Aw, Shucks - the Fight for Drakes Bay Oyster Farm

If you've been lucky enough to visit the Point Reyes National Seashore, chances are you also made a stop in at the Drakes Bay Oyster Farm for some ultra-fresh bi-valves.
Whether you like oysters or not (I don't, but all my friends and relations seem to), it's fun to see Drakes Bay and the fascinating operation run by fourth generation of local family farmers.

Sadly, that opportunity may not last much longer.
For the last few years, there has been a huge cloud hanging over the community of Drakes supporters - renewal of the lease to operate an aquaculture business within national parks land. Recently, the National Parks Service denied the lease renewal; and now the matter is going to court.



 If you can make it to Petaluma on April Fool's Day (no foolin'!), enjoy some oysters for me at the fundraiser party there. If not, there's a donation button on their site, so you can throw in a few clams to help the cause.

The Kitchen Imp Gets Spicy

Are you a serious locavore, but love to cook with flavors from around the world?  Then there's two pieces of good news for you:

One of many Kitchen Imp spice mixes

1.  Chef Laura Stec, author of Cool Cuisine: Taking the Bite Out of Global Warming, understands just how you feel. She suggests a pragmatic approach - buy your meat, grains, and produce as locally as you can, and save your long-distance purchases for spices and flavorings not available nearby.

2.  The Kitchen Imp, a locavore cook based in Seattle, stands ready to help you spice up your culinary adventures with hand-ground and custom-blended flavorings.  When you order from her Etsy store, she'll even include a recipe to fit your selection. And the photos and descriptions alone are worth the visit.

If you want a glimpse into the Kitchen Imp's magic, pre- or post-order, you can Like the Imp on Facebook.

A Melon Named Charlene

Two reasons (among so many) to love your local farmer's market:
1. Really ripe, just-picked produce

2. Varieties of fruits and veggies you've never heard of before

After weeks of picking up cantaloupes in the grocery store, and being disappointed that they'd come off the vine so early the stem spots were still hard and no real aroma came off them, I was delighted to find a small, yellow-orange melon at my local farmers' market. I picked it up and the sweet smell leaped towards me. The sign by it read "Charlene." Never heard of that type before, but how can I resist a melon that self-advertises so vigorously?

Charlene was delicious - delicate and a little flowery in flavor. And she told me a joke, too:
Did you hear about the family with the sad puppy? It was a Melon Collie.
(Really, don't blame me for that one. Terrible puns are Charlene's only natural defense system.)

What are Grocery Lists For?

Earlier this year, I reviewed Living the Savvy Life from a green perspective (Does Savvy = Green?).  To the extent that being savvy means investing your time, energy and money on what matters to you, rather than just accumulating stuff, I found a close correlation of underlying values. And where food is concerned, the concept of keeping the kitchen a well-organized, clean, and joyful place to spend quality time making what you enjoy eating would resonate with most foodies, including the slow food-ists and locavores.

When I started to work through implementing the good advice from Chapter 10: Food, however, I hit a stumbling block right away. As I detailed in Kitchen Inventory Confessions, getting a handle on what's in my cupboards, fridge and freezer was both daunting and humbling. Loving food as I do, I'm prone to fall into the more-is-better trap here. While doing the inventory exercise helped me pare down a bit, it's got to become an ongoing task.

Hopefully the next step, creating a master shopping list, will help with that maintenance.  It should at a minimum keep me from ever winding up again with two open jars of peanut butter in the fridge, and one waiting in the cupboard. If I can find a really good smart phone app to move the items onto, that will really tip the scales in the battle against overstocking.

To simply the process, I skipped the recommended step of dividing staples by the best stores to acquire them from, meant to help reduce running-around time and increase trip consolidation (green points for driving less). Since 90% of my groceries come from Trader Joes on my commute home from work, the occasional Costco or Whole Foods item is easy to catalog mentally.

Looking over the list I came up with, some patterns are clear, and not always consistent with how I picture myself as an eater.  Most notably, lots of dairy. Half and half for tea, low-fat organic milk for nightly cocoa, nonfat yogurt for fruit smoothies, favorite cheeses, and eggs are always in stock. Breakfast and snack foods get replenished frequently; so they make the buy-now list regularly. In contrast, meat rarely makes the list, coming home occasionally almost as an incidental.  And with the exception of spinach for salads and favorite fresh fruits for snacks, produce comes home without being summoned by a list. Whatever's in season and looks good hops into the basket (then the trick is to make sure to use it quickly, before it wilts or goes fuzzy in the crisper). As farmers market season ramps up here, it will be interesting to see if we use the master grocery list more or less than during the winter.

The flip side of the list's usefulness, once you've gotten good at avoiding waste from accidental over-buying, is making sure to keep key foods in stock. For me the biggest key to eating well is having the right ingredients on hand when I need them. That includes healthy snacks, fresh fish and produce, gluten-free staples, and basic ingredients for quick dishes made from scratch. If I run out of the good stuff, I'll default to whatever else may be handy, including all the processed packaged foods that shouldn't be in stock at home anyway. So I'm arming myself with a good list to help me make good decisions between runs to the store.

If you've tried an app you really like to help take this tip paperless, please tell us about it!

National Food Day

Today was Food Day in the US, an event simultaneously disheartening and encouraging.

On the down side, having to declare a day to focus on real food suggests just how far we've wandered from having a real food culture. Would France have a Food Day? Or Italy? No - they have agri-tourism, stores closed mid-day to facilitate long, sit-down lunches, cafes with sidewalk tables for the simple pleasure of lingering over a cup of coffee while people-watching, and protests when a McDonald's is proposed in any historic venue.

On the plus side, the event was well-organized and clearly articulates a manifesto for constructive change. In addition, the publicity includes a host of excellent resources for interested Americans.

The real tests of Food Day's success will be what we do after this inaugural year, and how many years it takes to make the exercise obsolete.

Purple Cauliflower

purple cauliflower - Vancouver, WA farmers market

One of the many things I like about farmers markets is the interesting varieties of produce there. While grocery stores tend to carry just the most well-known, easily recognized fruits and vegetables, family farmers like to experiment, and bring the results to the market to share.  Where else would you find Armenian striped cucumbers, dry-farmed Early Girl tomatoes, corni di toro peppers, white eggplant, or even romanescu?  And, of course, someone who can tell you what that odd fruit or veggie is, and how to enjoy it at home.

Berry Seasons

Blueberries and marionberries in Vancouver, WA

Having lived in the northwest for so many years, the biggest shock for me at the farmers market has been the length of strawberry season in central California.  In Seattle, strawberries are glorious for a full month, in a good year. That month very rarely begins in late May, but more typically in mid-June. In the Bay Area,   I have found them beginning as early as February and as late as November. They tend to be a bit too firm and acidic at both ends of the season, but truly succulent at the peak, from June through August.

Blueberries start earlier here too, and seem to peter out a bit earlier than in the Northwest. Up there, marionberries, raspberries and blackberries arrive in late July and can last through early September. In fact, the invasive  species of Himalayan blackberry perfumes the air in August, along bike trails and within public parks. Why go to the farmers market for them when you can take a bucket to the rampant overgrowth within a few blocks of most people's houses?

For a locavore, California's longer seasons for many types of produce makes adhering to a target area (whether a home county, a 100-mile radius, or whatever metric one chooses) a bit easier. But at the same time, there is something about a very short season for a culinary treat that makes it that much more exquisite when it arrives.

Local Strawberries, All Year

Eating locally necessarily entails eating seasonally, as well - for the most part.  In fact, one of the joys of being a locavore is learning what ripens when in your area, anticipating that time, and making the most of it while it lasts.  Asparagus arrives in the market in spring, and for six weeks we put it in crepes, soups, salads, and grill mixes.  Tomatoes show up in the spring here too, but don't pop with flavor until late June or July (right into September, some years). For months, we go tomato-wild, indulging in caprese, tomato sandwiches, and a multitude of pairings.

organic strawberries fresh from the freezer

For many types of produce, just having them fresh in season satisfies me.  But there are a few items, like strawberries, that I want to use all year long. In season, I put them into many dishes; but in the winter, only into my stand-by breakfast and healthy snack, the fruit smoothie.  For years I bought bagged frozen berries from the grocery, feeling sheepish. Then I realized what a bargain a half-flat of organic strawberries at the season's peak really is; and I started freezing my own.  With a little forethought, it's easy to put up an ample supply for the winter.

Tips:
1. Don't cut or wash them until you are ready to freeze them.  If you need to store them first, put them while they are cool and dry into an air-tight container in the refrigerator.
2. When ready, de-leaf and cut them up in batches, then wash but do not dry.
3. Lay them on a tray, not quite touching, and place that in the freezer.
4. Wait a half hour or so, then transfer them to a bag.  The little layer of frost on each one keeps them from clumping up too much in the bag.
5. Put the bag in the freezer right away, to avoid thawing and clumping on re-freezing.

Attack of the Giant Zucchini

It's zucchini season! That time of year when renegade squashes appear in mailboxes, on the seats of unlocked cars, and upon doorsteps in the dead of night. Those of you who have ever been blessed with a bumper crop of burgeoning blooms, and the overnight wonders that accompany them, will be shocked to hear that I actually paid money for a giant zucchini this week.  At a roadside stand in the San Joaquin Delta, no  less - where they sell peaches and other ripe fruit.

Cats and zucchini - natural enemies.

But I spotted this humongous squash, as big as my forearm and twice as heavy, and all the other produce faded into the background. That's a lot of loaves of gluten-free chocolate zucchini bread, I thought to myself. Self, I said, how much could it possibly cost? One dollar.  I thought about buying two or three, but there's only so much room in my freezer. And besides, you never know when one might show up on my doorstep.

Moveable Feast for the Eyes

The first First Friday (7/1) at the San Mateo Expo Center, organized by Moveable Feast, provided a cornucopia for the senses. In addition to the tastes and aromas of the food for sale, there was live music.  And the visual panorama was surprisingly varied - food truck range from nearly spartan to downright flashy in their exterior decor. As they grow in popularity with mobile foodies, catching the attention of hungry pedestrians is growing in importance, also.

Armadillo Willy's food truck - Texas BBQ on wheels

Treatbot Karaoke Ice Cream Truck from the Future

Wow Silog truck - traditional Filipino silog style meals

Thai food on the go - House of Siam's food truck

Back of Babaloo food truck - cuban cuisine and art, too

El Ranchito's more traditional food truck look

The infamously-named Naked Chorizo truck

Kara's Cupcakes, with pink boxes from the truck window

Tikka Bytes contemporary Indian cuisine for Silicon Valley and beyond

First Strawberries

Strawberries have been on groceries shelves here in the Bay Area nearly all winter.  But that doesn't make them in season, locally.  Lucky for me, the season for growers vending at my local farmers markets is incredibly long (generally April - October, with a bit of a shoulder extension in good years).  I only have to quick-freeze a couple quarts to hold me through the dry spell.

Finding myself a few hours south, and close to the Salinas valley's produce bounty, I was delighted to discover one variety on offer at the San Luis Obispo Thursday evening market.
I brought home a three-pack, about 3 quarts worth.  About 2 quarts worth, after snacking on the car ride home.
The first strawberries of the season always surprise and delight me.  They lack the height-of season exquisite sweetness of mid-summer berries, but make up for it by reminding me what that distinctive mix of acid and sweetness brings.  And by giving me months of simple, ripe pleasure to look forward to.

More Produce, Less Plastic

Trader Joe's provides such a more enjoyable experience than most grocery stores, it inspires me to buy as many staples there as I can.  My willingness to choose them for fresh produce, however, has been limited not just to items unavailable at the local farmers' market, but also to items not ridiculously over -packaged in plastic.   Until recently, that left only a few offerings.

Over the last year or so, the stores in my area (always a qualifier, as stores vary by region, with localized offerings for some items - New England dairies on the East Coast, for instance) have transitioned to more and more un-packaged produce.  Where once were stacks of clear plastic containers holding six apples like a half-dozen red eggs, now there are apple bins.  Where once only bagged avocados or red peppers on a shrink-wrapped foam tray like a cut of meat, now these items two have bins.

TJ's really likes efficiency; and a key reason for the old presentation of produce was its choice to not slow check-out down by weighing any item.  In the new system, anything not sold in a bag or carton (such as pre-washed spinach or pre-cut fresh veggies) has a per-item price.  Each apple or banana or loose orange pepper costs the same as any other of its type, even if they vary a bit in size or weight.  As far as I can tell, this feature has not deterred the loyal shoppers.  It certainly has not me.

Dry-farmed tomatoes

On the very last day of the San Carlos farmers' market (Hot Harvest nights are a sadly limited season), I found the one item that will haunt me over the winter. My favorite organic farm stand (which has the loveliest strawberries in late spring and early summer, and gorgeous sunflowers for months) discreetly displayed a small table of brilliantly red tomatoes (next to the assortment of typically mottled-looking heirlooms). Labelled "dry-farmed Early Girls," they made me pause and think twice. Picking one up, it felt dense and a little tough-skinned, compared to the delicate heirloom tomatoes.

Handing my selection of modest-sized reds to the vendor, I asked about the dry-farming aspect. She said the fruit is super-flavorful, because no extra water suffuses the flesh in the way we are accustomed to seeing in irrigated varieties. Which is why, she added, "They have a cult following."

In a land of foodies and culinary fashion trends, the popularity of one varietal does not impress me much. But one bite converted me to a follower. As Basha described the experience, "This is the tomato of my childhood." They have the intense, sweet tomato-ness of her uncle's kitchen garden at his farm near Joliet, Illinois (before the new Federal highway system bisected the property). Not satisfied to wait til next summer, we are searching for them at several year-round markets nearby. A worthy quest.

Petit Aubergine

The Belmont (CA) farmers' market is not as large as many in the Bay Area; but it has its loyal followers and some delightful finds for them.

One of my favorite things about farmers' markets is the discovery of new varieties of produce, from ingredients I never knew existed to unusual types of common ingredients (such as Armenian striped cucumbers). In the supermarket, one is lucky to find eggplant at all, and then usually only the giant dark purple (aubergine) variety. If the store considers itself gourmet, a few of the long, slender Japanese variety may be offered. But never, ever, have I seen the reddish, petit type we found in Belmont. Not quite too cute to eat (what is?), they inspire me to think in new ways about how to prepare eggplant, beyond the usual stir-fry, baked parmesan, and roasting for baba janoush options. From diversity comes inspiration.

Homemade Yogurt

After making 30-minute mozzarella last summer, I was sure that Ricki Carroll's Home Cheesemaking could lead me through any dairy magic I dared. All the hard cheeses still seem a bit too involved for my liking; but yogurt was so obvious I couldn't ignore it.

At least once a week, I bring home a quart of non-fat plain yogurt, in a plastic quart container. These are very handy for storage; but now I have a life-time supply. Sure, they are recyclable; but do I have to keep generating more?

My first attempt at yogurt gave me enough anxiety that I consulted the book and bought a commercial starter (YoGourmet packets, from the grocery store). The instructions didn't match exactly, but were close enough to let me know where the wiggle room lies. In short:

• Heat a quart of milk on the stove to 180 degree Fahrenheit.


• Let it cool to between 105 - 115 degrees.


• Mix in the starter.


• Pour into a Pyrex quart measuring cup.


• Keep warm (incubate at about 110 degrees), covered, for 4 - 6 hours.


• Chill, covered, in the fridge.

Notes:
You can use a couple tablespoons yogurt as your starter, instead of buying it.
My milk thermometer is a little espresso temp stick; any thermometer for liquids will do.
On my first batch, I incubated in the oven, which over-heated the yogurt. Tasted great - don't know if the heat killed the active cultures, though.
On the second batch, I wrapped the container in towels and kept in an unheated microwave. Maintained about 100 degrees, and tasted great. Set up fine, not quite so firm.
My whole milk batch was really rich, creamy and high-calorie.
My 2% fat milk batch was tangier, and a little thinner.
I used Pyrex for heat resistance and insulation. Other materials are probably fine, too.
* Good, fresh milk really helps. I use Clover, because it is local to me and humane-certified. Never, ever use ultra-high pasteurized - everything good has been cooked out.

Home-made Mozzarella

Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle made cheese-making sound like so much fun, I bought a copy of Ricki Carroll's Home Cheese Making, got even more inspired, and ordered a variety of basic supplies. (My version of the $64 tomato? Could be.)

The bonus prize nobody mentioned is that making cheese is magic - true alchemy! 30-minute mozzarella seemed the best recipe to start with - quick, pretty simple, and yielding a key ingredient for our favorite summer dish (caprese). We read the instructions and also visited YouTube, looking for demos. The best one we found was about 5 minutes, not too polished, and was the only we could find using the microwave method for a small batch.

We expected the point where the hot curds turn into a shiny ball of cheese that you can stretch like taffy, roll into little balls, or even tie into a knot to be the highlight - but no. The coolest part was painstakingly heating the pot of milk (nice, fresh Clover milk from happy pastured cows not far from our home) and seeing the conversion of liquid into curds and whey. It's nearly indescribable - so I plan to make my own short video. Then no one will be able to resist being able to witness this revelation for themselves (or at least, if they resist, they'll know what they missed).

A Locavore's Dream Come True

The Bay Area must be one of the easiest places in the country for an aspiring locavore.

Today my local farmer's market opened; and I went mostly to see what could possibly be in season. In the grocery, most of the produce like red bell peppers is coming up from Mexico; so I figured there would be some root vegetables and winter greens - not much else.
What a surprise! There were only six produce stalls; but I could have made many meals from them, without sacrifice. I saw: artichokes, asparagus, potatoes, lettuce, spinach, mixed salad greens, onions, garlic, celery, carrots, chard, cauliflower, broccoli, cabbage, leeks, 3 types of mushrooms, zucchini, sweet peppers (red, yellow, orange and green), long neck squash, brussel sprouts, tomatoes (not so nice looking), old apples, cilantro and a few Asian herbs I couldn't name, strawberries, oranges, lemons, grapefruit, bok choy, and radishes. Not all of it was organic; but quite a lot was.

I budget my farmer's market visits like a trip to Las Vegas - I only take what I plan to spend. For $18, I picked up 2 gorgeous bunches of asparagus, 3 lovely artichokes, 1 bunch (6) of baby bok choy, and 3 quarts of strawberries. I learned that asparagus has been in season for 6 weeks already in the San Joaquin Delta; and that the season is less than half over. Of these items, all were hoped for, but only the bok choy was expected. I can't wait to see what comes into season next! And next week, I'll take two bags with me, and more money. It's a gamble I'm sure to win.

No More Crude in my Food

Today I watched the documentary Crude Awakening. It did a good job of instilling a sense of urgency about how unprepared we are to deal with life "after the peak," when the little bit of oil still available becomes very, very expensive. Along with all the things we take for granted, like car travel and food. Food?!

The film did not spend time letting individuals know what they could do to gain greater self-sufficiency through a low-carbon lifestyle now (the lovely footage of Amish horse carts notwithstanding). It's purpose may be to get us to demand political action, which surely is needed. But I would have liked to see some get-off-your-ass-and-act case studies. You know, people growing their own food or using farmers markets, otherwise becoming locavores, choosing organics for food and clothing, and giving vegetarian meals a chance now and then.

None of these things alone, or even cumulatively, will create more oil - but they do give us practice living with less, and help focus us less on despair and more on answers. For myself, I find I'm much more likely to demand support from my leaders if I know what's possible, rather than just what's wrong.