Snow Day Ployes

Snow day! Do we ever outgrow the delight of having an unexpected day home in the middle of the week? Megan and I celebrated this morning by whipping up a batch of ployes—French Acadian buckwheat pancakes. I used batter mix from Bouchard Family Farms that Lisa had picked up for me at the Cultural Survival Bazaar. The Bouchard farm is located in the Upper Saint John River Valley on the Maine-New Brunswick border and has been milling the light buckwheat flour for generations.

About the size of silver dollar, ployes are traditionally griddle cooked on one side only—no flipping. The silver-skinned or common buckwheat grown on the Bouchard farm gives the ployes their unique greenish yellow color. Up until the 1950s, farming families in the river valley would prepare and eat ployes as a flat bread, buttered and rolled with every meal. Today we drizzled them with Massachusetts maple syrup and swished them down with coffee made in the French press.

Sap Happy

Maple sugaring time is fast approaching and I can hardly wait. I came across this article in the nytimes last spring and it’s been on my mind since: Sap Happy.

Does anyone have a recipe to share for tarte au sucre, maple-syrup pie?

Saratoga Weekend – Part I

Halloween weekend was spent visiting the one and only Rita C. in Saratoga Springs, NY. Although for the past two years she has made her home in Dublin, Ireland she had chosen to spend this past autumn in upstate New York. She applied for an received a prestigious folkloric fellowship through the state and was assigned to the public library in this quaint town. And since her Irish tourist visa was about to expire it seemed like a good time for an extended stay in the US.

From Boston’s South Station I hopped aboard the almost ever reliable Peter Pan/Greyhound charter bus to Albany. Dear Rita picked me up at the bus depot in the enormous Buick sedan she had been borrowing for the past few months. Neither of us are known for our driving nor navigational skills but we eventually managed to get ourselves to the cozy bistro that Rita had picked out for dinner (one minute prior to closing time). Chez Mike is an unremarkable name for remarkable restaurant in a location that is either unremarkable or remarkable depending on your sense of irony. Tucked among the chain stores and a supermarket at a nondescript shopping plaza, at first glance it appears to be nothing more than the front for a suburban “family resturante” where one might go to devour a huge plate of overcooked spaghetti drenched in watery tomato sauce. The interior decor did little to dispel this interpretation, but by our first bite of fresh baked baguette and whipped olive butter, we had been set straight.

For our first course we chose Little Neck clams steamed to order with chorizo sausage. The accompanying sherry-based broth with garlic and herbs was superb and more memorable than any New England version I can recall. My main dish was equally phenomanal– beef short ribs braised till tender in veal stock, stout and honey. On the side, mashed yukon gold potato, fall vegetable hash, and horseradish gremolata. Wow, Chef Mike!

Mike’s wife, Michele Cohen, is responsible for the desserts. Our layered carrot cheesecake was a delightful new concept to me and I’m certain that it must now be infamous in the greater Albany area. Imagine three thick layers of cheesecake flavored with slightly spicy, sweet shredded carrots, crushed pineapple, and chopped nuts. On top of that, our competent and kind server brought us tiny maple cut out cookies with our bill. It was a sweet ending to a lovely first night in town.

Slow in Coming: Tessah’s Adventures to Slow Food Nation

Padrone Peppers at Allstar Organics Farm

In keeping with the sloooow theme, I am FINALLY getting around to sharing some of the highlights of my fantastic experience in San Francisco at the Inaugural Slow Food Nation conference over Labor Day weekend.  All in the name of research, people!  God, I love the independent track (thanks to Nat’s inspirational insights!) that I’ve taken with grad school…studying food systems and social movements around food, essentially, within the confines of the International Development track of our Intercultural Relations Program at Lesley University, for those who don’t know (or need clarification–I don’t blame you…).  I have my moments of what I refer to as mini existential crises around it all, but that’s the nature of being a full-time student of 33 who’s passions are food, culture and social justice and who frequently wonders how all of this will equate into an actual paying job once the Master’s is in hand, but that is really another matter altogether…

In the MEANTIME, let me share some of the highlights of this amazingly delicious, eye-opening and phenomenally organized series of events which focused on creating an inclusive food movement!  I had the great fortune of having my dear cousin Evelyn accompany me on this trip, and we basically went from one glorious meal to tasting, to slow journey, to glorious meal to glorious meal from the moment we stepped off of the plane on Friday morning until we got on again Monday night.  I have had many memorable–and even ecstatic–food experiences in my life, but I have to say that the overall experience at Slow Food so completely blew all of these out of the water that I find it difficult to really put it into words.  Food so fresh, so expertly handled and crafted and presented, and all in a convivial, communal setting at each “Slow Dinner,” in keeping with the Slow Food Movement’s ethos, that tears of joy and pleasure welled in nearly everyone’s eyes, including my own, around the tables at which we sat.  When I returned to Cambridge and went to Whole Foods a couple of days later to pick up a few things, I actually found myself wandering aimlessly around feeling like I was too out of touch with the food. It was disconcerting, to say the least, that I felt that Whole Foods wasn’t fresh enough, good enough, or local enough, but this gradually subsided….a good lesson–food for thought, I might just say–though, and one that has gotten me to the Farmer’s Market more consistently in lieu of my long-gone garden plot and CSA membership from my previous life in New Mexico (yay, Nat!).

We sat at meals next to the ranchers and farmers that provided our meat and produce, and whose olive oil ranches, dairies and farms we had visited during the day.  I took a Slow Journey on Saturday to Marin County, across the Golden Gate Bridge to the north of San Francisco, led my Marin Organic and Marin Agricultural Land Trust to meet these folks and to explore their fields, farms and groves (and to also taste the fruits of their labor, of course) and to understand the process of reclaiming and securing agricultural lands near a major metropolitan area to create a truly local and sustainable food system. 

Wondering what I had for dinner?  Here’s a little sampling from the Marketbar from our second night, which benefited the California Food & Justice Coalition:

• Fried Padrone Peppers with sea salt (check out my pic of the peppers at Allstar Organics Farm that were picked that day for the festivities)
• Prosciutto & Melon with olive oil
• Roasted Beet, Blue Cheese & Arugula Salad with candied Walnuts
• Brentwood Corn Soup with cilantro (this was all pureed and DIVINE)
• Griddled Chicken Paillard with eggplant caponata
• Grilled Wild Sturgeon with peperonata & caper aioli (essentially the main reason I chose this dinner location–I am a fiend for sturgeon, and yes, it was totally worth it.)
• Swiss Chard Ravioli with heirloom tomato sauce
• Yellow Romano Beans
• Yukon Gold Potatoes
• Glazed Carrots
• And for dessert: Nectarine Galette with rose petal ice cream

These were not options, these were ALL of the offerings, served family-style to our long communal tables and yes, I ate all of it.  I had a lovely glass of a local Sauvignon Blanc, Brander, Santa Ynez that just pulled the entire meal together. 

Oh, and the Taste Pavilions?  We went for 4 ecstatic hours of ice cream flights (chocolate malted goat milk ice cream, anyone?), chutneys, sustainable wine, coffee, chocolate, charcuterie, pickles in every shape, flavor and brine…..native foods (Picuris Pueblo from New Mexico was representing with the red chile sauce and posole–yay!!) and yes, a Hall of Bread.  We sampled in moderation, we tactically alternated sweet with savory, and we still rolled ourselves out of there.  And it was 150% worth it.  In beautifully kind San Francisco fashion, we strolled up the hill from the Fort Mason complex where the pavilions were held to the Great Meadow where the Slow Food Rocks stage was set up and lazed in the grass under a perfect 72 degree sun listening to none other than Phil Lesh.  It was beyond surreal at that point.  My notion of perfection doesn’t get much better than that, people.  All I can say is: 11 more months until the next Slow Food Nation, and Natalie is coming with!

More photos from Slow Food Nation 2008

Garden Harvest Celebration

It has been a glorious summer for the garden. Buckets of multicolor tomatoes including lumpy heirlooms and sugar sweet ones shaped liked plums and cherries. Monstrous zucchini, glossy eggplants, tangles of nasturtium, and bouquets of collards, lettuces, and Russian kale. The pepper maggot attack in early August was an unexpected crisis, but once averted, we had two full months of daily bounty and then some.

Alumnuts and his baby

The community areas gave us pints of red and gold raspberries, tart blackberries, sour cherries, and crisp apples. I didn’t get a chance to capture any fresh figs yet but I may still have another week or so to give it a try.

Last week the gardeners celebrated the end of the season with a harvest celebration. Heyy, an Irish and bluegrass trio (fiddle, guitar, bouran) played first followed by a Balkan trio (accordion, fiddle, bass). I toted Moonbrine Pickles to the potluck and more ambitious folks contributed garden inspired pesto lasagna, stuffed cabbage, black sesame slaw and cinnamon applesauce cake.

Tessah preparing a plate

Fruits of our labor

As part of as assignment for Summer Community Arts Symposium I researched the significant history of the garden and its place role as a venue for public art. It was terrific to see today’s gardeners carrying on the community spirit that gave the garden its start.

My ambitions for next summer are to grow more varieties of tomatoes, rainbow chard (as I had been envying my neighbors’ plot all summer), more colors of zinnia, and more eggplant. Moussaka, anyone?

New Mexico Chile: Red or Green? Or: Why My Life is More Complete

So, yes, it is the beginning of the chile season in New Mexico and I was happily able to pack my suitcase with both the red and green versions on my recent visit this month for consumption back here in Boston.  Late summer kicks the green chile roasting season off, and most supermarket and farmer’s market parking lots have their gas barrel roasters in full swing, filling the air with an intoxicating aroma.  Like most New Mexicans, I would grab my 30 pound bag of fresh green chile to be roasted to last me through the winter.  There is much that can be-and has been-written on the subject, and many ardent chile enthusiasts in my adopted home of New Mexico who have serious opinions on the matter.  So, rather than offend any one of them, or short-sheet my explanation of this very important topic,  check out the detailed description for yourself.  Admittedly, it’s kind of a hokey site, design-wise, but it’s got some serious cred regarding facts, history and solid traditional recipes.

I don’t know what my life would be like without chile.  At one point during my first six years living in New Mexico as a native New England girl, I actually couldn’t believe that I had lived so long without it, or without tortillas, for that matter.  I mean, a world without tortillas?  Are you kidding me?  It’s all rather addictive, and I’m cool with that.

The green chile sauce I made for our yummy dinner on Sunday at Natalie’s house consisted of fresh roasted green chile (the Anaheim variety), seeded, peeled and chopped, a butter-based rue, chicken stock, garlic and sea salt.  Very easy, very delicious.  We dipped blue corn tortilla chips for a simple appetizer, but it is more commonly used on eggs of any style for breakfast or on rolled or stacked enchiladas.  Red chile, on the other hand, is the entire chile pod dried and ground into a powder which is then reconstituted with water or broth ( I just use water), with the same butter rue base, garlic, salt and the addition of Mexican oregano.  I brought some of this over for dinner, too, and we added it to the cavatelli with our pesto and roastie conconction.  Delish!  We are not afraid to experiment on the outer edges of fusion cooking, are we?

Sunday Supper – Cavatelli with Roasties, Pesto, & Tessah’s Red Chile Sauce

Tess just returned from a week long visit to her much-loved New Mexican towns, Albuquerque and Santa Fe. Apparently ’tis green chile season in NM and lucky for us she brought back a package of freshly roasted chiles safely tucked in her suitcase.

Tess, can you please explain a bit about the NM chile roasting scene and your recipe for that special smokey sauce?

Cake Wrecks

Thank you, Mcmanistan, for this.

Celebrity Pickler in Town This Weekend

Slow Food Boston is bringing Rick Field of Rick’s Picks to Haley House this Friday as a guest teacher for a three-hour combination lecture and hands-on workshop on pickling techniques using locally grown veggies.

I first became acquainted with Rick’s Picks when my good pal Rita sent me four jars for my birthday: Slices of Life (sliced dill pickles), GT 100s (curried green tomato pickles), Smokra (picked okra with smoked paprika), and Phat Beets (pickled beets). Leave it to Rita to know that a gift of condiments is a sure fire way to make my day.

Unfortunately the Haley House event is already sold out, but there is a waiting list. I’m also looking forward to the remaining two workshops in this series—apparently sessions focusing on fermenting/dehydrating foods and tomato sauce preparation are still to come!

Roxbury Sour Cherry Sorbet

In early July, Earthworks‘ City Fruit program announced they were looking for volunteers to help pick and pit sour cherries from Boston’s urban orchards. One of the picking sites was our own Southwest Corridor Community Garden which is host to two glorious cherry trees. Unfortunately I couldn’t help with the hard work, but I did get to reap the benefits– a pint of Roxbury Sour Cherry sorbet bought from the JP Licks on Centre Street. The sorbet is a beautiful ruby color with bits of cherry pulp and a tangy sweet and sour punch. I am told that this is a limited edition batch so be sure to seek out a sample before it’s too late.