f o o d p r i n t s t y l e

gorgeous words

2010-04-20T00:08:00.000-07:00

Degrees in English and the Culinary Arts (and the requisite experience following each) made choosing a career as a food writer a natural one. I am a regular contributor to Edible Portland and culinate.com. My writing has also been featured in the Oregonian FoodDay section, Imbibe magazine, on foodell.com, and in several books including The Grand Central Baking Book.

Recent writing samples:

It's Perky! It's Peppery! It's Parsley!
Edible Portland, Winter 2012

Succulent Figs:
The World's First Cultivated Fruit
Edible Portland, Fall 2011

Tangy Tomatillos:
These Little Lanterns Shine Bright
Edible Portland, Summer 2011

Nettles: Bite Back
Edible Portland, Spring 2011

Cristom Vineyard
A 32-page booklet that tells the Cristom story

delicious images

2010-04-20T00:01:00.000-07:00

Behind every mouthwatering image of food is a stylist who has considered, planned, created and perfected it for the camera. As a stylist, my assignments have included preparing food and drink for print media (magazines, newspapers), cookbooks and advertising.

For me, food styling is a career that offers creative challenges, variety and the joyful opportunity to create and then play with my food.

FOOD Styling Portfolio

BEVERAGE Styling Portfolio

Partial Client List

American Egg Board

Burgerville
Carman Ranch

Cristom Vineyard

Imbibe Magazine

Kobe Beef America

New Seasons Markets
Oregon Convention Center
Partners Crackers
Patton Valley Vineyard
Pear Bureau Northwest
Starbucks

Tazo Tea

Ten Speed Press
US Potato Board

Western Family Foods

Zupan's Markets

Pacific Prize: Halibut

2010-03-04T10:47:00.000-08:00

Published Spring, 2010 Edible Portland

Eagerly anticipated signs of spring--like warmer temps and blue skies--are often slow to arrive in the Pacific Northwest, but we see edible indicators everywhere: chervil, asparagus, rhubarb, fiddleheads, morels. Unbeknownst to many, the season for Pacific halibut is also upon us. The firm, slightly sweet white-fleshed fish is widely available and at its peak between March and September, mostly supplied by Alaska's glacial waters.

Fewer halibut swim off of Oregon's coast, but their journey and flavor are no less impressive. The opportunity to buy just-caught Oregon halibut, or reel one in yourself, arrives midsummer, during two to three 24-hour blitzes of regulated derby-style fishing, weather be damned. When the predetermined quota for our region--the coastal stretch from California to Washington--is met, the season closes. But in the Gulf of Alaska, where the highest concentration of Pacific halibut is found, there's fishing to be done now.

Read the rest of the article online

Chestnut Revival

2009-12-17T17:00:00.000-08:00

Published Winter, 2010
Edible Portland

One of my fondest memories of winter in New York City is the first time I warmed my hands with a small paper cone of chestnuts fresh from a sidewalk roaster around the corner from my apartment. With the heat slowing spreading through my wool mittens, I walked to meet friends and savored the nutty wood-smoke fragrance of a food I had never full appreciated.

Up to that point, I had been indifferent, at best, to chestnuts. For me, they were immortalized in the song about a roaring fire on a cold, frosty day and in a story about a college roommate of my mom's, who had a hot one suddenly pop when she put it in her mouth.

Once a plentiful and inexpensive food that nourished many, chestnuts have gone the way of the lobster, becoming a delicacy for the few. They date back to prehistoric times--probably one of the first foods eaten by man. The Ancient Greeks and Romans living in the mountainous areas of the Mediterranean, where the cereal crops failed to thrive, depended on chestnuts. Records substantiate that a preponderance of people lived on little else during the 16th century, and an agronomist describing Tuscany in the 19th century observed, "the fruit of the chestnut tree is practically the sole subsistence of our Highlanders."
Read the rest of the article online

Home from the range

2009-09-08T13:57:00.000-07:00

Buying artisan meat straight from the ranch can be smart, but first you'll need to plan, shop--and clear some freezer space

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

ELLEN JACKSON

The Oregonian

Photo by Anna M. Campbell, The Oregonian

Many people are eating local produce these days, either straight from their own gardens, from the farmers market or directly from the farmers themselves. The fruits and vegetables are at their glorious peak of ripeness, and you can enjoy more variety than what you generally see at the grocery store, including interesting types of heirlooms that are bred for flavor, not convenience.
But there's no need to limit this local sourcing to produce, because you can do the same with meat. A growing number of producers are selling directly to consumers, so you can enjoy beef, pork and lamb that's locally and sustainably raised -- and not much more expensive than conventional meat.

Recipe included with story: Chile-braised Short Ribs, New York Strip Steaks With Salsa Criolla, Spicy Beef Handpies, Spicy Beef Handpie Filling

That's because you're buying meat in bulk. Everything from burger meat and short ribs to premium cuts such as New York and rib-eye steaks rings in at the same price, generally between $5 and $6 a pound. So, while your per-pound price for ground meat is higher than grocery store prices, the roasts and chops are cheaper.

Depending on which producer you choose, you also can ask how the animal was fed, raised and slaughtered, and have a say in how it is cut and packaged. One caveat: Most small to mid-size ranches are not processing their bulk meat at a USDA-inspected plant, unless by special request. So it's up to the buyer to get assurances about safe meat-handling practices.

But having a variety of meat cuts in your freezer is like money in the culinary bank. If you like to braise, the chuck and arm roasts from the front of the animal will keep you well-fed all winter long. The round and sirloin, lean muscles from the rear of the animal, can be left as roasts, cut into steaks or cubed for stew meat.

The only catch is that you have to buy at least a quarter animal -- and when we're talking steer, that's a lot of meat -- about 90 pounds for a quarter of a 1,000- to 1,200-pound animal.

Figuring out how to store and cook a box full of tomatoes, eggplant and corn from a community supported agriculture subscription is one thing; doing the same with a quarter steer is another. But with some understanding and preparation, it's completely doable with less effort than making your weekly pick-ups from your CSA.

Do your research
Actually, buying beef directly from the producer offers many of the best features of a CSA, but with more control. The first thing you want to do is research your options before signing up. Ask around, get recommendations and gather as much information as you can about the rancher's philosophy and growing practices. Talk to the ranchers or read their Web sites. Sample the meat from a producer you're considering, either by buying a steak from the butcher or farmers market and cooking it, or by tasting that producer's meat in a restaurant. If you can't taste first, ask for a reference.

Next, figure out whether you want to do this alone -- a whole pig or lamb might be reasonable for a large family, but for beef, it really makes sense to form a "steer-pool" with friends, neighbors or relatives who'd like to share.

Once you've decided to commit, you reserve your animal like a vegetable share, securing your purchase with a deposit. Unlike a produce share, however, you know about how much you're getting and it's an easy, one-time pick-up of wrapped, labeled and frozen cuts of meat. There's no scramble to use up the delivery before it wilts in the crisper drawer, and you have a say in what you receive.

Kevin Silveira of Valley Meat Service butchers to customer's specifications.

Photo by Anna M. Campbell, The Oregonian

Choose cutting option
When it comes time to butcher the animal, customers can often choose from a menu of several cutting options geared to different cooking methods and preferences. How thick do you like your steaks? Overcooking, which is common mistake with delicate grass-fed beef, can be avoided with steaks between 1 inch and 1 1/4 inches thick. How many per package? Do you want the ground beef in 1- or 2-pound packages? Some processors will offer a choice of paper wrapping or cryovac, a method of vacuum sealing that uses thick plastic (see Test Kitchen). When properly sealed, freezing is nature's best preservative for meat products. The increased protection and storage time cryovac offers is well worth the few extra cents a pound that it may cost.

If you're ready to take the plunge, start with the accompanying stories on what cuts of meat to expect from a beef share, the different breeds to consider and how much freezer space you'll need. Then, use our list of steer-share resources and start shopping.

Ellen Jackson is a Portland chef, food stylist and food writer.

Just how much meat is that?
A typical quarter steer (or 25 percent of a 1,000- to 1,200-pound animal) should yield about 90 pounds of meat, enough for 50 to 60 meals a year for a family of four, or one meal of beef a week. For best quality, buy only what you can eat in a year.

You can find a friend or two and split a quarter share, but remember that there's only two flanks (and two flank steaks) on any one steer. It's up to you to divvy up the prime cuts, and your quarter portion might not include any of the trendy cuts you're fond of from the meat counter, like hanger steak.

Here's what a typical quarter share of a steer might look like:
Steaks (1 inch thick)
5 T-bone steaks
3 sirloin steaks
5 rib-eye steaks
3 round steaks
1 flank steak or tri-tip roast
Roasts (3 pounds each)
1 sirloin tip roast
2 arm roasts
1 rump roast
4 chuck roasts
1 brisket
Other cuts
Two 1 1/2-pound packages of short ribs
At least two 1 1/2-pound packages of soup bones (extra are often available)
40 to 50 pounds ground beef
Organ meat available from some processors

Do I need another freezer for the meat?
A quarter steer sounds like a lot, but with some organization, you can fit the beef into a chest freezer or the freezer compartment of that extra fridge in the garage. Even just reducing the amount of space you use for ice cream and orange juice in your main freezer can do the trick.

The roughly 90 pounds of meat from a quarter steer will take up around 4.5 cubic feet, enough to squeeze into a 6-cubic-foot top freezer of the average home fridge, as long as it's fairly empty.

Larger models, side-by-side configurations and those with a lower drawer freezer often boast as much as 9 cubic feet of freezer space.

For $200, you can get a chest freezer with 7.2 cubic feet of space that costs about $25 a year to run. An upright freezer that's roughly twice the size is also twice the price and costs slightly more to operate annually.

Whichever route you take, be sure your freezer can maintain a temperature of zero degrees or colder, in order to preserve meat quality over the months. And if you're in an area of frequent power outages, get a generator or take your chances.

Grass-fed beef producers such as Cory Carman (right) and her sister Kate Carman
deliver their meat directly to customers much like Community Supported Agricutlre farmers do.

Photo by Bruce Ely, The Oregonian

What to look for and what to ask
The breed of an animal and the manner in which it is raised affect the characteristic flavor and texture of its meat. The best way to understand what you're getting is to ask questions about the following:

Breed: Americans are accustomed to the flavor and size of British breeds such as Angus, Hereford and Shorthorn. Many producers raise one of these breeds. Piedmontese, Charlois and Simmental are continental European breeds that are somewhat larger in size with leaner meat. Corriente and Longhorn belong to a third category of animals sometimes called "landrace," whose roots can be traced back to the first Spanish cattle brought to North America. They are among the smallest breeds, sometimes 30 percent smaller than a British animal.

Age: The age of the animal combined with the breed will tell a great deal about the characteristic of its meat. Younger animals tend to be leaner. British breeds raised on pasture between 9 and 14 months will have veal-like qualities, whereas an 18- to 24-month-old animal will have more external fat and marbling. Continental cattle can take longer to mature on pasture because of their size, and Corriente can be 3 years old before they are fully mature.

Diet: Grass-fed beef eat only grass and herbaceous leafy plants -- never grain or grain byproducts -- and animals have continuous access to a pasture during the growing season.

A "finishing" diet refers to what the steer is fed in the final stage of growth before it is slaughtered. This stage is crucial because it is the time when the animal's fat layer and internal marbling develop. Most conventional cattle eat an all-grain diet through finishing; "naturally raised" cattle are raised on pasture and eat grain during finishing; while 100 percent grass-fed beef is finished on pasture. If you want grass-fed beef, ask if the animals spend their entire lives on pasture.

Aging: Meat available through retailers is generally wet-aged, a process where large pieces of meat are vacuum-sealed immediately after they are cut to prevent moisture loss. Dry-aging is an old-fashioned method; it refers to the time from when the animal is slaughtered to when the carcass is broken down into cuts. Beef purchased from farmers or ranchers who use small meat-processing plants is typically dry-aged by hanging the carcass in a walk-in cooler. Most research shows that hanging beef between 10 and 14 days is optimal for improving tenderness, increasing the "beefy" flavor and minimizing weight loss from evaporation.

Northwest resources

www.localharvest.org: Sources of pasture-raised beef by the whole, half or quarter
www.oliverranch.com: The lowdown on artisan beef. Learn how flavor and texture are influenced by breed, growing region and diet; find top-notch natural or organic ranchers around the country.

Some local producers

Abundant Life Farm
Dallas; 503-623-6378

Afton Field Farm
Corvallis; 541-738-0127

Carman Ranch
Wallowa; 541-263-0812

Deck Family Farm
Junction City; 541-998-4697

Full of Life Farm
St. Paul; 925-876-6720

Harmony J.A.C.K. Farms
Scio; 503-769-2057

Highland Oak Farm
Scio; 503-551-2680

Kookoolan Farms
Yamhill; 503-730-7535

Son Up to Son Down Ranch
(meat CSA: monthly packages of pastured beef and pork)
Banks; 503-616-1395

Winter Green Farm
Noti; 541-935-1920

6 Ranch
Enterprise; 541-426-3827
www.6ranch.com

Thundering Hooves
Walla Walla; 866-350-9400

-- Ellen Jackson

Mythic Quince

2009-09-06T13:32:00.001-07:00

Published Fall, 2009
Edible Portland

From Classical authors like Homer, Virgil and Plutarch to literary classics like Edward Lear's "The Owl and the Pussycat," writers have been waxing poetic about quinces since ancient times. Their stature is--quite literally--mythic.

Once associated with Venus, the goddess of love, quinces were typecast forever as symbols of fertility and love, tossed into Greco-Roman bridal chariots and baked into cakes flavored with sesame and honey for wedding feasts in the Middle Ages.

It's tough to dismiss the possibility that this fruit of love was the same forbidden fruit that famously tempted Eve. Many food historians think so, anyway. According to the story, the Garden of Eden was in Mesopotamia, a broad geographical area between the Euphrates and Tigris Rivers that is recognized as native quince territory. Since apples originated in Central Asia, it's doubtful that Eve reached up to pick one from overhead. Besides, it's easy to imagine why she would have been enticed by a quince and its celestial bouquet.

Click on the image to enlarge or continue reading on page 10

Sweet Tears

2009-06-09T10:50:00.000-07:00

Published Summer, 2009
Edible Portland

Of all the edible bulbs in the lily family, more than 500 are onions. And of that 500, a mere ten deserve a place on our plates. The rest are too bitter--or too pretty as flowers--to eat. Other palatable memers of the extensive allium species--garlic, shallots, ramps, leeks and chives--may be more refined, but it is difficult to imagine an ingredient as deliciously versatile as the humble onion. So astringent in its raw form as to cause crocodile tears to well up in the cook's eyes, when slowly roasted or sauteed, an onion couldn't be sweeter.

Cultivated since prehistoric times, onions are propbably native to central or western Asia. Ancient Egyptians, Babylonians, Romans and Greeks believed oinons had curative powers and their use during that time is well documented. Along with chickpeas and garlic, onions made up the bulk of the food rations that fortified 100,000 laborers who built the Great Pyramid of Cheops around 2900 B.C. In the Middle Ages, onions were as valuable as gold and became a symbol of eternity, owing to their spherical layers within layers. Later buildings were crowned with onion-shaped towers--now irrevocably linked to Russian and Eastern European architecture--in hopes that they would last forever.

Click on the image to enlarge or continue reading on page 10

Liquid Sweetness

2009-05-07T13:26:00.000-07:00

Use these pourable treats in baking

Published May 4, 2009
Culinate.com

Granulated cane sugar might be the favored sweetener in most of our kitchens, but sometimes a liquid sweetener is a better choice, offering moistness, variety of flavor, and even vitamins and minerals.

When choosing a liquid sweetener to replace the sugar in a recipe, remember that certain sweeteners require up to three times the amount of sugar called for in a recipe, while others require less.

1. Honey. Produced by honey bees from the nectar of flowers, honey is the thick liquid extracted from honeycomb. More than 300 kinds of honey are available in the U.S. alone, each named after the principal source of nectar: alfalfa, clover, orange blossom, buckwheat, and the like. Honey ranges in color from almost white to dark brown; usually, the lighter the color, the milder the flavor.

Honey is about 25 percent sweeter than conventional sugar, and most guidelines for baking with it reduce the amount of liquid in a recipe by 1/4 cup for each cup of honey used. Sometimes an additional 1/2 teaspoon of baking soda is recommended to balance the acidity of the honey.

Because honey causes baked goods to caramelize more quickly, reduce the oven temperature by 25 degrees when baking with it to prevent overbrowning.

Recipes: Ice Cream Sandwiches with Honey-Oatmeal Raisin Cookies, Anything Goes Oatmeal Bread, and Granola Bars

2. Maple syrup. Not to be confused with pancake syrup — the cheaper and commonly used substitute based on corn syrup — pure maple syrup is made by boiling the sap of sugar-maple and black-maple trees until nearly all of the water has evaporated. Most authentic maple syrup comes from the northeastern U.S. and Canada.

Maple syrup is graded by measuring its flavor and color, both of which vary depending on the temperature at which the sap was boiled and for how long. Fancy or Grade AA syrup has a very mild flavor and is light amber in color. Grade A has a mellow flavor and medium amber color. For baking and pancakes alike, I favor the dark amber Grade B syrup, which has a hearty maple flavor. Grade C syrup is almost molasses-like both in flavor and appearance.

In baking, substitute 3/4 cup of maple syrup for every 1 cup sugar and decrease the amount of liquid in the recipe by 3 tablespoons per cup of sugar.

Recipes: Spelt Pancakes and Sour Cream Coffee Cake

3. Agave nectar is great for baking. Natural, organic, and kosher, the agave plant grows wild in Jalisco, Mexico. Although agave nectar is made from more than one variety of the plant, the Blue Weber is the primary source, best known for providing nectar of another sort: tequila.

Less viscous than honey and more stable (because it’s less prone to crystallization), agave nectar is appreciated for its excellent moisture-retaining properties, which make it an especially good addition to breads and baked goods with light, fluffy textures. It also keeps baked items fresh longer.

The two rules of thumb when substituting agave nectar in a recipe is to reduce the other liquids by a third and to use a quarter less agave nectar to achieve the same level of sweetness — for example, 3/4 cup agave nectar for each cup of sugar.

Recipes: House Margarita and Chocolate Peanut Butter Mousse–Filled Cupcakes

4. Brown-rice syrup. Naturally processed from sprouted brown rice, brown-rice syrup contains complex sugars that are absorbed more slowly into the bloodstream than ordinary table sugar. Its mildly sweet butterscotch flavor generally produces baked goods that are crisper than those made with cane sugar. Brown-rice syrup is also good stirred into coffee or poured over pancakes and waffles.

Though it can’t be substituted directly for cane sugar in most recipes, you can use brown-rice syrup in place of other liquid sweeteners like corn syrup and simple syrup, or maple syrup and honey (3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons is equal to 1 cup), barley-malt syrup (3/4 cup for each cup), or molasses (1/2 cup for each cup).

Recipe: Peanut Butter Popcorn

5. Barley-malt syrup. A thick, dark, slow-digesting sweetener made from sprouted barley, barley-malt syrup is full of protein, vitamins, and minerals. Its rich mellow flavor tastes a bit like molasses, although for many, its closest association is with beer. In fact, to say that barley malt is to beer as grapes are to wine would be absolutely accurate.

About half as sweet as refined sugar or honey, barley malt is terrific in bread; I use it in my Multigrain No-Knead Bread recipe, for example. It’s also the source of the malt used in malted milkshakes and in that favorite movie treat, Whoppers.

In a pinch, barley-malt syrup can fill in for molasses (use 1 cup barley-malt syrup for every 2/3 cup molasses), or brown-rice syrup or maple syrup (use 1 cup barley-malt syrup for every 1 1/3 cups brown-rice syrup or maple syrup).

Recipe: Multigrain No-Knead Bread

6. Molasses. Ordinary granulated sugar is made by squeezing the juice from sugar cane or sugar beets, boiling it down to a syrupy mixture, and extracting the sugar crystals from it. Molasses is the thick, dark residue left behind. Its sweet, distinctive flavor is traditional in gingerbread, baked beans, and rye bread.

Light molasses (also known as sweet, mild, and Barbados) is taken from the first boiling. Less sweet and more flavorful, dark molasses (sometimes called full or full-flavored) is the syrup that remains after the juices are boiled a second time; to me, it hints pleasantly at black licorice. Finally, blackstrap molasses is the syrup left over from the third and last boiling. Too strong and bitter for most recipes, blackstrap molasses is more popular for its alleged health benefits (it’s a good source of iron and calcium).

The method used to process molasses determines whether it is labeled “sulphured” or “unsulphured,” which has a lighter, cleaner sugar-cane flavor.

Recipes: All I Want For Christmas Gingerbread and Ginger Cookies

7. Golden syrup. Also know as cane syrup or light treacle, golden syrup is made by evaporating sugar-cane juice until it is thick, syrupy, and golden-colored. Its consistency is very much like corn syrup, but golden syrup has a rich, toasty flavor with noticeably more depth and dimension than its industrially engineered, low-cost cousin. The amber syrup is especially beloved by British, Caribbean, and Creole cooks, who use Lyle’s Golden Syrup (in Britain) and Steen’s (in the South).

Like the difference between mild and full-flavored molasses, light treacle (golden syrup) has fewer impurities and a milder flavor than the dark, less refined syrup from which it is derived. Black treacle is the British version of blackstrap molasses, and is also very bitter.

Recipe: Sticky Toffee Pudding

8. Simple syrup. Made by bringing a mixture of sugar and water to a boil and simmering it until the sugar dissolves, simple syrup is widely used in restaurant kitchens and bars. Pastry chefs use it to sweeten fresh fruit purées (think sauces and sorbets) and for brushing on cake layers to add extra moistness, while bartenders rely on simple syrup for mixing cocktails and concocting homemade liqueurs.

The thickness of simple syrup depends on the ratio of sugar to water used to make it; 1:1 is lightly syrupy and useful for a range of applications, including sweetening iced coffee, tea, and lemonade.

Add sliced fresh ginger root, bruised mint or lemon verbena leaves, or a vanilla bean that’s been split and scraped to your next batch of simple syrup to punch up the flavor of your sorbet or beverage of choice.

Recipes: Grapefruit Simple Syrup, Mint Simple Syrup, and Pumpkin Waffles with Muscovado Syrup

Former pastry chef Ellen Jackson is a food writer who lives in Portland, Oregon.

Voilà, Soufflé!

2009-03-25T11:01:00.000-07:00

Published Spring, 2009
Edible Portland

Every cook has a selection of "greatest hits" in his or her repertoire, along with the classics and golden oldies. More often than not, these are the recipes that have been passed down from one family member to another, generation after generation, reminders of childhood favorites, family celebrations and birthday dinner menus. Pretty standard fare, and not the first place you'd look for a soufflé recipe.

Besides, who ate soufflés growing up? My mom is an accomplished cook, and she's fed me plenty of classics over the years, but I don't recall a single soufflé. So, when I decided that my repertoire was incomplete without said classic, rather than call her, I reached for the red spine speckled with tiny gold fleur-de-lis that sits on my kitchen bookshelf: Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking. In moments like these, it's best to turn to a pro.

Click to enlarge

Early Arrival: The Radish

2009-03-25T10:05:00.000-07:00

Published Spring, 2009
Edible Portland

Until a few years ago, I hadn't given radishes much serious thought. My inner epicure scoffed when a radish rose garnish crossed my path and I dutifully ate the ones that came with my plate of tacos. I always enjoyed the interplay of the crisp texture and peppery flavor, as well as how the unexpected hot finish of a fresh radish works with a squeeze of lime to cut through the richness of the meat. But more often than not, their presence on a dish felt arbitrary, a surprise that failed to delight beyond a bit of color and crunch.

Then I became a gardener and caught on to the fact that radishes are an impatient grower's secret weapon for jump-starting the season. Radish seeds can be planted earlier than any others, providing the only scraps of color poking out of the dark, fertile earth of early srping in as few as three weeks. They're easy to grow, have a short season (you can move on to other crops in June, or sow a crop of later-maturing radish seeds) and don't take up much space. Whether you're gardening in a small city lot or a windown box, your radish crop can number in the dozens.

Click on the image to enlarge or continue reading on page 12

Update your pantry

2009-01-27T12:03:00.000-08:00

Published January 27, 2009
The Oregonian/Food Day

Photo by Beth Nakamura/The Oregonian

It's time to update your pantry in the same way you'd overhaul your closet. Give anything the heave-ho if:

a) it has gone out of fashion (it has passed the sell-by date)

b) it hasn't been worn (you haven't cooked with it) in the last six to 12 months

c) it has duplicates (fish sauce is cheap, but you don't need two bottles any more than you need two orange sweaters)

If we are what we eat, the contents of our pantries can be as telling about us as any FBI background check: A look inside offers a snapshot of our eating and spending habits, clues to what's working, what isn't and why. If you're searching for a start to the new year that can have some real effect, I recommend cleaning out and restocking your pantry, which in my opinion is the heart of the kitchen.

Recipes included with this story: Sesame Noodles; Yellow Dal; Brown Rice with Mustard Greens, Garlic and Ginger; Rice With Eggs and Cheese; Whole Wheat Pasta with Lentils, Greens and Carrots.

Be ruthless. Throw away small amounts of beans, flour or rice that won't amount to anything on their own. Be objective. How old is that jar of brandied cherries? Reconsider the tin of Maharaja curry powder your mom brought back from her 2006 trip to India. A pantry isn't a keepsake box. If it's faded, musty or you have no idea how to use it, it's taking up valuable space. Toss it (composting what you can, of course).

Wipe down shelves, wash and dry storage containers, then let the shopping begin. Provisioning a pantry can mean a few supersize grocery bills, but you'll save time and money in the long run. Begin with the basics, and spread out purchases of pricier ingredients like nuts, specialty oils and dried fruit.

The accompanying list reflects my pantry strategy, but just think of it as a blueprint. Your list may look different, depending on the cuisines that influence your cooking and the amount of space in your kitchen.

GRAINS AND PASTA

Most whole grains are available in bulk, where they're likely to be fresher and a fraction of the price of prepackaged. I've never taken that route with pasta, though I know you can. Keep as many grains on hand as you're able to accommodate; they last well and cost pennies.
Keep for: Six months (brown rice, bulgur, oats) to one year (white rice, couscous, cornmeal) or two years (pasta).
Store in: Resealable bags, glass jars or plastic containers with tightfitting lids.

Dried pasta: With several choices, you're halfway to dinner. I keep one long (spaghetti, linguine) and several shaped pastas (penne, fusilli, orecchiette) in regular and whole-wheat varieties. Barilla and DeCecco are good, inexpensive imported brands.

Rice: Give me brown, basmati or Arborio (for risotto), and I can pull together dinner. Choose two usual suspects, and make a point of experimenting with lesser-known types.

Couscous and bulgur: Both cook quickly and join leftover cooked vegetables or finely chopped fresh ones equally well. Good warm or cold, in salads.

Oatmeal: A stash of oats equals a hot breakfast, oatmeal cookies or streusel topping for fruit desserts, and gets you one step closer to meatloaf or granola.

Cornmeal: Great for polenta, corn bread and thickening soups, the ultimate simple breakfast served warm with butter and honey.

Also nice to have: Quinoa, barley, soba noodles, wild, red and black rice.

LEGUMES

They'll keep almost indefinitely, but the longer legumes sit, the less flavor they have and the longer they take to cook. Buy legumes in bulk, in 1- to 2-pound increments; they're easy to replenish frequently.
Keep for: Up to two years.
Store in: Resealable, clear containers that are easy to identify (can you tell the difference between Great Northern and navy?). I have a sizable collection of clear food storage containers with lids from Ikea that are perfect and a bargain.

Lentils: Fast and delicious warm or at room temperature, as a side dish, soup or salad. The tiny green French du Puy lentil is my favorite. Yellow lentils are common in Indian cooking and plentiful in my pantry, as are quick-cooking red lentils.

Split peas: The green variety is a perennial favorite for soup that's ready in under an hour; ham hock optional. Yellow split peas make a creamy dal (see recipe on FD3).

Dried beans: The difference in flavor and texture of beans you soak and cook yourself is noticeable. So is the savings.

NUTS AND DRIED FRUIT

Nuts and dried fruit are some of the more expensive items in your pantry, so acquire them slowly and buy small amounts in the bulk section to avoid an unusually large tab at the grocery store. Unsalted, shelled nuts and seeds should be stored in the refrigerator or freezer; the cold slows spoiling. (Rancid nuts smell stale and taste bitter or bland.) Ignore the 5-pound bag of walnuts on special if you can't use them within a month or don't have space to store them in the freezer.
Keep for: One year in the freezer. Pine nuts spoil quickly -- about one month in the refrigerator or six in the freezer.
Store in: Airtight containers or resealable bags.

Hazelnuts: If you stock just one nut, these get my vote. Add them, toasted, to salads and rice dishes, or use coarsely ground to encrust meat or fish. Walnuts are often called for in baking, but I think pecans work in the same places and taste better.

Also nice to have: Pine nuts, cashews, almonds, sunflower seeds.

Golden raisins: If I had to pick one dried fruit, this would be it. They're equally at home in sweet and savory preparations, as are currants and cherries.

Also nice to have: Apricots, cranberries, dates, figs.

OILS AND VINEGARS

Heat, light and air are the enemies of oil. Keep oil fresh by buying in small quantities, sealing tightly and storing in a cool dry place, ideally the refrigerator. (Some oils will congeal and turn cloudy in the fridge -- especially extra-virgin olive oil -- but it will return to its liquid state when warmed to room temperature.) Sesame and olive oils are more stable and can be kept in the cupboard.
Keep for: Six months (oil) to two years (vinegar).
Store in: Dark glass, porcelain or stainless steel. Oil tends to absorb the PVCs in plastic.

Extra-virgin olive oil: Get the best you can afford in an amount you'll use in four to six months. I like L'Estornell, a tasty, affordable olive oil from Spain. Colavita is a decent Italian olive oil that's widely available and easy on the wallet.

Oil with a high smoke point: Don't fry with olive oil; keep a bottle of canola or grapeseed oil for that. Combine either with olive oil in salad dressings, aioli and for general cooking purposes.

Nut oil: A little bottle of hazelnut or walnut oil goes a long way when added to canola oil for salad dressings. Drizzle on finished pasta dishes, meats or vegetables.

Sesame oil: Add small amounts to stir-fries and other Asian dishes.

Vinegar: Start with sherry, cider and white wine, plus rice vinegar if you cook with Asian-influenced flavors. Add balsamic and red wine vinegars next. Don't bother with champagne vinegar, it's basically the same as white wine vinegar.

SEASONINGS

Buy dried herbs and spices in bulk, in small quantities, and store them away from light and heat. Use your nose to judge freshness; if it isn't immediately identifiable, it's unlikely to add anything to your recipe.
Keep for: Six months (ground) to 18 months (whole).
Store in: Small glass jars or resealable bags. (Try Cost Plus for cheap spice jars with tightfitting lids.)

Spices: These are a matter of personal style and space. If they're fresh, most are worth having around. Those I use frequently include cumin, fennel, turmeric and smoky Spanish paprika (pimenton de la Vera). A pinch of red pepper flakes added during the cooking process goes a long way in spicing up a dish. Whole nutmeg, grated fresh, is essential for sweet or savory cooking, and cardamom, cinnamon and ground ginger round out the lot.

Black peppercorns: A different beast when freshly ground.

Kosher and fine sea salt: For cooking, a box of Diamond Crystal or Morton's coarse kosher salt won't set you back more than $3. Get some pourable, fine-grained salt for baking; avoid iodized.

Bragg's liquid aminos: This liquid protein concentrate made from soybeans has no added salt. Use it instead of soy sauce to boost the flavor of stir-fried meats and vegetables.

CANNED GOODS AND SHELF-STABLE ITEMS

Like most items in a pantry, these keep best in a cool, dark place. Refer to the expiration date on the label or can and watch out for dents or broken seals.

Whole plum tomatoes: Keep a few 28-ounce cans if you have space. I like Hunt's organic and Muir Glen, also organic. Countless meals are begun by dumping a can into a pot with onions and garlic sauteed in olive oil. Depending what else you add, you might end up with a braise or stew, minestrone, chili, or a sauce for pasta or pizza.

Good-quality chicken (or vegetable) broth: In a perfect world, my freezer would always contain chicken broth. Since my world isn't perfect yet, I have two 32-ounce cartons in the cupboard for soups, risottos, simmering meats and vegetables, and adding extra moisture and flavor to leftovers. Most brands offer an organic free-range option; I like Swanson and Imagine.

Canned beans: When you can't plan ahead, local brand Truitt Bros. beans are a boon. Available in black, kidney, pinto and garbanzo, they're certified sustainable and contain no preservatives.

Coconut milk: Diluted, the light version is a quick, tasty base for an Indian or Thai curry, rice and rice pudding.

Anchovies: Try adding one-half mashed fillet to a dressing or sauce that isn't quite there. Combined with other ingredients, anchovies mellow and open up, enhancing what was always there without giving themselves away. (Refrigerate leftovers.)

Fish sauce: Look for the label with three crabs on it. Used judiciously, it's a delicious accent.

Also nice to have: Dried porcini mushrooms add surprising depth to soups, stews and braises.

REFRIGERATOR BASICS

I'll begin by assuming that your refrigerator contains the obvious: milk, eggs and butter.

Lemons or limes: Salt and a squeeze of lemon juice (or another acid) are the ingredients I reach for first, to boost and balance flavors. The zest is good in the same places.

Plain yogurt: Thick and rich-tasting, Greek yogurt is great for garnishing soups and making raitas, dipping sauces and dressings.

Fresh herbs, spices: Parsley keeps at least a week and is the best way to add color and flavor to a dish in the dead of winter.

Fresh ginger is essential to many of the cuisines that influence my cooking.

Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese: A garnish that not only improves flavor but also dresses up everything from soup to hazelnuts and pears. Well-wrapped Parmigiano will last up to one year; save the rinds for making soup.

Peanut butter: Good straight from the jar, in sesame noodles, on celery and in a sandwich. You'll never find me without a jar of Adams 100% Natural.

Sambal oelek: You can use fresh chilies or red pepper flakes instead, but this Indonesian chile paste is easier to incorporate into uncooked and finished dishes.

Capers: Packed in brine or salt, capers are essential to Mediterranean dishes like pasta puttanesca and salad Nicoise. Good with lemony flavors, chicken or fish.

Dijon mustard: Add it to salad dressings and marinades; slather it on roasts.

The Bean Man

2009-01-19T12:19:00.000-08:00

Published Winter, 2008
Edible Portland

Usually "a hill of beans" is a folksy colloquialism for something of trifling value. Four years ago, a paltry handful of beans inspired Oregon Tilth co-founder Harry MacCormack to purse the ambitious goal of relocalization, or taking back what was once local and is no longer, but should be. The concept is particularly appropriate when applied to agriculture in the south Willamette Valley, where a wide variety of food crops was once produced but is now dominated by farms growing grass seed for the global market.

MacCormack has always been a local food advocate. During the 40 years that he's been farming in the southern Willamette Valley, he has promoted biologically sound and socially equitable agriculture in the state by pioneering sustainable farming techniques and helping to initiate the first organic farm certification program. Recently, he's been experimenting extensively in the field with a hodgepodge of grains, legumes and edible seed crops. Read the rest of the article online.

Last Fruit Standing: Persimmons

2009-01-19T11:52:00.000-08:00

Published Winter, 2008
Edible Portland

Photo by Kate Madden

Late autumn offers its share of haunting images, but few are as exotic as a persimmon tree set against the smoky-gray sky. Nearly invisible until the first frost, this shockingly bright fruit remains on the tree well into winter, after the leaves have fallen, much like Christmas tree ornaments dangling from bare branches. The ripened fruit clinging to withering limbs seems to hint at autumn's disinclination to give way to winter.

A mature American persimmon tree (Diospyros virginiana) can reach up to 60 feet and yield between 75 and 100 pounds of fruit annually. Though bountiful from Pennsylvania to Florida and west to Illinois, due to their fragile nature, American persimmons are not available commercially outside of the eastern and southern United States.

Click on the image to enlarge or continue reading on page 10.

One to Root for: Celeriac

2008-09-30T15:01:00.000-07:00

Published Fall, 2008
Edible Portland

At farmers’ markets everywhere this fall, vegetables of all shapes and sizes are coming together, like students meeting up for another academic year. New are introduced to old, and the popular brush elbows with the wallflowers. Rich purple eggplants, deep red tomatoes, and emerald green peppers—summer’s jocks and pretty girls—flaunt their fresh flavors and jewel tones, while autumn’s bullies and math geeks, a collection of hardier, less glamorous vegetables, compete for our attention with their forthright flavors and unapologetically frumpy appearance.

I'm talking about root vegetables, of course: turnips, rutabaga, parsnips and celeriac--the awkward kids who didn't blossom over the summer. Plagued by gnarled skin, riddled with knobs and warts, these vegetable brethren don't run with the popular crowd and are among those foodstuffs we find most difficult to embrace. They may require extra effort to tease out their individual charms (not to mention added growing days and cooking time), but once wooed, celeriac and its kin are downright endearing, not to mention delicious.

A member of the parsley family, celery is native to the Mediterranean region and Middle East. According to the Cambridge World History of Food, wild celery was one of the first vegetables to appear in recorded history; the writings of Confucius document its use in China before 500 B.C. Celeriac (the early Greeks called it selinon) is also mentioned in Homer’s Odyssey, circa 800 B.C., but it didn’t become an important vegetable until the Middle Ages. First recorded as a food plant in France, in 1623, it was commonly cultivated throughout Europe by the end of the century.

Often called celery root, celeriac should not be confused with Apium graveolens, var. dulce, the so-called “true” celery, whose fleshy green ribs and blanched hearts are enjoyed both cooked and raw, in everything from soup stocks to ants on a log. (It also produces the culinary seasoning celery seed.) “True” celery is among the top-ten-selling vegetables in the U.S., outperforming its cousin by 20 to 1.

I’d say that puts Apium graveolens, var. rapaceum, or celeriac, squarely in the “frog prince” category. Cultivated for its starch-storing root rather than the inedible bright green ribs that sprout from its crown, the exterior of the root is lined with dirt-filled crevices and dotted with dangling, hairy rootlets. Do not be dissuaded. Inside is a princely flesh, dense and creamy white, with loads of character and a bracing clean flavor that’s a cross between parsley and celery, only deeper, softer, and slightly sweet. Celeriac has a long pedigree in French salads (most notably céleri rémoulade, with its mustardy mayonnaise dressing) and in northern European countries and Russia, where it finds its way into soups, stuffings, and purées.

Readily available from late summer through the following spring, celeriac is particularly stellar between the colder months of November and April. The bulbous roots range in size from grapefruit to small cantaloupe, usually weighing about one pound, 25% of which is trimmed away. Choose one that is firm, with good heft—large but light means a spongy center. One pound should yield 2 to 4 modest servings, or about 2 cups chopped, plenty to add ample flavor to a soup, gratin or purée. Kept in a plastic bag in the refrigerator, it will last several weeks.

Celeriac yields stubbornly to the caress of a vegetable peeler. Instead, scrub it well and “peel” it with a sharp paring knife by taking a slice off the polar ends so that it stands on its own. Next, moving from top to bottom with broad strokes, cut down the side using a slight zig-zagging motion and angling the knife sharply at the top and bottom. Continue around the entire bulb until it’s peeled; then hold it in your palm to cut away any remaining blemishes. Keep the parings for stock.

Though it is somewhat expensive, celeriac’s affinity for grains, potatoes, and other root vegetables allows for stretching it in all manner of ways. Cut up a bulb and boil it with a potato or two. Mash with butter and cream and a drizzle of truffle oil for a decadent purée. Thinly julienne a few apples, a bulb of fennel, and some celery root. Toss them with watercress and walnut oil for an elegant salad. Slice, layer, and bake the root in a gratin, with mushrooms, parsley and thyme. Vary with potatoes for volume, and Gruyère cheese or cream for irresistibility. Joined with any one of these ingredients that highlight its nutty notes and subtle hints of lemon and licorice, celeriac joins its clique.

Finally the inelegant veggie once clumsily trying to find its way can confidently walk the halls.

Recipe for Potato-Leek Soup with Celeriac

One Chicken, Four Meals

2008-08-25T11:23:00.000-07:00

Published August 25, 2008
Culinate.com

Buy a good bird and reap the rewards

Here's the theory: Given three attributes for dinner — good, fast, and cheap — you can only choose two, because a trifecta is virtually impossible. “Fast” and “cheap” might mean take-out or the drive-through; good it isn’t. “Good” and “fast” might mean dinner at that local, seasonal pizzeria, where the food is delicious but not exactly cheap. And “cheap” and “good” together usually negate fast, because this combo is frequently the dinner you lovingly prepare at home, taking your time and using fresh ingredients.

With a whole chicken, however, you can get good, fast, and cheap all in the same meal. Plan it right, and you can even get four meals for two people out of just one bird.

First, though, you’ll need to select that bird. Here are some of the labels you’ll encounter at the market.

Conventionally raised chickens are given drugs to speed up their rate of growth and additives to enhance their color. Cooped up in cramped, damp conditions without natural ventilation, these birds are also dosed with antibiotics to prevent disease outbreaks.

Most non-organic chickens sold in supermarkets are killed after only 42 days, which means their bulk is made up of mostly fat, making them bland and tasteless. Processed and left to soak in a waterlogging bath, these birds are heavier when purchased and less flavorful when prepared.

Natural is a label for any minimally processed food that contains no artificial flavors, colors, or preservatives. Therefore, virtually all chickens are “natural." 

Free-range chickens have room to move, but the term “free range” only means that they have been provided with access to the outdoors. The doorway to the great outdoors might be hard to find, and the small patch of ground outside might just be dirt. A bird labeled free-range could’ve been fed anything (GMO grains, pesticide-treated grains, even animal byproducts), may have been given antibiotics or hormones, and was perhaps raised in unsanitary or unsafe living conditions.

Kosher chickens may seem like a good choice since they are fed only grain (never animals or animal byproducts), are free-range in a clean environment, and are never given antibiotics, growth hormones, or steroids. However, their feed is conventional and their environment can be cleaned with chemicals.

Kosher chickens are slaughtered as humanely as possible (to cause the least amount of stress) and manufactured in a facility that complies with kosher dietary standards. They are more expensive because making a chicken kosher for purchase takes about three times as long as non-kosher.

Organic chickens are fed only organic grains (meaning non-GMO feed) and are never given antibiotics, hormones, or drugs. They are raised humanely in a stress-free environment with room to roam and exercise their muscles. They enjoy continuous entry to a clean, safe outdoor area with more space than a non-organic, intensive chicken farm. Organic chickens are also raised for at least 81 days, allowing chicks to grow at their natural rate and enjoy double the lifespan as well as a higher quality of life.

The only possible downside to buying organic chickens is the impact on our pocketbooks. But organic birds taste better and are healthier for us to consume. Consider that when you’re next at the store — the flabby, bland, drug-filled conventional bird versus the plump, tasty, clean organic bird.

Once you’ve got your four- or five-pound organic bird, rinse it and remove the legs; set aside both the legs and the neck. (The neck will go into stock; the legs will go into tikka masala.) Put the rest of the chicken in a large pot. Cover it with some chicken stock and water, then add some chopped carrots, celery, and onion. I like to add herbs (a few sprigs of parsley or thyme and a bay leaf), some peppercorns, salt, and a few crushed garlic cloves. Bring everything to a boil, then lower the heat to a bare simmer for about an hour for a soft, moist, and silky chicken poached in a delicious broth.

The reason I love to poach chicken is that you can make it into a satisfying soup all year round, using whichever seasonal vegetables are available. When the chicken is cooked through, take it out of the pot and add asparagus and peas in spring or summer, potatoes and carrots in fall and winter. If you like, simmer some noodles, dumplings, or matzo balls in the broth as well.

Meanwhile, use a fork to shred as much meat off the bones as possible. Have a taste to see if it’s seasoned to your liking. When the vegetables (and optional floating starches) are cooked, take about half of the shredded meat and add it back to the pot. Your chicken soup is ready.

As for the remaining shredded chicken, that’s lunch or dinner the next day: in sandwiches, chicken salad, or enchiladas. Or add it to cold sesame noodles tossed with green apples, scallions, and cilantro.

While cleaning up, stick the chicken carcass in a stockpot with the reserved neck and some extra vegetables, then cover it all with water. You’re going to make chicken stock by letting the mixture simmer for about two hours, until the flavors are concentrated and the volume has reduced.

Finally, if you’re planning to make chicken tikka masala, prep the marinade and let the chicken legs marinate overnight.

So there you have it: chicken soup on the first night, chicken salad or other leftovers for lunch or dinner the next day, and tikka masala the next night or so. And when you’re pulling that chicken stock from the freezer for the fourth meal, pat yourself on the back: you’ve achieved good, fast, and cheap, all on your own.

Recipes for Grilled Chicken Tikka Masala
Chicken Salad with Celery and Scallions
Poached Chicken Soup

Culinate 8: The Universal Grill

2008-08-01T11:45:00.000-07:00

It's good for much more than hamburgers

Published August 1, 2008
Culinate.com

Summer is full of familiar sounds: the growl of lawn mowers, the tinkling of the ice-cream truck, the hiss of food sizzling over gas or charcoal. Burgers, dogs, chicken breasts, corn on the cob, veggie kabobs — that’s what you grill, right?

Well, think outside the grill box and consider barbecuing foods that you’d normally cook in an oven or not at all. Here’s our list of unusual-but-worthwhile foods to sling on the grill.

1. Smoky and chewy, its edges lightly charred and insides moist, the crust of a grilled pizza is reminiscent of naan. A combination of direct and indirect heat makes for the textural yin-yang.

Begin by preheating half of the grill to high heat (500 degrees) and the other side to medium-high heat (350 to 400 degrees). Form and flatten the pizza dough on a square of parchment paper so that it holds its shape until it meets the grill. Lightly brush the dough with oil before flipping it onto the grate over the hottest part of the grill. The dough will harden and darken immediately on its underside, while the top will begin to puff.

Brush the disk with some olive oil, turn it over and slide it onto the cooler side of the grill, and begin to add the toppings, building backwards. Start with the cheese on the bottom, followed by the toppings. Finish with something saucy — a generous drizzle of olive oil, large teaspoonfuls of tomato sauce or pesto — and a light sprinkling of Parmesan cheese.

Slide the pizza back over to the hotter side of the grill to finish. Lightly brush the hot crust with olive oil and serve immediately. I guarantee love at first bite.

2. Swordfish steaks and entire salmon cooked on the grill, sure. But mussels and clams? Well, over hot coals was probably the first way humans cooked bivalves. If they’re big enough, put them directly on the grate of a hot grill, close the lid until they open, and toss them with a buttery concoction of garlic and herbs. Or arrange them in a perforated pan and spray them with beer to steam them open.

Serve the bivalves with thick slices of coarse-textured, chewy bread (like ciabatta) toasted on the grill. When it’s golden brown, rub the toast with a clove of garlic, drizzle generously with olive oil, and sprinkle with sea salt. Open another beer and sip, dip, and slurp.

3. I love the kitschy concept and delicious taste of beer-can chicken, but the method can take up to two hours. That doesn’t mean the grill isn’t the perfect choice for cooking a whole chicken, though. To develop the same smoky flavor and fall-off-the-bone tenderness of a bird perched atop a Budweiser, I like to spatchcock it, a method far less salacious than it sounds.

A spatchcocked chicken is partially boned (its backbone is removed) and butterflied, allowing it to be grilled flat. Exposing more of the meat’s surface to the flames speeds up the cooking process and makes for more crispy, crunchy bits of skin and meat. To ensure even cooking, position the leg end of the chicken toward an indirect fire so the dark meat cooks at a higher temperature than the light meat.

4. My version of salad on the grill is a cross between pan tomaca, the deliciously garlicky tomato-smeared “toast” enjoyed by Castilians, and panzanella, the Tuscan bread salad.

Toss 1-inch-square cubes of chewy artisanal bread with garlic, olive oil, and salt. Do the same with an equal number of cherry tomatoes. Thread the bread and tomatoes onto separate bamboo skewers and grill over high heat until the bread cubes are lightly toasty and the tomatoes blister, char, and come close to bursting.

Remove the bread and tomatoes from the skewers into a large bowl and toss with several tablespoons of a simple vinaigrette made with olive oil, red-wine vinegar, and shallots. Continue adding vinaigrette until the items are sufficiently moistened. Add a few large handfuls of mixed greens, spinach or arugula leaves, and some torn basil. Presto: grilled salad.

5. There are a few terrific ways to prepare potatoes on a grill — wrapped in foil and shoved into the coals, or boiled and then charred on a grill — but my favorite method is grill-roasted. Slice small fingerling or new potatoes into halves and larger potatoes into spears, like steak fries. Toss the potatoes with olive oil and kosher salt, a smashed garlic clove, and some rosemary.

Preheat the grill to high and place the potatoes directly on the grate, cut sides down. Cook, turning as needed, until the potatoes are crisp and tender, about 10 to 12 minutes, depending on the size and variety used.

Enjoy grill-roasted potatoes like French fries (plain, with ketchup, or dipped in a garlicky aïoli) or as baked potatoes, with a fat dollop of herb-speckled sour cream or Greek yogurt. Sweet potato spears roasted on the grill and smothered in red-pepper rouille should also not be missed.

6. Fresh fruit is delicious by itself, but the heat of the grill extracts the fruit’s natural sugar while warming it through and the fire caramelizes the surface, creating luscious, sweet brown syrup. What you’re left with just tastes better — better than what you started with, better than what you’d imagined it could be. It’s fruit, after all.

Put a little butter on quartered peaches and halved plums or, in the off season, pineapple chunks and whole peeled bananas. The slight grill marks and blackened crispness provide the sweetness without adding sugar. Serve the fruit with crème fraîche, Greek yogurt and honey, or ice cream.

7. When they’re in season, I like my strawberries roasted. I’ve never found a better way to enjoy their intense concentrated flavors.

Toss 2 pints strawberries with 3 or 4 tablespoons of sugar and a modest glug of wine or liqueur, or some water and lemon juice. Use soft butter to generously coat the bottom and sides of a nonreactive, ovenproof baking pan just large enough to hold the berries in a single layer with their sides almost touching. Fit the berries snugly, pointing up, and pour the juices from the bowl over them.

Grill over high heat until they’re bubbly and begin to collapse. Cooking times will vary greatly depending on the variety, size, and ripeness of the strawberries, anywhere from 3 to 8 minutes.

Spoon the pan juices over the berries to moisten them, then ladle the roasted berries over cake or ice cream, or serve them in a bowl with simple shortbread cookies and lightly sweetened cream.

8. Once a Girl Scout and an avid camper still, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention that s’mores are my favorite grilled dessert. Easier and very satisfying, however, are baked goods warmed on a grill. Pound cake, sponge cake, and biscuits stay delicate and tender even as they’re soaking up the tasty, toasty notes that come with cooking over an open flame.

Use the grill to spruce up the last few slices of pound cake or the biscuits left over from the previous day’s strawberry shortcake. Finish with fruit, ice cream, a squeeze of caramel, or a simple custard sauce.

Recipes for Basic Pizza Dough for the Grill
Grilled Mussels and Clams
Panzanella Skewers with Parmesan Vinaigrette
Roasted Strawberries

The Blushing Apricot

2008-06-04T14:17:00.000-07:00

Published Summer, 2008
Edible Portland

Every apricot I ate last summer was more luscious than the last. My memory of the season is that it was deliciously long, and full of astoundingly good fruit that made my jaw drop, then quickly snap shut, to savor the exquisite textures and intense flavors. Like a sweetly fragrant peach that sends sticky juices dripping down wrists and chins, the faintly rouged cheeks and heady aroma of apricots tell me we’re in the thick of summer.

The sensory appeal of apricots is undeniable. When compared to their stone fruit brethren — peaches, nectarines, plums and cherries — they are somehow more exotic. Maybe it’s the velvety smooth skin or the concentrated flavor, round and full of honey. Perhaps it’s the way the two deeply orange halves fall away easily from the smooth stone between them, or the surprise inside that pit: a small, almond-shaped seed with a subtle perfume and delicate flavor reminiscent of almonds.

The seed of an apricot stone, called noyau (French for “pit material”), contains oil similar in flavor to bitter almond oil. Because it is far less expensive, confectioners often use it to flavor sweets. Eau de Noyaux, a liqueur manufactured in France, is made from the seeds, as is Amaretto, the famous Italian liqueur that combines noyau with bitter almonds. (Like bitter almonds, noyau — which includes apple seeds and apricot, cherry, and peach pits — contains infinitesimal traces of cyanide. You’d get sick eating the fruit to get to the pits long before the pits themselves would have any ill effect. However, if this is a concern, lightly toast the seeds to denature the cyanide.)

Use noyau as an accent in recipes that call for almond meal. Finely grind a few and add them to Parisian-style macaroons or a crust made with almond meal. Use them in a frangipane (almond cream) filling or to flavor custards and ice cream.

Seasonal and highly perishable, apricots are a fleeting luxury that peak in July when 90% of the fresh crop has gone to market. California has been the nation’s top producer of apricots since 1792, when tree cuttings were introduced by Spanish explorers who planted them in their mission gardens along the Pacific slope of the state. Today most of California’s apricots come from the San Joaquin Valley. Varieties you’re likely to find in the Northwest include Tilton, Blenheim (or Royal), and Puget Gold, a prolific bearer of large, elongated yellow-gold fruit developed in Washington specifically to beat the rains and frosts of the region.

Because they tend to ripen unevenly, an apricot may be soft and jam-like on its sun-kissed side, and hard on the other. Look for plump, firm fruit with reasonably uniform color and a blush that begins at the stem end and spreads down and across the cheeks. A ripe apricot should yield ever so slightly to the touch. Prevent over-ripening by keeping them cool, or storing those that are ready to eat in the refrigerator for up to one week.

When you’ve had your fill of fresh apricots, there are all kinds of ways to extend the short season: Can them, or halve and pit them for the freezer, where they hold up beautifully. Poach, roast, and bake with them. Make brandy and preserves. As is the case with peaches, when apricots are good, they are very, very good. And when they are less stellar than last year’s crop, they still make gorgeous jam.

Their full, honeyed flavor and heavy, sweet perfume are balanced by an acidity that makes apricots equally suited to cooking and baking, in both sweet and savory applications. My favorite summer salad combines warm orzo (dressed with a “vinaigrette” made from olive oil, grated fresh ginger, a squeeze of lemon juice, and salt) with diced fresh apricots, scallions, cilantro and sliced almonds. Basil is delicious too, especially if pine nuts stand in for the almonds. Squishy, overripe apricots cooked down with sweet onions, honey, and mustard seeds become a glaze that brightens pork and chicken, while firm, ripe fruit shines in a salsa with lime juice, jalapeño, and cilantro, for grilled fish.

When it comes to sweets, lavender and lemon verbena are among the apricot’s loveliest sidekicks; use them to infuse a simple syrup for sorbet or poaching. Apricots make for a gorgeous upside-down cake and a fine tarte tatin, looking for all the world like egg yolks perched on a caramel canvas. The marriage of apricots, honey, and almonds is pure Provençal, a tasty triumvirate on a par with other heavenly combinations that recall summer: BLTs and Negronis (Campari, gin and vermouth). So here’s to a season — short but sweet — of three’s: apricot ice cream, sorbet, and gelato; apricot cobbler, crumble, and crisp; and apricot tarts — frangipane, custard, and Provençal.

Recipe for Apricot Tart Provencal with Almonds and Honey

Fresh Cherries

2008-05-01T10:20:00.000-07:00

Symbol of Summer

Published Summer, 2008
Fresh Ideas magazine

If rosy-red rhubarb shot through with green signals spring, then glossy cherries in shades of garnet are a sure sign that summer has arrived. For me, cherries are a little bit like potato chips--it's unthinkable to eat just one. I'd even go so far as to say they're impossible to resist. And here in the Pacific Northwest, they're difficult to ignore.

Wander the streets of any Portland neighborhood beginning in early June and look up; limbs heavy with the jewel-toned orbs hand over fences and span crimson-stained sidewalks littered with pits.

Click the pages below to continue reading.

All You Knead

2008-04-28T10:37:00.000-07:00

Embellish No-Knead Bread with whole grains

Published April 28, 2008
Culinate.com

I've felt comfortable in the kitchen as far back as I can remember. Weekend mornings as a young child were often spent manning the griddle from a stepstool, flipping pancakes made from a dog-eared page in my personal bible, the 1965 edition of Betty Crocker's Cookbook for Boys and Girls.

There’s no question that I gravitated to recipes calling for butter, flour, sugar, and eggs — perhaps a foreshadowing of my career as a pastry chef — but I was careful to balance my diet of sweets with the occasional Bunny Salad (pear half, cottage-cheese tail, almond-sliver ears, and raisin eyes, perched on a bed of lettuce) or loaf of Swedish rye bread, speckled with anise and fennel seeds and plenty of orange zest. That bread opened a delicious window into bread baking. [more]

Culinate 8: The Wheat-Free Wagon

2008-04-18T13:43:00.000-07:00

Non-wheat flours

Published April 18, 2008
Culinate.com

As a companion piece to an earlier Culinate 8 on wheat flours, here’s a look at eight other types of flour. Many of these flours are good options if you’re gluten-intolerant or allergic to wheat; all are good if you’re just looking to broaden the range of whole grains you eat on a regular basis. All of these flours are a pleasure to bake with once you’ve identified their best qualities and shortcomings.

The eight flours below may be high in protein, but most are short on gluten. Some are also high in fat, so purchase them in small amounts or store them in the freezer to prevent them from turning rancid.

1. Barley comes in several forms, whole pearl barley being the most familiar. A good wheat-free option, barley is low in fat and high in antioxidants and fiber. Mild-tasting barley flour is an excellent candidate for surreptitiously boosting whole-grain goodness in your baking. Plus, it has the distinct advantage of mimicking the buttery, fatty mouthfeel we expect from baked goods.

Barley flour is low in gluten and must be combined with wheat flour. Substitute barley flour for up to 50 percent of the flour called for in your recipes for cookies, pancakes, and items requiring less structure. For higher-rising baked goods, like cakes and quick breads, substitute 25 percent barley for wheat.

Uses: Scones, quick breads, and pancakes; cakes and cookies; pie crust.

2. Kamut is actually a brand name for the grain believed to be conventional wheat’s Egyptian ancestor. Also known as QK-77 and khorasan, kamut is related to durum wheat. Kamut can be agreeable to gluten-intolerant individuals, but those with celiac disease or wheat allergies should steer clear.

Kamut grains are larger, sweeter, and higher in protein than today’s wheat, making the flour a solid substitute in recipes calling for whole wheat. Substitute equal parts of kamut for whole-wheat flour.

Uses: Bread, pasta dough, and crackers; cakes and cookies; muffins, quick breads, and biscuits.

3. Because it’s missing phenolic acid, the element in wheat’s bran layer that makes it bitter, spelt is mild in flavor. Smooth, sweet, and nutty, spelt has four times the fiber of wheat and is rich in manganese and B-complex vitamins. With 40 percent more protein, spelt is capable of producing more gluten than wheat, making it unsuitable for those with wheat allergies.

Although it’s plentiful, spelt’s gluten is more delicate, causing it to absorb liquids quickly, then release them just as readily. This is easily remedied by resting cookie doughs or cake and quick-bread batters before baking.

Uses: Pizza crust, foccacia, and flatbreads; cakes and cookies; muffins, pancakes, and quick breads.

4. Until recently, quinoa was only consumed whole. Quinoa is the most nutritionally rich grain, boasting up to 20 percent protein balanced with amino acids. It’s also full of iron and fiber. Quinoa flour has more fat than wheat, which lends a moist mouthfeel to its slightly grassy flavor. It’s a great choice for those who eat gluten-free.

Substitute up to 50 percent quinoa flour for all-purpose flour, or entirely for whole-wheat flour.

Uses: Cookies and cakes, pancakes.

5. Corn adds a sweet, nutty flavor to everything from fritters to shortbread cookies. When ground to varying degrees, from coarse meal to fine flour, corn is a good source of vitamin A, manganese, and potassium, but has less protein than wheat.

Cornmeal and corn flour have no gluten, but can be paired with wheat flour to add lightness, lift, and structure to baked goods. Both work well as the only grain in tortillas, flatbreads, and pancakes.

Uses: Good for sweet and savory applications: bread, pizza dough, waffles, muffins, and crackers.

6. Most people find the vaguely sweet, nutty flavor of oats appealing and soothing. With twice the protein of wheat or corn flakes, oats are a nutritional powerhouse. Oat flour contains 17 percent protein and can be substituted for as much as one-third of the wheat flour in bread recipes. It also works well in smaller amounts, in cake and cookie recipes that call for creaming butter and sugar. Remember what Wilford Brimley said: “It’s the right thing to do and the tasty way to do it.”

Uses: Bread, some cakes and cookies.

7. Milled rice is a traditional ingredient in the foods of other cultures — rice cakes, noodles, drinks, and spring-roll wrappers. Because it is slow to absorb liquid, bread bakers use it to prevent sticking when forming loaves. Rice flour has no gluten, so it must be combined with another flour and should represent no more than 5 percent of the total flour used. When used with wheat flour, it adds a sandy quality characteristic of crackers and shortbread.

Uses: Pancakes, shortbread, crackers.

8. Legume flours, including pea, bean, chickpea, and lentil flours, can be used to add flavor and nutrients to many dishes. Use black-bean, chickpea, or green-pea flour to make tortillas or crackers. Flours made from neutrally flavored white beans, pea beans, and navy beans can be substituted for 5 to 15 percent of the flour in your recipe without affecting quality or flavor. They produce especially soft bread because they are very finely ground and contain no gluten-forming proteins.

Uses: Bread, crackers, tortillas, soup bases.

Recipe for Espresso chocolate chip cookies with orange and apricots

Culinate 8: Flour Power

2008-04-16T11:11:00.000-07:00

Published April 16, 2008
Culinate.com

North American wheat flour is considered the best in the world; it’s consistent, reliable, and of very high quality. One of our largest crops, it’s exported all over the globe.

But the continent grows just two types of wheat: hard and soft. Both have winter and spring crops, each of which produce red and white varieties. Hard wheat is high in protein and grows best in colder climes. (Durum wheat, the hardest kind of wheat, thrives in locations like Montana and Manitoba, where winter means serious business.) Soft wheat is low in protein and grows plentifully in the Carolinas, where winters are mild and dry.

Two basic types of flour are milled from these two varieties of wheat; the others on the U.S. market are hybrids. Here’s a quick roundup of the wheaty basics in the flour department.

1. Traditional whole-wheat flour is milled from the whole red-wheat kernel: endosperm, bran, and germ. The bran and germ make this flour extremely nutritious and rich in fiber, and give items made with whole-wheat flour their characteristic nutty, toasty flavor. Made from soft or hard wheat, whole-wheat flour is blended into bread, all-purpose, and pastry flours. Baked goods made with whole-wheat flour will be chewier and heavier than those made with white flours.

The fat contained in wheat germ can turn rancid within three to four months of milling, so it’s best to clear out a small corner in your refrigerator or freezer; kept here, your whole-wheat flour should last six to eight months.

When substituting whole-wheat flour for white flour in yeasted breads, use a ratio of about 60 percent whole-wheat flour to 40 percent white flour. For lighter baked goods, start with 25 percent whole-wheat flour and replace no more than half of the white flour called for in the recipe.

Uses: Raised and quick breads, pancakes, muffins, cookies, cakes (like gingerbread, pumpkin, and banana) piecrust, and pizza dough.

2. Although red whole-wheat flour has been around since long before any of us were baking, white whole-wheat flour is a relative (and welcome) newcomer. It was developed about 20 years ago, the result of efforts to produce a wheat flour with all the nutritional attributes of whole-wheat flour and none of the bitterness found in the phenolic acid of its bran layer.

While ordinary white flour is ground from the endosperm alone — the bran and germ are removed during milling — white whole-wheat flour is ground from the entire grain. The phenolic acid has been bred out of the bran layer, leaving the fiber and nutrients of traditional whole-wheat flour intact.

White whole-wheat flour has a milder, less tannic flavor and a lighter color than traditional whole-wheat flour. Some find it slightly bland by comparison; this blandness might be objectionable in a loaf of bread, but it’s difficult to detect in a peanut-butter cookie. In fact, white whole-wheat flour is the perfect place to begin if you’re thinking about introducing more whole grains into your diet.

Keep white whole-wheat flour in the refrigerator or freezer, as you would with other whole grains and whole-grain flours. If you buy in bulk from a source with high turnover, you can buy as much or as little as you need and have space to store. Plus, the prices are almost always better and the product will be fresh.

For everyday baking, I’ve found that using white whole-wheat flour in place of the entire amount of all-purpose flour produces a result that’s just as tasty as the original, with the benefit of increased fiber, vitamins, and minerals. You can also start by replacing 30 percent of the all-purpose flour in your favorite recipes with white whole-wheat flour. Increase that percentage gradually, until the flavor and texture are to your liking.

Uses: Cookies, muffins, pancakes, and quick breads.

3. Home bakers most commonly use all-purpose flour; it’s a blend of soft and hard wheats. Because the ratio of soft to hard varies among brands — and protein content is affected by climate, changes in the seasons, and weather — all-purpose flour averages between 9 and 11 percent protein. It can be purchased bleached or unbleached. Most recipes work well with all-purpose flour.

We know that whole-wheat flour is good for us, but it’s a misconception that unbleached all-purpose flour is nutritionally empty. Whole wheat has greater fiber content and is noticeably richer in potassium, calcium, and phosphorus. It is only slightly higher in protein, however, while all-purpose is lower in fat and sodium.

Uses: Everyday baking (pancakes and waffles, cookies and muffins, quick breads). Not suitable for light-textured, fluffy cakes.

4. Cake flour is made from finely milled soft winter wheat, which is high in starch and low in gluten-forming proteins (8 percent). It’s usually bleached to guarantee a snowy white appearance (think angel-food cake) and to destroy the extensibility (ability to stretch in a relaxed way without shrinking back to the original shape) and strength of the gluten formed. This ensures a tender texture in the light cakes and delicate pastries that call for cake flour.

You can approximate cake flour’s unique properties by adding 2 tablespoons cornstarch to 3/4 cup bleached all-purpose flour to make the equivalent of 1 cup cake flour.

Don’t confuse cake flour with self-rising cake flour, which contains regulated proportions of baking powder and salt. Make your own self-rising cake flour by adding 1 teaspoon baking powder and 1/2 teaspoon salt per cup of cake flour.

Uses: Delicate pastries and light cakes such as angel-food and chiffon cakes.

5. Pastry flour is similar to cake flour, but has a slightly higher gluten content (9 percent), which gives it the means to strike that elusive balance of tender and flaky that we covet in items like pie crust.

It’s fairly common to find pastry flour in bulk sections of grocery stores these days, but you can make your own by mixing 1 part cake flour with 3 parts all-purpose flour. In many cases, it’s perfectly acceptable to use all-purpose flour in place of pastry flour if you are careful not to overwork the dough.

Uses: Flaky pastries and pie dough, biscuits, tarts, cakes.

6. Bread flour is made from hard red winter wheat or a blend of hard wheats. Its high gluten content (usually between 12 and 14 percent) gives dough greater extensibility, a characteristic sought after by artisan bakers. Bread flour comes in several shapes and sizes: whole wheat, white whole wheat, organic, bleached, and unbleached.

To substitute all-purpose flour for bread flour, by volume, use 1 cup and 1 1/2 tablespoons of all-purpose flour for every cup of bread flour.

Uses: Yeast-raised breads (but not quick breads).

7. Durum or semolina flour (sometimes labeled “pasta flour”) is made by finely grinding the heart of the durum wheatberry. The result is a silky, golden flour that is especially desirable for pasta-making since it cooks firmly and absorbs less water than softer flours.

Durum wheat has the highest protein content of all wheat flours, but the gluten that it forms isn’t as elastic or stretchy as other hard wheat flours. For this reason, it is generally used in combination with all-purpose flour or bread flour.

Don’t confuse the flour with coarsely ground semolina particles, which are often used for dusting the baking sheet or stone when making bread.

Uses: Pasta, gnocchi, traditional Italian breads like Sicilian mafalda and scaletta.

8. High-gluten flour is made from hard red spring wheat that has been treated to remove most of its starch, leaving it with an even higher percentage of gluten-producing proteins (14.5 percent and up). It’s generally added to doughs made with low-gluten flours (like rye or corn) that can’t muster enough elasticity on their own.

High-gluten flour tends to be quite a bit more expensive than bread flour, making the more readily available vital wheat gluten an attractive option. Vital wheat gluten, also know as gluten flour, is removed from flour using a washing process. It can then be then added back to doughs containing large amounts of non-flour ingredients in relation to wheat flour, or used in combination with low-gluten or alternative flours.

The addition of vital wheat gluten bolsters dough’s protein content and gives it a chewier crumb while providing extra strength, structure, and support for additional ingredients like nuts, seeds, grains, and olives.

Try adding between 2 teaspoons and 2 tablespoons of vital wheat gluten per cup of flour. Be aware that it is capable of absorbing more liquid, so additional water may be needed. Vital wheat gluten will keep refrigerated for up to 16 months.

Uses: Add to bread dough containing low-protein flours and meals such as corn, rye, and oats, or extra ingredients like cheese, onions, dried fruits, and nuts.And here is the rest of it.

Spring Lamb

2008-03-05T14:50:00.000-08:00

Published Spring, 2008
Edible Portland

Wherever there have been undulating grassy slopes and people living among them, there have been sheep. The animal and the people who tend it have long embodied the gentle, bucolic spirit of a culture. Like Mary and her little lamb, flock and shepherd wander freely from one verdant knoll to the next without destination or deadline. When counted, they woo us to peaceful slumber. Theirs is an innocent freedom that celebrates nature’s renewal.

From time immemorial, lamb has symbolized the season of rebirth. Mostly associated with iconic and religious rituals, especially at Easter, “spring” lamb represents the expiatory sacrificial lamb for some, the most delectable of seasonal treats for others.

The reasons for lamb’s seasonality are straightforward: Ovulation in ewes is naturally prompted by the shortening days of autumn, so the birth of lambs, whose gestation period is five months, coincides with the first fresh grass of spring. The term “lamb” actually describes the meat of the animal from the time it is weaned, at four months, to one year old. A bit of simple arithmetic raises this question: Why is there a tradition of eating “spring” lamb at Easter?

Terminology is the problem here. Centuries ago, “new season” or “spring” lamb were born from Dorset Horn ewes. An old English breed that naturally lambs in autumn, Dorset ewes yield newborns that will mature in time to claim a place at…er, on the Easter table.

These days, however, Susie Wilson of SuDan Farm explained to me, a spring lamb refers to an animal raised on grass and butchered at the right weight rather than a certain time of year. The “younger is better” maxim does not hold true for lamb.

Oregon’s climate offers the same unique advantages for producing fauna that it does for flora. The winning combination of an extended grass-growing season and access to sheep with longer breeding cycles—like Dorset Horn ewes—means fresh lamb is available 52 weeks of the year. Farmers and ranchers can tinker with a flock by putting a “teaser” ram among the ewes, allowing them to lamb twice a year, usually around March and again in September.

Perhaps the real question is whether the lamb is truly “spring” lamb or merely all-season.

We’re unlikely to take into account our carnivorous leanings when we talk about eating seasonally. As wild creatures, animals have seasonal cycles of breeding, roaming, grazing, and birthing that dictate when they are harvestable. Because technology and the global market have interfered with these natural rhythms, like almost everything we eat today, meat is available year round. Still, lamb is perhaps the only widely farmed animal whose consumption retains a seasonal element.

But there are factors other than season that enhance the quality of a leg of lamb, such as breed and native habitat. Meat can be one of the great expressions of a spirit of place, an edible calling card from the animal’s hometown.

An animal from the Connemara region of Ireland or certain parts of France will grow fat munching on salty marsh grass and herbs. Lamb from Provence might taste herbaceous, redolent of rosemary, thyme, and wild fennel, while Colorado lamb is perfumed with clover and balsam. Sonoma County lamb is reputed to have a faint hint of wild garlic.

Genuine spring lamb is born, not killed, in the spring. Born in February or March, these animals are weaned four months later, at which point they graze and fatten exclusively on summer grass. Their meat becomes rich and sweet, and takes on a dark hue and a pronounced marbling of creamy-colored fat that matches beautifully with the earthy, forthright flavors of root vegetables and orchard fruit.

The lamb born in autumn is the one who will join the pastel-stained eggs and hollow chocolate bunnies. When you eat it, you will be communing with both seasons, something to keep in mind when you next celebrate spring.
Recipe for Grilled Lamb with Minted Yogurt

Truitt Brothers

2007-12-02T15:17:00.000-08:00

Preserving the Bounty in the Modern Age

Published Winter, 2007
Edible Portland

As a cook, I have an uneasy relationship with canned foods. Other than the small, silver foil-wrapped tins of LeSueur Early Peas, for which I’ll admit a three-year-old’s fondness, not much of what I ate growing up came from cans. At that time, Julia Child had set the stage for the culinary boom in America by teaching us how to cook, and Alice Waters was teaching us about the best ingredients: where to find them, how to use them and how to savor them.

Living in northern California as we did afforded my mother the opportunity to pay homage to both women by preparing elaborate home-cooked meals featuring the region’s staggering abundance. Honestly. This is not an overstatement—we were overwhelmed by it, having moved from a slightly less fertile suburb of Baltimore. Other than the canned tomatoes she put in her spaghetti sauce, food from cans rarely figured into her recipes or our meals.

Current trends in cooking and eating reflect Americans’ renewed passion for sourcing and preparing the freshest, most delicious ingredients. Organics is the fastest growing sector of the food economy—farmers’ markets have more than doubled in the last ten years, and cooking classes at high-end markets and kitchen stores sell out regularly. And Portland is at the forefront of this resurgence.

Given the agrarian opulence of the Northwest, it’s not surprising that specialized offerings like classes in growing, preserving, pickling, canning and curing one’s own food abound. Are we finally seeing the beauty and romance of lining pantry shelves with jewel-colored pint jars of summer’s bounty for what it is: just plain smart?

But what if there isn’t a single vestige of summer in your cupboards or your too-small freezer? Maybe you don’t have the time or inclination to preserve your own food. That’s where canned food fits in. With a growing emphasis on seasonality, it’s reassuring to know that there are flavorful, nutritious and socially responsible store-bought options available to supplement or replace home canning.

Contrary to my own experience, David and Peter Truitt’s childhood was filled with canned goods. The brothers are the third generation of a food-processing family whose story begins in Louisiana, with sweet potatoes. They moved to Salem in 1973, locating their canning business in a building (circa 1914) listed on the national historic register. Beans have always been one of the Willamette Valley’s better commodity crops; the facility the Truitts took over had run pole beans, which gave them a slight advantage with their plan to process bush beans.

Today Truitt Bros. is one of Oregon’s fastest growing privately held businesses. They added a specialty food processing operation in the 1990s, and have expanded in every direction to occupy neighboring buildings. A leader in the shelf-stable foods industry for more than 33 years, the majority of Truitt Bros. products are sold by the #10 can (industry-speak for a can weighing 6 lbs 8 oz – 7 lbs 5 oz) under private labels to food service giants like Sysco. Two-thirds of the canner’s business comes from food service establishments serving college dining halls and restaurant chains, which is why you probably haven’t heard of them. But that’s about to change.

There was a time when shoppers walked the perimeter of the grocery store, glancing past the canned goods in the center aisles in search of seasonal fresh fruits and vegetables. It just makes sense that fresh produce has the most vitamins, but here are the facts: Crops that go directly from field to can often retain vitamins better than just-harvested crops that travel through the distribution chain before reaching your kitchen.

Shoppers may think that canned food is less nutritious than fresh or frozen, but studies show that, once the food is prepared for the table, the nutrient levels of canned foods are equal to and/or better than those of fresh or frozen. To ensure that foods are packed at the peak of freshness, flavor and nutrition, Truitt’s canning facilities are located within a few miles of the point of harvest.

Doug Roth and his family operate G & C Farms eight miles from Truitt Bros., where they farm 1000 acres, 150 of which grow green beans, at seven to eight tons of beans per acre. The Roth family has done business with Truitt Bros. since 1973. This sort of relationship with their growers—purchasing fields of beans raised with great care and a sense of pride, from farmers they know by name—has always set Truitt Bros. apart from competitors like Del Monte, who relinquish quality control because they’re buying by the crop, for volume.

Most of Truitt Bros.’ growers have supplied fruits and vegetables directly to them since Day One. Cannery operations manager, Sue Root, and her family have grown the cherries processed in the canning facility she oversees for three generations. During college, Sue worked for Del Monte and Diamond Fruit, where, she says, the equipment is much the same as it has always been, just more efficient. Perfectly ripe pears are processed in only 30 minutes, passing at one point through a bank of 30-year-old pear-peeling machines that require a team of on-site mechanics to keep them running smoothly. It takes between three and six hours for a Blue Lake bean to make the journey from the field to its can. After 25 years in the field and cannery, Sue knows the process inside and out, and her contribution as a link between operations and marketing has been invaluable.

Last spring, Truitt Bros. earned the right to label two signature-canned products, Willamette Valley–grown Blue Lake green beans and juice-packed Bartlett pears from The Dalles, with the Food Alliance certified seal. Naturally they would be required to purchase fruits and vegetables from farms certified by Food Alliance for sustainable farming practices, so they enticed their growers to seek certification by offering an incentive of a $5 premium per ton on certified crops. Not exactly small potatoes when you’re talking about thousands of tons.

Growers like Doug Roth said the decision to follow suit was “a slam dunk.” Despite the fact that there had been no change in the price of green beans for 20 years, it was just the right thing to do. Roth saw it as a chance to appeal to the changing market, and encourage consumers to buy beans again because of the care being taken in raising them.

Because of their practices, Truitt Bros. has received an order for pears from the progressive local food service company, Bon Appétit. You’ll also find them on the shelves of New Seasons and Whole Foods markets, in 100% recyclable steel containers designed to preserve the quality and nutrients of the contents. The 100% recycled paper labels are printed with soy-based inks; the handsome design recalls vintage grocery and fruit crate labels. But they don’t just look good; the labels offer traceability, identifying both the grower—by name—and processor (with an attractive rendering of the Truitt brothers’ faces), information discerning shoppers have come to expect when making food choices.

Canned foods are still the purest food package you’ll find. Believe it or not, cans are produced using less energy than any other container (yes, plastic too). And the products in those cans are processed with less energy than any other method of preservation.

According to Larousse Gastronomique, the ultimate culinary resource, “The necessity of guarding against want by stocking surplus food is almost as old as human life itself.” Call me a survivalist: I put up more food than ever this year. I always manage to find time for jam and jelly making, but this year we acquired a chest freezer (I have no idea how I lived without it) and talked about sharing a steer with neighbors. But what’s really thrilling is that I did some canning.

My grandmother took great pride in the rows of quart jars lining their Ohio basement cellar: peaches, plums, jam, pickles, beets, beans and tomatoes. For our predecessors, the work of farming the land was a time-consuming business. Sources of food outside of what they grew themselves, within their communities, were neither available nor affordable; preserving the food they had grown was about survival.

Today, home food preservation is optional but enjoying a revival as we explore our food roots. Its return reflects a desire to know where our food is coming from and what, exactly, is in the jar. And because processors are responding to this movement, a few cans of Truitt Bros. juice-packed Bartlett pears and Willamette Valley–grown Blue Lake green beans can be found in my pantry, nestled between the ruby-red baby beets and crunchy dilly beans.

Recipe for Four-Hour Pickled Green Beans

Brussels sprouts

2007-11-09T10:57:00.000-08:00

Published Winter, 2007
Edible Portland

Is there a vegetable more despised, condemned for its lack of subtlety, its imposing perfume? Brussels sprouts are like cilantro. People don’t have mixed feelings about them. They either love them or hate them.

Though smaller than their cousin the head cabbage, brussels sprouts pose an equal threat of overwhelming with their off-putting flavor and slimy texture. Pile on a host of indignities from being picked too large (they should be no larger than a small plum), stored too long (get them on the trunk, at the farmers’ market) and cooked to death, and you get a vegetable that’s never chosen, begrudgingly accepted, and no one’s favorite. For some, the only positive thing about it is that it’s over in one hold-your-nose bite. Cabbage, however, can go on forever!

Descended from the cruciferae family, brussels sprouts closely resemble their similarly forthright siblings: cabbage, cauliflower, broccoli and mustard. Cabbage is native to the Mediterranean region where it has been cultivated for more than 2,500 years. When brussels sprouts were first cultivated is up for debate—pick a date between the 5th and 17th centuries—but they grew abundantly in and around Brussels when they became popular in Europe. French settlers brought them to New Orleans in the 19th century. Today, all but two percent of the crop is grown on the mild California coast.

Cruciferae (meaning “cross-bearing”) are distinguished by the four petals of their flowers, which are reminiscent of a cross. In the case of brussels sprouts, they are immature buds that cling to a large stalk sporting a floppy crown of foliage, a sort of architectural whimsy à la Whoville. However weird and wonderful a vision they are, nothing changes the fact that brussels sprouts require a deft hand to temper their serious and sturdy nature and stop us—intrepid and reasonable diners in every other way—from recoiling in their presence. It all comes down to proper cooking.

The direct flavor and texture of brussels sprouts shine with a little coaxing and a minimum of cooking. The key is to keep water out of the equation. Sear, braise and roast them. Cut them to enhance unexpected nuances (sweetness) and textures (crispness). When halved or thinly sliced they absorb the sauces and dressings in which they are bathed. Or preserve the integrity of the sprout as a whole by removing the core by making a v-shaped cut. Grab both sides of the half and, with your thumbs on opposite sides of the core cut, bend the sprout to spread its leaves slightly and create more area for the flavorings to cling.

When I first cozied up to brussels sprouts, I roasted them—halved, tossed with olive oil and kosher salt, face down on a hot pan in a 450-degree oven for about 45 minutes. Now I like them braised, glazed, creamed and hashed. I partner them with bacon, cream, chanterelles and mustard. Sometimes I peel each tightly curled leaf from its compact globe. A quick sauté of the leaves in brown butter bullies the sprout into becoming a kinder, gentler version of itself.

Any of these preparations would win you over to my team.

Recipe for Brussels Sprouts with Bacon from Clyde Common

The Pleasures of Winter Squash

2007-10-01T19:27:00.000-07:00

Published Winter, 2007
Fresh Ideas magazine

Click to read