I’m feelin’ green

I’m so incredibly thankful right now that I’m road tripping to my friend’s house in Green Bay on Saturday (to run a f**king marathon in 80-f**king degree weather, PLUS 10-20 mph winds! … Deep breath. Composure. I’m good.), and bringing dinner with me.  Because, people, if it weren’t so, I’d be leaving leafy greens at the neighbors’ doorsteps without a note.  Instead of being the anonymous zucchini dumper, I would be the anonymous leafy green leaver. Oh, ugh, that was bad.

Bad alliteration aside, if you haven’t figured it out, I’ve got a cornucopia of green veggies on my hands.

Though they are so very beautiful. And I’m thankful for that, too.

The lettuces will go in an entree salad this evening, tomorrow, on Saturday, and throughout next week until they’re gone.

Young onions will go into the spaghetti sauce I’m making for dinner on Saturday. The rest of them?  No clue… yet.

Radishes will also find their way into salad and on my breakfast plate with a sprinkle of fleur de sel. The greens will be sauteed and combined with my Growing Power scrambled eggs.

Cabbage… maybe cabbage rolls, and/or a mexican slaw with tacos. I’m in need of some inspiration here.  I’m not a Kimchi fan, so don’t even suggest it.

Isn’t this baby pac choi gorgeous?!?

I don’t cook much Asian cuisine, and every other time I’ve  tried to cook pac choi (aka bok choy), I didn’t get it quite right (stem too crunchy, leaves too slimy).  I’ll be scouring the recipe sites and cookbooks for some serious guidance this time around. It’s just too beautiful to mess up.  If you have pac choi expertise or just some fav recipes up your sleeve, please share.

I’ll share what I do with this bounty over the next couple of weeks.  Until then, take 2 minutes to get cozy with Kermit.

 

Pie Project: Lime Pucker Pie

I’ve nearly finished dumping everything perishable in my refrigerator and freezer, which stopped working last night.  Yes, my heart hurts from throwing out homemade yogurt, pork jowl, beef tenderloin, homemade chicken broth, and all manner of other items that I was planning to use over the next few weeks.

Luckily, I had pie to comfort me.

The crust was made just like a basic butter pastry crust, but I subbed plain yogurt for water, at Rose Levy Berenbaum’s suggestion.  I can see why she recommended it–the tangy flavor of the crust does complement the tartness of the lime filling, but 1) it was a devil to work with, cracking all over creation, and 2) I missed the stage-center flavor of butter, which in this crust is masked slightly by the yogurt.

In all fairness, I used another type of flour, so that could have contributed to the difficulty I had keeping the dough in one piece.  On a whim, I decided to use self-rising White Lily flour that I found at a local grocery store in the area (Sendik’s, for those of you who live in Milwaukee).  It’s a bleached white flour with leavener added.  I understand it’s very popular in the South. Since I usually add 1/8 teaspoon baking powder to my crusts, I thought, why not? But it feels very soft. Almost cake flour soft, so it might not work out for me.

The filling was dreamy. It was actually supposed to be a lemon pucker pie from Berenbaum’s Pie and Pastry Bible, but since I had an overabundance of limes from our Casa de Collett Margarita Party (the best margaritas in the Midwest!),  limes it was going to be!

I started by making a lime curd*.  Then I made a stiff meringue*.  Then I folded the curd into the meringue (I keep wanting to spell merengue! Let’s dance!).  Voilá!  Filling done.  I dumped it into my fully pre-baked pie crust, and into the oven it went for about 20 minutes until the top was golden.  It was actually half golden, and half light brown, because my oven is terribly uneven and I forgot to turn it 10 minutes in.  But it was still pretty… until I cut into it.  That meringue-curd filling stuck to the knife no matter what I did!

But I still ate it.  So did my colleagues.  Pucker up, buttercup.

* Note:  these are not the recipes I used, but they’re close and will serve you well if you want to try them. 

 

Pesto Madness

For Sunday dinner, I tried a mint pesto with the wild mint that came in my CSA share.  It had mint, parsley, parmigiana reggiano, pine nuts, garlic and olive oil.  What better to pair it with than lots of grilled treats, including a lamb skewers, asparagus, red onion, and the obligatory accoutrements:  minted yogurt sauce and smoky hummus (made with smoked paprika).  I also made a brown rice pilaf with a touch of the wild mint, peas, and lemon zest.  Topped with ricotta salata, it made a great side dish.

The whole thing sounds like quite a feast to behold, right? Well, turns out the wild mint is just too bitter to be a star in a thing like pesto.  This ain’t your typical mojito mint. And my limited culinary training is failing me in terms of how to adequately tame its bitterness. Adding sugar doesn’t seem right, but I might try it.

Because I’m such a nutcase about not wasting food, I’m going to at least attempt to use the rest of it.  I’m thinking of rubbing it on some chicken parts (with skin and bone) and grilling it.  Perhaps cooking will mellow the flavor?  If anyone is reading this, your suggestions are most welcome.

On Monday, I finally stuck to the meatless theme I’ve been trying to incorporate for months, but because of the abundance of pesky leftovers from Sunday dinner or the need to use other items in my refrigerator that will otherwise take a turn for the worse, my efforts to date have failed.

This time, victory was mine! I made arugula pesto with the gorgeous arugula that came in my CSA box. Basically, it was just like a basil pesto, but I subbed walnuts for the pine nuts.  Seasoned liberally with salt and pepper, it was fresh tasting and rich at the same time.  I also managed to incorporate into the meal more of the green garlic from the share and the asparagus I bought at the grocery store (totally an impulse buy).   Randy is the household grillmaster, so he grilled the asparagus and green garlic, which I then chopped and added to the pasta.

I topped the whole bit with ricotta salata (yes, I’m trying to use it up, but it’s also terrific cheese with just the right amount of bite and salt).

Served with a green leaf lettuce salad (from my CSA share), and homemade sourdough bread (made with my own starter), and a bit of brie (damn those “tiny treats” from Whole Foods!), it was a dinner to remember… and repeat!

 

What’s for dinner? A salad!

I brought home my first batch of beautiful veggies from High Cross Farm yesterday!

Since it’s probably hard to identify everything in the photo, here’s the list:

• RHUBARB, and a whole 3 lbs!  Yum-OH!
• Green garlic
• Arugula
• Wild (!) mint that they foraged from the woods.  (How cool is that?)
• Oregano
• Baby Kale
• Baby Chard
• Lettuce
• Garlic mustard, which is an invasive plant in this area, and honestly, I’m not overwhelmingly excited about cooking with it, but I’ll let you know how it goes.

I was in a bit of hurry after I got home last night, since I had plans to go to this.  (It was great fun!) I decided to make life easy.

I washed the lettuces and arugula, and made myself a big spanish-inspired salad.  I started off by making a quick sherry viniagrette that I can use all week long:

1/4 cup sherry vinegar
2 tsp dijon mustard
1 garlic clove, smashed
3/4  cup extra virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste

Combine everything in a jar, and shake the bejeezus out of it until it emulsifies. Easy.

Note:  The ratio for viniagrette is 3-1. Three parts oil to 1 part acid, which can be lemon/lime juice or vinegar.  You can play with this ratio to your own taste, but it’s great to have it in your back pocket when you don’t have time to prepare a fancy salad dressing with lots of ingredients. Plus it’s endlessly adaptable. Add fresh herbs, capers, honey, soy, even cheese.

Note 2:  When you combine garlic and oil, and leave it there for a long time, that’s a recipe for botulism. So don’t think you can keep the dressing indefinitely.  Use it or throw it out after a week, 10 days tops.  See? There are reasons behind these storage guidelines we see everywhere.   

I doctored up the salad with julienned piquillo peppers, slivered pieces of Pamplona style salami from Bolzano’s, Bel Gioso ricotta salata (I didn’t have manchego on hand, OK?), red onion and radishes.

I would have added chickpeas as well if they weren’t frozen solid in their cooking juice in my freezer.  And some sea-salted marcona almonds would have added some crunch and an extra hit of rich flavor, too, but like I said, I was in a hurry.  And it was a great salad without these additions.

I’m already dreaming about breakfast from my CSA:  soft scrambled eggs with sauteed greens and green garlic.

But I have to go for my run first.

Happy trails, and happy cooking!

 

Spring greens comin’ atcha

After attending the Local Farmers’ Open House at the Urban Ecology Center, where Randy and I are members, I decided that a spring greens and produce share sounded like a fabulous idea. Just a few farms offer spring shares, and I decided to go with High Cross, a well-established farm in Campbellsport. (I will likely go with a different farm for the summer share.)

Is this little baby not the cutest thing you’ve ever seen? One of the ram lamb residents of High Cross Farm.

I got in the game a bit late, so instead of four boxes, I’m getting three, and I pick up my first one today!  Yippee!

I’m hoping for some rhubarb along with all the other lovely spring greens.  I have an unhealthy obsession with rhubarb, so you know, I might freak if it’s not in at least one of these boxes.  I actually ruled out a couple of CSA farms only because they don’t grow rhubarb.  So yeah, I’m pretty serious about the stuff.

Anyway, I’m anxious to share what I get in my box (it’s like opening a present!), and what I do with it.  Until then, have a happy hangover week.

According to Bon Appetit magazine, this week is Hangover Week, and these, my friends, are boozy popsicles. Salivate away.

 

Apples, almonds, olé!

We have just finished cleaning up the last dishes from our 5th annual Cinco de Mayo party.  We still have to put the furniture back in place, but I’m feeling good about having a clean kitchen again.  So good in fact, that I’m making me some homemade yogurt this morning.  Mmmm.

Despite the hefty amount of preparation that went into my Mexican feast, I still managed to squeak out my weekly pie.  In the spirit of Mexico’s sweet victory against Napoleon in the 1862 Battle of Puebla, I made a sweet treat:  empanadas with carmelized apple and almond filling.

Here are the little beauties.

No, there’s no booze in the empanadas. The picture is also paying homage to Randy’s best-in-Milwaukee margaritas.

Ok, they’re not that beautiful, but some of them were way worse! The thing about empanadas and other items requiring putzy assemblage is that the more you do it, the better you get at crimping those pretty little edges. This won’t be the last time you see empanadas on my blog!

I used a recipe from my go-to book for these parties, Fiesta at Rick’s. It’s a fun book, and you can really riff on the recipes and not screw them up. Bonus!

To make them, use your favorite pie dough recipe and maybe add a touch more water if you’re like me. (For regular pies, I keep the dough as dry as possible, but still able to be rolled. You really have to handle the dough a lot with empanadas, so adding a touch more water will ensure they don’t fall apart on you.)

Roll it out into a big sheet or round, about 1/8 inch thick, and cut 3.5-4 inch circles.

Saute apples in butter with brown sugar and a pinch of salt until they’re good and caramelized.

Use almond paste, diluted with water for a spreadable consistency.  (Or you can use any nut you like. Grind it up in a food processor, then add a bit of butter to make it spreadable.)

For each empanada, spread a scant teaspoon of almond paste and top with a couple of teaspoons of apples.  Crimp the edges in anyway you like.  Here’s a good 1-minute tutorial.

At this stage, you can either freeze them or bake in a 400 degree oven for about 15 minutes.  Brush with an egg yolk/water mixture, then pop them back into the oven for a few minutes to brown slightly.

Delicioso.

 

Spring Pie Report

This sister has been one busy gal!   Between baking pies, traveling for work, and trying to decide which CSA  to sign up for this year, I’ve fallen behind on my pie reporting!

Here’s a spring round-up:

Sour Cherry Lattice Pie

I love sour cherry pie. I’m sure my first experience with it was in Door County (where else?). It’s second only to strawberry rhubarb, which my grandmother made somewhat regularly when I was a little tyke.  I made this pie for noshing on after my Trailbreaker half-marathon on March 31 (PR, baby!).  It was good.  I’ve made better.  I overworked the cream cheese crust, taking too much comfort in the fact that the cream cheese slows down the gluten formation in the flour. The filling was also soupy, which I attribute to using frozen cherries. Definitely should have reduced the liquid to a syrup before tossing it all in the pie crust.  Though it’s beautiful, don’t you think?

Recipe adapted from the Pie and Pastry Bible.

Leek and Goat Cheese Quiche

The first time I made this savory pie was for a breakfast for my dear friend Stephanie’s wedding party the morning of her big day.  This is the first time I’ve used shortening in my crust since I began my pie project.  I felt the tenderness provided by shortening would be important in a quiche. The result was quite honestly, dreamy.  I used a 2/3 butter, 1/3 shortening ratio.  The butter flavor came through strong, and the normal textural problems with  shortening were not noticeable.

Recipe from Cooks Illustrated (which has a lock-down on lots of their recipes). But look! Someone else wrote it down here, so I don’t have to. Use any crust recipe that makes a 10-inch pie, and just use the same ratio of butter to shortening that I mention above to get my spectacular results.

Chocolate Bourbon Pudding … Pie?

Ok, I cheated.  It wasn’t a pie. They were bars.  I was about to leave town and I had milk that would go bad if I didn’t use it.  The crust was a cookie crust, rather than a pastry crust, and the pudding… well, it was delicious.  This recipe could have easily been made in a pie-shaped vessel, so I’m taking some liberties here.

Recipe adapted from Baked Explorations.

Chocolate Pecan Bourbon Pie

Huh. Looks like the chocolate and bourbon thing is becoming a pattern.  A girl needs her chocolate.  And she also needs a stiff drink on a regular basis (like, daily). Why not combine the two?

Pecan pie on crack is my best description of this thing. So good, and addictive. It’s very reminiscent of the Run for the Roses pie that my mother used to make occasionally, but better because it wasn’t so cloyingly sweet.  Leave it to David Lebovitz to get the perfect balance.  I used his crust recipe, but added a 1/8 tsp of baking powder, and I used bleached flour, which has less protein than unbleached.

It got a little gnarly when I cut it, because 1) I like my pecans chunky and 2) I don’t have the kind of knife that can neatly slice through chunky pecans. But believe me, this ugly duckling was delish.

Onion Custard Pie

What’s getting old on my countertop and in my refrigerator dictates much of what I cook on a daily basis, and it’s no different with my pies.  I noticed my onions starting to sprout, so I made caramelized onions. The leap to quiche was not long.  The filling is caramelized onions, bacon, gruyere, and custard. Very French. Buttery. Rich. I gave half of it away, because I’ve got a marathon coming up  in a few weeks, and preferably, I would like to drop a few pounds rather than gain a few.  (Believe me, a couple of pounds can make a difference over 26.2 miles of pounding the pavement!)

Reciped adapted from The Art of Simple Food by Alice Waters.  This is a great book for learning basic techniques.

Honestly, I’m learning a lot about making pies and pie crusts.  Some of it is really technical and boring, so I can’t bring myself to write about it. At least not now.

Maybe when my pie project ends, I’ll do a top 10 list. But that’s not until December, so you’ll just have to wait a few months for list-mania.

Until then, party on.

Next up:  Strawberry rhubarb (unless I decide to make a compote instead).

 

A Pear-y Good Pie

I kept picking up pears from the market, because they looked delicious. I felt a little guilty about it, because they’re not local pears.  It’s tough even for me–a person committed to supporting local, sustainable farms–to resist the allure of such handsome produce.

But I had them ripening away in my fruit bowl, and with the week coming to a close, I knew I needed to get busy. Pear pie.  And for a little zing, I added slightly sweetened Montmorency tart cherries. Then, because every fruit pie needs a topping, I made a buttery brown sugar streusel.

I went with the all-butter quick crust that I used last week, again adding 1/4 tsp of baking powder,  but this time I let it rest longer.  That helped, but it was still a bit of a bear to roll out and cracked like crazy around the edges. This does tend to happen more with all-butter crusts, but I’m in search of a solution.  Since then I’ve read a few more crust tips that I’m going to try for this week’s pie.

The fruit filling was simply cut pears macerated with a bit of sugar and spices, and I used flour for the thickening agent. Next time, I’ll go with cornstarch. I may be full of you-know-what, but I think it gives the filling a more clean and pure flavor and texture.

Fruit fillings often make for soggy crusts, but not since I’ve been using another trick I learned from the great Rose Levy Berenbaum.  She kindly, but precisely instructs us to mix our fruit and sugar, let it macerate for 30 minutes or so, then drain the extra juices into a small saucepan (you’ll have 1/3 to 1/2 cup of juice).  Put that little saucepan of watery, sugary goodness onto the heat and cook it into a thick syrup. Finally let it cool a bit, and mix the syrup back into the bowl of fruit.  Then, you may dump your fruit into your partially baked pie shell, top it with your crust, lattice or streusel, and bake away.

Genius, hey?  Instead of all that water leaking into the crust you labored and fussed over, it’s evaporated–poof!–before it even goes into the pie.  Then you’re left with a concentrated fruity concoction that heightens the flavor of the filling.

So I did that with my pears, and it was a beautiful thing. (See how the juices aren’t oozing out all over the plate? That’s the syrup trick!)

When I took my first bite of this pie, I honestly wasn’t sure I liked it (I think it was the texture of the flour, people. I’m going with cornstarch next time).  But I took another bite… and then another… and another… and then I was licking the plate.  I was literally licking the plate.  I mean, I didn’t really know what I was doing, and then I was like, oh my god, I’m licking this plate. That’s ridiculous! I never lick my plate! (dragging my finger through what’s left on the plate, and licking my finger… well, that’s another story.) Though it is a pretty plate, don’t you think?

Anyway, after I got over my astonishment at what I had done,  I promptly packed up one more piece for myself to eat when I was feeling a bit more disciplined (like the following morning at breakfast time), and sent the rest off with my husband to drop off at his father’s hair salon. The ladies at the salon did me and my back end a big favor by polishing it off.  Thanks, gals.

On deck for next week:  A post-race sour cherry pie.

 

My Pi Day Project

Pi Day is admittedly a corny foodie excuse to make Pi… I mean pie, but I’m not above jumping on the bandwagon.  My anti-resolution gives me a legitimate excuse to do so.

Here’s my Pi Day pie:  a caramel pumpkin pie with a simple almond streusel topping.

I didn’t realize until yesterday that it was Pi Day, so I had to rush the crust a bit, and of course it affected the result.  It’s a delicious and buttery and flaky crust, but it is quite fragile.  Had I incorporated the resting phases that I learned from Berenbaum, I think it would have held together better, but all in all, this is a pretty good result for a rush job.

Again, because it was a rush job, I did literally nothing to make this recipe my own.

So, with full credit to Fine Cooking, I used their all-butter pie crust recipe, and used Kerry Gold butter. Wow, what a difference that made!  I added 1/4 tsp of baking powder, a trick I learned from Berenbaum.  She says it aerates the crust a bit, making the end result flakier.  Having tried pie crusts with and without the baking powder, I agree.  It’s a tiny extra step and completely worth it.

The filling was courtesy of Dorie Greenspan in her book, Baking.  I’ve never liked pumpkin pie, but I do like pumpkin. Go figure.  Anyway, I’m trying to find recipes that will help me develop a taste for pumpkin pie, and I think the caramel might do it.

By the way, Baking is one of my favorite baking books, and the one I turn to first when looking for a sweet treat. Now I prefer baking books that have weight measurements, but I’ve had such repeated luck with Greenspan’s recipes, that I can’t turn my back on this book.

Caramel Pumpkin Pie

1 cup sugar
3/4 cup heavy cream
2 T dark rum
2 T unsalted butter, cut into 4 cubes
1 cup canned unsweetened pumpkin puree
1.25 tsp cinnamon
.75 tsp ginger (I didn’t have any on hand, so just used extra nutmeg)
pinch of freshly grated nutmeg (yes, grating the whole nut is so much better)
pinch of ground allspice
pinch of salt
1.5 tsp vanilla extract (use the good stuff)
2 large eggs

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Place partially baked crust on a silpat or parchment lined baking sheet.

Pour 1/2 cup of sugar in a stainless steel skillet over med-high heat.  The sugar will eventually melt and start to turn color. Do NOT stir the sugar!!!  You can gently swirl the sugar around the skillet by picking up the handle and slightly tilting it each way to make sure the sugar cooks evenly, but that’s IT!  Wait until it turns dark brown (which ensures a fuller flavor).  You really have to watch it at the end so you don’t go overboard.  Turn the burner to low, pour in the heavy cream, and now you can stir it with a whisk.  Make sure it’s nice and smooth.  Then add the cubed butter, and finally the rum.  Let it cool for about 15 minutes.

Combine the pumpkin, 1/2 cup sugar, spices, salt, vanilla and eggs, and beat with a whisk until it’s well combined.  Whisk in the caramel.  Rap the bowl against the counter a few times to release air bubbles, then pour into the partially baked crust.

Bake for 10 minutes, then top with the almond streusel.

Almond Streusel

2 T butter
2 T chopped almonds
2 T flour
2 T light brown sugar

Combine everything with your fingers until it clumps a bit.  You may want to refrigerate this for a bit before adding it to the pie.  Make it before you start the caramel, stick in the fridge, and you’ll be in good shape by the time you add this to the pie.

(Actually, I forgot to add this until about 45 minutes in, so I’m a little worried about the streusel tasting flour-y.  That’s why I instruct you to bake it for 10 minutes–use a timer, and then you won’t forget!)

Bake for another 45-55 minutes or until the filling is puffed and set and a knife inserted in the center comes out clean.  I think I actually baked mine for over an hour, but it all depends on your oven.

Cool to room temp, and refrigerate.  Dorie recommends serving with lightly sweetened whipped cream.  Sounds like a lovely idea to me.

So where are your pies for the last couple of weeks?

Admittedly, I did not make pie the last couple of weeks.  I was in Hawaii, aka paradise, and while I considered making a pie, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.  We stayed in condos, so it would have likely been not too difficult a feat, especially if I had made something like a key lime or ice cream pie (called a Hula Pie in Hawaii).  However, I knew we wouldn’t eat the entire thing (I always share my pies at work), and I really didn’t want to waste it.   But I decided that the research part of pie R&D was still possible, and research I did.

We found this sweet cafe in the tiny town of Hanapepe on the island of Kauai (the island I hope to make my home in the next 15 years or so. Seriously!).  They use local and organic ingredients and make some lovely pies and pastry.  My husband and I shared a mango passion fruit pie with locally made Lampert’s vanilla bean ice cream.  The filling was the perfect balance of sweet and tart; the crust was incredibly tender (though not very flaky); and the ice cream married all the flavors in the most delicious way.

I can’t figure out what fat they used in the crust.  I don’t believe it was shortening, because it didn’t have that mouthfeel, but it didn’t have much of a buttery flavor either.  This one may require more research.  It was a lovely crust, but I do prefer a crust which has more of a balance between tender and flaky.

Then, when I came home, I could have made a pie, but I didn’t.  I made myself a birthday cake. And I put candles on it.  So there.  Here’s my lemon layer cake, with a buttery lemon curd frosting. Pucker up, boys and girls!

Yes, I’m 38.  Maybe I’m old, but I still kick ass.  Eat it.  (I did, and it was yummy.)

I also celebrated with strong cocktails, hence the blurry photo.  Give a girl a break.

Happy pi/pie day!

 

Reflections on eating locally

Did you know that Hawaii imports 85-90% of all their food?  Shocking, isn’t it? Especially when you consider there are almost 2 million acres of agricultural land and 7,500 farms throughout all of the islands.

Photo courtesy of The Hawaii Independent. This is a photo of a Taro field in Waipio. Taro is still a major crop in Hawaii. Photo links to more stats on Hawaii's agricultural production.

I’m no growing expert, but the conditions in Hawaii seem to me perfect for growing an enormous variety of crops.  In many ways the climate is similar to southern Califorinia, only better. It IS paradise, after all.

You may wonder why I’m talking about Hawaii in a post about eating locally.  I just spent nearly two weeks there, and I tried my best to eat locally.  We tended to eat at roadside stands or at high end restaurants that pride themselves on sourcing their ingredients from the islands.  Since we stayed in condos, we were able to have some of our meals at home, and we shopped at the plentiful farmers markets or small neighborhood grocers for our produce and some of our dairy.

But it was still a challenge.  You can see if you travel there that there is a kind of locavore movement that has taken hold in many communities, and like communities in the Midwest, it’s a two steps forward, one step back enterprise.

Even so, the energy around local, organic foods and especially the plentiful farmers markets in Hawaii got me excited about the upcoming growing season here in Milwaukee.  I love shopping at local farmers markets, but there are downsides.  Going to a farmers market is a  time commitment, and honestly, I sometimes get overwhelmed by the selection and end up carrying out far more than my husband and I can consume.

After taking a year off from joining a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture), I’m jumping back in.

The question is: Who should I sign up with this year?

I’m relying on the Urban Ecology Center’s Local Farmer Open House on Saturday, March 17 to help me decide.  Many local farmers who offer CSA shares will be there to provide literature about their farming practices, the length of their growing season, and what a typical box might contain at different times during the season.

It’s important to me that the CSA I join…

1. Offers a half-share.  A typical share from a CSA farm feeds a family of 4-5.  Since I’m feeding two, I need a half share to avoid waste.  Because with waste comes guilt.  And guilt is definitely something I DON’T need!  Preferably, I would like a half-share to pick up every week. Many farms design their half-share so you pick up your basket every other week.  Easier for the farmer, yes, but more difficult for me.
2. Offers eggs.  I signed up with Rare Earth Farm for a couple of years when I was splitting a full share with someone I worked with.  Their eggs were dynamite and while now it’s easier to find local eggs in the grocery store, it wasn’t as easy even just a few years ago.
3. Doesn’t use excessive chemicals or pesticides in their farming.  I prefer organic, but honestly, the hoops farmers have to jump through in order to label their crop organic is sometimes too burdensome and resource-intensive.  If a farmer assures me that their crop is minimally treated, and they use ecologically responsible agricultural practices, even though it’s not “certified organic,”  I’m OK with that.

This year I’m planning to attend one of the great workshops they’re offering.  I’m debating between “Cooking from your CSA box,” led by Annie Wegner LaFort, a local chef and master food preserver, and “How pesticides and food choice affect our health and local water quality,” led by Lynn Markham, University of Wisconsin Extension Agent at University of Wisconsin at Stevens Point.

Because I’m a cook myself, Annie’s workshop is a natural draw.  It’s always interesting to see how other cooks approach ingredients. Also, having just gotten my feet wet in the world of preserving last summer, I’m in need of some good resources!

I know and understand very little about how our choices impact our local water quality, but it strikes me as a critically important topic.  As someone who cares about health and the environment, I feel a responsibility to learn all I can about these issues.

I’m excited to attend the open house this year, and to share my experiences with my CSA here.  Once the season begins, I’ll share each week what I’m receiving in my box, and how I’m preparing the items.

Aloha, and happy eating!