What am I chewing on, you ask? Last week I went to a talk with Joel Salatin, the owner of Polyface Farm in Virginia. You might remember him as the passionate farmer from the third part of Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma. He also has a prominent role in the documentary Food, Inc., which is currently making the artsy cinema rounds (I would recommend a viewing if it’s playing near you).

The man is fascinating. “Preaching farmer” is the best description that comes to mind. He is incredibly passionate and enthusiastic about his work and he loves to share his views on anything and everything related to food and farming. I can’t remember the last time I was so interested to hear what a speaker was going to say next.

I could go on and on about how inspiring he is, but even more inspiring is what he had to say. The theme of his talk tonight was food safety. Joel’s view of food safety is quite different, needless to say, from that of someone at the USDA or the FDA. Joel runs a small farm using techniques that are becoming less and less familiar: reason and common sense. He believes that these methods should apply to food safety laws as well. The farm and food safety bills that are currently in existence are clearly written with the intention to keep big industrial food production companies in business, and to shut down the small businesses, the family-run, poly-culture farms, and anyone else operating outside of the industrial food system. It is a system that is threatening so much in our world; not only food safety, but the environment, our natural resources, and the general well-being of us all.

Joel, being somewhat of a Libertarian, believes that government intervention in the food industry is mostly to blame. He provided an example from long ago: in 1906, Upton Sinclair wrote The Jungle, a journalistic exposé of the meat industry of the time. Within six months of the publication of the book, meat sales dropped by 50% for the large-scale, industrial producers. Those big companies then went to the government and asked for some kind of regulatory system that would gain the public’s trust back. The government created the Food Safety and Inspection Service, which stamped the industrially produced meat as “safe to eat.” Joel asked, what if the government hadn’t intervened? Well, the meat producers would have had to change their methods in order to keep their customers. They would have had to prove to the public that their meat was clean and produced in a safe environment. Instead, the government created standards for the companies to meet, and the public started to trust that the government was enforcing those standards, and to trust that those standards were adequate to produce safe food. But how adequate can those standards be, if the industrial slaughterhouses and the confined animal feeding operations are still considered up to par?

What the rules and regulations imposed by the government tend to do instead is to prohibit small business trying to produce and sell food outside of the industrial realm. The farmer who grows micro greens, washes them, and brings them to the farmers’ market to sell, for instance, is shut down because her food was not “processed” in a facility that was “up to code.”

What if food producers were judged, Joel asks, not on how many bathrooms are in their facility or if they have video surveillance for their workers, but on how clean their food is? What if that was the only regulation the government imposed? How many of those industrial producers would be out of business?

Joel ended on a positive note: what choices are you going to make for yourself to support a food system separate from the industrial realm? Are you going to make dinner from scratch once this week? Are you going to bake bread for the first time? These choices don’t have to be a major life overhaul; they can be simple and joyful. My personal choice is to join a CSA (community-supported agriculture) farm next year. I’m excited to know where my produce is coming from and have a direct relationship with the people that grow it. What choices are you making?

Con gusto,
Amie

If you haven’t seen it yet, I highly recommend a viewing.  I just couldn’t help but smiling the whole way through.  There’s just something about Julia Child, even someone pretending to be her, that makes me happy.  Judging by the frequency with which I hear others talking about the movie, I’m not alone there.  Julia is so beloved by so many people, and yet, I think everyone who loves her feels like they have a unique connection with her.

In addition to seeing the movie, may I also recommend checking out old episodes of “The French Chef” from your local library.  It’s just marvelous to watch her cook.

And the movie did inspire me to try my hand at one of her recipes.  The only Julia cookbook I have is From Julia Child’s Kitchen, and tonight I will be attempting filets de sole Dugléré (filets of sole with white wine sauce and tomatoes).  I’m excited.

Side note: I’ve been trying to get myself to purchase new vegetables at the farmer’s market, ones that I’ve never tried before.  Today’s purchase: kohlrabi.  The farmers said it was good in salads and stir-fries… any suggestions?

Con gusto,

Amie

Yes, it’s been ridiculously, uncomfortably, unusually hot here in Portland.  This tends to push thoughts of eating, not to mention cooking, far from one’s mind.  I’ve been looking for ways to keep nourishing myself while not inducing heat stroke.  So naturally, my mind has turned to salads.

Irene bought me a cookbook called The Farm to Table Cookbook: The Art of Eating Locally, by Ivy Manning, for Christmas last year.  It’s the kind of cookbook filled with gorgeous pictures, stories about local farmers, and recipes that inspire visions of deliciousness.  I found a recipe in the book titled “Grilled Tuna Steaks with Roasted Niçoise Salad.”  Although the word “roasted” gave me pause on the 90 degree day, the vision of veggies, grilled fish, and the accompanying basil sauce was very enticing.

I have to be honest though.  I’m a little bit of a grilling wimp.  It’s just not a heat source I’m very comfortable with; I’m more at home with a gas burner or trusty old oven.  As usual, I put Irene in charge of grilling duties, while I stayed in the kitchen with the veggies and the basil sauce.  It is one of my goals (although not one at the very top of my goal list) to get more comfortable at the grill.

Anyway, my assumptions about the recipe were pretty spot on.  The veggies were light and flavorful, made all the more tasty by the delicious basil sauce.  I chose to leave out the niçoise olives, which I realize might mean that it’s no longer technically a niçoise salad, but I’m just not a big olive fan.  We used albacore tuna steaks, since that’s the local tuna here, but I’m sure any type would compliment the meal quite well.

Grilled Tuna Steaks with Roasted Veggie Salad
adapted from From Farm to Table by Ivy Manning

serves 4 (with some leftover salad)

For the salad:
Four 4-oz. tuna steaks, 1 ½ to 2 inches thick
2 tablespoons plus 1 teaspoon extra virgin olive oil, divided
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
6 medium new potatoes (the red-skinned ones)
1 pound green beans, ends trimmed, and cut into 2-inch pieces
1 pint cherry tomatoes
3 anchovy fillets, canned in olive oil
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar

For the basil sauce:
1 medium garlic clove
1 tablespoon lemon juice
2 pinches sea salt
2 cups basil leaves, loosely packed
¼ cup extra virgin olive oil

1.    Preheat the oven to 400°F and line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper. Rub the tuna with 1 teaspoon of the oil and a little salt and pepper.  Leave the tuna to sit at room temperature while you’re working on the veggies and basil sauce.  Ivy says that the fish cooks more evenly if it starts at room temperature.  I took her word on this one, even though my food safety instincts wanted me to put the fish in the fridge.

2.    Chop the potatoes into quarters or eighths, depending on the size of your potatoes.  Put them in a medium saucepan, cover them with cold water, and add some salt to the water.  Cover the pot, bring the water to a boil, lower the heat, and simmer the potatoes until just tender all the way through.  I like to test them after just 4-5 minutes, because if you boil them for too long, they’ll just fall apart.  (One of the things I learned in my cooking class: start boiling potatoes in cold water.  This breaks down the starches and makes them sweet and delicious.)  Once they’re just tender, drain them and put them in a large bowl to cool.

3.    Toss the remaining veggies (green beans and tomatoes) with the anchovies, vinegar, salt, pepper, and remaining oil, then spread them out on the baking sheet.  Bake until the beans are tender and the tomatoes are soft and starting to collapse.  This took about 15 minutes in my oven.  Once the veggies are done, combine them with the cooked potatoes.

4.    Make the basil sauce. (Ivy completes this process in a mortar and pestle, but I do not have one.  A blender worked just fine.)  Put the garlic, lemon juice, and salt in the jar of the blender and grind together.  Then add the basil and grind until the mixture is fairly smooth (you may need to scrape the sides of the jar with a rubber spatula once or twice).  With the motor running and the top on the blender jar, add the oil through the whole in the jar top in a thin stream, blending until the mixture is smooth and creamy.  Note: my sauce did not come together at all until I added the oil, and then it turned into a nice smooth, pesto-smelling sauce.

5.    Preheat the grill (or grill pan) until very hot.  Add the tuna steaks and grill on once side for about 2 minutes.  Turn the steaks over and grill on the other side until the fish is medium rare.  This should take about another two minutes.  Ivy’s test for fish doneness: insert a paring knife into the thickest part of the fish steak, and keep it there for a few seconds.  Then touch the tip of the knife to your lower lip; if the knife is warm, the fish should be cooked medium.

6.    Divide the salad among 4 plates, and place the fish steaks atop the salad.  Drizzle the salad and fish with the basil sauce (then put any remaining sauce on the table, because you’ll probably want to lick the bowl clean).

Happy summer cooking!
Con gusto,
Amie

But then again, that’s ridiculous.  It’s summer.  The fruit and veggies are beautiful and plentiful.  Inspiration can be found anywhere and everywhere.

My six-week cooking class at the Chefs Studio has ended.  I think the last class kind of snuck up and took everyone by surprise, and we were all a bit sad that the course was coming to an end.  It was a really nice class, though.  I learned a bit about French technique and gastronomic geography, a bit about cooking with your senses (instead of just adhering to the directions), and a bit about improvisation when things don’t go according to plan.  I’m very much looking forward to my next class there…

…But in the meantime, it’s time for me to take what I’ve learned into my own kitchen.  With that in mind, I attempted to re-create a sweet pepper soup that we had made at our last cooking class to serve at a party my friend Will was hosting.  (The soup was to be an accompaniment to Will’s most excellent pizza.  The man knows his way around a pizza pie; see his blog at http://egadman.blogspot.com/.)

The attempt was not exactly successful, by my standards.  Some problems that I encountered:
•    The weatherman forecasted a high of 90° for the day of the party.  Not exactly soup weather.
•    The party was scheduled for a Friday evening, which meant the soup had to be prepared the day before.
•    The day before the party was also extremely hot.  Not a day for standing over the stove.
•    I was attempting to make enough soup for 20-30 people.  I’m not accustomed to cooking for a group of that size, and it’s hard to estimate.
•    I had to remove the skins from 16 bell peppers.  I decided to roast and sweat the peppers, instead of just peeling them.  I had never actually roasted and sweated peppers before.
•    On cooking day, I was quite tired from having stayed up late to see Harry Potter the night before.

I solved one of the problems by turning it into a chilled soup.  The rest of the problems combined to form one larger problem: I wasn’t really in the mood to cook.  This whole undertaking was a strong reminder that food made by someone who is not in the mood to make food never comes out very well.  The soup was good, but lacked the flavor I remembered from class.

I do think, though, that under the right circumstances, this soup could be very tasty.  Also, we’re coming into bell pepper season.  And so, I’m providing the recipe, slightly adapted from the recipe we made in class:

Sweet Pepper Soup

3 medium sweet peppers, cut in julienne and peeled*
4 small white spring onions, sliced
2-3 tablespoons excellent olive oil
salt
2-3 cups good, homemade chicken stock
1-2 tablespoons chopped fresh basil
1 tablespoon heavy cream

1.  Pour enough olive oil into a 2-quart saucepan to cover the bottom with oil.  Heat it over a medium flame, then add the sliced onions.  Add the peeled peppers on top of the onions.  Sprinkle the veggies with salt.  This will draw water in which the veggies will stew.
2.  Put a lid on the pot, turn the heat down and let the veggies overcook so that they are limp, yet retaining as much of their juice in the pot as possible.
3.  When tender, add 2 cups of broth.  Liquefy half the mixture in a blender.  Adjust the texture of the liquefied mixture so that it is no thicker than heavy cream.  Adjust the consistency with more liquid or vegetables as needed.
4.  Once the desired texture is obtained, season the soup with small pinches of salt, tasting between each addition until the flavors of the soup reveal themselves.
5.  Add one tablespoon of chopped basil, mix in the blender, and taste.  If a stronger basil flavor is desired, add more and mix in the blender again.  Once the desired basil flavor is reached, add cream and mix once more.
6.  Pour the soup off into a bowl, and repeat the procedure with the second half of the cooked vegetables and broth.  Mix both batches and reheat when ready to serve.**

*Peppers should be peeled because their skins are very sulfurous and hard to digest.  Peeling peppers is rather difficult, though; they can also be roasted in the oven or over a flame until charred, then sweated in a paper bag for 10 minutes.  The skins then slip right off.
**The soup is also good chilled, but might be more flavorful as a warm soup.  Perhaps a recipe to save for a chilly summer evening.

Con gusto!
Amie

But the chef went through each step one by one, breaking the recipes down into their main components.  Before we knew it, we were around the table, enjoying the fruits of our labor.

Even though this menu seemed to require more time and effort that the previous ones, and even though the meal was quite tasty, what sticks in my mind about this class is the experience of enjoying the food with my classmates.  You often hear people say that the best thing about food is the way it brings people together at the table to share a truly enjoyable moment together; that a good meal allows us a break in our hectic schedules, a moment of peace when we can talk, laugh, and, of course, eat.

When I have people coming over for dinner, I so often get all caught up in the food.  What am I making, how long will it take, will it come out perfectly, what went wrong when it doesn’t come out perfectly….  I get so preoccupied with the food that I forget to take a breath, relax, and enjoy the company.

This last class felt more special because I think we all finally breathed, relaxed, and enjoyed ourselves and each other.  Not that we hadn’t before, but I know that I had been more focused on the food, as is my nature.  There was something about this class, our fourth one together, that helped us all (or maybe it was just me and I’m projecting on everyone else) to shift our concentration a bit from the food to the people around us.  We ate, we drank some wine, we talked about what we’d learned so far, about the food-wine geography of France, about the chef’s dream of having a Minister of Food (a grandmotherly woman with a big stick whose job it is to knock some food sense into the American public)….  Before we knew it, it was 10 o’clock and time for us all to return to the real world.

It was a good reminder to me to take my eyes off my food, sometimes, and look at the people I’m sharing my table with.  I hope all of you do the same from time to time, too.

Con gusto,
Amie

I’ve had two more classes at the Chef Studio in the meantime, both of which ended in tasty meals.  Our second class featured a Provencal bistro menu and focused on the idea of using leftover ingredients to create a new dish, as well as feed a bunch of people.  The construct the chef used to demonstrate this idea was the cake.  Not the sweet, dessert cake, but a savory cake, often seen in the form of crabcakes or potato pancakes.  Two of our courses involved using a small amount of leftover ingredients, whether fish or veggies, mixing them with cooked potato, coating in breadcrumbs, and pan-frying.  And really, you can’t go wrong when your dish involves mashed potatoes fried in butter.  It truly is a great way to stretch your leftover ingredient to feed lots of people, and to feed them well.

The flavors of Brittany (northwestern France, lots of coastline) were featured in our third class.  Two of the dishes we prepared in this course featured a method I’m beginning to think is quite common to French country cooking, as it appeared in the first two classes as well: cooking a vegetable or meat in a simple manner, and pairing it with a perfect sauce.  We prepared poached cauliflower with béarnaise sauce, and pan-fried cod with fish mayonnaise.  Previously, we’d made roast pork with sweet pepper sauce and duck breast with honey lavender sauce.  Sauces are not something I’ve experimented with much in my own cooking, aside from the occasional peanut-sesame sauce.  But in each dish, the sauce complimented the main ingredient just right, the flavors of the ingredient and those of the sauce entwining perfectly.  In particular, the sweetness and richness of the sweet pepper sauce enhanced the saltiness of the pork, and the mayonnaise, which we had made using fish stock, just melted with the flaky fish on the tongue.

I also finally got a chance to practice what I’ve been learning in class!  The other best thing about cooking classes, aside from eating what you learned, is the joy of impressing your friends with your newfound knowledge.  Two friends were coming over for dinner, and I decided it was a perfect opportunity to attempt to recreate the delicious pork and sweet pepper sauce dish from my first class.  This alone was not enough for dinner, so I included a simple appetizer of crostini with pea and parmesan puree, and a dessert of strawberries with almond crème anglaise, as seen on Mark Bittman’s NY Times blog, Bitten.
The pea and parmesan puree turned out quite well, considering that it was a last minute addition to the menu.  It consisted of fresh shelling peas, steamed until soft and warm, pureed with parmesan cheese, olive oil, and a bit of fresh garlic.  The result was a stunningly green topping for our crostini, a perfect snack while we waiting for the pork.

I used pork loin chops for the main course, and first seared them on both sides in my cast iron pan, then popped the whole thing in the oven until the chops were cooked through.  Pork is a tough meat to cook completely without drying out.  Searing and roasting seems to be a relatively reliable method, so that you seal in the juices before putting the meat in the oven.  The sweet pepper sauce consisted of, in addition to pureed bell peppers (which had been peeled, cut into strips, and cooked down until they were soft and sweet), salt, sherry vinegar, fresh thyme, and a bit of butter.  I made Irene (the guinea pig in all of my culinary experiments) taste the sauce after each addition to see how the flavors changed.  I included some roasted asparagus, and the bright green of the veggie and yellow of the sauce made for quite a nice presentation (of which it was surprisingly difficult to get a good picture).  [Side note: any food photography pointers are always welcome.]

We finished off the meal with some of the ripest, sweetest strawberries, and a deliciously sweet, nutty crème anglaise.  Not a bad dinner ☺

Con gusto,
Amie

My first class at the Chef Studio was lovely.  There were four of us students, all with different levels of food experience, one chef, and one chef’s assistant.  We started the class with a discussion of the food geography of France; the use of olive oil and garlic in southern France, butter and shallots in northern France, and pork fat in northeastern France (I think I’d like it there).

Chef explained how, in traditional French country cooking, there is always a sense of place inherent in every dish, every meal.  One goes out to their garden to harvest the ripe fruits and vegetables, then goes out to the forest to forage for available wild foods, then goes back home to create a meal with what was found.  All the ingredients have come from one soil.  This is quite distinct from the modern custom of going to the supermarket to buy chicken from Iowa, spinach from California, an avocado from Mexico, and rice from China.  Instead, the traditions of French country cooking center on the idea of harmony and flow from one stage of the meal to the next.

The other idea Chef introduced is that of the “construct” in cooking, as opposed to a recipe.  Traditional French cuisine is built on constucts, which allow a cook to adapt and experiment, and which appear over and over in different forms.  The construct of a custard appears, with slight alterations, in a tart, in a quiche, in a creme brulee, in a clafoutis, etc.  Instead of going to the supermarket with a list of specific items needed to make a specific recipe, a French cook might go to the market to see what looks good, and based on that, decide on the night’s menu.  She might see a particularly tasty looking bit of Roquefort cheese and decide to add that into the basic construct of a tart to create a delicious Roquefort tart.  I really like this idea, and I hope it’s one we’ll continue to explore.

Of course, a recap of the class wouldn’t be complete without a description of the menu:

Roquefort custards, with green bean and cherry garnish — These were really quite tasty, and I don’t normally like blue cheese.  The creaminess and richness of the tart was balanced perfectly by the crispness and freshness of the garnish.

Roast Pork Loin with Sweet Pepper sauce — The pork was tender, moist, and delicous, but was really just there as a vehicle for the Sweet Pepper sauce, which was amazing.  We started with bell peppers, which were simmered down until they were just sugar.  The peppers were then pureed, and we added salt, vinegar, thyme, and butter until the sauce was perfect.  We tasted the sauce as each ingredient was integrated, and it was amazing to see the flavor change with each addition.

Gratin of Potato with Persillade — This was less a gratin and more a giant potato cake, but still very tasty.  The potatoes were cooked in duck fat, which I now need to procure, and were cooked in a giant skillet.  The cake was flipped over twice by the skillful hands of the Chef.  I want to attempt it at home, but I’m worried the potatoes will end up all over the floor…

Cherry Clafoutis — A traditional French dessert that echoed the custard construct from the first course, the tart was sweet and very springlike.  The cherries are baked whole in the tart, with their pits.  Apparently, in France, unlike in the States, they do not warn you of this fact, because everyone knows that cherries have pits.

Con gusto,

Amie

But I’m about to start taking culinary technique classes here in Portland, at the Chefs Studio, and I want to share the experience as I go through it.  I think it might be an interesting one.  I’ll probably share other food-related thoughts as they arise, as well.

To start off with something delicious, this is the recipe for my favorite spring meal, Fresh Pasta with Morel Cream Sauce.  It actually might be my favorite meal of the whole year.  When the winter rain is coming to an end and the farmers markets are starting up again here, I start to anticipate morel mushroom season.  The mushrooms are pricey, for sure, but the rich, earthy flavor is one of my favorites, and is always worth it.  The pasta dish goes particularly well with a bunch of fresh asparagus, tossed with olive oil and sea salt, and roasted in the oven at 350 degrees for about 15-20 minutes.

Pasta with Morel Cream Sauce

2 tbsp unsalted butter       

2 tbsp olive oil

1/2 cup shallots, chopped into small dice (3-4 medium sized shallots should be enough)

2 cloves garlic, minced

4 ounces fresh morel mushrooms (or more if you can afford it), chopped*

1 cup heavy cream (or a mixure of cream and half-and-half, or just half-and-half)

1/2 cup grated Parmiggiano Reggiano or Pecorino Romano cheese, plus more for garnish

2 tbsp chopped fresh Italian parsley

sea salt

freshly ground pepper

1 lb fresh pasta, preferably fettucine-width or wider**

1. Start by putting a large pot of well-salted water on to boil.  (The water should taste salty to you.  This will help the pasta enhance the flavor of the sauce.)

2. Preheat a large (12-inch), nonstick stillet over medium heat.  Add the butter and olive oil, and let the butter melt.  Once the butter is melted and the pan is hot, add the shallots, and a pinch of sea salt.  Cook, stirring occasionally, about 5 minutes, or until the shallots are softened and translucent.  If it seems like the pan is too hot and the shallots are starting to brown, turn the heat down a bit.  Then add the garlic to the pan, and cook for about a minute.

3.  Add the chopped morels to the pan, stir a bit so they are spread out in the pan, add a pinch or two of salt, turn down the heat a bit, and let cook.  The mushrooms will start to release their moisture and should smell pretty tasty.  Stir occasionally, and let the mushrooms cook until they are nice and soft, about 5-7 minutes.  Feel free to taste, and if the mushrooms are still a bit tough, let them cook a little longer. 

4.  Once the mushrooms are soft, turn the heat down to medium-low (or even a bit lower), and add the cream to the pan and stir to mix everything up well.  Add the grated cheese and stir again.  The heat should be pretty low at this point, to prevent the cream from starting to boil.  It’s okay if it starts to bubble a bit, that’s actually good so the sauce will thicken, but you don’t want it to boil.  Add the chopped parsley.  Taste the sauce, and if needed, add some more salt and a bit of freshly ground pepper.  Let the sauce stay over low heat.

5.  By now the water should be boiling.  Add the pasta and stir to submerge in the water.  The fresh pasta should cook pretty quickly, so give it a minute or 90 seconds, then pull out a strand and test doneness.  If done, drain the pasta.  You can do this a couple ways.  One is to pour the pasta and cooking water into a colander in the sink.  This methods lets all the cooking water go down the drain, which isn’t so good, in case you need it to thin the sauce a bit.  Another method, if you have a nice pasta pot that comes with a colander insert, is to just pull the colander out of the water, and shake it a bit.  The third method, for those of us without nice colander inserts, is to use tongs or a pasta spoon to (quickly) remove all the pasta from the cooking water.  However you decide to get your pasta out of the water, add it to the skillet with the sauce, and toss everything together.  (Carefully.  This is the part where I often spill pasta all over the stove.)  If necessary, add a bit of cooking water to thin the sauce and mix everything together.

6.  Dish out onto plates, garnish with some more grated cheese, and serve hot with roasted asparagus, or your vegetable of choice.

*About morels: they grow in dirt, and as such tend to be quite dirty and gritty upon purchase.  The best way, I think, to wash them, is to submerge them in a bowl of cold water and swish them around a bit, to get the grit out of all the little crevices.  Then shake the water off, and chop them up.  This recipe can also be made with several other types of mushrooms: porcini, portabella, even shitake and cremini.  But morels are my favorite.

**The recipe would work fine with dried pasta, but it does take a little longer to cook, so take that into consideration.  Also, fresh pasta tends to be a bit tastier.

Thanks for reading, and I’ll be back soon to tell about my first cooking class…