Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery

Maybe even when it's unintentional? The above dish is Rustichella D'Abruzzo pasta abruzzese in a light chicken stock/butter/thyme sauce with shredded chicken, diced carrots and red pepper, and minced parsley. I love Ructichella pasta (this is not a paid endorsement). It costs significantly more than my regular go-to dried pasta (De Cecco), although the difference in price has been less lately, but it's really at a hole notha level. The chicken was picked off of bones used to make stock from the parts of the chicken not used in the last post. After the stock simmered for a few hours the chicken meat was pretty tender, and it was easy to get neck, rib, and all sorts of other tasty tidbits of meat. It was good.

After making this I was looking at Luxe's menu online, only to see that they serve a pasta in a herbed chicken broth. I imagine theirs is prettier. Also, looks like they were ahead of one of my previous posts where I was biting off of a future CLE restaurant's menu. Such is life. I mean, what were the odds of me being ahead of this guy mentioning sunomono? These things happen.As for the second picture, that was more blatant than serendipitous. I haven't been to Tartine (yet), but after seeing the picture in this week's Scene (link will only work for a few more days I think) I had ratatouille on bread on the brain. So while the above may not be classic or photogenic it tasted good (I envy those folks who are eating at home during the early daytime--although to be fair I have it better than many--or have proper lights to take pictures by). It's toasted olive oil brushed bread and a mix of the following: sauteed red onion (Snake Hill Farm), very thinly sliced garlic (garden), peeled and chopped Louisiana long green eggplant (garden), diced carrot (Blissful Acres), roughly chopped peeled tomatoes (garden), and salt and pepper. It's topped with minced basil.

Taking a note from ratatouille experts I sauteed the stuff separately, kind of. First the onions went in a hot pan with a fair amount of olive oil and salt and pepper. Once soft I added the sliced garlic, gave a quick stir, and then removed the mix from the pan. Then I added more olive and sauteed the seasoned eggplant and carrots. Once those were soft I added in the roughly chopped tomatoes, more seasoning, and added back the onions and garlic. I cooked the tomato mixture down until it was somewhat jammy, spooned it onto the toast, added the basil, and enjoyed.

As for the taste, it's enough to mention that I ate spoonful after spoonful straight out of the pot. It was mild, but mild goodness. As for all the plagiarizing, next time I'll try to be a bit more creative. But I can't really say that's likely. I will, however, attribute.

Borrowing ideas

Banana pepper stuffed with veal, parsley, pine nuts, parmesan, garlic, salt, and pepper with a thin tomato sauce. Corn (off the bone to all you Cento frequenters), and toasted bread heels (for all those who are looking forward to The Greenhouse Tavern and have peeked at the posted menu).

Stuffed peppers. These took a few minutes to make, but I think it was worth it. First I roasted the peppers over an open gas flame to get the skin all charred and blistered (there are ways to do this sans gas). Then the charred peppers went into a bowl, which was covered with plastic wrap, and left to sit for a while. While the peppers were steaming from their own heat under the plastic, I chopped up some parsley, pine nuts (didn't even toast them first--what an amateur), and parmesan (chopped, not grated), and minced some garlic.

Once all that stuff was prepped I began removing the skin from the peppers. It's kind of relaxing, kind of tedious. After the skins were removed I cut the tops off the peppers, cut a slit along the sides, and scraped out some of the seeds and ribs. After the peppers were eviscerated I mixed all the non-pepper ingredients, along with salt and pepper, with the veal and began stuffing the peppers chile relleno style.

After the peppers were ready I got some tomato juice (leftover fluid after making a bunch of brushetta--it was basil infused) warmed up in a pan on the stove with some salt and set the oven to 425. The tomato juice had been in the fridge for a day, which was nice because I was able to skim off the water from the top and use just about pure juice for this. I placed the peppers in the juice filled pan (pictured below), and once it was simmering I placed the pan in the oven for about 10 minutes.

The banana peppers added some heat to this dish, and if one was heat adverse but still wanted something like this there are tons of options at the farmers markets. Thanks goes to Maybelle's Mom for getting stuffed vegetables on my brain. Hers were prettier.

The other stuff was simpler. The corn was super sweet, and it just took a quick saute in butter with some salt and pepper to make a really worthwhile vegetable side dish. I forgot how good corn can be. Even without the bone.

The bread was simple ends of baguettes (also part of yesterday's brushetta) that I doused in Spanish olive oil and placed in the 425 oven with the peppers (in a separate pan, of course). As noted above, I stole that idea, if it is possible to steal an idea from a restaurant that has not yet opened.

Sources: Corn and veal from Plum Creek at the Shaker Farmers Market. The bread was from the West Side Market--it was okay, but unremarkable. Olive oil from Mediterranean Imports at the WSM. Pine nuts from the West Side Food Co-op. Tomato juice, parsley, garlic, and peppers from St. Paul's patch, a small community garden on the near west side of Cleveland (I only grew the tomatoes and garlic for this one, the peppers and parsley were from other gardeners--we like to share). Raw milk butter from Stutzman Herdshare.

I'm not sure if this is 99.9% local (is that by weight?), but it was very tasty.

Fuss Free Food

Diced tomato (Roma and Jubilee), basil, and brie on toasted bread that had been drizzled with olive oil prior to being placed on a very hot ridged griddle. A little salt and pepper in with the tomatoes and basil and that's all it took. Could've rubbed the warm baguette slices with garlic before adding the cheese and tomatoes, it would have been nice, but why bother? Same with an extra drizzle of olive oil over the top--didn't do that either. Simple was good.

And why should the Italian's have the monopoly on cheese paired with tomato and basil? Despite their problems, the French have earned this much. Indeed, it's hard to imagine how conflicts over the past hundred years or so would have been different had France showed its artisanal spirit in them. Maybe that's what holding us warmongering types up in the food front--too busy with other stuff.

Anyway, too many questions. Perhaps the picture below will shed light on some of the answers.

The ever controversial raw milk. And The CFT, soon to be the proud owner of 1/40th of a cow.

Let's hope we don't get arrested.

Gazpacho with Scallop

Normally I'm not a gazpacho man. Sad, but true. But we're in the thick of summer, and when I came back from the garden with tomatoes, a green pepper (I'm letting the bulk of the bell peppers ripen further.), garlic, and cucumbers I just couldn't help myself. So I did what any self-respecting person who has eaten in Jaleo or Cafe Atlantico (mini bar technically, but close enough) would do and googled Jose Andres and gazpacho and then began pouring through the links. After reading this post I didn't have much of an interest in posting on the subject here. That one seemed just about perfect. But I couldn't help myself and here we are.

I kept it simple, with just the aforementioned ingredients and salt, pepper, a slice of bread (no crust), olive oil, and red wine vinegar. As tempting as it was to add a serrano and throw in some chopped basil, I just didn't have the heart--some things are sacred. The tomatoes were blanched and peeled, the cucumber skinned, and everything that could be was cut into chunks and went into the blender along with some extra water. After being blended and the seasonings adjusted it went through a strainer (the one pictured above) and chilled in the fridge.

Because I can't leave well enough alone, for serving I added one huge sea scallop I had picked up at Kate's Fish in the West Side Market. They were scaringly fresh, and all it took was some salt and pepper and a quick sear in some bacon fat (Surely a Spaniard would forgive the addition of scallop if it was cooked in pork fat?). Not quite cooked through, it went perfectly with the soup both right off the heat and also after being cooled down to soup temp in the fridge--I tried both ways. With a drizzle of olive oil, this will be a solid dish for summer company.

Not too rich a red--I used a lot of cucumber.

A Local Lunch

Freshly dug potatoes and harvested cabbage along with some Plum Creek humanely raised veal cutlets. A nice, simple lunch.

I rarely order veal at restaurants. Even with ethical stuff out there, I usually pass and go with other meats. But I love Plum Creek, a farm in Valley City about 45 min outside of Cleveland, and I reference it all the time--usually regarding eggs and poultry. After visiting the farm a few weeks ago, learning that it's been in their family since the early 1800s, and seeing how they're keeping it going (and grabbing a drink up the street at the Jump'n Frog), it's been nice to stop by their stand at the Market and chat. (That's not to say that I hadn't been bugging them at their stands at two of our local farmers markets for the past 2 years.) Once at their Shaker stand, it doesn't take long for Amie's dad, who's responsible for the farm's dairy and the veal, to make sure you don't forget that they have veal for sale. I've stayed strong for a while, politely declining the meat, but this time he made me a deal I couldn't refuse. So I took the frozen (sometimes it's available fresh) cutlets home and thought about them for day. Saturday turned to Sunday, the veal thawed, and this is what I came up with.

The veal cutlets were given a standard coating. First, they were patted dry and seasoned with salt and pepper. Then a quick dip in AP flour, followed by a swim in a beaten egg from the same farm (Which is interesting in context--at the farm the chickens seemed to love hanging out with the baby cows that were nursing on their mom. Little did they likely know they would sort of meet again on a plate.), and then another dip in Country Gristmill cornmeal. The coated veal was briefly (very briefly) sauteed in a mix of about 3 parts canola oil to 1 part butter. They then rested on a paper towel until being served.

And the sides, much less exciting, but still very good. For the garden potatoes it was easy. Dug this morning, cooking them was all about doing no harm. All it took was a quick steam followed by a light dusting of salt. They were rich enough on their own that butter was unnecessary.

The cabbage didn't require much work either. Just a quick saute in olive oil with salt and pepper. No caramelization, no covering and letting it cook down, nothing special. Just lightly sauteed cabbage that was flavorful, tender, and crisp.

This lunch made me happy. A squirt of lemon juice may have been a nice addition, but lacking that I just put a small piece of butter on the still warm veal. That's all the sauce that was necessary (although I wouldn't have pushed a ladleful of veal stock off the plate).

Folks around here are big on the connection from farm to table. It doesn't get much more connected than this.

And I didn't only harvest potatoes this morning:

When is this guy going to run out of tortillas?

Never, I'm afraid. They're just too convenient. Pictured above are tacos with a classic combination of blanched green beans and potatoes--the beans from the garden and the potatoes, Yukon Golds, from the Market. The mix is normally found in enchiladas or tamales, but I just didn't have the patience to defrost some of the wonderful Sonoran style enchilada sauce my (soon to be ex) next door neighbor made for me almost a year ago. And tamales, despite a deep curiosity and love of Mexican cooking, the ones available at Orale in the West Side Market are just too good to justify me bumbling through making them myself (although I have been looking for an excuse to buy a tub of lard at one of the local Mexican grocery stores).

In addition to the potatoes and beans I included some blanched and chopped early cabbage and sliced green serrano pepper, both also from the garden, grated raw cheddar from the Market, a few splashes of Tapatio, and some creme fraiche. Not much visible color contrast, but it was delicious nonetheless.

And the cucumber salad--my take on sunomono I've enjoyed at Japanese restaurants. Here it's just a diced, seeded garden cucumber (marketmore), salt, pepper, and white wine vinegar. It marinated for a few minutes and was refreshing in its simplicity.

Bean counting

Bean sorting, more accurately. Haricot vert of varying sizes. Some as small as a thumbnail, others as long as a pencil. Such is the problem of having a job--it's tough to harvest green beans as they're ready. So, in addition to getting some of them when they're just right I also wind up picking some large and some small.

Now to eat them. The super-minis are great to snack on raw. For the large ones it will likely be a cold soup like a vichyssoise, except with the beans subbing for the leeks, and maybe some onions added for good measure. And for the two piles of wonderfully sized beans, they'll be blanched and used all sorts of ways--as a side, in a salad, in lieu of a salad, etc. I hope they reappear here in their various guises.

As for that basil in the glass in the background, I haven't found a better way to store the stuff than exactly like a vase of fresh cut flowers. On the stem with the stems in water, kept in a shady spot. Sometimes this method works so well that the basil will sprout roots.

If you send it, I will eat it (and post about it), probably

Or, how I am happily pimping The CFT for 1 kilo of cheese (brie, specifically) while being all about disclosure and transparency. It started like this:

Hello,

While looking for blogs on food, wine and cheese I came across your website and found it very interesting. I’m contacting you on behalf of Ile de France, a French cheese importing company . . . .

First I was flattered, then intrigued, then thought it was a scam, and then intrigued again. So I followed up on the comment and, as promised, UPS showed up with my cheese. The box (nice and reusable):
The cheese:
And the catch:

. . . just remember that you need to mention the source and place a link to our website.

To get that out of the way, it's from Ile De France, and here's their website.

The first thing I did after getting the package was eat the majority of one of the wedges on crackers. Very good, especially once it warmed up to room temp.

I got to work on the rest of the wedge at dinner time. The pork is from Country Gristmill, local Amish farmers. It's good pork. I took a boneless chop (normally I go with bone in, but that's what I saw first at the Market), cut a slit in it, and jam packed it with a slivers of the brie and some basil leaves. After patting the stuffed pork dry with a paper towel, I seasoned it with salt and pepper and seared it in a little canola oil. The chop then went in a 450 oven until it was cooked med. rare/med. No need to brine the pork here, as masking the porkyness would be a shame. The rendered fat on the chop and the velvety melted cheese melded great, especially with the basil adding some freshness.

The potatoes are some local red potatoes, cooked and mashed with the skin and some fresh garlic (the garlic was boiled with the potatoes). As I was mashing them I added the remainder of the brie wedge, some cream, summer savory, butter, and salt and pepper. It worked very will with . . .

The broccoli, which was simply steamed with a little butter and salt and pepper on top. Combined with the potatoes it was like a a nice take on broccoli with cheese sauce. Even though I harvested the broccoli a day or two too late, it still beats the grocery store.

And the broken sauce was just some port cooked down in the pork pan with some butter added at the end. It may not be pretty, but it contributed. And with no stock on hand it was the best I could come up with.

So that's it. I must admit that I was ready to rip on the cheese. Honestly, I wanted to rip on the cheese, and had even thought about some choice words before receiving it. It's from a big producer that overflows the internet with videos and annoying product placements and chef endorsements. But it was very good. Not the most gooey, transcendent cheese I've ever had, and the packaging smacks of mass production, but still, very good. The bottom line for me is that if I'm at a grocery store and need a snack, I'd consider getting a wedge of this along with a baguette (Soon I hope to do a blind taste test with this and other grocery store double creams, along with one "artisan" variety, to see how things stack up--I'll post the results if I do it.). I'd even unabashedly put a wedge of the Ile De France on an after dinner cheese plate . . . at least until we start producing some brie style cheese around here.

And here's a gratuitous meat shot:

Quick summer squash (zucchini) pasta

Simple summer pasta for when there's an abundance of basil and squash. Not a bad problem to have (at least as far as the basil goes). This squash was from a start I picked up at the the Crown Point Ecology Center's plant sale. It's a Costata Romanesca Summer Squash, an Italian heirloom. The plants are big, the yield average, and the taste great. It also holds up well in cooking (I might try a curry with the next one). If you like summer squash, and don't want to be buried in them to the point where the neighbors run into the house when they see you headed their way with your bounty, this variety might be a good choice. Just get some seeds before the breeders ruin it.

Ingredients:
- Squash, cut into half moons
- Pasta (here from Ohio City Pasta)
- Bacon (I used some from a vendor at the Market who seems to specialize in lamb--very good lamb. It shocks me how different everyone's bacon is, even if most of them are using happy heritage pigs.)
- Basil, sliced up
- Thyme, taken off the branch
- Salt and Pepper
- Parmesan (optional, like everything else)

Method:
- Cook pasta like normal (in heavily salted water)
- While the water is getting ready for the pasta cook bacon until crispy
- Once bacon is crispy remove and cook the squash in the bacon grease with salt, pepper, and thyme (the squash is more caramelized than it looks)
- When pasta is ready add it along with the (crumbled) bacon to the now cooked squash in the thyme/bacon grease mixture
- Give everything a quick toss and top with lots of basil
- Add some cheese if you'd like and enjoy

Couldn't come together much quicker, especially with fresh pasta. As long as the pasta is damp when added to the squash there's no need for additional liquid. But I saved some pasta water just in case.

A ceviche like no other?

Hog snapper, diced beets, early garlic, cilantro, lime and lemon juice, salt and pepper, a dash of Tapatio.

You can see the acid starting to cook the fish. I love ceviche, and usually go with shrimp in a mix including tomato, red onion, and chilies. But I used what was around, and it was very enjoyable.

And, Ms. Ohio Mom, here you go. While I'm normally not a chain mail kind of guy, I'm no Spice Hound either:

From Cooking in Cleveland . . .
The rules are as follows:
1. Link to the person who tagged you.
2. Post the rules on the blog.
3. Write six random things about yourself.
4. Tag six people at the end of your post.
5. Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up.

Randomly me ....
1. I just bought a house because it has 3 peach trees in the backyard
2. I miss watching local professional ice hockey
3. One of my guilty pleasures is the Taco Bell 7 Layer Burrito with 2 (or 3) fire sauce packets
4. While I love hot dogs with mustard, and even the Chicago dog, the smell of ketchup on hot dogs makes me a bit nauseous
5. My dream as a child was to be a short order greasy spoon chef (The dream lives on.)
6. I'm not sure I'm ready to tag six people, but I may be soon

Liver (with onions)

Damn Rule #30, this really is liver with onions (see the picture below). It's pretty good stuff. Loosely adapted from The Silver Spoon, here it is:

Ingredients:
- Chicken livers (Here 6 from Plum Creek--they couldn't be fresher, and the farm is idyllic)
- Onion, rough dice (I used the short side of half an onion)
- Sage (a truly hardy perennial around here)
- Port, not too much (scant half cup)
- Vinegar (Red wine)
- Egg yolks (Also from Plum Creek, 2 of them here. An equal amount of cream would have worked too.)
- Sage, torn into pieces
- Lemon juice (Doesn't take much.)
- Salt and pepper
- Olive oil
- Baguette (from Zoss the Swiss Baker)
- Fat (For sauteing. I used bacon fat.)

Method:
- Cook onions with a bit of salt in bacon fat until soft
- While onions are cooking dip cleaned livers (these came pretty clean) in vinegar and pat dry
- Once onions are soft add livers and most of the sage along with the port and salt and pepper
- Cook until livers get some color and port reduces
- Remove livers from pan, keeping the pan on the heat with the onions and port cooking down
- Chop livers (which should be medium rare/rare) and then add them back to the pan until just cooked through
- While chopped livers are finishing cooking, mix egg yolks with lemon juice in a separate bowl
- Once livers are just cooked, place them in a food processor (or mash up if you did a better job than me with the onion dice)
- Puree (or smash) livers, and then add some of the still very warm liver mixture to the egg yolks and lemon juice
- Place the rest of the puree in a bowl, and add the egg yolk/lemon juice/some liver mixture to the rest of the puree and stir well
- Let the mix sit for a short bit while you drizzle slices of baguette with olive oil
- Toast baguette slices (I used the grill side of a cast iron griddle.)
- Scoop some liver mix on a baguette slice, garnish with some sage, and serve

I enjoyed this, and frankly I may have overindulged. It was like returning to Montreal, where livers of all sort seem to fall from the sky.

Just look at the hot mess below:

What to do with all those beets?

Shredded beets and carrots, minced onions, cilantro, lemon juice, and salt. The Chioggia beet is from the garden and is pictured below (as promised nearly a year ago). The cilantro and carrots are from Rootstown Organic Farm. The recipe came from Monica, the lady who runs Muddy Fork Farm, a transplant to Wayne County, Ohio from Cali, Columbia. She says this is a common first course in her area of Columbia. I can see why.

I used a Japanese Mandoline for the beets, and was first concerned that I should have gone for a finer julienne (it's easy enough to switch blades), but this worked out well. With a beet like this one, i.e. one that does not bleed red all over the place, I think this salad could be made ahead of time and left to sit in fridge until you're ready for it. Nice and cold, it's ridiculously refreshing. But just because I can't leave anything alone, I'll probably add chilies the next time I make this.

The True Baked Alaskan

As a guy who once lost a lady to a fellow from Kodiak Island, it may be surprising that I happily eat so much food from up that way. Maybe it's therapeutic? It's certainly tasty.

Roasted Alaskan would be a more appropriate name for the halibut (purchased at the usual place). It was seasoned and then went onto a hot, butter greased cast iron griddle in a 425 oven. A small frond of fennel (a little bigger than the one in the soup) was placed between the griddle and the fish skin, and another fennel frond was laid atop the fillet for roasting. 10 min, give or take, and it was perfect.

On top of the fish is some caramelized fennel (idea courtesy of Bar Cento), done up just like onions. A fennel bulb was sliced and then slow cooked in some butter with a pinch of salt. I'll be making them lots more, as it's a great alternative to caramelized onions.. The fennel was from Salash Farm over at the Shaker Market. They have great stuff, early.

The carrots were cooked in more butter. Slow cooked over a low flame in a covered omelet pan with a leaf of sage in there for some flavoring. They were great little carrots, from Rootstown Organic Farm.

And the soup. My take on vichyssoise (idea kind of stolen from a Plated Landscape Dinner). Lots of garden stuff in there. I peeled and cubed some potatoes (not quite yet from my garden), covered them by about an inch with water, added some salt and boiled until they were getting soft. Then I threw in some sugar snaps from the garden along with some chopped stems from the fennel (so the fronds, stems, and bulb were used--very full circle). Two minutes or so went by and I added arugula and mint (both also from the garden). About another two minutes and then everything went into a blender with just a touch of creme fraiche (could have been omitted) and aggressively seasoned with salt and pepper. It was enjoyable hot and cold. It's a good, simple soup, and infinitely adaptable.

Also, great music again on Case radio -- Latin Perspectives. Good stuff.

Steak and Potatoes

I'm getting boring in my old age. Here's the proof along with a dull post. A nice piece of pastured rib eye (Millgate Farm), alongside some goat cheese (Mackenzie Creamery) creme fraiche and roasted shallot fortified mashed potatoes, and an oyster mushroom (Killbuck Valley) pancetta and sweet onion mixture. There was a pan sauce too, and it was pretty good--shallot, white wine, butter, and a touch of the creme fraiche. It went well with everything.

And an heirloom lettuce salad, organic from the yard, complete with all its insect damage. Coated lightly with extra virgin olive oil, balsamic vinegar, salt, and pepper, it was lovely in its imperfection.

Soft Shelled Crab Sandwich

Two things first. One, if you don't like looking at live (and dead) animals about to be eaten, don't scroll down. Two, while I'm sure the tastes are not comparable, this sandwich is a hell of a lot easier to make than this one. Still, the one above is tasty, and remarkably easy to eat if the sandwich is cut in half.

Nothing fancy here, just a tried and true method for some good soft shelled crab. First the crab is cleaned (kind of pictured below). Then, while a wok is heating up over full flame, a flour mixture is made consisting of white flour, old bay (a good amount), salt, and pepper. A small pool of high-heat safe oil is added to the hot wok (I used canola) and then the cleaned crab gets thoroughly covered in the seasoned flour. Into the wok it goes (might want to wear an apron--it sometimes splatters), cooked until it's done. This is not one of those things you want to be right on top of watching it cook or you may take a hit of molten crab insides.

And while the bread is normal, the lettuce is kind of special. Not purposefully in honor of one of Cleveland's favorite chefs who's headed to Terra Madre this fall (in the land of espresso and Barolo), the lettuce is a mix of Amish Deer Tongue, Grandpa Admirer's, and Tennis Ball from a Slow Food Ark of Taste pack of lettuce starts picked up at a great little organic plant sale at the absolutely amazing Crown Point Ecology Center in Akron (I always suspected Akron of being hipper than it admits. See also Mo' Mojo Mama Band.). Despite the heat, in partial shade and with all the rain we've been having these plants are thriving.

For sauce, a little mayo mixed with shallots and Frank's RedHot. There are few quasi-natural hot sauces I don't like, but I always go back to Frank's for American food and Tapatio for Mexican. Probably a result of growing up in the East and cutting my teeth out West.

Those things in the back--my first decent bunch of sugar snaps this season. Cooked in the wok with a little oil, water, salt, and pepper. Once the water cooked off they were just barely steamed and then started to get crispy in the oil.

Finally, tunes to cook by (an homage to the first link in this post). John E. Midnight's Dig Baby Dig! The 60s Rock and Roll Excavation. One town, three college radio stations. It generally works out well.

Hopefully that all took up enough space so it's up to you whether you want to look further. It's not bad, but I know at least one person who'd rather not see the carnage.

Alive and kicking, from Kate's at the West Side Market (Ask Eric, behind the counter, to help you. He's not just there for his looks.):
Cleaned crab. On the right, from top to bottom, gills, face, and apron.

Simple Salad

Fresh asparagus, old cheese. This was quick and easy, with a vinaigrette very loosely based on the one that this guy served during Sunday's plated landscape dinner. The main ingredients are blanched Muddy Fork Farm Asparagus, French Breakfast Radishes, and Parmesan Cheese (that has seen better days). I meant to include to some cracked herb seeds (fennel, coriander, cardamom, or whatever) as some folks have been known to do around here. It adds an extra dimension and some more crunch, but the absence was no big deal.

The vinaigrette was a bit more involved. In order of amount it included olive oil; white wine vinegar; Plum Creek egg yolk (as per the Sunday dinner and this); local maple syrup; white miso; Dijon mustard; minced shallot, salt, and pepper. It all went into a mini-mason jar for a quick shake to emulsify and that was it. Since egg goes so well with asparagus, I was itching to make a dressing with egg yolk, and the asparagus has been flowing like water, this was bound to happen.

It's hot outside

Pretty gross, in fact. Hot weather calls for hot food, as the folks in in the Caribbean, India, Mexico, and a whole bunch of other steamy places seem to have figured out. There's nothing fancy about this bowl of soup, but I had the ingredients laying around and it satisfied a craving.

Ingredients:
-Water
-Onions, cut pole to pole and sliced (they randomly sprouted up in the community garden)
-Radishes, cut into batons (Shaker Farmers Market)
-Red Mizuna, chopped (")
-Brown Oyster Mushrooms, chopped (", Killbuck Valley)
-Asparagus, cut into large pieces and sliced in half (", Muddy Fork Farm)
-Dried Chiles de Arbol (seeds removed and broken up in pieces)
-Chili Oil
-Pancetta, sliced thin
-Mint, sliced thinly (feral in the community garden)
-Salt
-Pepper
-Bragg Liquid Aminos (I was out of soy sauce)

Method:
-Put water on the boil
-Add chiles, chili oil, pancetta, and onion
-Once that's simmering add radishes, then mushrooms and asparagus as you feel they'll cook to your liking (there's a fair margin of error)
- Add mizuna shortly before taking off the heat
- Season with salt, pepper, and Bragg's (or soy sauce)
- Add mint to the bowls of soup (can also add sriracha if it's not hot enough)

Not much else to it. The flavor is good, but I'd like to try it with some other cuts of meat and flavoring to keep things fresh.

This week will likely be light on postings. Tonight, it's a plated landscape dinner at the aforementioned Muddy Fork Farm, some happy hour treats tomorrow, a Wednesday dinner with a few friends hosted by Cleveland's local food guru, and Friday a dinner prepared by some Thai exchange students (who are hopefully used to the heat). I know, it's a tough life. Unfortunately I'll have to squeeze some work in there somewhere.

The best of two coasts

The Alaskan coast, and the North Coast (aka Cleveland).

First Alaska. Pan Seared Halibut Cheeks, Copper River King Salmon, and a Smoked Copper River Sockeye Collar (I also had a broiled collar, but forgot to put it on the plate. It was the fish equivalent to the best chicken wing ever.). The fish came from Kate's at Cleveland's West Side Market. While the Copper River Sockeye was first rate, the King was truly special. After being gutted (or "processed," as the euphemism goes) on the boat pre-rigor, the fish are iced and quickly sent to Cleveland, where Tom the fishmonger picks them up at the airport. I don't think fresher, or as high quality, Copper River Salmon are available anywhere else in the area (although one restaurant in town has been known to get its fish from the same Alaskan). It's not cheap, but a little goes a long way. It was difficult for me to spot eating it sashimi style, but I could think of worse habits.

Next, the North Coast. Most of the non-fish things on the plate came from The Shaker Square Farmer's Market. The mayo is homemade with a Plum Creek Egg Yolk, Shallots from a Vendor whose name I don't remember (they're the only one currently selling shallots), Frank's RedHot, Organic Canola Oil, Organic Spanish Olive Oil, Kosher Salt, ground Urban Herbs Tellicherry Pepper, Red Wine Vinegar and some generic Dijon Mustard. It's been said here before, but it's worth saying again, making mayonnaise is very easy.

Between the cheeks and the collar is a vegetable medley. Starting in the order things went into the pan are: diced Parker's Pancetta, sliced immature and super sweet Onions that volunteered in the community garden, sliced Killbuck Valley Brown Oyster Mushrooms, Sage Leaves from the community garden (an overwintered plant was too huge for its own good), chopped Muddy Fork Farm Asparagus, and some salt and pepper. With the rendered pancetta fat and the moisture in the mushrooms there was no need to add any liquid. Cooked over low heat the entire time, it was very ratatouille like.

Between the cheeks and King there's sauteed red and green Mizuna. All that was added to the wet-from-cleaning leaves was salt and pepper. They were sauteed in just a bit of toasted sesame oil. I don't remember the name of the farm they were from either, but hopefully I'll be growing some soon from their starts.

There's also a sliced radish from the same folks who supplied the shallots.

The flowers in the background are from Blissful Acres. If I ever needed to be part of a CSA I'd give them a call (Maybe Muddy Fork too). Blissful Acres also supplied the the original "seed" that led to the second part of this post. I'm no longer in the plot where I grew those, but the Jerusalem Artichokes must not have gotten the message that someone else was gardening there because they self seeded and are growing better than if I had planted them for a second season on purpose.

Really good stuff using the best of what can be found around here, both produced and brought in. Hopefully we'll get some good starches soon.

Kind of looks like a Seder plate:

Mizuna starting to cook:

Garden season . . .

. . . is upon us. It's hard to believe the last frost date around here (May 16, they say) is still over two weeks away. Pictured above is my take on, and a lazy version of, French intensive gardening. There's quite a bit of room for improvement, but if you look close you can see the tomato growing method that this blog is named after.

The picture was taken in early July (I think) last year. While this season's sugar snaps are already above ground, and beets and radishes have been sown, it'll be a while before we're into July. But it's coming.

That's my garden

St. Paul's Patch. We're in Cleveland, and we're special (click on link to see why). Is there a better use for blighted land?

More food posts in the near future.