Archive for October, 2007
Hang Time
Let’s talk a little bit about preserving fresh herbs to use throughout the winter in soups, sauces, Thanksgiving turkeys, and anything else that can use a little flavor pick-me-up when the number of sunlit hours in a day drops below12. Some herbs dry well, some freeze well, and still others are best preserved in oil. But how is one supposed to know which method is the preferred? For me personally, I use the following formula: 1 part past experience, 1 part trial n’ error with new herbs, and 4 parts The Moosewood Restaurant Kitchen Garden book. A resource for all gardening questions, the MRKG has an especially detailed herb section that makes it a point to talk about how to preserve each specific herb. God bless ya, David Hirsch and company.
Now that the first frost has hit, I’ve decided to gather in many of the fresh herbs at the farm to dry and sell at Headhouse’s special day-before-Thanksgiving market. I’m also eager to put away some frozen basil and pesto for my own use. So let me show you how I’m doing these things. But first, here’s a list of the farm’s herbs and how I’m preserving each of them:
~ Marjoram – drying
~ Oregano – drying
~ Sage – drying
~ Dill – drying
~ Lavender – drying
~ Hyssop – drying
~ Yarrow – drying
~ Basil (green) – freezing with oil
~ Basil (purple) – freezing as pesto
Drying Herbs
The drying of oregano, sage, dill and lavender were fairly obvious to me from the start since I’ve used all of those herbs in their dried states before. Drying herbs is ridiculously simple and something you can easily do too by visiting your local farmers market and getting several bunches of the kinds you’re most likely to use over the winter. If herbs aren’t already tied into secure bunches, use a rubber band or twist tie at the base of the stems to create bunches. I personally like to use smaller bunches for drying so when the time comes to pack them up, it’s an easier process to get the leaves out of the smaller bunches.
But first things first. Once you have your herbs bunched, gently wash them in water, being careful not to bruise the leaves with any rough handling. Lightly shake off the water and then dab gently with a towel to be sure there’s no excess moisture. Find a nice dry dark place in your house – my basement works well since it’s dry, but don’t use yours if it’s prone to dampness. The kitchen is a good dry room, but often has too much light (light discolors the herbs). You can side-step this hurdle by tying a paper bag around your herbs and hanging them up. Don’t just place the herbs in the bottom of the bag and hang the bag though. You need to suspend the herbs by their stems to allow for good air circulation to avoid mold and uneven drying so wrap the bag opening around the herb stems and hang the stems.
Herbs will take a couple weeks to dry, depending on the type. If you’ve ever used dried herbs from the grocery store, you want that affect for your home-dried bunches. Once fully dried, hold bunches over a piece of wax paper or even just plain paper and run your fingers down each stem to remove the leaves. Once you have all the leaves removed, place them in a labeled ziplock bag or air-tight jar and enjoy throughout the winter. As a rule of thumb, when using dried herbs in recipes that call for fresh, reduce the amount by about a third as dried herbs have a more concentrated flavor.
I’m hoping to try my hand at tea making with the dried yarrow and hyssop. Both have traditionally been used to treat cold symptoms and a few other minor medical conditions. Have any of you made your own teas before? I’ll see what I can teach myself too and perhaps I’ll have a post later this winter on making herbal teas.
Freezing Basil and Other Herbs
As for basil, it’s a little tricky. While it’s not uncommon to find dried basil in the grocery store, it’s commonly agreed among chefs and other culinary experts that dried basil just isn’t the way to go. To preserve basil’s unique summery flavor, it’s best to puree fresh leaves in oil and then freeze it. The process is rather simple but a little more time consuming than drying. To make this worthwhile, be sure to have several cups of fresh basil leaves to start with as it yields small quantities of puree. Again to start, gently (very gently as it bruises easily) wash the basil and shake off the water. Remove the leaves from the stems and roughly chop. Place in a blender with a tablespoon or two of extra virgin olive oil and pulse. If a puree doesn’t begin to form, add a little more oil, about a teaspoon at a time until a smooth puree comes together. You don’t want to add any more oil than necessary so as to keep the basil flavor as potent as possible.
To freeze, I like to fill an empty ice cube tray with the puree so I have individual cubes that are just the right size for tossing into the soup or sauce pot. You can also freeze the puree in one air-tight container and thaw it as you need each time. If you are using the ice cube tray method, wait until basil cubes are solid and then remove from tray and immediately place in a ziplock freezer bag and return to the freezer. Ta-da! Instant summery basil flavor in the middle of winter!
Another very similar trick for basil is to make pesto and freeze that into cubes. Frozen pesto is a superb addition to most any pasta dish as well as some soups that call for both basil and garlic. If you decide to go the pesto route, just be sure to leave out the parmesan cheese as it will lose its flavor when frozen. Instead, add the cheese later when you’re cooking with the frozen pesto.
Chilly? Have Some Curry!
Whoa boy, has fall ever flung itself on us this week! Each morning I commute 10 miles by bike to work, an activity that has plenty of virtues but also several challenges. The current challenge being how to keep my face from freezing solid as my body adjusts to the sudden snap back into appropriate seasonal temperatures. Normally I don’t mind biking in the cold and continue to do such all through the winter, but that’s after a nice gradual change in the temperature over the autumn months. Getting used to cold weather biking is a lot like getting into the swimming pool for the first time in June…you’re better off if you ease yourself in one inch at a time. But Mother Nature continues to prove she’s not in a mood to be messed with this year, and I had no such luxury of easing into the near-freezing digits on the thermometer.
This morning as I was pedaling along, teeth a-chatter, I had visions of delicious curried mustard greens in my head (sugar plums aren’t in season yet). When I had this dish for dinner the sauce was so warming, the beans so silky, and the greens so satisfying…why hadn’t I thought to have the leftovers for breakfast?? Oh yeah, that’s right – no one in their right mind would consider curried mustard greens breakfast food. Well, by golly, if it’s in the 30s again tomorrow morning, I might just have to buck notions of traditional breakfast dishes and fuel myself with these spicy greens!
Quirky breakfast fare and chilly commuter cycling aside, I’m glad I’m getting to know the farm’s Osaka Purple mustard greens more – they’re quite mild but still retain enough flavor to add depth to the overall dish. And they’re just so beautiful to work with – the melding of the deep purple and cool green among the reddish veins makes me wish I was a better painter. I’d love to have a huge canvas of an oil close-up of these leaves to emphasis not only their colors, but also their texture.
Now then, here’s the part where you do as I say and not as I do. The original recipe I snagged from AllRecipes.com called for tomato sauce. I wasn’t exactly sure if they meant marinara sauce or tomato puree from a can. Since I didn’t have any puree but I did have the marinara, I went ahead with using that. I also added a little tomato paste (that I later realized was a “garlic pesto” variety instead of the plain stuff I’d meant to pick up at the supermarket) to be on the safe side. The dish was still quite good but more Italian in nature than the Indian delicacy I was anticipating, so in my rendition below, I’ve opted to suggest using diced canned tomatoes and no tomato paste so the curry flavor can come to the forefront more. That being said, if you aren’t a fan of curry but want to try this recipe still, use the marinara and some tomato paste. I will also be adding some toasted mustard seeds to the dish next time (and next time will be very soon, I’m sure) to increase the depth of spice. If I were using a mustard green variety that has stronger flavor, I wouldn’t worry about adding the seeds.
Oh, and I almost forgot another key change I made to the original recipe. It called for kidney beans but I opted for butter beans instead and highly recommend you do too. The butter beans add a real meatiness to the dish and their creaminess is a nice offset to the spicy bite of the curry. Plus butter beans (really they’re lima beans but I find calling them butter beans much more appetizing) are higher in fiber and potassium than kidney beans, filling you up more and alleviating muscle fatigue and cramping – a big bonus if you’re a daily bike commuter like myself or if you have some other daily workout routine.
Now that you know I’ll most likely be eating curried mustard greens for breakfast tomorrow, what’s the most unusual breakfast food you’ve had?
Check out this scarecrow Farmer Dave made.
I bet this guy could use some curried mustard greens
with all the chilly morning guard duty he’s doing!
CURRIED MUSTARD GREENS WITH BUTTER BEANS
Adapted from AllRecipes.com
1 bunch mustard greens (about 15 large leaves)
1 T. olive oil
1 small onion, chopped
1 T. minced fresh ginger root
1 large pinch of red pepper flakes
1 (15 oz.) can butter beans, drained and rinsed
1 (15 oz.) can diced tomatoes
1 T. curry powder
1/3 c. heavy cream or soy milk
1 t. mustard seeds (optional)
Bring a large pot of lightly salted water to a boil. Roughly chop greens and place in the pot, cover, and cook 5 minutes, or just until tender. Drain, and rinse under cold water.
Heat the oil in a skillet over medium-high heat. If using the mustard seeds, add to hot oil and cook until they start to pop. Add the onion and saute until lightly brown. Stir in ginger and then the red pepper. Mix in greens, butter beans, tomatoes (and juice), and curry powder. Let simmer for 5 minutes. Stir in the cream, and continue cooking until just heated through. Serve over rice for a main course or alone for a side dish.
(serves 4 as a main dish over rice)
Tart 2 of 2: Snappy Fruit
Why, hello there! I have to apologize for the delay in getting this post up for you. It was meant to be a companion piece to the chestnut tart, but life sorta got away from me over the weekend and I’m just getting back in my blog groove. I did cook up several delicious dishes the past few days so I’m looking forward to telling you about them over the course of this week.
But here we are now with Tart 2 of 2, an interesting mix between a cheesecake and a tartlet. The original recipe I used was for a large tart with only pears. Once again, I couldn’t resist the charms of my adorable three-inch tart tins. Nor could I leave out some apples since I still had several of the Nittanys I got from Three Springs Fruit Farm the other week at Headhouse. The Nittany apples, by the way, are a great bridge between firm baking apples and a sweeter softer eating apple. I love biting into one as soon as I get home from work, but they also proved perfect for this tart.
I think the best part of this particular tart process is making the crumbs for the crust out of the gingersnap cookies. Put the cookies in a heavy ziplock bag, grab a rolling pin and get out all your frustrations. Or, conversely, gather the kids together and let them have at it! Of course you can always take the easy route and whir them in your food processor (you lucky ducks that own one!).
With crops slowing down at Weavers Way Farm, I’m starting to branch out to other farms at the Headhouse Market for my ingredients. It’s nice to be able to incorporate a little more fruit into the mix. We have a few baby fig trees and raspberry bushes planted in our lower field, but it will be two or three years before the farm has any real substantial fruit offerings. I marvel at the fruit from local orchards and farms — when compared to the stuff in the grocery store bins, local fruit shines like jewels and waifs with delicate floral (and obviously fruity) scents that beg the passerby’s eyes and nose to let their mouth join in the fun.
It baffles me as to why someone ever thought putting wax and other “shiners” on fruit was necessary. The things sell themselves if you just let them be. But I guess that’s what happened with commercial farming and shipping across the miles – fruit in the grocery store was not left to ripen on the tree so merchandisers need to polish it up to make it appealing to the consumers shopping under flourecent lights. It’s sad (but true) how sterile my trip to the grocery store right after the Headhouse Market yesterday felt in contrast to the brisk breezes and dappled sunlight that accompanied my purchases from my brethern farm vendors. Of course, it’s even more fun to go pick your own apples and pears this time of year. I encourage you to browse www.localharvest.org to find some pick-your-own orchards nearby. Once your kitchen is brimming with a bushel or two of apples and pears, get crackin’ on this tart!
Ginger Apple Pear Tartlet
Adapted from AllRecipes.com
3/4 c. gingersnap crumbs (made from gingersnap cookies)
2 T. melted butter or margarine
1/2 (8 ounce) package of reduced fat cream cheese, room temperature
1/3 plus 1/4 c. granulated sugar, divided
1 t. all-purpose flour
1/4 t. vanilla extract
1 small egg, lightly beaten
1 small apple, peeled and thinly sliced
1 small pear, peeled and thinly sliced
1/4 t. ground cinnamon
In a small bowl, combine gingersnap crumbs and melted butter, tossing well to combine. Spray (2) three-inch removable bottom tart pans with non-stick spray. Press crumb mixture into bottom and up the sides of the tins. Bake at 350 F for 5-7 minutes. Set aside to cool.
In a small mixing bowl, beat cream cheese with 1/3 c. sugar, flour and vanilla. Add egg and beat gently or on low speed just until combined. Fill crusts 3/4 full with filling. Combine remaining 1/4 c. sugar with cinnamon and toss with pear and apple slices. Arrange fruit slices over cream cheese filling.
Place tarts on a baking sheet and bake in a 350 F oven for 20-25 minutes or until tarts are almost set up. Push up gently on tart bottoms just to loosen the tart, but do not remove from form yet. Allow to cool for about an hour before removing from tin, afterwhich chill in the refrigerater for at least 2 hours before serving.
(serves 2)
Tart 1 of 2: Chestnut Savoriness
There seems to be plenty of nostalgia to go around on this blog as of late. Well, prepare yourselves for yet another tale of my younger days. A few weeks back, I noticed the appearance of chestnuts for sale at the Headhouse Market. I hadn’t thought about chestnuts in ages, and the sight of them (and the sticker shock that followed shortly thereafter) reminded me of the many chestnut trees that surround my family’s farmhouse and dairy barn.
My paternal grandfather had a thing for nuts of all kinds. Besides planting the chestnut trees that still stand today, he imparted his interest in gathering nuts to his grandkids by taking us on walks through the surrounding woods to look for hazelnuts, black walnuts and any other variety of native nuts we could get our hands on. Too bad peanuts don’t grow in Pennsylvania because he took great delight in walking around with his pockets full of peanuts still in their shells, handing a few to me each time he stopped in at the barn, and we’d shell them and toss them back into our mouths, leaving a trail of empty shells behind us. While I do generally detest all nuts in baked goods, I still enjoy eating most right out of their shells.
To get back to chestnuts in particular, I would run around in the fall, carefully picking them out of their prickly protection, and use my teeth to tear into their soft shells. Once I got them started with my teeth, I’d peel out the meat inside and blissfully savor its buttery sweet flavor. This do-it-yourself approach to cracking open chestnuts has probably contributed to the poor health of my molars now, but I wasn’t thinking about that at the time. Eventually as I got older, my dad let me use his pocket knife instead. I mimicked my grandfather by walking around with pocketfuls of chestnuts during the months of October and November.
Knowing chestnuts were for sale at Headhouse and that there’s a chance some of you could even forage for them in areas around your homes, I thought I’d gather a big bag of them at my family farm to bring back to Philly to use in some recipes in case any of you were wondering what the heck to do with chestnuts. First off, I think I will always prefer them raw – if you haven’t tasted one, you’re missing out on a real treat. They have a soft texture that lends an almost buttery background to the mild sweetness in the foreground. They really don’t taste much like any other nut that I know.
My family never cooked with chestnuts though. While living in Europe for several months, I got a chance to try a couple cooked versions of chestnuts, my favorite being the simple treat of blackened chestnuts bought from street vendors in London parks. I also remember having them in a tart, so I went in search of a chestnut tart recipe for today’s post. Fittingly, I found what I was looking for on a London-based website, Merchant Gourmet. The recipe did pose a problem though…it needed to be converted to American measurements, a skill I’m still refining. I figured I’d take a shot at it anyway.
The end result was good, but I don’t think I converted the sugar amount properly. The tart wasn’t nearly as sweet as I was anticipating. I increased the sugar a bit in the recipe below, but am wondering if this tart isn’t meant to be all that sweet, even though the ingredients would lead one to believe it is. With a dollop of slightly sweet [real] whipped cream, it’s really quite a pleasant contrast of sweet and savory. The flavor also goes nicely with the sweeter fruit tart I’ll be posting next (Tart 2 of 2). As Thanksgiving menu planning begins in earnest, an assortment of these chestnut and the forthcoming fruit tarts would make a unique and eloquent spread for dessert. It’s also a great way to justify the purchase of some darn cute tart tins, should you need an excuse. Such was the case in my experience at least after a lengthy visit to the local kitchenware store.
CHESTNUT MAPLE TART
Adapted from Merchant Gourmet
1 c. of chestnuts (still in shells)
2 T. maple syrup
1 T. heavy cream
1/3 c. packed brown sugar
1 egg, beaten
3 T. butter
1/8 t. freshly ground nutmeg
8 oz. pie dough*
2 three-inch removable bottom tart tins
whipped cream for serving
*I used Deb at Smitten Kitchen’s pie dough recipe this time around. I might return to my own recipe next time as this wasn’t as flakey as my standby, but it was easier to work with. Visit her lovely blog for details on how to make it. When you have the dough together, divide it in two parts – one to use for this recipe and one freeze for another time. You could also use the store-bought pre-rolled variety if you’re short on time.
Roll out pie dough on a floured surface. Place a three-inch tart tin upside down on the dough. Using a sharp knife, cut around the tin, leaving an extra 1/2 inch of dough. Cut out a second circle of dough. Spray both tart tins with non-stick spray and line them with the dough, pressing it into the fluted edges of the tin. Trim off excess dough. Chill tins in refrigerator while you prepare the chesnuts.
Shell the chestnuts by cutting them in half with a sharp knife and then use your fingers to peel away the shell enough to extract the nut’s meat inside. This process will take a few minutes to complete for all the chestnuts. Roughly chop the shelled chestnuts and set aside.
Preheat the oven to 400 F and place the chilled tart tins on a baking tray. Lightly prick the dough and then cover tins loosely with foil. Bake at 400 F for 10 minutes and then lower heat to 350 F. Remove foil and continue to bake for another 5 minutes.
Fill each tart with half the chopped chestnuts. Beat the remaining ingredients together and pour over chestnuts, stopping just below the rim of the tart. Do not overfill as the filling does puff up in the oven.
Place filled tarts on a foil lined baking sheet (to protect against overflow) and bake for 25-30 minutes until filling is set up and pastry golden brown. Serve warm or cold with a dollop of whipped cream.
(serves 2)
Consuming the Details
It was the perfect storm on Sunday afternoon. The weather was cooperative, the kitchen was sparkling from a fresh cleaning, the fridge was full of amazing farm produce and HillAcres Pride cheese, there was a loaf of bread from Wild Flour Bakery in the cupboard, and the fruit bowl was laden with North Star Orchard pears. I couldn’t resist making an entire meal of it all. There would be soup and salad and the best grilled cheese ever!
And so there was a meal to make your heart pump stronger for all the healthfulness it created, both in nutrients and in beauty. But not before I laid spread eagle on my kitchen floor. Don’t worry – I didn’t have a bad accident with a stray peel of butternut squash on the linoleum. I just somehow awoke to the intricate details of my kitchen and felt an uncontrollable urge to take pictures of everything, many of which required unbecoming positions on the newly mopped floor. Fortunately there was only D and the cats to witness this display. You’re only getting the pleasing end results here.
I know we all rush around every day. Let’s face it, in this modern age, only humans two years of age or less aren’t strapped for time due to overbooking commitments while juggling family and personal needs. I’ve been cooking in the same kitchen for three years now, and I had never really stopped to contemplate the appeal of the sun shining in through the ruby glass of an antique decanter I have in my window. Nor had I noticed the pleasing lines of my table’s legs. I guess it took the perfect storm of ingredients and a lapse in obligations to heighten my senses – to really put me in the moment of being in this little crimson kitchen that I love full of the eclectic items I’ve collected over the years, about to use some of the highest quality fresh produce, cheese and bread I could possibly imagine.
I’ve been cooking since I can remember. In fact, if I can find it sometime, I’ll have to share with you this funny photo of me, about four years old, standing on a chair so I could reach the counter, covered from head to toe in flour as I helped knead bread dough. Cooking has by times been a burden, a distraction, a form of therapy, an experiment, an obligation, and most often a necessity. It wasn’t until this past year or so though that it became a luxury and an artistic expression for me.
By luxury, I don’t mean it’s scarce or an extravagance. I’ve cooked more the past year than I’ve ever cooked before. Rather, I mean that it’s a comfort, something that brings me great pleasure and energy. It’s a real treat for me. Due in large part to this blog, cooking is also art for me as I attempt to capture the beauty of fresh produce with my camera and my recipes. But the “art” of it is more than that. It permeates beyond blogging and beyond me, I think. Reading some of your comments and talking to folks at market, I’ve come to realize that fresh produce can really touch everyone’s sense of beauty and inner energy. It really inspires people. And it seeps into so much of what a person does, even beyond the kitchen.
This post isn’t meant to sound like a New Age sermon. I merely mean to express how I’ve become convinced that cooking with this fresh local produce creates healthfulness beyond the basic science of nourishment – minerals and vitamins and all the rest. Once you’ve seen the vivid color of butternut squash soup, you’ll want to paint an entire room rustic orange so you can have that bright happy hue surround you. After you’ve felt the texture of a glossy mustard leaf, you’ll want to capture it in textiles or paper. And after you’ve stared at the bulbous stem of a kohlrabi, you might just be inspired to sculpt or take up furniture making. Studying the details of beautiful produce so closely has helped me look at all the beautiful details that surround me. Cooking takes on a whole new meaning under these circumstances. You can consume the world and its artistic details with your eyes! And it’s all so very YUMMY!
BUTTERNUT SQUASH AND PEAR SOUP
Adapted from New Vegetarian Epicure
1 medium large butternut squash (about 1 lb)
1 large yam or equivalent
2 c. vegetable broth
1.5 c. water
1 stick of cinnamon
1 stem of rosemary
3/4 t. salt
2 T. butter
2 medium onions
3 large firm pears (Asian or Anjou varieties work well)
1/3 c. white wine
1/4 c. milk or half & half
a large pinch of white pepper to taste
Peel, seed and dice squash (see here for instructions). Partially peel and dice yam. Put both squash and yam cubes into a large soup pot along with vegetable broth, water, cinnamon stick, whole rosemary stem, and salt. Simmer over medium heat until tender, about 35 minutes. Discard cinnamon and rosemary.
While the soup pot simmers, thinly slice onions. Melt butter in a large heavy skillet and add onion slices. Lower heat to medium low and sprinkle with a tablespoon of raw sugar. Stir and let cook very gently until onions are caramelized – about 25 minutes. Peel, core and thinly slice the pears before adding them to the caramelized onions. Cook for about five minutes, stirring often, and then add the wine. Cover and simmer for another 10 minute s until the pears are very tender.
Add pear mixture to soup in pot and stir to combine. Puree with an immersion blender or stand blender. Add milk and the white pepper. Reheat at a simmer but do not boil. Garnish with a sprig of rosemary.
(Serves 6-8)
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