Saturday, November 26, 2011
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Beet Dip
This beet dip is taken from Madhur Jaffrey's World Vegetarian, where it is called Pantzarosalata II, or Pureed Beet Salad (in Greek). I usually change it in some/several ways, but her original recipe is tasty, so I'll write it here.
- 1 good sized beet (about 6 oz) or two smaller ones
- 4 T chopped walnuts
- 1 slice stale white bread, or you could use a small boiled potato
- 1 clove garlic, coarsely chopped
- 6 T olive oil
- 2 T red wine vinegar
- 1/2 t salt, or to taste
Boil the beet in its skin until soft, about 40 minutes. Drain, peel, and let cool. Chop coarsely. Throw everything in a food processor and blend until smooth.
That's what Madhur says to do. I've done all that and almost none of it. Sometimes I don't have bread- it is just fine left out, although it has a more "vegetable" texture instead of a starchier one. I've never used a potato. I've also left the walnuts out, but they make it really good. I've added cumin and cilantro, lemon juice instead of vinegar, parsley and chives. I'm pretty sure I used a touch of tahini once instead of walnuts, with good results.... Just play around and see what happens. Serve with a nice crust bread or handmade crackers by Ashley.
Labels:
dips and spreads
Monday, November 14, 2011
Late Autumn at Alezxanna Farm
November 12th 2011
To Start
Sequatchie Cove Lamb Liver Pâté
With River Ridge Farm chicken livers and Link 41 bacon
William’s Island Farm Beet Pâté
With no livers at’all
Served with Sequatchie Cove’s Cumberland cheese, Ashley’s handmade rosemary crackers, and Pocket Farm hakuri turnips
Focaccia
With Circle S Farm baby squash, Crabtree roasted green peppers, and Sonrisa’s whole wheat flour
......
Sweet Potato Tortellini
With Sequatchie Cove shiitake; served in a warm lamb broth
The Feast
Sequatchie Cove Farm Beef Roast
Braised with shiitake mushrooms and Bill’s vino
Riverview Farm Grits
Layered with Cumberland cheese and Fall Creek Farm butternut squash, and Alexzanna herbs
Marinated Garbanzo Salad
With William’s Island Farm kale, Circle S cauliflower, and Crabtree kohlrabi
Signal Mtn Farm Lettuce Salad
With Crabtree pea shoots, Tant Hill asian green mix, and Pocket Farm arugula
To Finish
Fall Creek Farm Apple Torte
With Louisiana grown Asian persimmons and Sonrisa’s whole wheat flour
Featuring (and Many Thanks to)….
All beautiful and colorful wine and water glasses are made by Prentice Hicks and donated for use during this dinner. They can be taken home to drink from and brighten your every day. They are 2nds and specially priced. Please ask for prices
Cute and pretty tea cups that held your tortellini, a few plates, small bud vases, and some serving bowls are made by Anderson Bailey, and are also donated for use during this dinner. They are the elegant, mostly white pieces. They too can be taken home (or purchased for holiday gifts perhaps?). Please ask for prices.
Flowers are from my own yard and Alexzanna Farm, lovingly and beautifully arranged by Jennie Bartoletti
Of course this dinner would have been nothing but empty plates and stomachs without our dedicated and hardworking farmers and food artisans- William’s Island Farm, Sequatchie Cove Farm and Creamery, River Ridge Farm, Signal Mountain Farm, Crabtree Farm, Tant Hill Farm, Circle S Farm, Pocket Farm, Riverview Farm, Sale Creek Honey, and Fall Creek Farm were all extremely important in the making of this dinner. They are all at Main Street Farmer’s Market- along with many other farms producing equally delicious produce and meat.
Thanks to our gracious hosts Suzanna and Lawrence for opening the doors of their beautiful home and letting us enjoy it for the evening.
And last, but decidedly not least- Many thanks to all of you- the supporters of local farmers and craftspeople. You choose to make this community better and more alive every day. I look forward to seeing you all at the Main Street Farmers Market throughout the season-which never ends!
Labels:
underground dinner menu
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Comin' on Thanksgiving
The leaves have turned, they days are getting shorter, the shade is chilly but the sun still hot. The air is a crisp crunchy blue, no longer sodden with humidity. It's a season-change and we all know it, no matter how disconnected we are from the outdoors. Farmers react to it and respond. "First frost" means something out there in the fields and the peppers had better be in by the first freeze or they'll turn to mush. Even from our sheltered inside-lives we can look out the kitchen window and know that something's in the air. And shopping at the farmer's market is different too. Pumpkins, winter squash, greens, and sweet potatoes? Is something starting to look familiar? Is it beginning to feel a bit like Thanksgiving?
Of course, like most of our holidays, the true origin of Thanksgiving is all but lost. I won't even delve into this, because I think we all know what we've lost in the translation of the years. But maybe it did all start with an act of kindness, sharing, of generosity. For the sake of romance, let's just run with that. And Thanksgiving is something really special. It's a day of true American culture, one of the only. All countries who have gained independence from another have an Independence Day, and most of our other holidays are strange consumer-oriented versions of religious or pagan celebrations. But Thanksgiving, although similarly celebrated in cultures and communities over the world in the form of autumn/harvest-festivals, is all ours. And that is important for a society. America is a big place, with lots of different people from lots of different backgrounds. It's such a large country that it almost doesn't make sense; a child that lives in countries all over the world, raised by many parents and is now a hulking giant, unsure of what its beliefs are and what background to carry.
I realized the other day (again and again, for some reason I think about this a lot) how young our country is. We really want that deep-rooted culture, that sense of belonging and place. That's what Community is all about. When you read articles about "true southern food", about the barbecue joints and the fried chicken, it's not really about the pork or the chicken, it's about us. It gives us that comforting sense of belonging and familiarity. If it was an article truly about the pork or the chicken, it would be a story of terror and sadness- glimpses of the small hog farmer leaving the land because they can no longer afford to keep it, factory-farmed meat, dangerous slaughterhouses, trucks shipping animals across the country and back. But seriously, who wants to hear that? Let's talk about the sauce, and how it's different from their sauce, how our pork is smoked right, how ours is pulled right, how ours is ours. It's our culture and it's something to be proud of.
O and it is. Thanksgiving, our American holiday, is something to be proud of. It is the one day of the year where the whole point is family, friends, food, and seasonality. We eat traditional autumn foods- heavy and comforting, preparing ourselves for the dark cold road of Winter to come. We join together in the kitchen and give thanks for the folks around us, and the bounty of food that the earth has given us. And some of us keep an eye (or two) on the football score....whatever makes you happy.
The nice thing about our culture is that we have not really strayed so far from the beaten path. For the first couple hundred years of our young and fast-growing country, we really did have those things we are still proud of. The hogs were raised by neighbors, and the chicken fried by grandmothers. The templates are still there- the sweet potato casserole, the roasted turkey, the cranberry sauce (a little northern, but they're still seasonal). We don't have to purchase these things from the grocery store because they aren't exotic- they belong to us, and to the land around us. All we have to do is step in and reclaim it, buy food from our neighbors, support our community, and make our culture thrive. Then we'll really have something to give Thanks about.
Stop by the Main Street Farmer's Market next Wednesday the 16th, or the special Thanksgiving date Tuesday the 22nd and pick up your Thanksgiving meal. Look for seasonal recipe ideas on all the farmer's booths, and don't forget to try something new! (like turnips).
Of course, like most of our holidays, the true origin of Thanksgiving is all but lost. I won't even delve into this, because I think we all know what we've lost in the translation of the years. But maybe it did all start with an act of kindness, sharing, of generosity. For the sake of romance, let's just run with that. And Thanksgiving is something really special. It's a day of true American culture, one of the only. All countries who have gained independence from another have an Independence Day, and most of our other holidays are strange consumer-oriented versions of religious or pagan celebrations. But Thanksgiving, although similarly celebrated in cultures and communities over the world in the form of autumn/harvest-festivals, is all ours. And that is important for a society. America is a big place, with lots of different people from lots of different backgrounds. It's such a large country that it almost doesn't make sense; a child that lives in countries all over the world, raised by many parents and is now a hulking giant, unsure of what its beliefs are and what background to carry.
I realized the other day (again and again, for some reason I think about this a lot) how young our country is. We really want that deep-rooted culture, that sense of belonging and place. That's what Community is all about. When you read articles about "true southern food", about the barbecue joints and the fried chicken, it's not really about the pork or the chicken, it's about us. It gives us that comforting sense of belonging and familiarity. If it was an article truly about the pork or the chicken, it would be a story of terror and sadness- glimpses of the small hog farmer leaving the land because they can no longer afford to keep it, factory-farmed meat, dangerous slaughterhouses, trucks shipping animals across the country and back. But seriously, who wants to hear that? Let's talk about the sauce, and how it's different from their sauce, how our pork is smoked right, how ours is pulled right, how ours is ours. It's our culture and it's something to be proud of.
O and it is. Thanksgiving, our American holiday, is something to be proud of. It is the one day of the year where the whole point is family, friends, food, and seasonality. We eat traditional autumn foods- heavy and comforting, preparing ourselves for the dark cold road of Winter to come. We join together in the kitchen and give thanks for the folks around us, and the bounty of food that the earth has given us. And some of us keep an eye (or two) on the football score....whatever makes you happy.
The nice thing about our culture is that we have not really strayed so far from the beaten path. For the first couple hundred years of our young and fast-growing country, we really did have those things we are still proud of. The hogs were raised by neighbors, and the chicken fried by grandmothers. The templates are still there- the sweet potato casserole, the roasted turkey, the cranberry sauce (a little northern, but they're still seasonal). We don't have to purchase these things from the grocery store because they aren't exotic- they belong to us, and to the land around us. All we have to do is step in and reclaim it, buy food from our neighbors, support our community, and make our culture thrive. Then we'll really have something to give Thanks about.
Stop by the Main Street Farmer's Market next Wednesday the 16th, or the special Thanksgiving date Tuesday the 22nd and pick up your Thanksgiving meal. Look for seasonal recipe ideas on all the farmer's booths, and don't forget to try something new! (like turnips).
Labels:
why we "eat local"
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Coffee Rubbed Lamb Ribs and Butternut Soup
I've said it before, but I'm gonna say it again. It's not me, it's the lamb. I promise. If you think you don't like lamb, it's because you've never had this lamb. Meaning, katahdin lamb grassfed out in the Sequatchie Cove. It's just so different than the "other stuff"-whatever you've had before that you think you don't like. It's mild, it's tender, it was raised correctly under the sunshine with love, it wasn't shipped from all the way around the world (not that there's anything wrong with New Zealand as a place, it's just an awfully long way to ship something that is also raised almost in your back yard). And best of all, it is literally almost impossible to mess up. I don't know what it is, but I have yet to ruin any lamb dish. You could burn it, but I bet it would still be good underneath. It stays tender and succulent no matter what- even if you forget and overcook it. Try it. It will change your life. O, and PS, they aren't itty bitty and cute when you eat them- they look like sheep. Which makes us all feel better somehow.
Ribs with the Rub
I pretty much took this directly from Barbecue! Bible by Steven Raichlen, plus or minus a few things (cardamom). It was meant for a brisket in the book, but works on lamb just fine. I bet it would work on about anything.
- 1/2 cup finely ground good coffee- may I suggest anything from Velo?
- 1/2 cup (but I'd use a tad bit less next time) kosher or sea salt
- 1/4 cup brown sugar
- 1/4 cup Hungarian paprika
- 2 T ground ginger
- 1/3 cup chopped garlic
This should be about 2 cups- enough for 6-8 pounds of meat. Rub this (the recipe makes it "wet" by including oil, but you don't need this on a fatty meat) all over the ribs, fold them up in a baking dish and set them in the refrigerator from a few hours to as long as overnight.
Preheat the oven to very low- around 275 or 300 degrees F. Cover the ribs tightly with aluminum foil. I had so many ribs that they were all stacked on top of each other in the dish. This turned out to be fine. Place them in a single layer if you desire, unrolled. If not, just unroll them and stack them on top pf each other. Cook til the ribs are done and tender and pulling away from the bones at the ends- about 2-3 hours, depending on the size and how hot the oven is. Take the ribs out of the pan (they should be sitting in a nice fatty paprika colored liquid), put them on a platter and clean your baking dish. Place the ribs back in the clean dish and pour a touch of white wine and tomato juice on top. You can let these cool and put them in the fridge now until you are ready to eat, and reheat them later OR heat the oven to 350 degrees and cook them, uncovered, til slightly more crispy- about 25 or 30 minutes. Slice into portions of about 3 ribs and serve warm. If you have chilled them, let ribs come to room temp before reheating.
Butternut Soup
For about four-six people.
- 1 medium butternut squash- halved
- 1 t cinnamon
- 1 t nutmeg
- 1/2 t garam masala
- 1 T oil, butter, lard
- 1 potato, washed and cubed
- 4 garlic cloves, finely chopped
- 1 t minced chile, or 1/2 t dried cayenne
- 2 T finely chopped fresh ginger root
- 2 lime leaves, or 1 stalk lemongrass
- 4 cups chicken or veggie broth, or just water
- Salt to taste
Bake the butternut, cut side down, on a pan with a small amount of water at 350, til the thickest part is soft when poked (about 45 minutes, maybe less). Let cool just a smidge, if you'd like. Then scoop out the flesh and put it in a bowl- compost the skin. Stir in the cinnamon, nutmeg, masala, and a touch of salt into the squash and let sit while you prepare the rest.
Heat the oil in a heavy soup pot til warm, then throw in the garlic, ginger, and hot pepper, followed by the potato. Add a touch of salt and saute til fragrant. Add the broth and cook til the potatoes are done- about 15 minutes. Let cool slightly, then blend briefly til smooth.
This is the way I do it, so I don't have to juggle between the blender and pots and bowls: I blend the liquid with whatever else goes in the soup, then I blend the squash separately til smooth, then I dump it all together and stir to combine.
When everything is smooth and combined, add the lemongrass or lime leaves, taste for salt and add as needed (but remember the leaves will help add depth as it cooks, so don't over salt it at this point). Simmer for about 30 minutes more. Or, better yet, simmer about 15 minutes, let cool, refrigerate, and reheat and eat it the next day (soup's always better the next day).
Serve warm.
Labels:
lamb,
soup for most seasons
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