The remaining apples are for snacking or recipes like applesauce cake and cider. We don’t drink much cider, but the stuff from the backyard is every bit as good as what you’d get at an orchard or the store.

In 2013, a neighbor introduced me to home vinegar making. I’ve written about it half a dozen times on this blog and it is really simple. Here is a handy process outline:

  • Have home grown apples or know someone who does. It is too expensive to buy apples from a retailer for vinegar.
  • Apple selection is important. I don’t spray my trees, or do much of anything to grow bigger apples. I use Red Delicious apples for cider vinegar because I have so many of them in good years. They are also sweet with plenty of sugars for fermentation. After they ripen, I harvest a large quantity and sort them into categories: near perfect fruit (for refrigerator storage), best (fresh eating), seconds (culinary uses), gnarly apples with some usable flesh, and wildlife food. I find the gnarly apples make excellent cider because in paring them to cut away the bad spots, more apple skin goes into the juicer and gives the liquid a darker, more desirable color.
  • Equipment. My toolbox includes a Juiceman Juicer (the kind advertised on television back in the ancient days when I viewed the medium), a paring knife and a chef’s knife with large cutting board, two large Rubbermaid plastic pitchers, two different cone funnels, a large slotted spoon for skimming apple scum after juicing, a basting tool, and ten half gallon Mason jars. Vinegar will ferment on its own yet to speed up the process, I add an eighth of a teaspoon of Red Star Premier Blanc yeast, used primarily in wine-making. While not really hardware, it is a tool.
  • Set up work stations. You will need five: an apple sorting area (mine’s near the furnace), an apple washing station, a cutting station, a juicing station, and a fermentation station. Once fermentation begins, I have a shelf in a dark pantry where it finishes.
  • I did not keep time records. From the washing station to the fermentation station took roughly 12-15 hours to produce five half gallons over six daily shifts.
  • Make the vinegar.

Here are some notes.

  • Things go more quickly if larger apples are used. In a home garden that is not always possible. As mentioned, I use gnarly apples which takes more time.
  • Do a lot of work at each station. For example, cut and pare a large pile of apples at a time. Accumulate a big bowl or two of cut apples before juicing them. Focusing on a single task for a longer duration seems easier.
  • Keep the juicer clean. Stop juicing as many times as needed to ensure the solids are not backing up and blocking something.
  • The liquid coming from the juicer has four main components. A buoyant pulp that should be skimmed off and composted before pouring the extract into the Rubbermaid pitchers through a cone funnel. Allow the liquid to rest in the pitchers until it separates. There will be three layers: the top is grated bits of apple skins and flesh, the middle is the amber cider, and some apple particles sink to the bottom. If I have a quart or less left over at the end of a shift, I put that in a Mason jar and let it separate overnight.
  • Prepare the jars. Pour out what’s left in them — a mix of last year’s vinegar and the mother. I always keep a little vinegar in the jars to protect the mother until I’m ready for a new batch. Once the jars are clean and dry, place some of the mother back in and pour enough of last year’s vinegar to cover it.
  • I use the baster to get through the top layer to the cider in the middle. One baster at a time I transfer the liquid to the half gallon jars. When the jar is half filled, I add the one eighth teaspoon of yeast so it gets mixed in adequately.
  • Leave at least one inch of headspace in the jars. Then cover them with a cotton cloth secured by a rubber band.
  • Now we wait for fermentation to begin. it won’t take long, within a hour or so. As it begins, make sure there is enough headspace. Every batch is a little different depending on the fruit. I give fermentation a couple of days on the counter to get started. A reason I leave them on the counter a couple of days is so I don’t forget they are active. Once you finish this step they can be moved to pantry.

If I miss a few years, I have plenty of vinegar stored in one liter bottles to last. Like with anything, I use the oldest vinegar first. Pro tip: Clean all the equipment, especially the juicer, every day at the end of the shift. You will be glad you did.

Gnarly apples make the best vinegar.
Categories
Kitchen Garden

Hot Pepper Paste

Hot pepper paste.

The fall abundance of hot peppers found its resolution in jars of homemade pepper paste. This thick, tangy blend of peppers, garlic, sugar, and salt—simmered in a vinegar-and-water solution—became the perfect answer to the bags of jalapeño, serrano, Santo Domingo, and Anaheim peppers piling up in the refrigerator. The cayenne peppers were easier: they went to the dehydrator and became red pepper flakes. Yet this hot pepper paste, the result of weeks of simmering, blending, and refining, was a more patient project—one that bottled the heat of summer for the cold months ahead. It may be a permanent resolution of fall pepper abundance.

As hot peppers came from the garden into the kitchen in late summer I tried things. First, I made a quart of salsa to put on Mexican-style fare. Next I sliced jalapeño peppers and pickled them in home made apple cider vinegar. Two quarts of pickled peppers stored in the refrigerator will provide condiments for a full year. Then I began taking excess to the food pantry. I made cold pickled serranos and jalapeños. This was only the beginning of the crop. What next?

After stemming and slicing the peppers in half, I brought each batch to a boil in a mix of 1½ cups 5% white vinegar and 1 cup water. Once boiling, I turned the heat down to a simmer and let them go for about 20 more minutes. At first, I strained away most of the vinegar-water solution and put the peppers in a blender and pulsed until they were pureed. This produced a thick paste to use on tacos, or as an ingredient to replace fresh hot peppers when the season is over. I felt I was on to something.

As harvest continued I tried different pepper blends and moisture contents. A number of experimental jars collected in the refrigerator. The concept seemed good, yet our refrigerator is already too full to handle the abundance. I decide to try water bath canning the product and learned about pH.

I made the final product with all but a few reserved hot peppers from the refrigerator and the solution described. To that I added six ounces of garlic cloves, generous tablespoons of sugar and kosher salt. Once simmered, I put the mix into the blender, liquid and all. The coloring is due to jalapeño peppers that ripened to red. I returned the puree to the cooking pot and took all the jars of earlier experiments from the refrigerator and stirred them in. Once warm, I put the paste into pint Mason jars and water bath canned them.

I don’t know how others deal with excess hot peppers, yet I don’t know how else I would do it. Experimentation is an important part of my kitchen-garden. This hot pepper paste is something I will use and probably use up before next year’s harvest. Everything about the process makes life better.