I Am Grateful

So Eli is probably the only person who will know why I gave this post the title, but I wanted to let her--and everyone else reading this know--that I came across a cookbook written by the chef at Cafe Gratitude. 

The best part of stumbling across this recipe is the comment left by one of the reviewers about feeling so peaceful after the meal ... which is exactly why we started this blog in the first place. 

Besides, I'm getting ready to roast another hog in a couple of weeks. I figure it's time for me to stock up some karma points in the meantime by exploring vegan cuisine.

Some good (local) coffee and meat

OK, OK, I am not against local food. In fact, I really like buying from local farmers, including in the Charles Town, WV farmers market on Saturdays. I just don't pretend that I am reducing my carbon emissions by buying from them.

I like two sellers in particular, Black Dog Coffee, which is run by a coffee fanatic, and Roxley Farms, which sells the best hamburgers I have ever had.

Eat less (meat), not local?

It's hot here in the DC region this weekend - pretty early in the season, if you ask me. So how can we contribute in the fight against Global Warming? Changing our eating habits (and discarding some earlier preconceptions) may be a bigger part of our battle kit than we thought:

It's how food is produced, not how far it is transported, that matters most for global warming.... In fact, eating less red meat and dairy can be a more effective way to lower an average U.S. household's food-related climate footprint than buying local food.

That is from a new study by Christopher Weber and Scott Matthews at Carnegie Mellon.

[GlobalGiving]

How to make a fabulous seafood dinner

Go to the coast of NH and get the following. If lobster is not available, you may go to Hannaford's Supermarket in Manchester, but don't give them your credit card, because they tend to lose that information.

Some Fresh Clams
Fresh Oysters
Fresh Lobsters
Greens


Give the Clams and Greens to your wife to fix
Give the Lobsters to your brother to fix
Shuck the Oysters yourself

Voila.

In praise of defiance

“No way I am going to charge people $10.50 a pound.”

That was what an old lobster fisherman outside of Hampton, NH told Mari this past weekend. We were on our way to the beach with my family and saw a hand-lettered sign that read “Lobster” and pointed down a gravel road. My brother was visiting from Guatemala, and he really wanted some lobster, so I took a right and wound around the back of a house to a small clapboard building at the edge of an inlet. There were lobster traps and other fishing paraphernalia stacked in the yard.

Above the door of the building was a sign that said it all: Defiant Lobster Co.

We went in and asked for lobster. The man told us that he did not have any. He said that it was the off-season for the NH lobsters, and that he usually bought lobsters from Maine during this time, but that the wholesale price was too high.

“Wholesale prices are over $9.00 a pound, so I would have to charge people $10.50 a pound. And I just won’t do that. I have been lobstering for over fifty years, and I have never seen prices this high.”

I was stunned. First, that he would only charge a $1.50 markup. And second that he would simply refuse to sell something at a certain price. The economist in me was doing backflips.

I spend a lot of time in Silicon Valley, where the talk is all about “scalability” and “margins” and “pricing power.” This lobsterman had pricing power over me – that’s for sure. I would have gladly paid $10.50 a pound or more, because I was in a hurry and really wanted that lobster.

But the lobsterman was not a profit maximizer – he wanted to make a decent income, but he also had a sense of what I have come to call market “aesthetics.” He would not participate in transactions that he felt were not right in some way.

This reminded me of a time in Indonesia when I was having a big dinner party, and I needed a whole lot of avocados. I went to a small stall at the market and told the man I wanted his whole stock. “I can only sell you ten,” he told me. “What? Why not all of them?,” I asked. I thought he would be overjoyed to sell them all at one time. “Because," he responded, "if I sold you everything I had, sir, I would have nothing to do for the rest of the day.”

Back in Hampton Beach, I thought about arguing with the lobsterman. But instead, I talked to him about the ups and downs of the lobster market over the decades - something I could never have done at the local profit-maximizing supermarket. And then I bought some really nice clams and oysters from him (at a price he considered fair), and I took them home. They were very good.

An Iron Chef Near You

(cross posted from RaisingMaine.com where I actually get paid to blog :)

I smiled with a bit of homesickness when I opened the food section of the paper this morning. Before my best friends got to be over thirty and we all scattered to the four winds, we were young lushes in DC. We spent many a drunken night in epicurian exploration, which led to the first of 3 iron chef competitions between myself and our best man, JB. What started as a simple wager (who could cook a better meal) soon became an obsessive, time and $$$ intensive competition -- 5-8 courses, with wine and cocktail pairings and experimentation to the highest end. We would prepare for day (s) in advance, and be exhausted at the completion. Our spouses relished in defining the secret ingredients (including the likes of caramel, lychees, Bourbon, and ginger); JB and I found intense competitive joy in continuously one-upping each other; and our friends invited as judges were lucky to be spoiled to the nines.

Apparently friendly iron chef competitions are becoming more popular amongst friends. It's really a good time (just don't let it consume you :); I highly recommend buying a few secret ingredients and inviting over some friends.

For the full article (and a few helpful hints), check out: http://pressherald.mainetoday.com/story.php?id=170446&ac=Food

Pickled Eggs a la Dacha

[Note: updated on 3/30/08 to increase the amount of salt and to add nori.]

Here is how you do it:

1. Go to Walmart and buy a gallon glass jar. Wash it with hot water, rinse well, and dry.

2. Get the following ingredients:
⁃ 18 eggs. Not too fresh because they don't peel easily after hard boiling.
⁃ 1/3 gallon of white vinegar
⁃ a little bit (not too much) balsamic vinegar
⁃ a cup of white wine vinegar
⁃ 1/6 gallon of water
⁃ 3 tbsp of Pickling Spices
⁃ 1 tsp tumeric
⁃ Hot banana peppers - 12 oz jar. Discard juice.
⁃ Salt - 6 tsp
⁃ Sugar - 3 tbsp (you need sugar to balance the vinegar)
⁃ Hot pepper flakes (optional if you have the bell peppers)
-About 4 sheets of nori (japanese seawed sheets), if you can find them

3. Hard boil the eggs and then plunge into a cool water bath. My brother says to not let them get cold, but I don't know if it matters. Maybe it does, maybe not.

4. When the eggs are cool enough, peel them (underwater is best, and start at the fat end), and put them in the glass jar.

5. Take the rest of the ingredients (except the water, which you can heat separately if you want) and chuck them in a big pot (preferably not cast iron, since it reacts with vinegar). Mix good. Bring to just under a boil, and then simmer for 5 minutes.

6. Pour the water into the glass jar on top of the eggs, and then pour the rest of the solution in there. Pour slowly and to avoid sudden major changes in the temperature of the jar so it won't crack.

7. Let the whole deal cool for several hours. Then stick it in the fridge for about 2 weeks. But you can try one egg after one week to see how it is. That is what I am going to do. I even read one guy's recipe who said it was good after two days.

Some additional notes and ideas:

a. Some people say that using the water included in this recipe is better because the eggs don't get as rubbery. Some recipes call for more water than vinegar. Other recipes call for all vinegar.

b. If this recipe gives you more liquid than you need to cover the eggs, you can just keep boiling more eggs and chucking them in there. Just make sure to keep track which eggs are done.

c. Washington State university says to stick the whole deal in the fridge right away after pouring the solution in the jar. But seems to me that that would heat up the fridge and wreak havoc. My brother tells me he leaves the jar out to cool for 2 days before putting in the fridge. The store out on Mission Road seems never to refrigerate the eggs at all (but on their other hand their eggs are not that good).

d. You can also use sliced onions and/or jalapenos - what ever sounds good is worth trying.

e. Try using malt vinegar or apple cider vinegar and brown sugar on a batch sometime and tell me how it is.

f. Hot spicy flavor is important for pickled eggs. They will be bland without the hot peppers.

g. Here is a guy named Stan who has done 18 batches if you care to read them all: http://www.eswood.com/pickledeggs/index.html

h. It is important to use enough salt to offset the vinegary taste. The nori seems to have the same effect - it "tames" the harsh vinegar.

Two Soups, Six Ways

It's soup season in Maine. With an arctic freeze perpetually hanging over my lovely state and more snow than the plows can handle (not to mention an infant who's witching hour runs the gamut from 6 - 9 PM), soup is the Stefanski's best friend. However, given that one pot will last us 3-4 days, and our foodie nature doesn't like monotony, I've focused on a good base that can be brightened up a number of different ways. Below are two recent creations and their variations.

Ribolita (Base)
olive oil
6 oz pancetta, chopped
2 c. chopped onion
1 c. chopped celery
1 c. chopped carrot
3 tbsp minced garlic
1 tbsp salt
1 tsp pepper
1/4 tsp red pepper flakes
2 16 oz cans cannellini beans, liquid reserved
1 28 oz can plum tomatoes in puree
7-8 c. chicken broth
1/3 loaf sourdough bread, cubed, crusts discarded
parmesan cheese

Combine olive oil, pancetta, and onion over medium heat and cook until translucent (8 minutes). Add celery, carrots, and garlic, cook until vegetables are soft. Add salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes.

In food processor, puree 1 can cannellini beans with a bit of the liquid, reserving the rest of the liquid for the soup. Add liquid, pureed beans, and the remaining can of beans to the soup.

Chop canned tomatoes and add, with the tomato puree to the soup. Add chicken broth, bring to a boil. Reduce heat and let simmer for 20 minutes.

Variations
For Ribolita -- put 1/3 of soup in a sauce pan over medium heat. Add cubed bread and heat for 10 minutes. Top with parmesan cheese and olive oil.

For Tuscan Bean Soup -- put 1/3 of soup in a sauce pan. Add 1 can garbanzo beans and 1 can kidney beans. Heat for 10 minutes. Top with parmesan cheese.

For Minestrone Soup -- put 1/3 of soup in a sauce pan. Add 2 cups chopped kale (or other green leafy vegetable... spinach, chard, etc) and 1 cup cooked pasta. Heat until warm and kale is reduced. Top with parmesan cheese.


White Bean and Rosemary Soup
olive oil
3 cups White beans, soaked over night
2 c. chopped onion
4 tbsp. chopped garlic
5 tbsp. chopped rosemary
6 + cups chicken broth

Saute onion, rosemary, and garlic over medium heat until translucent. Add white beans and chicken broth, simmer until beans are soft (~30 minutes). Puree in food processor, adding more broth to reach desired consistency. Season with Salt and Pepper.

Variations
Vegetarian Option -- Serve the soup as is. It's hearty, with lovely flavor.

Two variations with chorizo sausage and chard. Believe it or not, adding the same ingredients in different ways made for entirely different soups. For the 2nd evening, I sauteed 3 chorizo sausage and 1 bunch swiss chard in a separate sauce pan. I served the soup with a small topping of the mixture.

I added the same topping to the entire soup when I refrigerated it over night -- mixing it well. We ate it the 3rd day, and the soup had an entirely different flavor. Both were yummy.

Pies are the new...

In the same way violet is the new pink and blueberries are the new pomegranites, pies (or piemakers) are going through a bit of renaissance, surfacing in a combination of popular and indie culture.

Its yet another snowy afternoon in Maine (we've had storms every few days in the last two weeks, totally 18 inches on the ground -- a record for December). Scott, Willa, and I are nestled in with hot cocoa and tea. We just finished Waitress, a two and a half/three star indie film, about (go figure) a Waitress who's special place in life is creating pies. Savory pies. Sweet pies. Creative pies. Non-sensical but delicious pies (e.g. a marshmallow mermaid pie or Joe's Horny Past Pie).

The movie came out this summer, shortly before Pushing Daisies priemiered on ABC during the 8 PM primetime Wednesday spot. Pushing Daisies is one of the few TV shows that I'll make time for this season, primarily because I love fast paced dialogue, and well, its got a quirky unformulaic plot. Most of the show is based at the "Pie Hole," owned and operated by Ned, our hero, more often than not referred to as "the Pie Maker" by the show's narrator.

Which brings be back to my original conundrum which is whether or not pies or piemakers are experiencing the renaissance. I think its the latter, as I don't actually see any real pie creativity making its way into modern cuisine (and I should know, I live in Portland home to the creative economy and fabulous restaurants :) There is something however common about the piemaking characters. They are certainly all quirky. While not quite social outcasts, they seem to spend more time in their own heads than is generally accepted as normal. However, this lends itself to an independent persona than a character flaw. They are sympathetic, to the extent of being forlone, and they are sad. This doesn't quite mesh with the character of the pie -- which I generally characterize as down home comfort food, made by all around happy people (mostly women), with their trademark perma-grin.

So if indeed the pies and their piemakers are reemerging in life -- what/who are they replacing? I'm not sure there is a desert or occupation that currently holds that place in pop or indie culture...

This year's cookbooks roundup on Slate

Nice commentary on the year's best cookbooks from cookbook writers, chefs, etc. 3 pager, starting here.

Lamb Chops

So I love lamb —particularly lamb chops---and a while back I decided to try the recipe that Mari posted but since I was in a hurry and I didn’t have all the ingredients, I changed it up a bit. (I should’ve taken a picture because it looked pretty too!) This recipe makes about 8 lamb chops.

Ingredients

8 lamb chops
1 tablespoon cumin seeds
1 tablespoon caraway seeds
3 tablespoons (lightly packed) fresh cilantro leaves
2 tablespoons crushed garlic
1 tablespoon paprika
1 teaspoon salt
½ tsp red pepper flakes
5 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
½ tsp dried thyme (one day I dream of having a little herb and vegetable garden so I don’t have to rely on my dried herbs!)
1 tsp zaatar (this is a spice mixture of oregano, thyme, sesame seeds and some other spices. You can find green zataar at any Middle Eastern grocery store. It also tastes delicious on oven roasted potatoes)
½ cup chopped tomatoes
¼ cup chopped onions
1 tsp black pepper
½ tsp meat tenderizer

Preheat oven to 425F.

First, I crushed the cumin seeds in a mortar and pestle first but didn’t roast them. I added all the ingredients (except the tomatoes and onion and olive oil) to a bowl and mixed the ingredients. I coated the lamb chops with this mix and poured the oil on top of the chops and coated the chops with the oil.

I then lined a glass baking pan with foil and put the lamb chops on the foil. You can pour any marinade on top of the chops. Then slice onions and tomatoes in thin slices and put these on top of the chops. I sprinkled a tiny bit of zataar on top of the whole dish and then covered the dish with foil and put it in the oven.

Bake for 35-45 minutes.

Delicious and super simple. The lamb was juicy and very flavorful.

Maybe next time I will share my Thanksgiving experience too. Our halal turkey came from Detroit, feathers and all. Imagine 3 women (none of us ever having made a turkey) sitting there pulling out the feathers with eyebrow tweezers, knives, you name it. I have to say though—the turkey turned out pretty darn good at the end of the day!

Another Caja China Thanksgiving

I had actually vowed that our next Caja China adventure would be either a whole lamb or a goat, but our plans for Thanksgiving jelled too late for me to arrange for either:

me: I know it's late, but can you tell me if I can get one of the following from you: a) a whole lamb; b) a whole goat; or c) a whole turkey
organic farmer (from whom I buy lamb and goat chops): Well we don't sell lambs, and the goats we have you'd have to come and get live, we can't butcher it for you. I do have some tom heritage turkeys left.
me: (visions of bringing cute pet goat to WV with us in the back of the subaru station wagon together with our portuguese water dog and having to slaughter said cute goat) Er, I'll take whatever turkeys you have left. (no idea what the difference between a tom turkey and a non-tom.)

So I show up at the farmers market last Saturday, and discover that the smallest tom turkey is a 20.9 pounder. The cookbooks say that you should count on 1lb per person, 1.5lb per person if you want leftovers. Our guest list for Thanksgiving looks like 5 adults and two toddlers. But beggars can't be choosers.

And being a faithful Christopher Kimball foodie, I set about brining the turkey the night before. I have a brining bag (an essential tool if you want to brine without depending on the weather outside being cold enough to stick a turkey in brine in a cooler), but the Morton's salt, contrary to its slogan doesn't pour. As I try to maneuver to reach a chopstick to stick in the salt canister, the brining bag loses its balance on the kitchen counter, and about 12 gallons of water go all over the floor, in particular dousing my poor dog who has been sticking close to me in the kitchen hoping that I will drop something tasty.

Break in the action as I go find a rag and bucket to wipe up 12 gallons of salt water off the floor. I decide that I will not bother telling my husband about this since he was out battling other desperate husbands for the last loaf of bread for stuffing at the local supermarket (he had called earlier: "Listen, Panera's closed. The supermarket is about shopped out, but there are three kinds of bread here ... hang on [Hey, that's my bread.] just tell me which one you want.") and he's worried about the tom turkey getting cooked in time anyway.

But when husband comes home he goes to the basement to pick up something and he returns with furrowed brow, muttering something about another leak in the house (we have been plagued by leaks both in WV and in DC--flat roofs on both houses), so I have to confess. Including the fact that that's the reason the dog is sorta damp and he's looking very chastened.

So come Thanksgiving Day, we roll out the Caja China despite forecasts of rain, and heat the coals, tuck the turkey in, and pray that splitting the difference between the directions on the web and the pamphlet which was included in the original box (which I had, of course, left in DC) will somehow work. (Web instructions suggest a turkey takes 3+ hours, the pamphlet suggests that a turkey <20lb>20lb takes 2.5 hours). I shouldn't have worried. There were a couple of very dark spots (where the turkey, being as tall as it was, got closer to the heat source than might have been advisable) but it was the tenderest, moistest, tastiest turkey I've ever cooked. And it was done in 2.75 hours, all 20.9 lb of him.

Other dishes:
Cheese and Onion Pie
Tarte Tatin
Pecan Tassies
Arugula and feta cheese salad
Roasted butternut squash with Moroccan spices
Bacon, sage, and apple stuffing
Mushroom stuffing (vegetarian)

Homemade Apple Sauce

The weekend's weather could not have been more perfect -- blue skies and highs around 60 -- and made for excellent apple picking. We headed north to Ricker Hill Farm in Turner, an orchard specializing in P.Y.O organics -- including Cortland, Macs, Black Oxfords, and Sweet Jane's. Despite a slightly clumsy state, I still managed to pick a bushel and a half that should make for some good seasonal meals. I started last night with a homemade, and super simple, apple sauce to complement a pork loin and eat at will.

4 tbsp orange juice
1 tsp lemon zest
3 lbs mixed variety apples
3 lbs macintosh apples
1/2 cup brown sugar
2 tbsp cinnamon
1 tsp cloves
1 tsp nutmeg
1/2 cup butter

Preheat oven to 350. Toss together orange juice, lemon zest, and apples (peeled, cored, and quartered) and put in dutch oven. Top with brown sugar, spices, and butter. Cover and bake for 75-90 minutes. Whisk together.

It's a sweet apple sauce and when served warm could accompany a pork roast or vanilla ice cream equally well. I tend to like my daily apple sauce unsweetened, but I definitely won't mind tapping into this recipe for an afternoon snack.

Metaphysical Club for Development ... and Turkey Chili

About 2 months ago we started a little "club" at Bill Easterly's urging to get together and stake out new and unexpected directions to take development. Last night we hosted it at our place, which meant I needed to cook something that would not have me leaning over the stove at the last minute--it needed to be all done and ready by the time people showed up. Hence turkey chili, although in fact it got significantly modified both intentionally and unintentionally--but with good results, it seems. People really liked it. This comes from Bon Appetit by way of Epicurious, and my modifications are included. (and I'll try to remember to take pictures next time).

I served it ladled over brown rice.

Ingredients:

1 tablespoon vegetable oil
2 medium onions, chopped
3 cloves garlic chopped
1 jalapeno pepper chopped
1 1/2 teaspoons dried oregano
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 1/2 pounds lean ground turkey
1/4 cup chili powder [the unintended substitute was Berbere powder, because I thought I had chili powder, but didn't. I used a tad less than 1/4 c of berbere since it's hotter than chili.]
2 bay leaves
1 tablespoon unsweetened cocoa powder
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 28-ounce can whole tomatoes
2 cups chicken broth
1 8-ounce can tomato sauce
fresh kale, washed and chopped--quantity really depends on how large your pot is. It reduces a lot, but at the beginning you will be limited by the headroom in your pot
3 15-ounce cans small white beans, rinsed, drained

Shredded cheddar

Chopped red onion
Chopped fresh cilantro
Plain low-fat yogurt or light sour cream

preparation

Heat oil in heavy large pot over medium heat. Add onions, garlic, and pepper; sauté until light brown and tender, about 10 minutes. Add oregano and cumin; stir 1 minute. Increase heat to medium-high. Add turkey; stir until no longer pink, breaking up with back of spoon. Stir in chili powder, bay leaves, cocoa powder, salt and cinnamon. Add tomatoes with their juices, breaking up with back of spoon. Mix in stock and tomato sauce. Add washed chopped kale. Bring to boil. Reduce heat; simmer 45 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Add beans to chili and simmer until flavors blend, about 10 minutes longer. Discard bay leaves. (Can be prepared 1 day ahead. Cover and refrigerate. Rewarm over medium-low heat before continuing.)

Ladle chili into bowls over rice. Pass red onion, cheddar, cilantro and yogurt separately.

Serves 8.

Fabulous and Easy Short Ribs

I am a huge short rib fan -- the tender meat and infused flavor never fail to rock my world. Our food friends, Joe and Molly (and their soon to be foodie son, Gabe) were visiting this weekend. Mollly innocently suggested that she had seen a fabulous-looking short rip recipe (with gorgonzola polenta) in the recent Bon Appetit. I was immediately sold. The recipe, it turns out, was super easy, and produced amazing flavor. While the recipe calls for the short ribs to be marinated overnight in the herbs, I didn't have time, and instead chopped the herbs with a tbsp of kosher salt to release their flavor and created a rub. I immediately browned the the herb rubbed short ribs, dumped in a bottle of $10 cabernet, let it boil, and then put it in the oven. I didn't touch it again for two hours. The result was fabulous. I highly recommend. The gorgonzola polenta was good too, not too over powering for the subtle and rich flavor of the meat. I also nixed the sauce -- it turned out too greasey with the fat from the short ribs and the roux. It also tasted too salty and would have overpowered the meat.


8 to 9 pounds meaty beef short ribs
2 tablespoons chopped fresh rosemary
2 tablespoons chopped fresh thyme
1 tablespoon coarse kosher salt
1 tablespoon freshly ground black pepper

1/4 cup (about) vegetable oil
2 750-ml bottles Cabernet Sauvignon
2 tablespoons (1/4 stick) butter, room temperature
2 teaspoons all purpose flour

preparation

Planning tip:
With its various elements, this dish lends itself well to team cooking. Seasoning the meat ahead, making the gremolata, browning the ribs, and deglazing the pan are separate steps that allow everyone to take turns. But if you'd prefer to work ahead, the short ribs will taste just as good a day later. Either way, you're golden.

Arrange ribs in single layer in 15x10x2- inch glass baking dish. Mix rosemary, thyme, salt, and pepper in small bowl; sprinkle all over ribs. Cover and refrigerate overnight. Let stand at room temperature 1 hour before continuing.

Preheat oven to 375°F. Heat 2 tablespoons oil in heavy wide ovenproof pot over medium-high heat. Working in batches, add ribs to pot and cook until browned on all sides, about 8 minutes per batch, adding more oil to pot by tablespoonfuls as needed. Transfer ribs to large bowl. Pour off drippings from pot; discard. Add wine to pot and bring to simmer, scraping up any browned bits. Return ribs and any accumulated juices to pot; bring to boil. Cover; transfer to oven and braise until meat is very tender and almost falling off bones, about 2 hours. DO AHEAD: Can be made 1 day ahead. Chill uncovered until cold, then cover and keep chilled.

Bring to simmer before continuing. Using slotted spoon, transfer ribs to large bowl; cover tightly to keep warm. Skim any fat from top of braising liquid. Boil liquid until reduced to 2 generous cups, about 20 minutes. Mix 2 tablespoons butter and 2 tablespoons flour with fork in small bowl until well blended. Whisk butter mixture into reduced braising liquid. Whisk over medium-high heat until sauce thickens very slightly, about 2 minutes.

Divide Gorgonzola Polenta among plates. Top with ribs and sauce. Makes 8 servings

Gorgonzola Polenta:

5 cups (or more) low-salt chicken broth
1 3/4 cups polenta (coarse cornmeal)*
3/4 cup crumbled Gorgonzola cheese (about 4 ounces)
1/3 cup whipping cream
preparation

Bring 5 cups chicken broth to boil in heavy 4-quart saucepan. Gradually add polenta, whisking constantly. Return mixture to boil. Reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer until polenta is tender, stirring frequently and adding more chicken broth by 1/4 cupfuls if polenta is too thick, about 10 minutes. Remove from heat. Add Gorgonzola and cream; stir until cheese is melted. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

*Sold at some supermarkets and at natural foods stores and Italian markets. If unavailable, substitute an equal amount of regular yellow cornmeal and cook about half as long.

Planning tip:
Polenta sets up quite quickly and becomes firmer after cooking, so plan on making it as close to serving time as you can manage.
Makes 8 servings

Blueberry scones with spelt flour

This is a very belated post on blueberry scones. It comes from Cook's Illustrated--and according to my in-laws, the best ever scones they've had. The tricks involved are freezing the butter and grating it (instead of mixing in cutting in cold butter) before folding into the flour, as well as essentially rolling the blueberries in (like a jelly roll). It also worked well when I substituted spelt flour for half of the flour required. I'd have to transcribe my notes to get this recipe online, but if anyone is interested, I'd be very happy to share ...

Is local food better for you ...?

Swept up by Michael Pollan's oratory about his completely local meal, and the neighborliness of supporting local producers at our farmer's market, I have been steadily narrowing my choices down to fresh local food and feeling good about it. Trust Tyler Cowen to burst that bubble for me with the following post, which explains that depending on how that kohlrabi was conveyed to market, it may or may not have a larger carbon footprint than the organic food from Chile.

Aargh. And now I recognize that the appeal of eating local was as much about solving my paradox of choice than anything else--I like the idea of cooking with what's available, what's cheap, and what's abundant instead of putting together menus from scratch, and that's pretty much all there is to it. It's convenient--because it cuts through the data smog. And perhaps that's all the reason I need for now. That is, until I read the next book on my list, which is Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle ....

As many people know, Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. It sings to me - a day to give thanks, a holiday that hasn't been corrupted by American consumerism, and a day (and in all honesty, it turns into days for me) of my favorite past time, cooking.

But this post really isn't about Thanksgiving. It's about sour cherries. Or rather, sour cherries is the reason I'm blogging about Thanksgiving in early July.

My first and regular contribution to the Thanksgiving meal started when I was young -- maybe 7 or 8 years old. I was in charge of the cherry pie, which I truly enjoyed constructing because of lattice work. While using canned pie filling (gasp), my mother did teach me a valuable skill having me make my own pastry crust. A skill I pride myself on these days (though I have yet to master Mari's whole wheat crust). As I evolved as a cook (coinciding with a competitive cooking streak between my father and I) and Thanksgiving became hugely gourmet at the Nelson household, the cherry pie went away. It was, afterall, made from a can and you know how I feel about overly starched syrupy fruit.


However, if Mari could obsess about rhubard, I am now obsessing about sour cherries -- and more importantly, access to sour cherries. They should be in season right now (in DC I would be making my blue berry sour cherry jam) and perfect for a real cherry pie, enhanced only by a touch of cinnamon. The cherries can of course be preserved, and stored for Thanksgiving, and I am a little more than excited to reintroduce the cherry pie.

But while cherries may be in season, they probably aren't ever going to make it Maine, and certainly not to our farmer's market. Quick aside on the farmer's market, I've been initially put off from our farmer's market because its lettuce lettuce and more lettuce. I complained about this to someone who said -- "its Maine; lettuce is the only thing in season until August." All the same, I don't think we grow cherries (rhubarb, peaches, pears, and apples.. but no cherries) and anticipating a dearth of my much needed fruit, my obsession is growing.

So.. question for this gang... anyone ever ordered fresh fruit directly from a distributor or whole saler and if so, could you provide me with some direction? If it turns out OK, I will in turn supply you with home made cherry pie filling.

Blogging by proxy: Mangue-Passion Framboise

So most of you on this blog don't know my friend Motome, who is going on to the advanced Cordon Bleu pastry course. If she weren't spending all her waking time attending classes, working full time, and being a parent, she would be blogging on this blog. So here's a post by proxy of a beaauuutiful cake.

"Attended the first lecture of the advanced CB course yesterday. Much of the first part is chocolates - culminating in the making of a fancy box out of chocolate for the chocolates and chocolate figurines.

Also candy-making, more fancy cakes, and finally, a wedding cake.　The final exam this time is creating one's own recipe. All this will be hard work, but I think I feel pretty excited about it.

Just found a photo of one of the things I made last term that's pretty - called mangue-passion framboise. The stripey sponge cake is a lot of fun."

Cooking what you have ...

A neighbor of mine just recommended I look at this cookbook by a friend of his. I love the idea of riffing off of 5 spices--it really speaks to the way I cook, which is ingredient oriented. I like to go to the farmers market, pick up the things that look particularly good, and during the week I look at the refrigerator and my larder and figure out the menu for that evening. While I will occasionally put together a menu and go shopping for it, it has to be a pretty special occasion for me to do that.

Let me know if any of you test this out, or have a chance to browse at the bookstore. If it shows up at my favorite bookstore Candida's, I will pick it up.