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.

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:

Eggs eye view

Or, breakfast for lovers of heat. This is a dish a friend of mine likes to have for breakfast when she's sick. It's a normal breakfast, but it'll clear the sinuses.

Eggs. Plum Creek eggs, Ohio Family Farms cream, Snake Hill Farm Siskiyou immature onions, dried chilis de arbol, garden basil, butter, and salt and Urban Herbs tellicherry pepper. I sauteed thinly sliced onion along chilis (seeded and pulled apart) in some butter with a little salt. Once the onions softened I added eggs that had been stirred to combine the whites, yolks, and a little cream to the pan. Stirring constantly, I cooked the eggs over low heat, adding some salt and ground pepper while they were cooking. Once everything was just about cooked (but still very soft), I added a little basil chiffonade. The basil brought out the best from the onions and chili, and generally made everything smell nice.

Potatoes. Small red potatoes from the Shaker Market, shallots from the same place, Parker's pancetta, underformed (green?) garlic from the garden, hot red pepper flakes, salt and pepper. I started by rendering small lardons of pancetta in a cast iron skillet. Once the pancetta was rendered I added cut up potatoes (with the skin still on), sliced shallot, pepper flakes, and salt and pepper. I put the whole pan in a 450 oven for a good ten minutes, and then under the broiler for about five more minutes. After the potatoes were cooked just about right I turned off the broiler and added smashed and minced garlic to the mix, stirred, and left the whole thing in the still very hot oven (with the heat off) for about five more minutes. Everything was crispy, but nothing was bitter.

And that was it. With some toast and tea it's a pretty acceptable breakfast that's ready to go in around half an hour.

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.

Tacos again?

If you're one of the two people who read this blog semi-regularly, you could have seen this coming. The clues were there. Extra corn tortillas from a few posts ago, and a protein heavy meal last post. Too bad there are already so many taco blogs (that last one is close enough).

Above is leftover Millgate Farm ribeye (diced and cooked with salt, pepper, and Bragg's), diced sweet onion, shredded arugula from the garden (we'll see if it's cut-and-come-again), and shredded Meadow Maid cheddar (picked up at the Shaker Farmer's Market, it's made from raw, organic, grass fed cow milk, and a fair deal at $5 a block). Before eating I added some creme fraiche (homemade from Ohio Organic Family Farms lightly pasteurized heavy cream--available at Country Gristmill at the Market--and a bit of my last batch that was made with Vermont Butter & Cheese Company creme fraiche, instead of buttermilk, as a starter) and Tapitio.

I love tacos.

And to go on the record for cheese on tacos. I used to not be for it, and secretly looked down on those who went heavy with the shredded cheese. To me a good taqueria taco has meat, some diced onion, and cilantro and is topped with a squeeze of lime and maybe some hot sauce. But I've been evolving. I still won't ask for a side of cheese at a taqueria (which isn't a problem around here because there's not really one worth discussing, even if Mi Pueblo, the West Side one, does in a pinch), but at home anything goes, especially with the inauthentic tacos I so enjoy. All that being said, I'm still not ready to shred Parmesan on my seafood pasta (but risottos are fair game).

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.

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:

Rethinking the taco

This is really just Part II from two posts back, and keeping with the using leftovers theme. Pictured is the leftover rabbit meat, diced and wok cooked with cumin, cayenne, salt, pepper, and a little soy sauce. Not being quite ready to harvest some of the homegrown lettuce, I chopped up some mizuna that was kicking around. After that, I shredded a few French Breakfast radishes for a topping (and to get some use out of the Japanese mandoline) and quartered one for a traditional garnish. The cheese is from raw cow milk, still hanging in the fridge from the trip up north. In that little silver cup is some creme fraiche thinned with just a bit of water. Doubled up corn tortillas from Super Mercado Rico at W45 and Lorain, a little Tapatio, and it was a truly satisfying meal.

I think tacos are one of the best uses of leftover proteins, or just about anything else (not much better than one with duck confit). Plus, they're versatile. No onions, use radishes. No cilantro, here it was mizuna. Cheese is always optional, hot sauce not so much. And anything sour cream-like absolves all sins. Now to get to work on the rest of the tortillas.

Linguini, Mizuna, and Pancetta

Standard dried pasta, organic Mizuna from the Shaker Square Farmers Market, and Parker's pancetta (The views expressed in the Parker link are not necessarily those of the author, but some of them may be.), and some grated Parmesan.

Couldn't be much simpler. As the pasta cooked diced pancetta rendered in a saute pan. After the pancetta was crispy it was removed with a slotted spoon to a paper towel. About half the fat was poured out of the pan then the greens, which are remarkably like kale (but better), were sauteed in the fat with some salt and pepper. Then the drained but wet pasta was added to the mizuna and the pancetta was put back in the mix. A little cheese and it was good to go.

Breakfast and Dinner

A noir picture of loosely scrambled Plum Creek eggs with garden chives, Country Gristmill heritage bacon, and English muffin with butter and rhubarb preserves.

And dinner:

Plum Creek Rabbit cooked with rosemary (you can see where I tasted a piece) on a bed of radish thinnings coated with olive oil, salt, and pepper; butter and sugar glazed French breakfast radishes; grocery store sweet potato. Ideas for the rabbit and the radishes came from The Silver Spoon.

Not much of a hack job. I'll never get a job at Kaufmann's.

Cleaning out the fridge

Half a dozen Plum Creek eggs, leftover troll caught King Salmon and asparagus, Farmers Market parsley, shredded Gre de champs and Valbert Vieux, a little 2% milk, and some salt and pepper. I consulted one of the finer food blogs around for frittata technique and got to work. I kept the oven at 425 (not 450), and just threw everything together in a pretty warm, buttered nonstick 8" pan. Once the eggs started settling I placed the pan in the hot oven. It firmed up in less than ten min.

Also on the plate are slices of a Frog Hollow Farm kiwi and some bread with the homemade rhubarb preserves from a few posts ago. A nice dinner, especially considering it was made with scraps.

Pork and Beans

Or Pancetta and Cannellini beans, courtesy of one of Cleveland's finest ex-restaurateurs. Happy West Virgina pork belly cured by Kris Kreiger over at Chef's Choice Meats. The beans are saved from a crop grown last year in the heart of Ohio City.

More carbonara? Not sure, I think the options are limitless. As for the beans, these are for growing, not eating. A little piece of Italy right here in Cleveland.

Tastes like . . . Oregon?

Fresh Snake Hill Farm asparagus, toll caught King Salmon from Kate's Fish (more from them below), and some Quinoa w/ dried apricots, both from the Westside food co-op.

The salmon was a piece from the midsection, and was so thick that half a pound was only around an inch wide across the top. To get decent looking portions with good surface area for searing (however lightly) I split the fish into belly and loin pieces, removed the skin from each of the two pieces, and then laid the pieces on their sides for cooking. Pictured above is the loin piece--the belly was just about the same thickness. If the skin was still on it would be along the edge of the fish piece towards the bottom of the picture. Hate to loose the skin, but for simple stove top cooking it was just easier to cook the fish on its side. Enough of that. It was a great fish with a smooth salmon flavor and buttery texture. Seasoned with salt and pepper and cooked to medium rare in a mix of butter and canola oil, there's not much better.

As for the asparagus, again, it's asparagus season, so I'm going to get as much of it as I can. Cooked the same way I usually do it. Regarding the side effects, you put up with what you have to. The stuff is worth it.

The Quinoa. A quick rinse and then one part quinoa to two parts water with a little salt and some chopped up dried apricots for good measure. Simmered covered for about 20 minutes, and left to rest covered for another five, and that's all there was to it. The apricots added a nice sweetness to quinoa.

No sauce with this meal. The salmon was rich enough. Still, a sauce would have looked nice.

And some rhubarb preserves. Straight out of The Silver Spoon Cookbook, one cup of sugar to each pound of rhubarb (straight from the community garden), let steep for two hours, and then the resulting mixture is poured into a pan for 30 min. of simmering (with lots of stirring) followed by an additional 5 min. of simmering with some grated orange zest (Here the zest was from a Frog Hollow nectarine? courtesy of Stuart--his Flicker pages are linked on the right.). It's a shame to go from beautiful stalks to a brown blob, but the taste (and preservation power) is worth it. Great with ice cream, maple syrup, and some crushed nuts.

While I associate salmon and rhubarb with the Northwest (where I first tried rhubarb pie--I know, I was raised in a bubble), this last picture is pure Great Lakes. In addition to the salmon, I got a whole Walleye from Kate's for a side project. I got the fish filleted and wasn't in need of the bones, just flesh that day (although I was hoping for eggs, but unfortunately he wasn't a she). After the fish was cleaned and the fillets bagged up, Tom, the friendliest fishmonger in the CLE, was considerate enough to make sure I didn't leave the best part behind. Below are the tiny and tasty Walleye cheeks, skin on, over more of the quinoa with some parsley grown by a wonderful Bosnian couple that sell some great stuff at the Shaker Market every week. Really a nice little appetizer.

Those Dutch people make good sauce

It may look like cheez whiz, but it's not. It's a hollandaise, and the rich color is a result of Plum Creek Poultry's incredible eggs (available at the Shaker Square and Crocker Park farmers markets) with their ridiculously vibrant yolks. Who would have thought pale yolks have their place? Either that or my technique's off, which is quite possible.

The steak is from MillGate Farms (if you're at the Crocker Market Farmstead Ltd. has great grass fed beef), and it's the other part of a porterhouse that yielded the strip steak from the last post. The asparagus is is also from the Market, and cooked the same way as described in the last post (if it ain't broke . . .). These spears were Morton's sized. If you're not familiar with that reference, I don't think you're missing out, but these were some seriously huge, and seriously good, asparagus spears.

All good ingredients, but it's kind of cheating to use a hollandaise. The stuff is too good. After I finished the pictured plate it took all of my limited self control to avoid eating the leftover sauce by the spoonful. Here's the recipe:

Ingredients:
- Egg yolks (I always use at least two--it's tricky with one. The whites freeze well.)
- Butter, pieces or melted (There are proper ratios, but I just stop adding butter when I like how it tastes. This was the previously mentioned French butter from The Cheese Shop at the West Side Market.)
- Water (you may want to thin the sauce--water works well)
- Salt and pepper
- Cayenne (just a little)
- Lemon juice, or, gasp!, vinegar (I used white wine vinegar here. Lemon juice is better, but no lemons over here today).

Method:
- I always make this in a home rigged double boiler. There are lots of other ways to make this sauce, but I've always had good luck this way.
- Bring a small pot of water to a slow simmer
- Whisk egg yolks in a stainless steel or glass bowl that will fit on top of the simmering pot (the bottom of the pan should not dip into the simmering water)
- Once yolks are whisked, place the bowl over the pot of hot water and whisk steadily until the eggs get a thicker consistency (It may be necessary to keep lifting the bowl off of the simmering water to prevent the eggs from scrambling. You may want to use a dish towel for handling the bowl. Scrambled eggs in a hollandaise is not good.)
- After the yolks have thickened start incorporating the butter piece by piece (or slowly pour in melted butter a little at a time)
- Keep whisking and don't let the eggs scramble. If using pieces of butter add a new piece just as the previous one is melting away.
- When the sauce is a good consistency and tastes about right butter-wise, season with salt and pepper, a little cayenne, and acid (citrus juice or vinegar) to taste--it doesn't take much
- That's it. It holds pretty well if kept over the pot of hot water with the flame turned off (just make sure to stir occasionally), although it may thicken up a bit after a while (just thin with water, remembering it's always easier to add more than to take extra out). It also keeps well on a stovetop that's hot from the oven being on.

It's not a tough sauce to make, and it looks much better in person.

Another angle (still looks like cheez whiz):

Asparagus is here

First asparagus of the season, available to all those who braved the rain and made it to the Shaker Square Farmers Market. Paired with some ramp pesto riso and MillGate Farm's grass fed beef. I roasted the asparagus in a 425 degree oven in a little butter with salt and pepper. They came out tender-crisp and sweeter than any asparagus I've had in a long while. Great at room temp.

The beef is sauced with a shallot, bourbon, creme fraiche sauce. All that it involved was softening some shallots in the pan the steak was cooked in, adding and flaming some bourbon, adding a little water, creme fraiche, and seasoning and then swirling in some butter before straining the sauce. The shallots were from last season's crop from Snake Hill Farm, they're at the Market too. The beef had great flavor on it's own, but the sauce was addictive, and it would have been a shame to wash the fond down the drain.

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.

Cooking Local and Wild

Braised Lamb Shank with Mint Gemolata and Braising Liquid, Sauteed Wild/Japanese Asparagus, and Ramp Risotto. Two hits, two misses. Shank and risotto, very good. Gemolata and wild asparagus, not so much. The gremolata, shown in progress below, with lemon zest, salt, mint (scavenged from the community garden), and a bit of olive oil was too citrusy. A little less zest and/or more mint and it may have worked.

As for the asparagus, bartered for at the Shaker Square Farmers Market, it wasn't for me. It tasted green and grassy to the point where I wasn't really sure it should be eaten. I had just sauteed it in olive oil with salt and pepper and added a little water to steam it at the end. They weren't to my liking. It may have just been me.

I also picked up the lamb shank and ramps at the Market. The lamb shank, also pictured below, came perfectly trimmed and looked great. First, I seasoned the shank with salt, pepper, and cumin and then browned it in olive oil. Then the shank was removed from the pot and some red wine was added and reduced. After the wine reduced in went a small can of tomatoes that I crushed somewhat with my hands. Once that was at a boil I seasoned with salt and pepper, added the shank back in, and then added some homemade veggie stock to come about halfway up the shank. The pot was then covered and placed in a 325 degree oven for about an hour and a half. After that the shank was removed from the liquid and kept warm in the turned off oven while the sauce was reduced down. Resting under the shank are some of the crushed tomatoes.

The ramp risotto recipe is not too different from this one. I used my usual method, substituting ramp bulbs and shallot for onion in the base saute. I also used the homemade veggie stock in place of the usual chicken stock. All that was was a bunch of old but still okay looking vegetables and mushrooms slowly boiled for about an hour and then strained. At the end I added some butter, cheese, and some chopped ramp tops.

That's it.

Making the most of Michigan

The above picture doesn't do Bell's Eccentric Cafe justice, even though it's ripped from their website. Kalamazoo has become one of my favorite Midwestern towns. It's a college town located only two hours from Chicago with plenty of natural beauty, at least one great local brewery, a bohemian feel, and the potential for locals to enjoy a free college education. What else can anyone ask for?

The Cafe offers a very large selection of Bell's beers as well as some better-than-decent and interesting food choices. It's also great for vegetarians. The beer samplers are generous, and the bar and outside seating areas couldn't be more comfortable. There's music too, but I haven't had a chance to enjoy that yet.

Overall, a great bar/brewpub worth a long drive to visit. While it may not offer the best food in town, that's not really what the place is there for. Also, the store attached to the Cafe has plenty of high quality Bell's gear, beer, Michigan wines, picnic food, and a great selection of home brewing supplies. Both times I've been there I've wanted to pick up some funky brewer's yeast for some no-kneed bread. Maybe next time. There's also a nice little coffee shop across the street if you're more of the caffeine type.

After a day in Kalamazoo we (this was a work trip) were off to the Detroit/Ann Arbor area. I've been trying to make it to Zingerman's Roadhouse for a while, and the opportunity finally presented itself. It couldn't have been much better, with the only problem being how to choose just one entree from the menu. We shared an appetizer sampler that included some ribs, blue and yellow cornmeal hush puppies, onion rings, mini crab cakes, and some quesadilla (the only disappointing thing on the tray), all accompanied by some solid sauces. For a main I went with the server recommended Niman Ranch brisket. It came sliced, piled, and dressed with a house tomato based bbq sauce along with some quality greens and mashed potatoes. Simple and very good. We finished the meal with some lovingly cared for cheese and terrific dulce de leche gelato. Also, it's worth mentioning that the bread they put on the table was excellent, as was the service.

For me it doesn't get much better than sustainable barbecue. It really was a perfect meal with some great company. And the pic is from their website.