Archive for November, 2007
Quotable Kamp
This is going to be a quick post, mi amigos. As is the case with many of us this long holiday weekend, lots of family, cooking and shopping on the agenda. Not to mention that giant stack of pots and pans still in my sink from yesterday. But I did want to share another great book with you in case you have a foodie on your holiday shopping list that would like a humorous and comprehensive insider’s look at how America’s food culture got to where it is today.
The United States of Arugula, penned by David Kamp, is “the sun-dried, cold-pressed, dark-roasted, extra virgin story of the American food revolution,” as it proclaims on the book’s jacket. And so it is. Considering this is a non-fiction work covering more than a century of history, I was quite impressed with how Kamp manages to hold a legitimate storyline together that makes for an easy read. I do have to admit though that once or twice each chapter I had to thumb back through previous chapters to remember who Forgione or Gault were since the text is riddled with the names of foodie legends and pseudo-legends that the author introduces in full once and then later hurriedly refers to by their last name several chapters later. It’s a lot like playing “Memory”. But considering the breadth of his topic, it’s completely understandable (even admirable if you’re like me and don’t want to read an additional 300 pages of recap text) that Kamp asks his readers to put 2 and 2 together from time to time.
Thanks to this juicy text flecked with a rarefied form of celebrity gossip about the bygone stars of this nation’s gastronomic revolution, including Julia Childs, James Beard, Alice Waters, Pierre Franey, and Craig Claiborne among others, I now know so much more about the foundation of our modern passion for food, especially food driven by seasonal and locally grown produce. America really struggled to get a food “identity” and I’m glad this book is out there to help readers appreciate what it took to get where we are today and how “nobody” can quickly become “somebody” in the food world, given they have passion and creativity that’s fueled by good ingredients.
Unfortunately, this book doesn’t lend itself to many good quotes – not because it’s poorly written but because it’s so richly entwined that pulling a short quote out voids all its contextual meaning. Still here are a couple to ponder.
Quotes from The United States of Arugula by David Kamp:
Taken from an article by Sheila Hibben in The New Yorker in 1941 where she reported that she found “A farm cheese from Wisconsin that was one of those honest products that prove ours is going to be a great cheese country once the flood of processed stuff subsides.”
“In [Elizabeth] David, [Alice] Waters had at last found a food person in the Anglophone world who was speaking her language, calling for an honest, straightforward cookery, ‘carried out with care and skill, with regard to the quality of the materials, but without extravagance and pretension,’ to quote from French Provencial cooking (1960).”
To paraphrase a quote that I sadly forgot to underline, Jeremiah Tower of Chez Panisse fame, abided by a philosophy of “Get the freshest ingredients and get out of their way.”
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Which brings me to the discussion question for this post. What figure of the food world sticks out the most to you, for good or bad reasons? While I know he was once reputed for his seasonal cooking, I personally have huge problems with Emeril. I don’t think the man knows a lick about fresh produce since I’ve seen him repeatedly refer to a certain vegetable by the wrong name or properties. I greatly admire Alice Waters for her dedication to using simple fresh ingredients to inspire her menus. But she also had a sordid personal life and wore herself way too thin, traits that I hadn’t known about until reading this book.
Inside Out, But Oh So Right
I gave you pumpkin pop-ups with brown sugar icing for Halloween. Now I’m going to give you something even better for Thanksgiving — a very grown-up piece of candy that I’d venture to say even trumps the pop-ups. Wanna peak under the wrapping? I give you Inside Out Pumpkin Pie Truffles! “Inside out” because the “filling” is rolled in a “crust” of graham cracker crumbs. Or, if that only makes sense in my warped brain, just call them Pumpkin Pie Truffles.
I am an artist and pumpkin is my canvas. I’m not saying this with the least bit of pretension (okay, maybe a teeny bit). It’s just that any time I tackle pumpkin (in this case, the very last of the pumpkin puree from the cabin), I get a little wacky and creative. Like all art, some people appreciate my gastronomic tapestries more than others. For instance, I entered these little lovelies in a PIE contest yesterday, but they didn’t win. Disappointing? Yes. But considering it was a pie contest and these, for all their virtues, are not pie, it was to be expected.
Oh, you want to know why I entered them into a pie contest? It was a work thing. See, at my office there’s this annual pie (making, not eating) contest right before Thanksgiving, and since it’s nothing terribly official, you can enter just about anything you want as long as the word “pie” shows up somewhere in your entry. Commuter cyclist that I am, hauling a true-blue pie into work wasn’t really an option. Truffles seemed a good alternative. Pumpkin pie truffles seemed a very good alternative…. This is how my zany mind works.
D and I are also trekking to Albany for Thanksgiving and pie isn’t likely to hold up to that trip very well either. Wrapped in the little “take-out” boxes I printed and assembled, the truffles will be the perfect Thanksgiving hostess gift. Awww, so cute, right?
But really, despite the lack of a blue ribbon beside these babies, I can’t imagine something more delicious than the marriage of white chocolate, pumpkin, cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves. Oh yea, and a little brandy. Can you?
Since all the cool kids are doin’ it, I thought I’d wrap up this post with a collection of Turkey Day table worthy recipes from the archives, one for each course.
Appetizer: Chestnut Leek Parcels
Soup: Roasted Rosemary Potato Leek Soup
Salad: Candy Cane Beet Salad with Orange and Fennel
Main Dish: Caramelized Leeks and Herbed Goat Cheese Lasagna in Roasted Butternut Squash Sauce
Side Dish: Sorrel and Chevre Eggless Quiche
Dessert: Apple Dumplings
That Nibble You Have After You Wake Up From Your 3 Hour Nap: Beet Chips
INSIDE OUT PUMPKIN PIE TRUFFLES
A Straight from the Farm Original (loosely based off EagleBrand Truffle Recipe)
4 1/2 c. white chocolate (the best brand you can find)
1/3 c. pumpkin puree
14 oz. can sweetened condensed milk
1 T. brandy or cognac
1 vanilla bean
3 t. cinnamon
1 t. freshly ground nutmeg
1/2 t. ground cloves
2 c. graham cracker crumbs
In a double boiler or large heavy saucepan, melt chocolate and condensed milk together over low heat. Once chocolate is melted and smooth, add pumpkin and brandy/cognac and stir to combine. Cut vanilla bean in half and scrap out each half using the backside of a knife. Discard pod and add beans to pumpkin chocolate mixture. Stir in the remaining spices and remove from heat.
Chill mixture for 45 minutes or until it sets up and rolls easily into 1 inch balls. Roll balls using your hands (this creates a sticky surface on the truffles) and then roll in the graham cracker crumbs to coat well.
Chill finished truffles for at least 30 minutes before serving. Package in a nice box and present as a gift to your holiday party hosts or coworkers. To store truffles, keep refrigerated. They also freeze well.
(makes 50-60 truffles)
Filling In The Blanks
I was looking at my recipe index the other day and couldn’t believe I hadn’t made anything with broccoli yet. A perennial favorite for both myself and D, it somehow managed to slip through the cracks. I’d harvested several boxes of it from the farm back in the spring but had to get these two small heads at Headhouse since our broccoli has been kaput for several weeks now.
There’s nothing really revolutionary about this dish. I’ve found the key to getting the most bang for your flavor buck is using vegetable stock to cook everything instead of water. It’s a fast, easy, one-pot meal that’s bound to please just about everyone at the table, kids included.
Hmmm… I’m kinda stumped for anything else to say about broccoli and vermicelli. We all know the merits of broccoli so no point is spelling those out. Let’s see, what else is worth mentioning? Did I tell you yet that we had our last market day at Headhouse this past Sunday? It was quite sad to say goodbye to some of our regulars there. Still, it was time to go, if only because none of us could properly count money or open those pesky plastic produce bags anymore due to our frozen fingers. The market’s continuing to Christmas though (we’ll just not be there) so if you’re in Philly, please continue to patronize the die-hard farmers/producers there. Headhouse has been a real boost for our small urban farm. Thanks to this great market, we’ve managed to pull in several thousand dollars more in sales and far exceed our projected profits for the year! Thanks to Nicky for being such a great market manager!
Tomorrow I’ll regal you with tales of how I entered a pie contest without a pie. Curious? Trust me, you’ll want to check back and see this yummy treat (and potential blue ribbon entry?). It’s definitely a winner for Thanksgiving and Christmas hostess gifts!
BROCCOLI TOSSED WITH VERMICELLI
Adapted from Trim and Terrific American Favorites
2 c. fresh broccoli florets
5 oz. vermicelli or angel hair pasta
3 c. vegetable stock
2 cloves garlic, finely minced
1 T. olive oil
pinch of crushed red pepper flakes
1/2 c. grated asagio cheese
salt and pepper to taste
Place 1 c. vegetable stock in a medium saucepan and add broccoli florets. Steam over medium-high heat until florets are just tender. Remove from stock with a slotted spoon or spider. Add remaining two cups of stock to the stock in the pan and bring up to a boil.
Break vermicelli into 2 inch pieces and add to boiling stock. Cook for 7-8 minutes until al dente.
While pasta cooks, toss broccoli with garlic, olive oil, red pepper flakes, salt and pepper. Drain pasta and add to broccoli and toss well. Add most of the grated cheese and toss. Sprinkle with remaining cheese and serve immediately with a hunk of crusty bread.
(serves 2)
Don’t Be Fooled!
The Jerusalem Artichoke – what a tricky vegetable it is. The name would lead you to expect something greenish with layers of pointy leaves. It doesn’t look like that. In fact, it looks almost exactly like ginger! But it’s not at all similar to ginger either. And back in the 70′s it got renamed by California marketing gurus eager to get consumers more interested in this weirdo vegetable, newly dubbed “sunchoke”. So what the heck is it?!
“It” is a starchy root vegetable very similar to your everyday run-of-the-mill potato. But it’s nice to say you’re having Jerusalem artichokes or sunchokes for dinner instead of potatoes for the fifth time this week. I’m going to refer to them as sunchokes from here on out though. It’s easier to type. What can I say? I’m lazy (and apparently a sucker for marketing ploys).
I’d never encountered a sunchoke before until two weeks ago when their tall sunflower-like stalks at the farm got pulled up to reveal these funky roots. At Headhouse Market, I decided to poll everyone who bought them for their favorite way to prepare them and then try the best suggestion for myself. The winner was stewing them, largely because the young lady who told me about it mentioned how the sunchokes slip their skins after they are stewed so you don’t have to bother with peeling them. I didn’t really want to carve around each of the little bumps on each root. What I realized after I made this dish was that I really can’t imagine that you’d ever need to peel sunchokes, unless you want a very smooth puree. The skins are thin and tender – again, much like the humble potato only thinner.
Once I got started on the notion of stewing the sunchokes, I just went with my gut from there to make a final dish out of them. I had some fresh sugar snap peas still on hand from when I picked them a few weeks back. It’s amazing how long vegetables picked straight off the plant last in comparison to those being shipped and stored before hitting store shelves. No way would store bought peas have smiled as happily at me from the crisper drawer after two weeks of just chillin’, waiting for me to come up with a good way to use them. Some vegetable stock and herbs were all it took to create this hearty and flavorful first taste of sunchokes for me.
I gotta say, I’m pretty hooked on these identity-challenged veggies. Once stewed, their melt-in-you-mouth texture was silky and full of all the flavors I’d thrown in the stock, more so than potatoes cooked in the same fashion would have had. Venturing a guess here, I think the texture and flavor might have to do with the presence of inulin in the vegetable. Don’t ask me to explain inulin, just click on the link and learn all about it from dear ol’ Wiki. It’s similar to starch but more nutritious and a soluble fiber. Really, I can’t interpret all this scientific mumbojumbo. Just follow the trail of links through Wiki and find out for yourself.
But why the heck is it called a Jerusalem Artichoke?! Well, apparently, when it was first brought to Europe from North America (yep, this veggie is a native!), they called it “girasole”, which is Italian for sunflower (the photo above is of the flowers that grew on the top of their stalk so you can see why this is a viable explanation). Eventually the name morphed into Jerusalem. And since the plant is indeed a relative of the artichoke, you’ve got yourself a modern day Jerusalem Artichoke.
And now you know.
STEWED SUNCHOKES AND PEAS
A Straight from the Farm Original
6-7 sunchokes (about 1/2 lb.)
2 c. vegetable stock
1 sprig of fresh rosemary
1 t. chopped fresh chives
1 rind of parmesan cheese (optional, but highly recommended)
1 c. whole sugar snap peas
1 T. butter
1 T. cornstarch
1 T. water
1 T. dried marjoram
salt and pepper to taste
Cooked quinoa (optional)
Scrub sunchocks well to remove any dirt. Cut away any bad spots. Place sunchokes in heavy saucepan and add vegetable stock to cover (should be about 2 cuts, depending on size of saucepan). Add sprig of rosemary, chives and the parmesan rind. Bring liquid up to a boil before reducing to a gentle simmer. Cover and cook until sunchokes are fork-tender, about 15 minutes.
Add peas to saucepan and cover. Cook for another 2-3 minutes until peas are tender. Meanwhile, dissolve cornstarch in water. Melt butter in stock and add dissolved cornstarch, stirring until liquid thickens. Add marjoram, salt and freshly ground pepper. Fish out the stem from the rosemary and what’s left of the paremsan rind.
Serve straight as a stew or ladle over cooked quinoa for a full meal.
(serves 3-4)
Quotable Kingsolver
With winter sweeping in like a wolf on the hunt, I’m going to be changing the format of the blog (just a teeny eeny bit) to include some posts that aren’t focused on a particular locally grown vegetable and how to cook it. That’s not to say I won’t find a way to keep cooking local between my own preserves and those of friends and family, as well as with some produce from local farmers that are lucky enough to have greenhouses.
In any case, since my winter months are often imbued with reading (and knitting), I’d like to showcase a couple books over the next several weeks that I feel have powerful messages, as well as the occasional aside of comic relief. Together, we’ll hopefully get a little more educated about what’s being written on the subject of eating local and supporting small farms, including urban agriculture.
There’s no better place to start than the poignant volume, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver, which my coworker Carol was gracious enough to loan me. Thanks to an elaborate sticky-note system, I’ve managed to curtail my impulse to underline important points and scribble my comments in the margins. There’s a tremendous amount of discussion-worthy material in this book though.
Already a prolific writer, Kingsolver has now tackled an immensely broad subject (the value and purpose of eating local seasonal food) through her own personal journey. Full of pause-worthy quotes and a tremendous amount of research disguised as jaunty dialogue, I can’t put this book down.
Quotes from Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver
“What the fad diets don’t offer, though, is any sense of national or biological integrity. A food culture is not something that gets sold [in advertisements] to people. It arises out of a place, a soil, a climate, a history, a temperament, a collective sense of belonging… A sturdy food tradition even calls to outsiders; plenty of red-blooded Americans will happily eat Italian, French, Thai, Chinese, you name it. But try the reverse: hand the Atkins menu to a French person, and run for your life.”
“The baby boom psyche embraces a powerful presumption that education is a key to moving away from manual labor, and dirt — two undeniable ingredients of farming… When we walked as a nation away from the land, our knowledge of food production fell away from us like dirt in a laundry-soap commercial.”
“If every U.S. citizen ate just one meal a week (any meal) composed of locally and organically raised meats and produce, we would reduce our country’s oil consumption by over 1.1 million barrels of oil every week. That’s not gallons, but barrels. Small changes in buying habits can make big differences. Becoming a less energy-dependent nation may just need to start with a good breakfast.”
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Each quote makes a tremendous amount of sense to me, but then again I’m closely tied to farming. I’d love to hear your thoughts about them. What, in your mind, constitutes a food culture/tradition? And how do you rebuild one that’s apparently as defunct as America’s? Or isn’t ours defunct? At one point Kingsolver goes so far as to suggest American school kids take an entire course on agriculture. Is this too drastic a measure? Has our society become too removed from “dirty” work? Knowing that it will reduce our nation’s oil consumption by so much, are you now going to eat one “local” meal a week? Let’s get some chatter going here, people!
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