Seed Catalog Season

The Cook's Garden catalog arrived in the mail this week, just in time for dreaming about Spring.

Organic, dry-farmed Early Girl tomatoes

Leafing through it took me back to the winters of my childhood, when the ground was too hard to sink a shovel into and bare trees reached towards bleak skies threatening (or promising, on school nights) snow.

We'd sprawl in front of the fireplace with catalogs from Burpees and Parks, making our wish lists and trying to imagine the feel of heat and humidity that the photos of verdant gardens evoked.

These days, I'm not jonesing to turn over damp earth and nestle seedlings into their beds. I'd rather be cooking the ingredients than raising them, a task I leave mostly (and gratefully) to local family farms who bring their produce to my local farmers markets.

But the Cook's Garden folks seem to know this about me, for they've included tempting recipes and alluring photos. And they've called out the heirlooms and the organics. Now the seed of doubt is germinating - what if I can't find purple asparagus or pink-and-white-swirled chiogga beets at the market?
Perhaps I should try growing just a few things this year . . .

Hot Harvest Nights Cool Off

Just a few weeks ago, I stopped by my favorite local farmers' market after work, and really felt the "hot" in hot harvest nights. At 6pm, it was 90 degrees outside! The market was bustling with shoppers, and full of vendors with height-of-summer produce like tomatoes, eggplant, corn and zucchini. Since then, the days have shortened noticeably and the temperatures have dropped to autumn cool levels.

This market is one of the Peninsula's many locations that keeps a short season, opening in May and closing down in late September. (I hope to catch the very last one, this coming Thursday.) Last year, I wrote an article for Patch.com about where to find markets open year-round, or later into the fall. Now I'll need to consult it again, myself.

While I always feel a bit sad when Hot Harvest Nights shutters for the winter, there is something that feels appropriately seasonal about the decision. Set up on the main street of San Carlos, with businesses on either side, the good light falling on the vendors visibly wanes in the last few weeks of the market season. Could the city bring in lights and draw shoppers throughout the fall and winter? Probably. But the crowds would certainly thin, along with the lovely anticipation of the market's re-opening in May.

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.)

Let the Strawberry Bonanza Begin!

Frosty freezer strawberries

After years of living in the Bay Area, the start of strawberry season still takes me by surprise. April just seems so early. But the berries in my local farmers' markets are the real deal; and they are plentiful.
This weekend I bought a three-basket set of organics, and enjoyed passing them out to neighbors on the way home. Then I ate some more, froze a bunch, and well - snacked on some more.
The frozen ones make great ice cubes, as well as smoothie and yogurt parfait ingredients.
Best of all? From now until the seasons wanes in early fall (really! it's that long), they just get sweeter. This year, I pledge to find even more ways to enjoy them.

Fruit Smoothies - Not Just for Breakfast Anymore

This December, I'm thankful for the farmers market strawberries in the freezer. Without them, making fruit smoothies in the winter just wouldn't feel right. Although half the fun of smoothies is the free rein to experiment, to 'customize the food creation experience' (also known as playing with your food), I played around with ingredients just until I found my favorite combination, then stuck with it.

My Fruit Smoothie Blend:

• One nice, ripe banana
• A few chunks of frozen mango
• A few frozen organic strawberries
• Several dollops of plain, nonfat yogurt
• Some not-too-sweet juice, like pomegranate or limeade

Do I measure? No. Every batch comes out a little different, letting me sample and comment as if I had actually been innovative.
I throw all these into a Vita Mix or a regular blender, let them sit to temper a bit, then blend til it's soup. Mmm . . . cool, smooth and sweet like a milkshake, with less of a sugar rush, and ever so much more virtuous. Refreshing in the summer, and a little dose of summer in the depths of winter.

Servings
My version, as described above, serves two. You can also make the whole batch and freeze half, to serve one person twice. Just let it thaw sufficiently to stir all ice crystals in and get the lovely creamy consistency back.

Calories
About 100 per serving, if you use just fruit and non-fat yogurt.

Fat
Zero grams! But considerably higher if you substitute ice cream or a creamier yogurt (really not necessary, if you use a good brand).

Fiber
About 3 grams per serving. Mostly that's soluble fiber, plus a wee bit of insoluble (you need both for a high-fiber diet ). To work more in, try a sprinkle of ground flax seed.

Carbs and Sugar
Some people are worried about all the sugar in a fruit smoothie, either because of diabetes, the candida diet, or a low-carb diet like Atkins.
Bear in mind the sugars in the yogurt are low, and you are having a half banana, 2-3 strawberries, a few mango chunks, and a splash of juice in one serving. If your diet allows that, you are not only ok but also getting the benefit of the calcium, phyto-nutrients, and fiber. Pairing it with some low-fat protein might make it a healthy breakfast food, even with health concerns to watch. And a half-serving, frozen, would make a nice treat when you crave ice cream.

Is there any protein?
Yes! Fruits and vegetables do have protein; and dairy can be a vegetarian protein source, too. Most Americans get too much protein, not too little; but if you are a vegetarian body builder or other type of athlete, try adding some of your favorite protein powder.

Can you make a vegan fruit smoothie?
Yes. With yogurt, the standard version fits well into a lacto vegetarian diet (ie, no meat, but dairy is allowed). In that way, it is like a mango lassi at an Indian restaurant.
To skip the lactose, try a soy substitute, or almond milk or rice milk (plus ice). If your substitute comes pre-sweetened, be aware of issues with candida and diabetes. On the plus side, this version would have no cholesterol.

Catalan Spinach

In the spring and summer, this vegetarian tapas dish provides an alternative to fresh, raw spinach salads. In the winter, it assuages my craving for dark greens.

Catalan Spinach, or espinacas, is quick, easy and full of flavor. It's packed with phyto-nutrients, but not fat or calories. As you might guess, it's from the Catalan region of Spain.

Ingredients:
2 Tbsp olive oil
1/4 cup pine nuts
1/3 cup raisins
20 ounces spinach, cleaned and de-stemmed
1 ounce good basalmic vinegar




Prep:
1. Heat the oil in a large skillet or saucepan, and throw in the pine nuts.
2. When they begin to smell beautiful & sing, add the raisins.
3. Let the raisins plump for a minute, then add the spinach.
4. Toss for a minute while the spinach wilts.
5. Splash on the basalmic vinegar, and toss for another few seconds.
6. Salt to taste.

The spinach should be wilted, but still very green.
Serve immediately.

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.

Steampunk Epicurean

Pull a Google image search for "steampunk" and you'll see what steampunkers wear.
And YouTube has plenty of steampunk music videos.
But what do steampunkers eat?

Tea seems the most obvious choice - finger sandwiches, crumpets, scones, etc.
And everything else Dickens ever mentioned, or Jules Verne and HG Wells threw into their stories as incidentals.
Or, if you follow the Weird, Weird West off-shoot of classic steampunk, saloon grub.

But if you are going to create an alternate history, why not throw in some food realities of the re-imagined era, such as seasonality, locality and organic growing methods?  With, perhaps, some spices from The East.
Today's slow food dinners would fit right in.

Corni di Toro

Take the bull by the horns!

Corni di toro sound hot, and look suspiciously like chipotles, jalapenos, and other spicy pepper vareities; but they are actually sweet.  So if you've skipped chile rellenos or other stuffed pepper dishes from fear of scalding your taste buds, try these.

This summer is the first time I've seen them in local farmers markets, so they may still be a rare find for shoppers. Fortunately, many seed catalogs carry them.

Season Lengths

Finding strawberries in the local farmers markets from April (sometimes even February) through October (sometimes November) shocked me the first year I lived in San Francisco Bay Area.  The next few years, it still seemed odd but marvelous, a gift from a stranger too enticing to be trusted entirely.

At the West Seattle Farmer's market over the Labor Day weekend, the paucity of berries reminded me just how fortunate we are.  A half-flat of organic strawberries will probably not hit $10 here, even at the end of the season.  And the vendor in Seattle made it quite clear that the following week would be the last for his area's season.

On the other hand, he offered an item I have never seen down here - fresh blackberries. They do grow wild in the Northwest, in alleys and yards and public parks.  Anyone willing to get scratched and sweaty can easily fill up buckets in August, and make pies into the winter.  Perhaps I should have picked some of those up . . .

Bitter Eggplant?

What does eggplant have to be bitter about?
Could it be the way that so many get smoked down to a little bowl of baba ganoush?
Or perhaps the unjustness of its reputation as less than marvelous in any way?

Or - maybe it's the common misperception that all eggplant are the same, which this display clearly refutes (without even showing several more varieties commonly found in farmers markets here).

Ambrosia

If you like cantaloupe, an ambrosia melon will strike you as, well . . . ambrosia.
I have never encountered one in a grocery store, but talked to the farmer at her booth during Hot Harvest Nights. Watch out, she warned - a whole melon can disappear before the second person gets to try it!

Could it really be that luscious? Yes. But I only ate half the melon on my first try.

Green Wine

Everyone seems to define the new buzzwords "green wine" a bit differently.  To some, organic is the key.  To others, using primarily IPM (integrated pest management) and preserving local habitat.  Some also count practices like not burning the vine clippings,  powering vineyard equipment with biodiesel, and growing some varietals without irrigation.  Like most products using the 'green' label in marketing, you really just have to ask the producer what they mean.  In the case of Wolff Vineyards in San Luis Obispo, the answer gets quite lengthy, pairs well with amusing anecdotes, and comes with a palate cleanser of great views and fresh breezes.

The Wolff family's 125 acres of Edna Valley vines produce quite a variety of grapes, including two whites and several reds.   None of the finished vines are mass produced, or marketed too far afield.  The family of vinters prefer to have a small, loyal following of repeat customers.
While the 55 acres of dry-farmed chardonnay intrigued me the most, the family has been implementing a host of restorative practices on their land, well-summarized on their website.  Getting the full story is just one good excuse to visit.

Eat More Pie

Alice Austin's most recent work, Box of Happiness, offers a few pearls of wisdom for those who seek happiness: read a map; throw a party; drink coffee; sleep late; plant a garden; travel far; buy shoes.  And my own favorite - eat more pie.

Matt Harnack, of Grass Fed Films, explores how individual happiness is magnified when pie becomes a community endeavor.  His 12-minute documentary, Pie from Scratch, follows a high-schooler from San Francisco's Mission neighborhood to Pie Ranch in Pescadero, back to school, and ultimately to the Mission Pie shop that he helps to run.  Excellent story-telling, with beautiful visuals.  Makes me want to visit Pie Ranch, and also to eat more pie.


Pie From Scratch from Matt Harnack on Vimeo.

P.S.  If the embedded video doesn't play for you, go to Vimeo to watch it there.

Baby Food

Two of our friends recently had a baby; and sharing certain core values with us, they were concerned about having time to cook.  As it turns out, that's a valid concern.  Newborns want to eat practically every time they wake up - and they take their time doing it.  Then they have the nerve to expect that someone will carry them around, doing the baby dance and patting them lightly on the back.

Simple as it seems, this routine makes everything I take for granted nearly impossible.  Pop in the shower?  Not til there's another competent adult to key an eye on the little one.  Throw  a quick meal together on the stove?  Suddenly a herculean feat.  Even assembling a simple salad becomes a rare treat.

 

What could be simpler than salad?  Tear some washed greens, slice some veggies, whisk a little balsamic and olive oil together, and toss.   It only took me a few minutes.  But for the tired mom who'd been microwaving stews and soups and casseroles all week, just having fresh raw veggies was bliss.  Three servings of bliss.

Soup Season

Winter may be mild here - no piles of snow, no ice storms, and hardly even a frost to speak of - but it's wetter and darker, and sometimes very windy.  Which makes me crave baked dishes, and soups.

Today I threw some organic russet potatoes in the oven, and then stuck a big pot of (rice pasta) penne with marinara, sweet Italian sausage, and grated cheese in to join the spuds.  While all that cooked, I put together a big pot of vegetarian chili and set that to simmering on the stovetop.

Since chili tastes bests the next day, I may pull out the leftovers of last weekend's comfort food, a marvelous, hearty split-pea soup.  And for more inspiration, I may search Create TV's archives for Jacques Pepin demonstrating how to make his quick and easy potato leek soup.

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.

Cuban Black Beans

As Noche Buena (Christmas Eve) approaches, I start to dream not of gumdrops but of the marvelous Cuban feast for that night. Traditionally, the 24th is all about sharing great food with family and friends. The 25th is for church and/or laying around. And Epiphany, the 12th day of [la la la] is for gifts. A slower, sweeter approach to a winter holiday.

The menu varies a bit from family to family, but typically includes yucca, fried platanos, roast pork, and black beans with rice (aka moros y christianos - reflecting both Cuba's multi-cultural heritage and its sense of humor). An incredibly savory and gratifying meal.

In the summer, I cook the beans in the solar oven; but in the winter I love to have the pot simmering on the stove. Although it's terribly easy to start with canned beans, if I have time to think ahead and soak some dried ones I find the process more satisfying. (Gorgeous, warm aromas infuse the house.)

Hardly any great source of protein, fiber, and iron can be found more cheaply than dried beans; and they store as long as you need them to without any refrigeration or canning. Best of all, they are a vegetable always picked in season but ready to prepare at any time. And for me, Cuban Black Beans are in season all year.

Yamalot

If yar whatcha eat, then I yam what I yam. Technically, I'm a sweet potato, marketed here as a yam. A tuber by any other name . . .

Autumn brings out my craving for orange foods - pumpkins, butternut squash, acorn squash, and the almighty yam, sweetest of potatoes.

A baked yam makes my favorite second breakfast (the mid-morning snack that prevents the wolfing down of a super-sized lunch). Generally, I throw a few yams in the oven whenever I need to bake something else at ~350 degrees. Scrubbed clean, stabbed to avoid explosions, and lightly oiled, they emerge ready for butter and salt. For the next few days, 30 seconds in the microwave provides the best fast food ever.

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.