Chicago.
I have a hunch that I'll be hard-pressed to win any recipe contests like REAP's again, for one simple reason: my recipes are way too complicated. I've come to this conclusion after reviewing the winners from the 2006 Food For Thought Recipe Contest. As you'd expect, it's an interesting and well-varied collection of recipes highlighting local foods, and I really like that the "Ethnic Heritage" category produced some ideas from outside my realm of experience.
Note, however, that the recipes involve four or fewer steps, even with the occasional long list of ingredients. (The one exception is a "Kids Category" recipe, and step number five is basically "Slice and enjoy.") Then take a look at my recipes. There are no fewer than six to any of mine, and as many as eleven separate steps in one case. And these were the simpler recipes I'd come up with. If I'd come up with something akin to the stuffed peppers1, I'm sure it would have been much more complicated, involving a sauce, batter for deep-frying, an accompanying starch or pickles, or something like that. No doubt I'd want to include slow-roasting in the oven, or cold-smoking2, or something else wildly labor- or time-intensive. Like sausage-making or air-drying cured meats.
I really did try to simplify things. I swear.
Honestly, I doubt that this will have any impact on my cooking, or the recipes I submit for future contests.3 My cooking doesn't change suddenly, impacted by some external event. It evolves, adapting to new ideas4 and jettisoning old ones5 that aren't necessary any longer. I'd like to think it's improving.
* * * * *
1In better years, when we've had plenty of poblano peppers, chiles rellenos are a great little summer dish from our kitchen. This summer, though, we didn't get much of anything from the poblano plants in the garden, and they didn't seem to inundate the market like I remember.
2Those recipe ideas didn't make the cut, obviously. "Step 1. Ask the nice folks at the hardware store if they have any extra cardboard boxes..."
3Note the winner from California. I can still enter the REAP contest long after I've left Madison. I suppose I'd need to donate any winnings to someone local who can actually make use of them, though.
4Sausage-making and cold-smoking have been recent additions to the fold. They haven't ushered in any dramatic changes, but rather become complementary. I think of sausages as a meat plus the sauce or sides I'd want to serve alongside, in a more convenient, grillable form. Cold-smoking is just a way to get smoky flavor in where it was nigh impossible before.
5These days, I can't use a microwave to save my life.
28 September 2006
25 September 2006
Big dinner success!
Chicago.
The big dinner at Fountain Prairie - along with the accompanying time at the farm - was a great success. John Priske asked that I write up a post to detail the local food emphasis, and that should be up at some point over the weekend. If Emily and Kendra give me permission to upload some of their photos, I'll include those, as well. Given the breadth and depth it'll take to really discuss the weekend - from the planning to the meal to my thoughts on room for improvement - I expect to write up several posts, each focusing on different aspects.
Before then, though, a few miscellaneous observations from it all:
The big dinner at Fountain Prairie - along with the accompanying time at the farm - was a great success. John Priske asked that I write up a post to detail the local food emphasis, and that should be up at some point over the weekend. If Emily and Kendra give me permission to upload some of their photos, I'll include those, as well. Given the breadth and depth it'll take to really discuss the weekend - from the planning to the meal to my thoughts on room for improvement - I expect to write up several posts, each focusing on different aspects.
Before then, though, a few miscellaneous observations from it all:
- Pancakes with maple syrup and sour cream are a wonderful thing. I've enjoyed sour cream on potato pancakes before, but this particular combination never occurred to me.
- Though part of it may have been my sheer exhaustion - Saturday was a very long day, right on the heels of some other long days and short nights - the bed at Fountain Prairie was unbelievably comfortable. It was so soft and enveloping, I sank in and passed out.
- When searching for the perfect sandwich, an excellent reference is the BLT. I'll discuss this more in-depth in a later post, but a well-made BLT is all about balance, and that's a crucial, oft-overlooked aspect of sandwich construction.
- My friends are an extraordinarily helpful bunch, and I'm very grateful. Special thanks to those who tackled the mounds of dishes until the wee hours of the morning while I was plunked down at the table, too tired to be useful.
13 September 2006
Mangia! Mangia!
Chicago.
Yet another great use for brebis, from the LA Times. Personally, I'm a big fan of the strawberry-brebis combination, though I'll bet that sour cherries - or even cranberries - would match well. Of course, they're all available locally1 and well worth testing out.
Speaking of the glories of local food, tonight is REAP's Local Night Out. It's part of the Food For Thought Festival festivities, most of which'll be taking place on MLK Boulevard Saturday morning. It looks like a good mix of restaurants taking part this year, ranging from Roman Candle pizza to L'Etoile's elegant French cuisine2. The gimmick, in line with REAP's local food emphasis, is to have local restaurants celebrate local food. It was fun last year, even if Sharon and I got to Roman Candle after they'd sold out of most of the night's specials. If you can go, go early.
While I'm at it... L'Etoile has been making a serious effort to showcase their producers through a series of special dinners. Willow Creek pork, Fountain Prairie beef, and now a vegetarian dinner paired with wines from California's Central Coast region3. And Braise, which isn't a restaurant yet4, will be catering a special five-course dinner at Fountain Prairie. A few weeks ago, there'd been one at JenEhr Family Farm, as well.
And on top of all of this, it's a mere week and a half until the eleven-course dinner5 at Fountain Prairie. Will everything be ready?6 Will it all come out as planned?7 At the very least, will everyone have a good time?8 I guess we'll see.
* * * * *
1In Madison, that is. Perhaps in Chicago, though getting fresh, local food takes much more effort in the city.
2What I wonder is this: is Tory doing anything different from usual?
3I know there were others. I just can't recall them.
4My understanding is that a series of complications - including a building lease that fell through - have kept chef David Swanson from actually having a bricks-and-mortar setup just yet.
5Still not revealing the menu, which is still in a bit of flux. Should be 99% of the way there this weekend, though.
6Given the amount of effort going into early preparations, it had better be. I'll be ready for free time again once the dinner's over.
7Probably not. Something always goes wrong, usually last minute. Not that this is necessarily a problem, but it's something I've come to expect when I take on complicated tasks.
8They'd better, damn it.
Yet another great use for brebis, from the LA Times. Personally, I'm a big fan of the strawberry-brebis combination, though I'll bet that sour cherries - or even cranberries - would match well. Of course, they're all available locally1 and well worth testing out.
Speaking of the glories of local food, tonight is REAP's Local Night Out. It's part of the Food For Thought Festival festivities, most of which'll be taking place on MLK Boulevard Saturday morning. It looks like a good mix of restaurants taking part this year, ranging from Roman Candle pizza to L'Etoile's elegant French cuisine2. The gimmick, in line with REAP's local food emphasis, is to have local restaurants celebrate local food. It was fun last year, even if Sharon and I got to Roman Candle after they'd sold out of most of the night's specials. If you can go, go early.
While I'm at it... L'Etoile has been making a serious effort to showcase their producers through a series of special dinners. Willow Creek pork, Fountain Prairie beef, and now a vegetarian dinner paired with wines from California's Central Coast region3. And Braise, which isn't a restaurant yet4, will be catering a special five-course dinner at Fountain Prairie. A few weeks ago, there'd been one at JenEhr Family Farm, as well.
And on top of all of this, it's a mere week and a half until the eleven-course dinner5 at Fountain Prairie. Will everything be ready?6 Will it all come out as planned?7 At the very least, will everyone have a good time?8 I guess we'll see.
* * * * *
1In Madison, that is. Perhaps in Chicago, though getting fresh, local food takes much more effort in the city.
2What I wonder is this: is Tory doing anything different from usual?
3I know there were others. I just can't recall them.
4My understanding is that a series of complications - including a building lease that fell through - have kept chef David Swanson from actually having a bricks-and-mortar setup just yet.
5Still not revealing the menu, which is still in a bit of flux. Should be 99% of the way there this weekend, though.
6Given the amount of effort going into early preparations, it had better be. I'll be ready for free time again once the dinner's over.
7Probably not. Something always goes wrong, usually last minute. Not that this is necessarily a problem, but it's something I've come to expect when I take on complicated tasks.
8They'd better, damn it.
04 September 2006
I blame the puppies for brain failure.
Madison.
Emily and I went raspberry-picking on Sunday, and I pretty much determined that I'll leave my head behind if someone's not there to point it out to me.
With our spouses gone for the weekend, we decided to get together and head down to Blue Skies Farm for some fresh, organic raspberries. This being Labor Day weekend, Paul and Louise recommended that all pickers go early - they open at 8:30 am - because the combination of time off and peak raspberry season means the plants'll be picked clean by noon, if not earlier. We arrived about 8:45, before anyone else, and couldn't find anyone about, so we just started picking.
Actually, we first started playing with the puppies. Six-week-old puppies and their friendly, but exhausted, mother. It turns out that Paul and Louise were off fetching puppy food - they're in the process of shifting them to solid food - and the dogs were thrilled to jump all over us, nipping and wrestling and trying to eat my shoelaces. They couldn't seem to hold still, though they didn't mind being picked up at all. If they weren't all spoken for, I'd've been sorely tempted to bring one home.1
The farm itself is both lovely and tiny. At a mere 2-1/2 acres, I'm sure it's smaller than some of the larger private lots around Madison, but far more wonderful. Since we were unsure of wandering into the berry patch at first, we peeked around the hoophouses and barn first, just to see if anyone was around. Emily noted, with relief, that their tomato plants are just as rambunctious and wild as hers are by this time of year. Mine, too. From there, we walked through the herb garden, intensely perfumed with basil and fennel, stopped to visit the puppies, and set out into the raspberry patch.
Of the three types of raspberries they grow - red, orange and yellow - the red are the first to ripen, and the easiest to pick because their ripeness is so visually apparent. The orange ones aren't so bad, though they're the smallest of the three sizes, and thus take the most to fill a pint. The yellows, however, hardly change color from greenish-unripe to pale-yellow-ripe, but make up for it with a large size and a crisp acidity that's a neat contrast from the usual berry richness. All in all, the two of us picked twenty pints, which amounted to six reds, two oranges and two yellows each. Louise teased us, saying she'd hoped we were going to pick the fields clean for them.2
Then we managed to leave three pints there. Not paying attention before we left, it wasn't until we started to divvy up our haul in the parking lot of my apartment that this became apparent. So, after dropping Emily at home, I made the trek back down to Brooklyn. Fortunately, the extra pints were still sitting in the farm's cooler, so it was easily remedied.3
Now, you'd think I'd take this opportunity to reflect on the fact that I'd been having a forgetful day, and pause a moment to consider anything else I might have forgotten. But, no. I proceeded to leave my jacket there, out in the field, to be rained upon all night long. It's been found, is hanging up in the barn, and I'll have to think of how to thank Paul and Louise for bringing it back to me at Saturday's market.
* * * * *
1Sharon would want to kill me, until she saw how adorable they are. Every person there just about melted in their presence.
2Saves them the effort, so it's win-win. Assuming I could make use of that many berries at once.
3Paul was going to make up for it at the next market if someone else'd taken them home, but I'm relieved it didn't come to that. I don't want to take advantage of them because of my error. (Their error, either, which I don't consider this.)
Emily and I went raspberry-picking on Sunday, and I pretty much determined that I'll leave my head behind if someone's not there to point it out to me.
With our spouses gone for the weekend, we decided to get together and head down to Blue Skies Farm for some fresh, organic raspberries. This being Labor Day weekend, Paul and Louise recommended that all pickers go early - they open at 8:30 am - because the combination of time off and peak raspberry season means the plants'll be picked clean by noon, if not earlier. We arrived about 8:45, before anyone else, and couldn't find anyone about, so we just started picking.
Actually, we first started playing with the puppies. Six-week-old puppies and their friendly, but exhausted, mother. It turns out that Paul and Louise were off fetching puppy food - they're in the process of shifting them to solid food - and the dogs were thrilled to jump all over us, nipping and wrestling and trying to eat my shoelaces. They couldn't seem to hold still, though they didn't mind being picked up at all. If they weren't all spoken for, I'd've been sorely tempted to bring one home.1
The farm itself is both lovely and tiny. At a mere 2-1/2 acres, I'm sure it's smaller than some of the larger private lots around Madison, but far more wonderful. Since we were unsure of wandering into the berry patch at first, we peeked around the hoophouses and barn first, just to see if anyone was around. Emily noted, with relief, that their tomato plants are just as rambunctious and wild as hers are by this time of year. Mine, too. From there, we walked through the herb garden, intensely perfumed with basil and fennel, stopped to visit the puppies, and set out into the raspberry patch.
Of the three types of raspberries they grow - red, orange and yellow - the red are the first to ripen, and the easiest to pick because their ripeness is so visually apparent. The orange ones aren't so bad, though they're the smallest of the three sizes, and thus take the most to fill a pint. The yellows, however, hardly change color from greenish-unripe to pale-yellow-ripe, but make up for it with a large size and a crisp acidity that's a neat contrast from the usual berry richness. All in all, the two of us picked twenty pints, which amounted to six reds, two oranges and two yellows each. Louise teased us, saying she'd hoped we were going to pick the fields clean for them.2
Then we managed to leave three pints there. Not paying attention before we left, it wasn't until we started to divvy up our haul in the parking lot of my apartment that this became apparent. So, after dropping Emily at home, I made the trek back down to Brooklyn. Fortunately, the extra pints were still sitting in the farm's cooler, so it was easily remedied.3
Now, you'd think I'd take this opportunity to reflect on the fact that I'd been having a forgetful day, and pause a moment to consider anything else I might have forgotten. But, no. I proceeded to leave my jacket there, out in the field, to be rained upon all night long. It's been found, is hanging up in the barn, and I'll have to think of how to thank Paul and Louise for bringing it back to me at Saturday's market.
* * * * *
1Sharon would want to kill me, until she saw how adorable they are. Every person there just about melted in their presence.
2Saves them the effort, so it's win-win. Assuming I could make use of that many berries at once.
3Paul was going to make up for it at the next market if someone else'd taken them home, but I'm relieved it didn't come to that. I don't want to take advantage of them because of my error. (Their error, either, which I don't consider this.)
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