The Perfect Bite

Virginia is for Crab Lovers

On summer vacation, netting is my life.  The stunning blue crab population in the Chesapeake is once again healthy.  Luring dozens of crabs aboard a wooden boat was almost a cardio sport.  Two members of our boat crew were frantically scooping up to three crabs off each twine wrapped chicken thigh while the other three crabbers slowly raised the meat up from the muddy bottom.  The males, Jimmies, were biting like mad.  The mature females, Sooks, were instinctively resting below since they are in a healthy reproduction cycle.

I always prepare blue crabs by steaming them them with Old Bay.  If you don’t have the patience to sit around for a few hours with dirty hands and pick crabs, try another recipe.  Marinate chicken legs in old bay, sliced lemons, chopped onions, parsley and a drizzle of olive oil.  Then grill.  Or, prepare a shrimp, corn and kielbasa  boil.  Regardless, you'll want to have some chilled beverages on hand to quench your thirst.

  -CY

Appetite for America

From Boston to Santa Cruz, we searched out the truest foods in America on a twenty-day drive.
Our best meals out were encouraged by people we met along the way.  Coop’s in New Orleans served up plump fried oysters and crawfish, not to mention Abitas- the local brew.  Jim Neely’s Interstate BBQ put Memphis on our radar.  Plantain breakfast followed by coffee at Joe’s and Amy’s ice cream in Austin was Suzie’s perfect meal.  As a chef, I enjoyed earning room and board by cooking dinner for friends along the way and taking time to sit down together.

Our biggest challenge was finding food worth supporting.  The dilemma forced us to eat dozens of peanut butter, honey and maldon salt sandwiches, pictured above.  It also reinforced our dream plan of building a farm education and cooking center on the east coast.  For a lot of America, food sources are scary and we see a need for change.  Fresh food doesn’t just happen and spring water should not make your teeth ache.  Organic produce is largely unavailable and farmers markets are hard to find.  Many grocery stores have never stocked natural meats, let alone organic. Large cities, Austin for example, were the most progressive with budding small-scale food businesses.  Now, rural America needs to get on board.

We love the landscape of America.  We hope to see it dotted with more worthy farms and supported farmers.  Suzie is learning how to do just that at the sustainable farming program offered at UC Santa Cruz.  I can’t wait to see her grow.

-CLY

Fillet a Fish

  On a recent trip to Alaska, our cousin Eddie visited  the number one fishing port in the nation during Surimi, Pollock and Pacific Grey Cod season.  He reports that the fresh fish are filleted by the boatload,  cleaned by a gang of workers, as it's offloaded.  In a gigantic kitchen, next to the boat, the goods are prepared and packaged for delivery around the world.  The schools of fish attract mascots like hovering bald eagles and hungry sea lions who add to the beauty of the Aleutian Island chain.  I can only imagine how bone chilling it must be to clean fish in negative twenty degrees.  -ER/CY

Many Farms

"Culture evolves when there's enough food available that people can chew their meals slowly and ruminate on what life means."  Amen, Andy Griffin. Until there's enough real food available to all, this quote seems as much a statement about basic human rights as a call for more local farmers. And so I find myself stepping off the city grid and into a life in agriculture. 

As I look around for existing models to learn from, I've discovered some very cool projects right here in New England:  The Food Project, Land's Sake, The Big Ox Farm, Gaining Ground, The Farm School, Shelburne Farms and Green Meadow Farms, among others.  A couple weeks ago I met Ryan Voiland from Red Fire Farm.  He spoke about Equal Exchange, his annual Tomato Trot/Heirloom Festival and how he cover crops by growing clover under napa cabbage, both at the same time. Then he handed out his late harvest carrots, which were surprisingly sweet thanks to early   snowfall that insulated, rather than froze them to death. Later, I attended an MIT lecture about a meat CSA at Chestnut Farms. The husband/wife team brought a three-day old piglet and explained the school bus they've converted into a mobile chicken coop. Sitting in that classroom, listening to ideas about biodiesel from animal waste, an araucana chicken laid a skyblue egg into a boy's hand!  That brave hen hadn't produced any eggs in over a year. So many farms, so many miracles.

Links to all of these inspiring farmers are on the sideboard, left, along with pop-up descriptions if you let the cursor hover over the name.  Andy Griffin grows organically at Mariquita Farm in California, and his Ladybug Letter is awesome. If you like soil, culture, insight and "perspective [that] has grown 'organically' out of lived experience on the farm" without the "nostalgia, regrets or corporate BS," sign up to start receiving!  His latest brought together an unlikely cast of Jeffery Steingarten, Charles Darwin, Farmer McGregor and the Flopsy Bunnies. - sy

get satiated. get educated. get CASEUS’ated.

Pictured left, organic pecorino from the renowned Fratelli Sanna cheesemakers in Siena, Italy.

We were sad to see our good friend Jason pack up and leave Boston, but visiting Caseus, his new cheese shop and bistro in CT, makes us glad we let him go. I stopped by the New Haven store on a recent road trip, just in time for a late lunch of mixed greens and an onion tart on buttery pâte brisée. The man beside me was digging into steak frites with house mayo, and most of the menu takes advantage of the imported cheeses sold downstairs. There’s poutine, grilled cheese lined with jamon de Paris, raclette with roasted baby Yukons and a savory soufflé. Or skip the dairy altogether with a brazen frisée salad of bacon, hazelnuts and a poached egg.

Walking around the exposed brick espresso bar and the shop of imported oils, salumi, jams, salts, chocolates and cheese, you get a sense of the guy that actually dreamed it up and then built it with his own hands. We’ve known Jason as a cheesemonger, a baker, a BBQ master, an academic student of gastronomy and generally a hilarious individual who can charm the socks off your grandmother.  We know - Mommom still asks about him. On my visit, Jason was running around Caseus, offering tours of the cheese cave, asking for feedback on the charcuterie board, foaming milk for a latte and greeting every single person who walked through the door.  He is hands-on. And so are his cookbooks and food library, stacked around the store for anyone to browse. On the walls, you get more of his story and interests: a black & white of Jason’s family in their old New Haven deli, a copy of The Cheese Nun DVD on display above the bistro like a relic, and framed farm shots to remind patrons of the places where honest food like this comes from. 

If you’re looking for more from Caseus, you got it.  They’re all about “educating the palate,” as their website says.  Classes like “Beer Loves Cheese” or “Cheese and Poetry” or “Spanish One Tapas” are always on tap.  Check out Caseus.com for upcoming events.

Tuscany In Print

Spannocchia stars pictured clockwise: a Cinta Senese piglet, Michel the beekeeper, salami curing in the temperature and humidity controlled salumi locker.

Not since I interviewed with bon appétit magazine years ago have I hung around newsstands, waiting for the next issue to hit. February 2008 has finally arrived, at least in print, and flipping to the spread on The Tuscan Cure brought me the most excitement I’ve felt since leaving the featured Italian farm where I lived last fall. The writing is good – stories of the outdoor pizza oven, the rare Cinta Senese pigs I fed so often, Piero the butcher who taught me everything I know about making sopressata, and the impressive 13^th Century tower where Spannocchia’s story begins. But it is the photography that brings me back.  Ten glossy pages sandwiched between a gorgeous salumi plate and a typical courtyard dinner where guests, interns and farm staff broke bread at the same table. 

Cedric Angeles is the photographer behind the incredible pictures of pasta, vin santo grapes, and the many faces that make Spannocchia what it is. I remember his week-long assignment like it was yesterday – the way he got to know his subjects before ever framing a shot, then steadying a medium-format camera and clicking once, maybe twice. Cedric was everywhere that week –the chicken coop, the interns’ Tuscan cooking class, our beekeeping seminar, the prosciutto room and even up at dawn the day that Will, Riccio and I went to the slaughterhouse. 

February is bon appétit’s “green issue.” Spannocchia aside, there are plenty of incentives to go out and get yourself a copy: reasons to keep eating meat, Molly Wizenberg’s debut column and food info on Portland, OR - a city where I’ve been itching to eat.  -sy

Roman Holiday

Some might say, there’s no place like ROME for the holidays. In no particular order, my top food memories from the last few days...

pancetta al’ aceto. warm bacon slabs flooded with vinegar, olive oil, pepper. pictured left, at Borgo Antico - a Slow Food wine bar near the Vatican. mostly cold salumi plates on the blackboard menu, but also some hot dishes like zuppa di farro ed orzo (farro-barley vegetable soup.) farro is a grain i’ve seen all over Italy.  it’s called emmer in the US and is one of the most ancient varieties of wheat.

roasted chestnuts twisted into a paper cone from a street vendor.  pictured right, on the south side of Piazza Navona.

aqua frizzante.  my new favorite: Guadianello from natural springs on the slopes of the extinct volcano Vulture in southern Basilicata.

brutti ma buoni (“ugly but good” cookies) at a pastry shop round the corner from the Pantheon. toasted almond-egg white-cinnamon mounds.

salted caramels, THE highlight from S.A.I.D. chocolate, a short walk to San Lorenzo from the Rome train station.  originally opened in 1923 and, pictured left,the shop looks straight out of SoHo – attached to its own chocolate factory.  long wood tables display pretty chocolate blocks, flavored bars wrapped in lace and terroir bars tied up with ribbons around tissue paper. glass jars filled with fig candy, wooden bins of hazelnut gianduia, a praline counter, and antique chocolate-making tools all the way to the café/restaurant in the back. the chocolate bar I’m taking back to Boston with me? dark, 70% made with Himalayan crystal salt.

-sy

Into The Woods

Pictured left, chestnuts hiding in their spiked cupule.

My last WWOOF stay at a Livorno forest garden sounded like a fairytale from the description. It was, indeed – a wild space where all the fruit and nut trees make an immediate picnic and you can nap under a twisting kiwi plant with a fish pond at your feet. More than an enchanting retreat, though, multistrata systems like these might be the future in a world wading deeper into global warming and hunger. Super efficient, they produce a great deal of food in an impressively small space, with very little human input.  How? Shade, for starters. With a hedge on all sides, the microclimate within is created by canopy layers of trees, shrubs, climbers, vines, ground cover and creepers. 

From what I’ve seen, food forests offer a lot to believe in: biodiversity, increased CO2, low maintenance, abundance of edible plants, limited digging, cool temperatures. The rewards are more than already mentioned: seeds, herbs, spices, mushrooms, fuel wood, canes, tying materials, medicinal plants and honey.  And woodlands encourage imagination; the example I visited plans to construct a straw bale house in a center clearing!

I’ve seen companion crops before - two-story systems with rosemary in strawberry patches and peppers between cornstalks. But never before had I heard of a forest garden. Well, the idea turns out not to be new at all. Agroforestry has deep roots in tropical Africa and Asia, even temperate climates in China.  But it only came to Great Britain some 40 years ago, thanks to an experimental man named Robert Hart.  Even today, there are only three examples in Italy. I have no idea about American projects, but I’m so taken by the idea that I might just build one myself. Couldn’t we all use “a shelter and shade from the heat of the day, and a refuge and hiding place from the storm and rain”? I happened upon that Canopy description in Isaiah, the same exact day I first set foot in one! -sy

Savor The Day

My mother’s prized pecan pie, pictured left, is just one of the tastes I look forward to at Thanksgiving.  For me, this holiday is more than a meal.  The Yates family heads through southern York County for a slow day where we enjoy each other’s company deep in the Pennsylvania woods.  Tucked into a cabin with no electricity, we rely on the fireplace to warm all of the food prepared before the journey through farmland.  It's fun to bake potatoes in the ancient fireplace, shoot clay pigeons, fly fish in the stream and take a hike after the great meal.  This year a handful of us extended the celebration by heading down to Chincoteague, Virginia for the holiday weekend.  We’re going to make a second Thanksgiving meal tonight, this one with Southern flare.  Stay tuned for deep fried turkey tips, cornbread stuffing ideas and sweet potato pie pictures.  CY

Thanks

Pictured left, Spannocchia’s own Cinta Senese spalla, prized for its exceptional marbling and rich flavor from an acorn diet. 

Thanksgiving is THE family tradition I most look forward to:  the clay pigeon shooting contest, turkey and sweet potatoes by the cabin campfire, and a slow post-turkey stroll through the forest where my grandfather founded a fishing club decades ago.  The woodland location is sweet, and the recipes are worth the yearlong wait.  But it’s the family that brings me home. 

I can close my eyes and see the whole day unfolding, and this year I have to.  So far from the people and traditions I love, I will spend tomorrow making my final animal rounds on a Tuscan farm.  Friday completes my three month internship at Spannocchia , where for twelve weeks I’ve apprenticed with some seriously inspiring people.  I’ve been hiking up Pig Hill and biking to the cow pasture, occasionally leading the sheep to new pasture.  And more often than not, labeling the salumi that I helped butcher, massage, cure and sell at local fairs. 

As we wrap up our fall stay here and prepare the farm for the slip into winter hibernation, I am reassured that new seasons are part of the natural progression.  Among our last few chores is retrieving the grapes that are hanging in the laundry room for pressing and fermenting into sweet vin santo dessert wine.  Yesterday a wild boar showed up to mealtime with the pigs; the day before 39 piglets had their vet visit to determine which should be selected for breeding; and in about an hour we’ll kick off everyone’s favorite - pizza night.  I just got news that we had lamb birth this afternoon, and if we’re lucky, we’ll convince Riccio that tomorrow is the day to purchase 20 baby chicks to bump up our egg production. 

I have a lot to be thankful for, and I hope all my friends and family know how much I love and miss them.  I’ll be traveling around Italy before my return to the States, but when I get back I have a lot to share about my experiences – about my connection to the land and the incredible people I’ve met and the way that I want to grow.  I’m coming back to a country where we lose 140 acres of farmland every four hours, and I intend to skew the statistics. 

Happy Thanksgiving! - sy

Give Me Something Good To Eat

Handmade chocolate truffles and pumpkin sugar cookies are usually frowned upon by trick-or-treaters.  Kids can only take commercial candy that comes safely sealed, and for good reason.  I take this opportunity to step out of the kitchen and enjoy pumpkin carving.  My sister Deb and her husband carved these scary pumpkins to guard their walkway tonight.  For handing out candy, I always wear something food  themed like a life-size s'more outfit or I become human sized piping bag with a "fluted tip" tin foil crown. 
                                                                                 This year I'll dress up as a wounded chef,
wearing my dirtiest chef whites and wrapping a beet stained side
towel around one hand.  Trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat.  -CY

Pick One Today

On a crisp October day I find nothing more satisfying than heading to an apple orchard, climbing a few ladders and eating many apples just off the tree.  Apple picking could be my best sport yet.  Last Saturday, with eager eyes, a distended stomach and a huge bag filled with Mutsu, Cortland, Jonagold, Red Delicious and Empire apples, I knew that cooking was in my immediate future.  I have already baked two apple cakes, one a major disaster the other a sweet success.  I’ve also made my famous adult applesauce.  Recipes to follow!  So dear blog readers who are tired of me only posting dessert recipes:  pick one today.   Serve the savory onion applesauce with a main course of Berkshire pork chops.  And then, cap off your meal with a slice of buttery apple cake and perhaps a glass of Calvados. -CY

Adult Applesauce
Ingredients:
5 apples, cored and cut into large slices
1 onion
3 Tablespoons butter
pinch of salt
Dash of bourbon or dark rum
Cinnamon
Nutmeg

Method:
1.    In a saucepan, melt the butter and sweat onions without browning, 3-5 minutes.
2.    Add sliced apples and 1/4 cup water.  Cover and let simmer until apples have totally collapsed. 
3.    Season with a pinch of salt and a swig of booze.  Puree.
4.    Garnish with a dash of cinnamon and nutmeg.

All Butter Apple Cake
Ingredients:
½ Pound of Salted Butter, soft
1 Cup sugar
1 teaspoon Vanilla
4 eggs
2 Cup flour
3/4 teaspoon baking powder
salt
2 apples, cut into chunks

3 Tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon Cinnamon

Method:
1.    Cream butter and sugar in a mixing bowl with paddle attachment. 
2.    Add the eggs one at a time.  Add the vanilla.
3.    Combine the flour, baking powder and salt.  Slowly add the dry ingredients to the butter mixture.  Paddle until combined.
4.    Pour the batter into a greased pan, bundt, round or other shape.
5.    Press the fruit into the batter. 
6.    Combine the remaining sugar and cinnamon.  Sprinkle the cake.
7.    Bake in a 350° oven until tester comes out clean, about thirty minutes. 

Out With Figs, In With Walnuts

In rereading an email I recently sent to a West Coast friend, I thought I would also post it below. It paints a nice picture of the seasonal changes underway in Tuscany and much of the excitement that has been rustling up at Spannocchia.  Otherwise, this has been a crazy/sobering week in the "transformation room" butchering four pigs that I've been feeding since I arrived here in late August.  And tomorrow Carrie is driving us interns two hours off-farm for a truffle hunt! Pictured left is the sweet little lamb we've adopted as our mascot.  Sadly, her mother did not survive the birth, so we've been bottle feeding her for one month.  Here she is, just two days old. 

...Spannocchia is settling into fall. The figs are officially finished, but the walnuts are ready for cracking and the acorns are dropping in such volume that the pigs are actually skipping meals.  We had a sort of animal anarchy the other weekend with horses, piglets and cows on the loose, plus two chickens went missing for a day.  While chasing the huge Calvana cattle back, one of them actually leapt over a wall!

There was a wild boar hunt last week, which I helped butcher. And the first of the pigs (Crooked Face's siblings) will soon stock our freezers. The orphaned lamb is about to reintegrate with the flock, but none of us want to let her go. And the fruit on the persimmon tree is changing color every day. Wild crocus are blooming all over the place, like little yellow cups across the lawn. Which reminds me of our other big project - saffron cultivation. It's a different variety than wild crocus, but we planted the bulbs and expect blossoms in November.  Because of how labor intensive it is to harvest the stamens, saffron is supposedly more expensive per pound than gold!  So we're all keeping a close eye on that one. 

The olive harvest should be just around the corner, and the grape harvest fell in late September this year, lasting four incredible days long.  Of course, we began the same day the skies decided to open up and end the punishing drought.  But we couldn't delay hand shearing the fruit, as our new wine making method required dry ice that was already fogging up the cantina. Luckily, it all worked out - 2007 is bottled and the vin santo grapes are dangling like a laundry line, coincidentally in the wash room...  -sy

Honey Harvest

Pictured left is Spannocchia’s own honey, which Heather and I helped harvest last Tuesday.  We met beekeeper Gabriello by the town mushroom statue in Pievescola and followed him to his honey lab.  There we spent four hours processing 200 kg from just 12 bee boxes.  Our honeys are typical of Tuscany:  hay-colored acacia honey that’s light and sweet; bitter chestnut honey in the same ominous shade as molasses; and golden millefiori, or “thousand flower,” honey.

We worked all morning, breaking only to snack on local pecorino cheese with honey, naturally.  The straightforward process began by dislodging nine sticky planks from each box.  The most labor intensive step was unsealing the wax that covered the individual cells of the honeycomb.  Machinery helped, but there was still a good deal of hand work with metal picks and a mini saw/knife.  After centrifuging and filtering, the liquid gold drizzled into a barrel for one week of allowing the air bubbles to surface.  We should be bottling any day now. 

The whole morning was amazing, from the sticky, popping noise of pricking the cells, to tasting the range of varieties right from the honeycomb.  I’ve been eating an insane amount of the stuff since I came to Spannocchia – spread on toast, mixed into oatmeal and tea and even straight from the spoon.  Here in Italy we don’t have the mysterious disappearing bee problem that the US is experiencing.  But a drought has halved production nationwide.  For the country’s best, look for acacia or chestnut honey labeled Miele della Lunigiana PDA.  -sy

Satisfied Shopper

Joigny, a tiny town in the middle of Burgundy, is home to a lovely market.  The three days a week it is open, it becomes the buzzing center of town, dominating traffic patterns and providing social interaction for locals, expats and the few tourists the town can hold.  The covered building is packed wi th a worldly spice stand, a handful of butchers who cut meat and make charcuterie, local chevre sold by children, a complete cheese cart, a rabbit stand (nothing live), three bakers, a woman who sells eggs and a dozen produce spreads.  While I was living one town over, in the Chateau du Fey, market trips were the best part of each week.  It was rewarding to make friends with the egg woman who encouraged me to bring  back the egg cartons for re-use and visit the husband & wife team who sold organic produce each week.  Best of all, I learned the names of lettuces, cheeses, vegetables and fruit as the seasons changed from summer to fall.  -CY

Spannocchia

Yesterday I fed 81 Cinta Sinese pigs from flour that I had milled the day before.  Today I cleaned the salumi locker and collected eggs that hold the most brilliant yolks I’ve ever seen.  And tomorrow morning I will bike out to a flock of Pomarancina sheep to see a newborn that was discovered just hours ago.  This is the life I traveled to Italy for, and I’ve never consumed less nor enjoyed each day more. 

For the next three months I get to wake up as a Spannocchia intern – one of nine here to learn from and contribute to a “living museum of traditional rural life in Tuscany.”  The 1200 acre property rises up out of the hills, as a wildlife refuge that has been farmed for more than 800 years.  It is a unique place, certainly, where conservation of natural resources is the cornerstone.  Not only are the organic gardens tiered with heirloom varieties, but the sustainable forestry program rotates through a 20-year harvesting program and the farm animals are rare heritage breeds.  But what impresses me most is the community.  Everyone, from year-round staff to B&B guests, interns and volunteers is entirely different.  We’re all thinking in the same direction toward responsible living, but the backgrounds, ages, interests, fields, and perspectives spin the conversation and keep it interesting.  We come together each night, after a day of work or play or painting or study, to gather at the same table under the stars and enjoy traditional Tuscan dinners.

Spannocchia smells like heaven and looks like a fairytale, and I cannot believe that I am here.  Earlier this evening I sat in the purple flowers pictured left, just to watch the bees and smell the wild mint.  It’s not at all the way I’m used to living in Boston, and it is entirely refreshingly.  Because I am part of the animali crew here, I hope to post more about the pigs and the prosciutto in the months to come.  Fall is also the season for the grape and olive harvests and porcini mushroom hunting in the forest.  The fig trees are already in full swing, and the chestnuts will follow.  I'm loving the updates from friends and family - please keep them coming!  -sy

No Cones at San Crispino

Hidden in city center Rome, San Crispino holds such high standards for its gelato, you can’t even see the options when inching up to the counter.  Each pure flavor is guarded under a shiny insulated lid to keep it at just the right temperature and free from cross contamination.  Good thing, because a visual of gray banana might deter you from trying what would be the best ice cream of your life.  There’s nothing but all-natural ingredients here, made from scratch and scooped out as ordered.  Just be sure the flavors go together because the owners are so serious about their craft, they will outright refuse clashing combinations like bergamot and pistachio.  And don’t dare ask for a cone, which they “consider unhygienic” according to one NY Times article.  But forget the rules.  The actual gelato is stunning, in familiar flavors that I’ve never tasted with such intensity: Valrhona chocolate, bourbon vanilla and plum sorbet.  Their honey-infused signature is Il Gelato di San Crispino, but lemon cream was my personal favorite.  

Il Gelato di San Crispino has three Rome locations, including the one I went to at Via della Panetteria 42  near the Trevi Fountain.  Definitely toss a coin in the fountain (to guarantee your return to Rome,) but don’t look twice at the countless gelaterias glowing neon. San Crispino is just around the corner and sufficiently far from the mob of tourists.  I’m thrilled that I found the place, and I’m thrilled to visit such an amazing city layered with more history, art and religion than one person could ever adequately absorb.  In two days I travel to Tuscany, where I’ll be studying sustainable agriculture for three months!  Next stop, Siena.  Then, on to Spannocchia.  -sy

Don't plant peas...

When I shop at the local farmers' market, my first stop is Farmer Al's stand, pictured left.  His blueberries are the perfect bite while making my rounds.  Truthfully, though, it's the running commentary that keeps me dropping by every Wednesday.  You never know what he'll say.  Sentences typically start with, "young people these days..." or, "this is a democracy, buy as many pints as you want..."  Blueberries are the main attraction here, but you might also find specialty greens, tomatoes, red onions, or Al's own blueberry drink at 25 cents per cup.  A few copies of Farmer Al's Seeds of Wisdom are usually for sale, too, full of stuff that makes me smile.  For example, "Don't plant peas and expect to harvest potatoes."   

Lately I've been collecting pictures of my favorite people and places.  After six wonderful years of living in the Boston area, I find myself preparing for a big trip.  Not to the Middle East, which was seeming a real possibility.  And not a permanent move, at least for now.  Rather, a long pause in a place where people actually breath the seasons.  Undoubtedly, it will be a turning point.  As someone wise once said, "The important thing is this: To be able at any moment to sacrifice what we are for what we could become."  More trip details in an upcoming post, but it is Wednesday and I am out of blueberries.  -sy   

A Crisp a Day Keeps the Fruit Flies Away

If you have any summer fruit that needs to be used immediately, this post is for you.  Make a crisp.  Most stone fruit, stalks and berries shine in this SIMPLE dessert.  Tons of combinations work, and these are my favorites:  strawberry & apricot; cherry & berry; rhubarb & raspberry; nectarine, blueberry & peach.  Pictured left is a cherry, rhubarb & strawberry crisp I made for the 4th of July.

First, cut the fruit into similar sized pieces - or not at all if you’re using berries.  Pit any cherries.  Next, toss the fruit with a quarter cup of granulated sugar and a couple of tablespoons of flour or cornstarch to thicken the juices.  This is a very casual dessert, so feel free to eye these measurements.  Place the fruit mix in a baking dish, allowing a half inch for the topping.  Generously cover with the crisp topping and bake until it is brown and bubbling.  Serve warm, cold or for breakfast.  Pair with ice cream, whipped cream or coffee. 

Crisp Topping

Ingredients:
1/2 lb. of butter, cold and cut into pieces
2 C all purpose flour
1 C brown sugar, loosely packed
1 t kosher salt
*Optional:  ½ C oatmeal, ½ C of pecans or almonds, pinch of cinnamon, pinch of nutmeg

Method:
1.    In a food processor with the blade attachment pulse the dry ingredients.
2.    Stop the machine.  Add the butter chunks and pulse again, until crumbs form.  When the mixture has combined it will resemble pebbles and coarse sand.
3.    Use enough topping to generously cover the fruit.  Store any extra topping in the fridge or freezer for another crisp.

-CY

Market Profile: Maxixe

Maxixe, pictured left, looks like nothing you’d want to wrap your lips around.  But the egg shaped vegetable with spiky skin turns out to be all bark and no bite.  Crunchy and refreshing, it's exactly the snack I reach for while sweating it out in an 80 degree heat spell.  Related to the cucumber and thought to have originated in Africa, Maxixe [ma-SHE-shee] is today most widely grown in Brazil and the West Indies, used in soups and salads.  Contained in a taught skin, the interior is lightly sweet and absolutely jammed with seeds.  The handful that I bought at the Davis Square Farmers’ Market went, diced, into a summer quinoa herb salad with sautéed squash and sweet corn. 

As one discovery often points to another, the growers behind my locally grown Maxixe turned out to be part of an incredible training operation.  Located in Lancaster, MA, the Flats Mentor Farm teaches small start-up farmers from a range of ethnic backgrounds how to raise vegetables using sustainable methods.  They concentrate their 20 acres on Asian produce, though each project in the Northeast Network of Immigrant Farming Programs (NNIFP) has a different angle.  The Flats Mentor Farm sells at 16 Boston area farmers’ markets and co-ops, but I did not see a single sign where I was shopping.  Just look for stands selling other rarities like Amaranth, Taro Leaves, Yau Choy, Lemon Grass, and Yard Long Beans and Fuzzy Melon.  -sy