Snow day soup and sandwich

I'll admit that I haven't been terribly inspired in the kitchen lately. I blame this mostly on the weather. Winter is never my favorite season, but this year has been particularly brutal with all of the snow, and as we speak another slushy foot is burying Philadelphia. Justin and I have spent much of 2010 inside, but instead of holing up in the kitchen with new recipes I'd rather hibernate, stopping only to eat something hot and comforting and generally loaded with carbs.

Today is no exception. After some work and a work out this morning, all I could think about for lunch was my favorite snow day snack growing up; grilled cheese with tomato soup. When the craving hit me, my first thought was that I didn't have any tomato soup. But wait a minute... I did have a can of tomatoes, garlic, onion and spices. That's enough for a simple tomato soup, right? About thirty minutes later I was dunking my grilled cheese into homemade tomato soup.

{ The dynamic duo. On the sammy I added sauteed spinach for some daily green and Dijon mustard for a little kick }

And that folks, is what I call a good snow day.

na na na naan

On the heels of Wednesday's rather intense conversation, I thought we could all use a light-hearted break before the weekend. And I'll tell you one thing, I find it far easier to be light-hearted when there is a stack of warm flat-bread at home. Before two weeks ago I had never, I repeat never, made any sort of flatbread. But recently I've been possessed by the stuff, experimenting with pizza dough, tortillas, and a particular favorite that I came to talk to you about today; naan.

{ naan rising }

While I'm admittedly no expert on Indian cuisine, I do love the stuff. Good Indian food is so packed with flavor that after a meal of it I find it almost impossible to leave the table unsatisfied. And the naan... Oh, the naan. This chewy flatbread served straight from the oven and drizzled with ghee is perfect on its own or as a vehicle for mopping up remaining sauce from a dish... That is if you were silly enough to leave any sauce on the dish in the first place. This end-of-meal ritual is an important one for me; my grandmother didn't name me the "Clean Plate Queen" for nothing.

Recently we've added a couple of fairly simple Indian dishes to our rotation, one of the favorites being Chana Masala. I can't eat it without wanting naan, and until recently I was picking up a store bought version which was, well, meh. We stuck with it because I was doubtful that we could do better at home without the hellishly hot clay oven the flatbread is traditionally baked in. But when the pizza stone came into our lives, I changed my mind. So last week I did some research and came up with a recipe for at-home naan baking. The process was painless; just mix, knead, rise, roll and slap, and the results really were delicious.

{ please enjoy naan responsibly }

True, our maiden effort did not compete with naan from our favorite Indian restaurants, and probably won't. But what I'm discovering is that even rookie efforts at making some of my former grocery staples usually taste better than their store bought counterparts... This coming from a still-struggling cook.

Also true is that with my, ahem, flexible schedule, I'm able to work this kind of baking project into my day in a way that I couldn't when I was away from the apartment for at least ten hours every day. Still, if making naan at home is something that you're interested in, it is definitely easy enough to do when you have even a bit of extra time. It stays good for a day or so, though it's best fresh so in the future I think I'll make a larger recipe and freeze at least half of it for later. Which would be even better because then I could just take it out of the freezer, let it defrost and pop it in the oven.

I found the recipe in the Chicago Tribune via Serious Eats, apparently this one stood up to the competition. The only change I made was to substitute the non-fat Greek Yogurt I had in the fridge for plain yogurt. If it had a negative impact we didn't know it, but next time I will probably try plain just to see if it makes a difference.

The rise of naan: How to bake the Indian flatbread at home - Chicago Tribune Archives

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Pizza, pizza

Success! We have been making pizza at home for years, but a thin crispy crust had always eluded us... Until last night. With the help of our new pizza stone we did it; delicious chewy crust, with a definite outer crunch.

However, there are still kinks to work out on our quest for at-home pizza perfection. Using a pre-heated stone means assembling the dough, sauce and cheese trifecta on a separate surface before transferring the pie to the hot stone and putting it in the oven. Trust me, this sounds easier than it actually is for a first-timer. Ideally you would make the pizza on a peel, the long-handled wooden spatula that pizza shops use to easily slide pies in and out of the oven. Pies practically dance off those things... Not so with the peel-substitute we used. Despite a heavy coat of flour and cornmeal, our stubborn pie had no interest in gliding off our baking sheet onto the stone. Creative problem-solvers that we are, we had no choice but to pick our 'za up hope for the best. The resulting pizza brought to mind Dalí's clocks, though I must say that it was no less delicious and crisp.

{ If the above pizza appears to be rather ugly, that's only because it was }

The verdict? While there is room for improvement on our prep-to-oven transfer, we are decidedly in love with our pizza stone.

(wo)man with a plan

Thankfully, my week of detox is over. I may or may not have celebrated with a half-pound of fresh mozzarella this weekend, but that's neither here nor there... We'll worry about that when it comes time for detox 2011.

In the meantime I'm refocusing on weekly meal plans in an effort to get back on track with cooking and eating at home. And after several months of commuting craziness, I'm excited to be back in the kitchen on a more regular basis. Both my wallet and I feel happier and healthier eating more home-cooked meals, and I've been especially inspired recently by a couple of culinary Christmas gifts: two beautiful new cookbooks and a pizza stone.

Needless to say, there was no shortage of ideas when it came time to make our meal plan for this week, though there were some hurdles. A jam-packed lineup of Justin's work and classes means that we won't be eating week-night dinners together through the spring. This also means that the leftovers of whatever I eat on a given night will become Justin's dinner the next, so the meal needs to hold up. There are loop-holes of course; if I make something that won't last as leftovers or that Justin doesn't like, I can always make something else for him. If that sounds like a pain, that's because it is... So we avoid that option when possible. There is also the option to make dinner for both of us in the morning. But, to borrow a line from my cousin, we'll file that under "things that are not going to happen".

The bottom line is that creating our weekly meal plan feels sort of like a game of Tetris; everything has to fit just right. When I'm in a good mood it's a fun challenge. When I'm not, we eat peanut butter and jelly until inspiration strikes. Luckily, this was a good week and we came up with this dinner lineup:

Monday
Marinated tofu and shiitake mushroom stir-fry with roasted broccoli
*also make granola for breakfasts

Tuesday
Make Fennel Potato Leek soup (one of Justin's favorites) before dinner date with a friend (yay!)

Wednesday
Griggstown Farm Chicken Apple Sausages + quinoa with roasted onion, kale and sweet potatoes

Thursday
Whole wheat pasta with pesto (from cubes I froze earlier in the season) + arugula salad

Friday
Chana Masala + homemade naan (I love naan and I'm excited to try making it at home!)

Saturday
Inaugural homemade pizza on our new stone!

Sunday
Market TBD

It's certainly not a groundbreaking collection of menus, but it's nice to have a week of healthy meals that we both like to look forward to. When we do our food shopping on Sunday we'll start the game all over again, and with a little luck we'll have another PB&J-free week... Though that certainly wouldn't be the worst fate.

In like a lion.

Winter is here. The seasonal transition feels especially monumental this year, bringing with it a new decade; one that will hopefully be less fraught than the last. There are reasons to be optimistic on this front, particularly in the world of food politics. I'm looking forward to talking about some of those reasons here as the year unfolds.

At Fresh, the arrival of the new year means a renewed energy to report on food issues, follow the progress of sustainable food activism and, of course, to share stories about what we're putting on the table. I think 2010 is going to be an exciting year for this blog and I hope that you'll all stay tuned. As you may have noticed, winter also means a new look for Fresh; my favorite of our seasonal layouts. It's the fourth in our series, but this art was actually the original inspiration for the other seasons. If the orange hues seem more fitting for summer than winter I can say that, as someone who loathes cold weather, juicy citrus is one of the best things about this season. Not to mention that the bright colors are a pick-me-up that many of us can use this time of year.

{ Photo courtesy of the New York Times }

For me personally, this winter also means a transition as I finish my fall internship in New York with Slow Food USA and look forward to new challenges and opportunities for 2010. In light of this change, I decided to push something of a personal reset button this week. After months of seriously celebrating New York food and the holidays, I'm detoxing for a few days. Though I don't subscribe to any diet plan that entails surviving on spicy lemonade, I am cutting out dairy, gluten, sugar, alcohol and caffeine. You may be wondering how I will motivate myself to get out of bed in the morning without bread, chocolate and cheese to lure me and I won't lie; it isn't easy. But I'm getting through it by enjoying (or trying to enjoy) lots of raw whole foods, like the Lancaster Farm Fresh Lacinato Kale the the grocery near me has been carrying recently, along with buckets of carrot and ginger dressing (recipe below).

That said, the rest of the week will be quiet here but we'll be back with new posts on Monday. Thanks for your patience all, we hope to see you then.

--

Carrot Ginger Dressing
Adapted from Gourmet

1 large carrot, peeled and chopped
1 medium to small shallot, peeled and chopped
2 tablespoons ginger, peeled and chopped
2 tablespoons rice vinegar
1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil
1/4 cup grapeseed oil
2 tablespoons water

Combine the carrot, shallot and ginger in a food processor until finely chopped and well combined. Add the rice vinegar and sesame oil and combine. While the food processor is going, drizzle the grapeseed oil and water in a steady stream until well blended. Serve on top of salad, fish, chicken or with raw sliced veggies.

Blooper reel: A tale of two cheesecakes

The biggest food holiday of the year just wouldn't be that without a least one culinary blooper. In our kitchen the turkey is still to be roasted and the gravy to be made, but my mom and I discovered our mishap last night around midnight. Weeks ago, we had decided to have pumpkin cheesecake for dessert this Thanksgiving. Neither of us had made a cheesecake before, but her good friend had a recipe and we felt up to the task.

We decided that I would take the helm on the project, but at my parents' house since my mom's kitchen is better equipped. But when travel plans changed at the last minute, signals got crossed about who was responsible for the cheesecake. Maybe you see where this is going... Justin and I arrived at my parents house last night, bearing sweet potato casserole, veggies for roasting and a vat of pumpkin pie cheesecake filling. My plan was to run inside, whip up a crust, pour the filling in and take a nap before pulling the finished dessert out of the oven and stashing it in the fridge overnight. Instead, as I carried the liquid cream cheese mixture inside my mom spotted it and said, "Oh, wait. Did you make a cheesecake? I thought I was making the cheesecake." Sure enough, a finished pumpkin-spice cheesecake sat chilling in the fridge. The second is ready to pull from the oven as we speak.

{ Roast turkey with black-truffle butter and white-wine Gravy, courtesy of Gourmet.com }

There are five* of us having Thanksgiving dinner this year at the Boggs' homestead, but we are determined that no cheesecake shall go untouched. That said, if you're in the mood for some dessert leftovers today, feel free to stop by our house.

*We are short one Boggs family member today; my youngest sister is down south swabbing the decks, slushing the mast and whatever else it is you do when you work on a sailboat. It's an understatement to say that she is sorely missed. Wish you were here P.B.

One is silver and the other gold

Lately I've been torn. When it comes to Thanksgiving, there are certain dishes that I love for their steadfastness. No matter the circumstances, these dishes are there, comforting me, year after year: my mom's celery-scented dressing, sweet potato casserole topped with toasted marshmallows, cranberry "sauce" straight from the can and, my husband's favorite, pineapple bake. Normally, I wouldn't look twice at these items on a menu, neither would I crave them unless it was the fourth Thursday in November. But when it comes to the feast to end all feasts, it wouldn't seem like a holiday without them.

On the other hand, my palette has evolved over the years and I'm often tempted by the new, glittery Thanksgiving recipes on the pages of my favorite food magazines or blogs: cranberry relish with orange and ginger, cornbread stuffing with fennel and bell peppers or sweet potatoes with coconut milk and fiery Thai spice paste. I spend weeks plowing through these twists on the traditional sides, dreaming up an ideal meal.

{ Cranberry Quince Sauce Courtesy of Epicurious.com }

But I can't have it all. Our recent Thanksgiving celebrations have been limited to immediate family, so making a variety of sides that would include both the traditional and the modern versions of my favorite dishes would invariably result in eating turkey-day leftovers until Easter. Now normally, I'm not one to knock a leftover, I often think they're the best part of any meal, but I have to draw a line somewhere, and that line generally falls somewhere around the time I put up my Christmas tree.

So friends, I'm stuck. Stay with my comfort foods and avoid the angry mob who might come after me if I replaced our sweet potato casserole with a spicy cousin, or blaze a bold new trail of Thanksgiving eating? What do you do to balance the old and the new?

A nice glass of wine with a pancake.

Last week I had trouble sleeping. I tried relaxing with tea and a book, but eventually the only thing that lulled me to sleep was watching a marathon streak of 'Scrubs' episodes. After powering through the entire season seven in a just few very late nights, one episode stands out in my memory. It's Turk and Carla's anniversary, and Turk is obsessed with having breakfast for dinner, brinner, to celebrate. The storyline reminded me of a too-long-dormant love for eating pancakes and eggs after dark. Making a good brinner at home, especially when it's cold and rainy outside, is one of the most comforting activities I know.


So when we were elbow deep in laundry late yesterday afternoon and Justin suggested an early brinner, I was immediately game. Not long after, I had slices of french toast on the stove while Justin scrambled eggs and fried bacon. We ate on the floor and watched the Eagles beat the Bears.

Turk's defense of breakfast for dinner sums it up for me, "I just don't see what's wrong with having a nice glass of wine with a pancake." Though my own brinner involved a nice glass of orange juice to help ward off an oncoming cold, I can definitely relate to the sentiment... It's kind of hard to beat brinner.


* In honor of sweet potatoes and turkeys everywhere, there will be new posts on Fresh every day this week.

Welcome, fall.

We're running just a few days behind on welcoming autumn with new seasonal artwork, but welcome nonetheless. Maybe it's just me, but I'm having a hard time keeping up with the seasons this year; they seem to be speeding by. That said, I will miss summer's abundance of berries, tomatoes, cukes and basil, though fall is definitely my favorite season for food. I am a sucker for all things roasted, and would be content eating sweet potatoes, carrots, parsnips and brussels sprouts with brown rice every day until spring arrives. The cool weather also inspires me to turn on my oven more often, and so I tend to be more creative in the kitchen once fall kicks in.


This fall, because our crazy schedule seldom allows for dinner at home together, Justin and I have been making up for lost time with celebratory Sunday night dinners. Last night was celeriac root soup, poached eggs over sauteed greens and, wait for it, roasted sweet potatoes with rice. Our ancient plumbing failed us halfway through the prep when the kitchen sink clogged, and nearly derailed our dinner plans. There was talk of calling in a pizza but my sweet (potato) tooth prevailed, and I returned to the kitchen despite the dirty, dish-stocked swimming pool in our sink. By the time we were scraping up the last bites of baked apples, vanilla frozen yogurt and caramel sauce that was our dessert, I had almost forgotten the disaster in the kitchen... Almost. A credit to the comfort of fall feasts.

{ View from a speeding car in Shenandoah National Park }

Tonight I'll be picking up a CSA share of sweet potatoes, broccoli rabe, arugula and apples, and then returning home to figure out how to eat it all in the busy week ahead. I guess there is always next Sunday...

Note to self.

The next time that I have the brilliant idea to bake a decadent and nearly flourless chocolate cake on a random Sunday afternoon, and "put all but two slices of it in the freezer to savor over time," I should probably just get real.


I know that you can't see much in the photo, but what you can see is that the cake clearly did not make it to the freezer. And, to be honest, I may have had another teensy sliver while uploading the photo. Ouch.

To do this fall: develop a single serving version of this recipe...

An update and an apple tart.

Well hello. I've been away over the last week, and spotty internet access has thwarted plans for a couple of new Fresh posts. Mostly, I've been wanting to share an update about my whereabouts, and the exciting work that I'm going to be doing this fall.

The where is New York... Brooklyn to be exact. I've spent most of the last two weeks there, or on a bus between there and Phila. The what is an internship with Slow Food USA. While the 'internship' part may not sound ideal (as many of you know, I was on the hunt for a full time job) I have wanted to work for Slow Food USA (SFUSA) for so long that in some ways I feel like I've landed my dream job. I mean this. Last week, after going over a list of projects that I would be working on I had to stop myself from jumping up and down and clapping in my chair (not only would it have been embarrassing; logistically it just wouldn't have worked).

If you're not already familiar with SFUSA, I would definitely recommend a trip over to their website to get an idea of the scope of their work. If that sounds like a hassle, here is a quick overview: Slow Food is a food advocacy organization, whose international branch was founded in Italy in the late 80's. As the name hints, it was in part a response to a global increase in the presence of fast food, the idea being to recognize the importance of our food cultures and traditions, while acknowledging the connection between plate and planet. Because Slow Food is a member-based organization, chapters started forming all over the US until 2000, when Slow Food USA officially came into being. Now, the USA focus is grassroots advocacy for food that is good for us, good for the people who grow it and good for the planet.

The SFUSA mission takes its shape in various projects, campaigns and events, a great example being the Time for Lunch campaign that I mentioned the week before last. The campaign has been a very successful thus far, and I feel lucky to be there during this exciting and action-packed period of time. All of that to say, I'm looking at this internship like you might look at going back to school, as a learning opportunity. Thanks for bearing with me as I adjust to the new schedule, I'm looking forward to sharing the experience here once I get used to blogging from the Bolt bus.

And on an unrelated note, I baked my first tart yesterday. Early this weekend the weather seemed to say fall, and an apple tart seemed like the perfect Sunday dessert. Unfortunately, the temperature here cranked up near 80 yesterday, but that hardly damaged our enjoyment of baked apples on a sweet vanilla crust last night (a scoop of ice cream off-set the heat). I would consider this recipe a starter tart, perfect for those of you who, like me, aren't enthused by the idea of making a traditional tart crust. This version could not be easier, and I don't even own a food processor.

Seattle on my mind.

It's a fairly quiet day in my neighborhood, but when I woke up this morning I couldn't help thinking about what I imagine is a considerably less quiet day in a neighborhood across the continent. Today at 5pm West Coast time, a favorite food writer of mine, Molly Wizenberg, and her husband, Brandon Pettit, are officially opening the doors to their restaurant, Delancey.

{ Screen shot of Delancey website }

The restaurant will be a pizza place, an apparent nod to Brandon's deep love for New York style pies. But according to Molly's blog, Orangette, the menu will be a mix of both his and her cooking styles. I'm guessing this will mean plenty of Molly's fresh salads and beautifully rustic desserts to complement Brandon's pizzas and pickles.

Now I don't want to be biased, but Molly, with Brandon at her side, has been guiding and inspiring my cooking since the moment I discovered her blog over two years ago. The woman has yet to lead me astray on a single recipe. So it's hard to imagine the restaurant NOT being fantastic... And the kind of comfortable place where you want to spend time with friends. All of that said, I wish there was some way to be in Ballard around 5pm this evening. For any of you in the Seattle area, I'm sure you have already made plans for pizza at Delancey at the first opportunity.

But though I can't eat there tonight, I can bring a couple of Delancey recipes to my own table. Since stumbling across this post a couple of summer's ago, I have made very few special meals that didn't include one of Molly's recipes. Tonight is no exception. We're celebrating a family birthday, and on the menu will be her caramelized cauliflower with salsa verde (though I'm going to try it with this version, as opposed to the one in her book) and, in an effort to use up the bounty of slicing and cherry tomatoes that we got in our CSA share this week, a tomato corn salad with shallot dressing that was on an earlier soft opening menu at Delancey.


Molly's writing has played a huge role in building my confidence in the kitchen, and I owe both her and Brandon a huge thank you for opening up so many new culinary doors for me. Wishing them the best as they open their own new doors tonight...

Aww, honey... You baked.

I consider myself insanely lucky for my family and friends. Really. You all should meet them sometime. They're good people. Among them, mi amiga Grace.

Grace, or GEG as I call her, is many things. An amazing friend for one. I feel like I've known her forever, when in reality it has been less than a decade since we lived down the hall from each other in the Syracuse dorms. She's laid back and smart as a whip with a fantastically dry sense of humor. And she's always up for anything. Grace would be just as likely to accept your invitation for a casual walk around the neighborhood as she would go sky-diving with you... In Brazil... Tomorrow.

{ Classic GEG & Cat, captured by another wonderful friend and foodie, Miz Kate Duke }

Grace also happens to be a fantastic home cook and baker; the kind that can take the solitary apple, wilted lettuce and half-dozen eggs from your barren college fridge and turn them into something that tastes good. A painting major in school, I always felt like Grace's skill in the kitchen came from her creative side. The dishes she came up with in our skimpy Syracuse kitchenettes blew me away. While I was struggling with scrambled eggs, Grace would be whipping up Inari with edamame salad or a mean lentil soup. It may not sound like much, but we were 19 and most of our peers, myself often included, were subsisting off campus Burger King and Sbarro. At the time preparing edamame was as foreign to me as serving Lobster Thermidor would have been.

So it was with Grace that I began my own explorations into the world of food and cooking. While the campus around us was buried in snow, we occupied ourselves with soups, frittatas, breads, bruschettas and brownies smothered in unmentionable layers of peanut butter and toasted coconut. She affectionately nicknamed my cooking creations (the results of a Barefoot Contessa recipe for turkey loaf became Loafy) and quietly exchanged my chosen recipe ingredients when I made an error in judgement. Whole evenings were spent at Wegmans, sampling the olive bar and "browsing" the candy bins (I know they appreciated our patronage). When graduation arrived, I was distraught at being without my personal in-home chef. But, as it turns out, Grace didn't let me down.

{ Me and Grace, enjoying a little cake at graduation. Pretty typical. }

These days, though we're separated by an entire continent, Grace sends a beautiful package of her baked goods every year for my birthday. It's hard to explain how excited I get when I see her familiar handwriting on a package marked for me. Justin, who also became an addict of Grace's baking during our time at Syracuse, looks forward to the package as much as I do. Each year, the contents vary, and so I get to spend time guessing what she sent and then, inevitably, swooning over the treats. Over the years there have been hazelnut pralines, white chocolate pistachio cranberry cookies, mascarpone brownies and cashew butterscotch bars to name a few. But a consistent favorite in the King household are the WhiteChocolateGingerCoconut Bars (you have to say it fast, so not to waste time talking when you could be chewing on one). Lucky for all of us, Grace has agreed to share the recipe here... Hopefully it will be the first of many.

Thanks a mil GEG, you really know how to treat a lady.

{ WCCG Bars with a delightful cashew concoction and the beautiful birthday card by tall cow hand printed greetings. The card makes me think of this song, which I love }

Grace's Whitechocolategingercoconut Bars

1 c. flour
1 t. baking powder
2 t. ground ginger
1/4 t. salt
1/2 c. unsalted butter
1 c. brown sugar (i also like to use cane sugar, palm cane sugar, or raw brown sugar)
1 t. vanilla
1 egg
1 c. flaked coconut
3/4 c. candied ginger, minced
1 bag of high quality white chocolate chips

Heat oven to 350. Prepare 8x8" pan by lining with parchment paper or foil. Easy cleanup is key.

Combine first 4 ingredients in separate bowl.

In a medium saucepan, melt butter over low heat. Once melted, take off heat and add half of white chocolate chips to saucepan, not stirring, until mostly melted (about 1 minute). Add in sugar and vanilla. Stir until sugar is mostly dissolved and mix is cooled. Beat in egg. Stir in flour mix until just combined. Then add in coconut, candied ginger, and remaining half bag of white chocolate chips to dough. *Please be wary, dough is heavenly and highly addictive.

Pour dough into pan. Dough will be super thick, so you will probably have to pat and smooth to get flat and even. Bake 25-30 min. DO NOT OVER BAKE. I generally take them out at 24-25 minutes unless they are totally mushy in the middle. Then cool and try to maintain control. Cut into 1" blocks and enjoy!

Weekend update.

The past few days have been filled with great reading material, and I would like to start the week off at Fresh by sharing a few interesting links.

• Russ Parson's column for the LA Times on the often blurry meaning of the word organics. This latest was actually a follow-up from an earlier piece which he had begun with the statement, "I don't believe in organic."

{ Photo courtesy of the Los Angeles Times }

• Newsweek's recent article on urban farming. Philadelphia's own Greensgrow Farm made a well-deserved appearance.

• Fast Company's June 2009 issue profiled the top 100 creative people in business. Milwaukee urban farmer and former basketball player Will Allen made the cut.

• Michael Pollan's article in the New York Times Magazine about our increasing affection for watching people cook on television, while we're cooking less ourselves at home. Personally, I find this article more interesting than I do depressing. It's not that I doubt Pollan's research, his findings are hard to argue... We're definitely eating more processed food in lieu of the real thing. But at the same time that marketing numbers show that the number of people cooking at home is down, I watch the customers at busy farmer's markets stocking up on fresh veggies, cheeses, fruit and meats. I can only assume that they're taking these items home to, if not cook, than at least carefully prepare. And on my favorite food blogs, hundreds of comments discuss the results of the latest recipe. So while we may currently represent a minority, home cooks are holding strong. And I truly believe that, while we probably aren't headed for a return of catching and plucking our own chickens (thankfully), home cooking will make a comeback.

{ Photo Illustration by Erwin Olaf for and courtesy of The New York Times }

I would be interested to hear your thoughts about this last one. Do you all like cooking at home, or it is just one other thing to fit in? What do you all think, is home cooking really on its way out?

In a pickle.

You may have noticed an absence of Fresh posts in the last couple of weeks, and I do apologize for those of you who have been checking in. For one thing, I needed to devote more time than usual to an ongoing job search. Yes folks, I am one of the lucky ones to be making a career change during our season of economic discontent. The upshot of the search is that it is an excuse to go out and meet lots of talented, intelligent and driven people. I've been lucky to come across so many kind people in the process, all of whom have helped or advised me in some meaningful way. Almost every day, I learn something new and interesting about the communications industry or a particular organization or company. And I get to eat my lunch at home. Those are the perks. I probably don't have to tell you that there are a few detractors, like an excess amount of pajama wearing in front of the computer, though I imagine that for some that doesn't sound so bad.

But enough about that, the good news is that I've also been busy with lots of Fresh-related activities, though the research meant less time to write. Kind of a pickle, is it not? Not to worry, I'll be sharing what I've found over the next couple of weeks. But back to the subject of pickles...


In Pennsylvania, we've hit our bumper crop of squash and cukes. At a nearby farm*, until about a week ago when a nasty bacteria devoured the remaining cucumber plants, we couldn't eat these crops fast enough. For my part, I was dumping handfuls of shredded zucchini into chocolate chip cookies (which is a really good idea, though it wasn't mine), eating plenty of raw zucchini and cucumber salads and generally fretting about the still looming pile of cucumbers in my crisper drawer. I knew what had to be done, but to be honest, it scared the crap out of me.

What exactly was I so afraid of? In a word, preservation. Dehydrating. Pickling. CANNING. Sure, I've frozen large batches of pesto, pumpkin puree and tomato sauce, but when it comes to the more advanced preservation tactics, I chicken out. Maybe it's the multiple rounds of blanching for pickles or the exacting nature of perfecting the PH level for safe canning, but the idea has always intimidated me. But not this year my friends.

I decided to start small with refrigerator pickles. Using the basic outline from this recipe, I sliced up my cukes, prepared the brine and anxiously waited 24-hours to taste the transformation. The result was crisp, tart and tasty. Not the perfect pickle by any stretch, but they certainly perked up our sandwiches and were good enough to inspire me to take the next step.


Before the end of the summer, I'm determined to conquer this recipe for pickled red onions, and can some of the crushed heirloom tomatoes that Justin can't get enough of during the summer. Wish me luck, and I'll keep you posted.

*Skunk Hollow Community Farm is operated by Greener Partners, a sustainable farming organization that I've been volunteering and working with for the past year. I'm looking forward to telling you more about their mission later, but feel free to check out their site in the meantime.

Dust off the grill

A wise woman once said, "Deciphering html, even if it's beginner html for dummies, is no way to kick-off 4th of July weekend." I'll admit, I know this woman, and I trust her. That said, we're going to have to hold off on the Fresh surprise until first thing next week. Hopefully, you're already outside prepping your grills and soaking up the sun, and won't even think about computers, blogs or pesky html until Monday.

So have a safe and happy fourth all, here's hoping it's filled with good food! And if you're interested, here's a look at what's on our menu for the weekend...

• Lemony White Bean Hummus with garlic and tahini
• Forks Farm grilled chicken
• Bikini Zucchini Salad (a clever name for a delicious diet-worthy mix of raw zucchini and lemon dressing, with a sprinkle of toasted pine nuts, Parmesan and basil- from one of my new favorite blogs)
• Super Orzo Salad (made with whatever looks good at the farmer's market this afternoon... I can't get enough of this stuff!)
• Grilled sweet white corn
• Buttermilk biscuits (the recipe comes from a Southern cookbook that was passed to me from my grandmother, and marked up by my mom and all of my aunts. Needless to say, it's a family heirloom.)

And because I would never end a meal without something sweet...

• Black Raspberry-Blueberry Pound Cake
and
• Vegan Coconut, Chocolate Chip, Pecan cookies based on this recipe (okay, so this last one isn't exactly local, but I am a true believer that no holiday is complete without a bit of chocolate)

As always, we would love to hear about some of your must-have July 4th dishes (or drinks as the case may be). Fill us in next week!

Cherries!

Hello again! Hope you've all had a wonderful week, despite the rain that some of us can't seem to escape. The good news is that the weather is finally right in Pennsylvania for plump, sweet cherries.


Shockingly, this was never something I cared about until, well, yesterday. Before now, I just couldn't get excited about these early summer treats, but the specimens that showed up in my CSA share from Kauffman's Fruit Farm changed my mind. In fact, they were so delicious that I decided to put them in a pretty bowl and take a photo for you. Sadly, by the time I got out my camera, my fingertips were stained red and the majority of the cherries had mysteriously disappeared, with only a lonely half dozen or so remaining. Still, I think they look quite lovely.


Despite my recent love-affair with these sweet fruits, I don't think I could be convinced to eat them any other way then straight off the stem. I'm sure some of you would beg to differ... How you would rather have them?

. . .

As an aside, we've got a few fun things in the works for Fresh, so check back at the end of this week and early next for a summer surprise and a very good story for the coffee lovers among us!

Kitchen notes + See you in a week!

In about an hour, my hubby, JK, and I are unplugging from the world and heading up to his family's cabin to enjoy an entire week of swimming, hiking, relaxing and soaking up the sun (if the weather holds out). In fact, as I type JK is behind me haphazardly tossing most of his clothes into a duffel bag. The fact that he can do that in about five minutes, while I have to spend two days carefully planning everything I will need, is another story entirely.

Before I go, I wanted to leave you all with a fun and functional recent addition to our kitchen. Lately, I've found that by sitting down and making a meal plan each week, we eat healthier meals and have a happier wallet. The list doesn't have to be hard and fast, just an outline that helps me incorporate all the goods from our CSA share and figure out what else to shop for. Until this week, I scribbled the list into a little blue notebook and carried it to the grocery store with me. But now....

{ our new chalkboard, in all of its glory. jk said it made him feel like he was in a restaurant }

Yes folks, after months of searching, we have acquired a vintage chalkboard for our kitchen. Granted, it's less portable than the blue notebook, but seeing this chalkboard hung in our lilliputian kitchen makes me very happy. Already, it's inspiring me to find new ways to use the bounty of our bi-weekly produce share. If there are others of you out there with little things that make you happy in the kitchen, I would love to hear about them here!

So on that note, have a lovely week all and I will look forward to seeing you again next Tuesday! In the meantime, check out this awesome story about the growing trend of roof gardens from The New York Times earlier this week... And a thank you to my dear friend Jo for pointing it out to me!

Rhubard Conundrum.

Friends, I have a problem. It involves rhubarb. Aside from a few appearances in a Strawberry Shortcake cartoon, I've had little to no experience with this spring vegetable. In fact, I cannot remember ever having eaten rhubarb before in my life.

{ The Strawberry Shortcake gang... Still pretty cute, I must say. }

Cut to three weeks ago and my first CSA pick-up of the season (more on that later). Amidst the bounty was a ripe bunch of reddy-pink rhubarb. It was a busy week, with not much time for experiments in the kitchen, so I tucked the stalks away in the crisper draw to save for later. In the meantime, I searched some of my favorite baking sources for the recipe the would provide my first taste, never mind preparation, of rhubarb.

Though I came across a ton of recipes, my mind kept wandering back to two options. One, a classic; strawberry-rhubarb crisp. Never a big pie fan, (unless it's my grandmother-in-law's famous chocolate pie or anything my friend Ann puts in her delicious graham-cracker-crust) I am a devoted lover of crisps and cobblers. Couple that with the aforementioned rhubarb and the truckloads of plump strawberries that I've been impulsively buying recently, and that's shaping up to be a serious late spring dessert. My plan would be to use the peach and raspberry crisp recipe from the Barefoot Contessa, substituting in the rhubarb and sweet strawberries.

On the other hand, I found a fantastic sounding parfait on Epicurious.com from Bon Appétit last spring. Saute the red stalks into a sweet compote with a hefty dose of sugar and a touch of Chambord, top with Greek Yogurt (or vanilla ice cream if I'm in the mood to splurge) and walnut-coconut candy. Sounds pretty amazing, does it not? And perhaps a bit more friendly for those of us preparing for swimsuit season.

{ Photo by Craig Cutler courtesy of Bon Appétit, April 2008 and Epicurious.com }

So help me out here folks... The rhubarb has been patient up to this point, but it won't wait much longer. Which recipe should I go for?