How To Cook Lamb: Recipe for Stuffed Mushrooms with Ground Lamb and Feta (& My Mother's Secret Ingredient)

Stuffed Mushrooms With Homegrown Lamb, Onion, Parsley & Feta

We always eat well when my foodie mother visits the farm. During her most recent stay we were so busy with lambing season (which is still dragging on by the way) most of our homemade meals came straight from the freezer. Last fall, however, we had a chance to do lots of experimenting in the kitchen, and I'm slowly but surely getting some of those new favorite recipes posted. Enjoy!

I'm embarrassed to admit that up until last November I'd never stuffed a mushroom in my life. I now realize this is tragic, and I'm determined to make up for lost time because I've also realized there are a lot of stuffed mushroom recipes out there. I mean, you can stuff a mushroom with just about anything! Who knew? Okay, probably everyone but me.

My late-in-life stuffed mushroom introduction happened purely by chance. After picking my foodie mother up at the airport last fall for her twice yearly visit to the farm, we stopped by Trader Joe's to stock up for our upcoming ten day cooking and eating spree. And there they were: packages of giant 'Stuffer Mushrooms' nudged up against the regular-sized mushrooms and screaming at me. "YOU NEED US! YOU WANT US! TAKE US HOME AND STUFF US!"

Thursday Farm Photo: Surf's Up!

The No Crossing Zone Is Back

This is where everybody usually crosses when our usually meandering little wet weather creek is running. Not today. It isn't quite the raging river it turned into last month, though there is supposed to be another storm hitting tonight. We definitely won't be driving through this anytime soon.

Fortunately earlier today I was able to ford the creek further upstream on foot, but only after taking all sorts of safety precautions as demanded by my visiting and very concerned mother. I was decked out in ratty sneakers (so my rubber boots didn't fill with water and drag me down), thin summer pajama pants (so my heavy denim overalls didn't fill with water and drag me down) rolled up above my knees, and my old glasses (so my new ones didn't wash downstream).

I was holding an enormous stick to keep me from losing my balance and washing downstream and had two syringes full of penicillin for the ewe battling mastitis poking out of one shirt pocket and a bottle of milk for her lamb in the other. I was quite the vision.

My mother also gave me instructions on how I should position myself when the water did start carrying me away - on my back with my feet out in front of me - which is apparently what you they tell you to do if you fall overboard when you're on a white water river rafting adventure. She goes on those sorts of adventures; I don't.

The good news is I survived - and barely got my knees wet. The better news is that all the animals are okay, and none of our very pregnant ewes decided to have a baby (or two) during the seven hours I wasn't able to get down to the barn today. Just cross your fingers that they cross their legs until tomorrow, because my mother says I'm not allowed to cross the creek for my nightly 3 a.m. lamb check, even though I told her she could come along and hold the spotlight so she'd be able to see if I was in the correct position when I started to wash downstream.*

© 2008 FarmgirlFare.com, the soaking wet foodie farm blog where the action and adventures never stop when you're living the so-called quiet, peaceful, simple country life.

* All lightheartedness aside, venturing into moving water can be extremely dangerous, and I know this from firsthand experience. The reason my mother was extra concerned today is because several years ago while she was visiting, the creek got up about 70 feet wide, and it rose so fast during the short time I was down at the barn that on my way back I was knocked down, pulled underwater, and seriously thought I was going to drown - and that was while holding onto a guide rope tied to two posts. It was only because she and a friend were holding onto either end of the rope and were able to lift my head up out of the water that I survived.

It only takes a foot of fast moving water to wash away a car. When you come to a flooded area, the rule of thumb is this: If you have to stop and ask yourself if it's okay to cross, then it's not okay to cross. Stay safe.

Quick & Easy Recipe: Roasted Red Pepper Tomato Soup With Onions, Garlic, Garbanzos & (Oh Why Not?) Artichokes - And Lambing With Your Mom

Healthy and homemade, fresh from the pantry.

How do you jump start a lagging lambing season? Try to make a flight at an airport that's 200 miles from your farm. Three lambs, including a set of twins, were born Wednesday morning as we were scrambling to get out the door.

Joe had to go out of town last week, so last fall we planned lambing season accordingly; it should have been mostly over by now. But apparently the sheep, or at least Studly Do-Right Jefferson, missed that meeting because most of our ewes are still pregnant. Or else they heard that my foodie mother, who I picked up at the airport after dropping Joe off, decided that this year she wanted to come visit during lambing season.

My mother's farm stays revolve around eating. Menu requests begin to arrive via e-mail as soon as she books her flight, and on the way home from the airport we stop at places like Trader Joe's and buy enormous quantities of food. Once she's here we make charts and lists of everything we want to eat and when we want to eat it (because my mother is a chart and list kind of person) and then we try to figure out how we can cram five meals plus snacks into each day.

Farm Photo 3/4/08: Auntie Rose

Sometimes Known As Hayhead

This is an actual conversation that took place last November.

My mother: What's that one's name?

Me: Auntie Rose.

My mother: That's kind of a dumb name.

My head turns, my eyes widen in disbelief.

Me: You named her!

My mother: I did?

Me: Yes!

My mother: I don't remember.

Me: It was years ago. For some reason we'd started calling one of The Chippers Uncle Chip, and you said there should be an Auntie Rose to go with Uncle Chip and we needed to name this ewe Auntie Rose.

My mother: I did?

Me: Yes!

My mother: I don't remember that.

Me: I always wanted to change her name to something else, but I was afraid I'd hurt your feelings.

My mother: I really don't remember.

Me: So you mean to tell me that all these years she could have had a better name instead of being called Auntie Rose?

My mother: I don't remember any of this.

Maybe my mother should enter politics.

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© Copyright 2008 FarmgirlFare.com, the hay covered foodie farm blog where almost everybody gets a name eventually, but it might take a while—and it might not be a good one.

100% Whole Grain Ginger Pear Bran Muffin Recipe Made with Honey (and Baking With Your Mom)

Moist and healthy bran muffins made without bran cereal and sweetened with honey. Going whole grain never tasted so good. Overripe pears are the secret!

November 2012 update: Click here to read rave reviews about these muffins from Farmgirl Fare readers, along with some great sounding recipe variations. And you'll find the original version of my wildly popular 100% Whole Grain Bran Muffins here (recipe includes four different flavors, plus all sorts of other ideas in the comments section).

"I'm getting tired of trying take pictures of bran muffins," I complained to my mother. "I love them, but they're just not photogenic."

"Why don't you take a picture of a perfect—oh wait, we don't have any perfect pears. I know! You can take a picture of that last overripe pear sitting next to a muffin!"

I pulled the pear in question out of the crisper drawer of the fridge and examined it.

"I can't put a picture of a bruised and battered piece of fruit on my blog. Nobody wants to see that."

"Why not? It's the secret to the muffins."