Roasted Asparagus in Balsamic Vinegar (vegan)
Batter-dipped French Fries (vegan)
Roasted Root Vegetables (vegan)
Roasted Fresh Tomato Sauce (vegan)
Slow-simmered Tomato Sauce (vegan)
Sour Dill Cucumbers (vegan) (Todd and Jordan Champagne)
Spicy Kimchee (vegan) (Todd and Jordan Champagne)
Classic Sauerkraut (vegan) (Todd and Jordan Champagne)
Young Green Beans with Balsamic Vinegar
** see Liam’s Favorites (page 219) for:
Garlic planters have thrived thanks to the largest Ponzi scheme ever conceived — more than Bernie Madoff’s billions and perhaps more than the US Federal government’s escapades with Social Security, issuing IOUs to Paul (into the future) to pay Peter now.
That’s what happens when you plant a head of garlic, which usually consists of about 6 cloves. We harvest our garlic in June, curing them in our straw bale greenhouse. When it comes time to plant garlic late in the fall, we break apart the bulb and separate out each of the cloves: our seeds. By the second season, that head or bulb of garlic has produced 6 heads. By year three, as many as 36 bulbs (6 heads multiplied by 6 cloves each). In year four, there are 214. You see where this is going. By year ten, more than 10,000 garlic bulbs. We’ve just created a vampire-free zone, without a doubt.
Fresh garden salad greens.
Unless we suffer a catastrophic crop failure, pretty uncommon for garlic crops, it’s practically impossible to go bust — nature is hardwired to cover itself, reproductively speaking. For proof, try counting the blossoms on an apple or cherry tree in the spring. Some blossoms become apples or cherries, others don’t (blame it on the bees, a late frost or some other weather calamity). The point here is that nature, more often than not, goes overboard on abundance. And if you tend your own orchard or garden, it doesn’t take long to realize that the bushels of apples don’t cost a penny. Just your time and some labor.
It’s this fresh abundance that allows us to gorge on or process (for later use) from late May through early November in our northern climate. Fresh means selecting the freshest ingredients, fruits, vegetable or herbs found a hundred feet from our back door and not ones that have traveled for thousands of miles. In general, the more an ingredient arrives on your table resembling what it was in the field, the better its nutrient value and fiber content. The harder part is figuring out what is both fresh and ripe — there’s nothing more disappointing than biting into an unripe apple or watermelon!
Some things are always tasty, regardless of size, like carrots. Baby carrots often featured at high-end restaurants are selected because they’re more tender and flavorful. And the corollary, bigger is not always better for vegetables like zucchini (you can’t enjoy the skin since it’s too hard), cucumbers (they can get bitter or seedy) or beets (they get tough and woody).
For the rest of our fresh produce, however, we consult friends, books, the Internet and seed catalogs to determine, for example, when the abundant muskmelons we grow are ready to eat. Is it color, smell or the magic touch or tap? We looked like ostriches, butts in the air and heads bobbing up and down, bending close to the ground in our attempts to catch a whiff of the sweet smell of sunshine from a ripe melon. We learned that our cultivar of melons, when ripe, should “slip” off the spot that they’re connected to the vine with a gentle tug — a more reliable method. So for each of our fruits, vegetables and herbs, we learned the telltale signs of ripeness. For those who shop the farmers markets, receive a CSA box or ply the fresh produce aisles, this quest for fresh and ripe has been largely done for you — often masterfully.
So savor the best flavors and realize that the most nutritious foods you can eat are also the freshest, assuming you don’t boil, steam or sauté them into mush. Depending on the vegetable or fruit, the minute they’re harvested, their enzymes that help in their ripening also make them rot. When eating fresh, you’re on the clock, even with the benefit of a refrigerator. Some foods, however, like garlic or potatoes, can be stored for months.
Since part of this chapter delves into salads, you’ll notice the ingredient lists and recipes appear short. Nothing skipped, just quality ingredients added. We’d be ruining your meal if we’d suggest otherwise. Also worth noting, there’s no iceberg lettuce, since there are far more nutritious and flavorful greens from which to choose. It’s ironic that the crunchy iceberg is among the top three vegetables consumed by Americans. (The other two being but a variation on one, potatoes, in the form of either French fries or potato chips).
For anyone who snips some lettuce, pulls a radish or two and plucks a vine ripened tomato in order to toss up a salad, the fresh ingredients steal the show and demand simple recipes to spotlight and highlight what’s already the rock star. When the garden and fresh flavors peak in abundance during the growing season — when salad greens jump 100 feet in five minutes from the garden to our plate — just a sprinkle of homemade salad dressing brings out their subtle flavors.
Liam Kivirist planting seeds.
IT’S UNLIKELY THAT we’ll ever be able to save and freeze much of our asparagus — even with our numerous growing beds — since we can’t help but eat it all as soon as it starts pushing up through the soil in early spring. Part of the problem after a winter largely without greens is that our bodies crave anything fresh and green come spring. Eating seasonally does have a few drawbacks (some might call them sacrifices), the least of which is that fresh lettuce, spinach, broccoli and small fruits rarely find their way onto our plates during the winter months. Absence, we agree, makes the heart grow fonder and, we’d maintain, the palate more eager. Instead of a potato side, try this recipe for dinner or breakfast.
1t. canola oil
1lb. fresh asparagus, trimmed
2T. green onion, chopped
2T. celery, chopped
2T. hard granular cheese, grated (Parmesan)
¼c. bread crumbs
¼c. butter, melted (½ stick)
¼t. salt
Place asparagus in a lightly oiled 9 × 13-inch baking pan in one heavy layer.
Mix remaining ingredients and spoon over asparagus.
Bake at 375° for 45 minutes or until tender.
Plate this dish on a white serving plate to bring out the vibrant green colors.
YIELD: Serves 4.
It’s the mold that keeps on giving. We’ve learned to focus on using our local, high-quality European-style or artisanal cheeses. Artisanal cheeses contrast with the mass-produced (and bland) kind you find in the grocery store in many ways, the least of which are flavors, textures, varieties and distinctive types with defining characteristics, like a streak of blue in blue cheese or the creamy, tart bite of a chevre. Artisan cheesemakers make the cheese by hand, often by age-old methods, not machines or robots that churn out the industrial stuff. It’s the process of ripening and aging the cheeses that results in the distinctive flavors, textures and, yes, aromas. With the diversity of cheese available and myriad ways to classify cheeses (texture, age, fat content and so on), for the purposes of this book we mention the type by names but the brand you may end up buying can differ depending on where you live. For example, this recipe calls for a hard granular cheese: a low-moisture cheese that tends to taste tangy, appear dense and have a granular texture, often just grated as a topping. While we may refer to it as Parmesan in this cookbook, we’re not referring to a certain brand that’s sold in a green can. Rather it’s Parmigiano Reggiano, imported from Italy, or, in our case, a local version from Monroe’s Emmi Roth Käse cheese factory called GranQueso.
GO NAKED WITH THIS RECIPE. Just a splash of balsamic vinegar with some salt and olive oil is all that’s needed to bring out the flavors of fresh asparagus.
1lb. fresh asparagus, trimmed
2t. olive oil
½t. salt
3T. balsamic vinegar
Place the asparagus in a lightly oiled 9 × 13-inch baking pan.
Sprinkle with oil and salt.
Bake at 425° for 10 to 15 minutes or until lightly browned.
Transfer to a heated serving plate to keep the asparagus hot, then drizzle with vinegar just before serving.
YIELD: 4 Servings.
Keep fresh asparagus from going limp by placing them in an upright glass Mason jar in your refrigerator with cut ends submerged in a couple of inches of water.
Mason jar with asparagus popping out.
THE HECK WITH HASH BROWNS, the greasy-spoon diner speciality. This healthier alternative made with olive oil is a nice side for breakfast or great as a starch for dinner, too — just not on the same day.
½c. olive oil
¼c. butter (½ stick), melted
2t. beef bouillon paste (not stock)
1t. thyme
1t. marjoram
3T. dried onion flakes
¼t. celery seed
⅛t. celery salt
2lbs. potatoes, peeled & quartered (about 8 cups)
In a 9 × 13-inch baking pan, mix oil, melted butter, bouillon and herbs.
Add potatoes and coat with mixture.
Bake for about 30 minutes at 450°, until tender and golden brown. Turn potatoes occasionally while baking.
YIELD: 8 servings.
We use Superior Touch Better than Bouillon organic beef base for this oven-roasted potatoes recipe. The fact that you can recognize the ingredients is a great start, plus it must be refrigerated after opened. It tastes great.
SO THE SUMMER IS SIZZLING ALONG. Perhaps your gardens are overloading you with more than you can handle, or the CSA box keeps showing up with a few mid-summer root crops that you don’t regularly cook with, like turnips and rutabagas. Relax. This marinade recipe makes a big batch of about 24 c. of chopped veggies. Marinades are forgiving recipes; feel free to use other herbs you may have in the pantry or, better yet, fresh from the garden like dill or basil. Leftover kabob pieces taste great cold or reheated and served over rice.
1½c. olive oil
2T. garlic salt
2T. dried oregano or about ⅓ c. fresh
2T. dried thyme or about ⅓ c. fresh
2T. sugar
10c. root crops, cubed into 1½-inch chunks (turnips, rutabagas, parsnips, beets)
6c. summer squash or zucchini, cubed into 1½-inch chunks
5c. onions, quartered
4c. whole cherry or small tomatoes
16wood kabob skewers
Steam root crops as recommended in cooking tip below.
Place all marinade ingredients in a glass canning jar and gently shake until sugar dissolves.
Place cut veggies and whole tomatoes in a large bowl and pour marinade over veggies. Gently stir to evenly coat veggies. Refrigerate several hours for veggies to absorb the marinade flavors, stirring about every 15 to 30 minutes.
Soak wood skewers in water for about an hour before making kabobs (the skewers absorb water and are less likely to catch fire).
Skewer marinated veggies on kabob sticks, about 5 veggie pieces per kabob. Grill approximately 5 minutes on each side until nicely brown.
Serve over a bed of fresh lettuce greens for an added color punch.
YIELD: 16 kabobs.
These kabobs can be made with just about any seasonally fresh veggie. Firmer root veggies like beets, rutabagas and turnips taste great in kabobs, just be sure to boil or steam them first (firm but tender, so you can puncture them with a fork) before putting them on the grill.
WE NEVER SAID WE DIDN’T EAT FRENCH FRIES, we just don’t eat them every week. This is our version of America’s favorite way to eat potatoes, except ours are organic, local and batter-dipped. We choose organic and grow organically for lots of reasons, the least of which are for the health of the eater, farmer and land. The USDA organic certification label is most essential when we cannot directly meet our grower or food producer. The certification process is both comprehensive and verified by someone not working for either the government or the grower. We rely on the Organic Consumers Association (organicconsumers.org) to keep us abreast of changes with organic foods.
About 1½ pounds potatoes, peeled
1c. flour
1t. garlic salt
1t. seasoning salt
1t. salt
1t. paprika
½c. water or as needed canola oil for frying
½t. chili powder
½t. salt
Slice potatoes into French fries and place in cold water for a couple of hours. The water removes some of the starch and will make your fries crispier.
Heat oil in large skillet over medium-high heat or use a deep fryer.
While the oil is heating, sift the flour, garlic salt, seasoning salt, (sea) salt and paprika into a large bowl. Gradually stir in enough water so that the batter can be drizzled from a spoon.
Dip potato slices into the batter one at a time, and place in the hot oil so they are not touching at first. The fries must be placed into a deep fryer one at a time, or they will clump together. Fry until golden brown and crispy. Remove, and drain on paper towels.
Serve immediately, sprinkled with seasoning salt and a dash of chili powder.
YIELD: 6 servings.
Cookery is not chemistry. It is an art. It requires instinct and taste rather than exact measurements.
MARCEL BOULESTIN
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Food Fight: Becoming a Victory Garden Grower |
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For us, patriotic is fresh spinach greens and carrots ready to harvest right outside our kitchen door — or a bushel of potatoes stored in our basement root cellar, stockpiled for the winter. It’s powering our farm completely with homemade renewable energy.
As gardening and farmsteading patriots, we connect with that historic victory garden movement of the First and Second World Wars, connecting homegrown produce with homeland security. Today, there’s a victory garden renaissance among enthusiastic growers like ourselves, revitalizing this patriotic call while also keenly aware of rising fuel and food prices.
Our 5.5 acres sits on a ridge with undulating hills falling away in every direction, filled with the big-three crops for our county: corn, soybeans and alfalfa. Most of what our neighboring farmers grow goes to feeding their dairy cows or a few pigs or sold as commodities. To help mitigate chemical and GMO (genetically modified organisms) drift onto our organic farm, we’ve added evergreens around the edges of our rectangular property every year since arriving more than a decade and a half ago. In the distance to the west are blinking and spinning sentinels, a recently erected wind farm that sends its renewable energy through the transmission wires into the Windy City, Chicago.
The farmhouse is a typical four-square, two-story wood-framed house with dormers facing north and south, surrounded by blue spruce and white pines we planted to serve as windbreaks and help to boost our home’s energy efficiency. On the west side between two maples is a small pond, kept full with the downspout of one gutter; on the east side meanders our perennial flower beds that put on a kaleidoscopic display of color and foliage from April through November.
Victory Garden WWII poster. Bright-colored posters produced for the government by artists from the Work Progress Administration (WPA) encouraged Americans to “Fight with Food.”
A white trellis, handcrafted by our neighbor Burnette Burkhalter, serves as the entrance through which one passes our flower beds into our three growing fields — our version of the Victory Gardens that make up about a third of an acre. We’ve taken E. F. Schumacher’s small is beautiful mantra to heart. Separating field one and two is a raspberry patch from which we make two harvests, the first in early summer and the second, late fall. There’s also a tulip bed tucked in for an early spring show.
The 4-foot-wide raised beds in field two are book-ended with perennial flowers, an idea we borrowed after a visit the Center for Agroecology at the University of California Santa Cruz. The flowers aren’t just for show; they mark the beds in early spring, attract bees throughout the summer and feed our souls in the same way that the food crops feed our bodies. The rest of the mounded raised beds in our gardens stretch about 50 feet long, separated by walking pathways in New Zealand clover to keep weed pressures in check.
As organic growers, we cycle through a 4-year rotation to confuse the bejiggers out of the insects, put a damper on possible fungus issues in the soil and avoid depleting soil fertility by growing the same plant in the same row over and over again. After our major mid-summer harvests of onions, garlic, potatoes and sweet peas, for example, we plant in a “green manure” cover crop of hairy vetch, sweet peas and winter rye — all killed off by our frigid winters — but only after it prevents our soil from eroding away. Instead of herbicides, we mulch like crazy, mostly with straw and newspaper, which also helps retain moisture and cut down on the need to use our drip irrigation system.
Several of our compost mounds are strategically placed at the edges of the gardens; slow heaps that turn into rich humus added back into our beds after about a year or so of decomposition. We also work in some of our neighbor’s horse manure. Both help preserve moisture, boost the nutrient levels of our produce (as some research suggests) and increase our yields.
In the end, our version of Victory Gardens stand as testament to how we rekindled our urge to grow what we ate, selling some of our surplus to our guests, area restaurants or at farmers markets over the years. We now meet more than 70 percent of our food needs ourselves. Despite our un-agrarian upbringing in the suburbs, we managed to figure out how to retake control of our food supply. We’ve joined the millions of Americans who have picked up a hoe, purchased some seeds and got to work in their gardens — whether to save money, grow fresh, higher-quality ingredients or simply feel the satisfaction that comes from eating what you grow. It’s not the survivalist instinct that has kicked in, but a pioneering, self-sufficiency one. There’s nothing like growing your own salad rather than buying it in a bag or plastic box, all chopped up for us.
The last time the Victory Garden movement took root in the US was during World War II, when the government appealed to Americans to grow some of their own food, not just in rural areas, but in the city too, in backyards, rooftops or empty lots. Nearly 20 million Americans answered the call, becoming patriotic producers of the foods they consumed in their communities, in part, because commercially canned goods were rationed as a result of the war and there was limited fuel to transport food around the country. Gardening was no longer the providence of the poor or those who could not afford to feed themselves; rather, gardening emerged as a civic virtue, a responsibility to country and to community.
According to the USDA, more than 9 million tons of fresh vegetables and fruits were harvested from these gardens in 1943, an amount on par with the commercial production at that time and accounting for 40 percent of the produce consumed in America. Europeans, likewise, had their own gardening initiative, as they did previously during World War I. While many kitchen gardens declined or disappeared in the years following the war, in Europe gardening continued as a popular pastime in community gardens as well as kitchen gardens on small plots of land.
Our friend Rose Hayden-Smith, a garden historian with the University of California, understands the outcome of the Victory Garden movement better than most. She’s a powerhouse with a passion for plants. Her heart and the focus of her academic work roots in Victory Gardens. But she’s on a mission: how to rekindle that growing spirit.
“There are various reasons for today’s revival of Victory Gardens,” began Rose, as she took us on a walking tour of the historic University of California Faulkner Farm in Santa Paula, California, where she leads the educational programming at University of Californias Hansen Agricultural Center. “In addition to tough economic times, people are increasingly concerned about the health of our food system. They want to make a direct connection to where their food comes from. People are also looking for a return to community-based living, a time reminiscent of 1943 which was the peak of the Victory Garden movement when folks readily exchanged garden surplus and cultivated warm friendships with neighbors.”
“Unfortunately, many people associated Victory Gardens with deprivation and hard times during the day,” admits Rose, explaining the sudden disappearance of the gardens after the war. “They felt liberated to not need to garden anymore. The decades after World War II brought economic prosperity to America, and with that, the rise of processed and convenience food, leading our nation even further from home gardens and, one might add, healthy food. The obesity epidemic is no secret these days.”
The troops are reorganizing. “While the doughboy and McDonald’s clown may have managed to overtake the Victory Garden army of patriots a generation ago, we have noticed seeds of change sprouting,” smiles Rose. “Today, Americans of all ages have enlisted to serve healthier meals to their families, prepared with fresh, affordable ingredients grown right out their back door. You could say that we’ve rediscovered the flavor of fresh.”
FOR A SWISS TWIST TO HASH BROWNS, try a local favorite in our hometown of Monroe, Wisconsin: Rösti (roe-esti) Potatoes. This recipe takes some flipping technique, and it’s essential that you have a non-stick pan to avoid aggravation over the potato mixture that will otherwise stick to the pan. Use waxy-type potatoes (Yukon Gold) rather than the fluffy Russets if you can. In this recipe, we’ve replaced some of the butter with healthier olive oil and a little Swiss cheese to make it cheesier.
4c. gold potatoes, peeled and shredded (4 medium potatoes or 1½ lbs.)
½c. yellow onions, shredded
½c. Swiss cheese, shredded
2cloves garlic, minced
½t. salt
½t. pepper
3T. olive oil
2T. butter
Peel potatoes and shred in food processor or hand grater so that the potatoes resemble those needed for hash browns.
Wash potatoes in cold water to remove excess starch, then place on dry, clean dishtowel. Press down on potatoes with the cloth to remove excess moisture.
Sauté onions with garlic in olive oil in skillet over medium heat for 5 minutes or until translucent, stirring in garlic after about 3 minutes. Set aside.
In a large bowl, mix potatoes, cheese, salt and pepper. Then mix in the onions and garlic.
On stovetop, add 2 T. of oil and 1 T. butter to 12-inch skillet over medium heat. Then add the potato mixture using a spatula to level the potatoes evenly across the pan to create a round loaf about 1½-inch thick. Do not stir potato mixture. Cover the pan, cooking over medium heat for 6 to 8 minutes or until the bottom surface of the potatoes is golden brown. Add more oil as needed. Make sure the potato loaf mixture does not stick to the pan by running your spatula around the edges, then underneath the loaf. If you can slide around the potato loaf when lightly shaking the pan, you’re in good shape. Remove cover and cook the potato loaf an additional 5 minutes, but watch to avoid burning the bottom of the potato loaf mixture.
Prepare a flat baking sheet with a coat of canola oil. Remove skillet from stovetop. With protective hotpads, place the baking sheet over the skillet, then quickly flip over the skillet so that the partially cooked potato loaf drops onto the oiled baking sheet.
Place skillet back on stovetop, adding 1 T. more of olive oil and butter. Slide the round potato mixture, uncooked side down, from the baking sheet onto the skillet. Don’t miss the skillet or you’ll have potatoes all over the counter — or the floor.
Cook uncovered in the skillet for 6 to 8 minutes or until the bottom is golden brown. When completed, remove from skillet by slightly tilting, allowing the finished Swiss Rösti Potatoes to slide out onto a serving dish. Cut 4 pie-shaped wedges into the potatoes.
Serve immediately family style on a large dish with 4 wedge cuts made, as if it were a pie. Or serve an individual slice with a sprinkle of a few nasturtium flowers or colorful bee balm petals.
YIELD: 4 servings.
After the shredded potatoes have been dried and are ready for cooking, mix in some cooked ground beef or sausage to make a meat-potato pizza (as an interesting side dish). Instead of ground beef or sausage, try adding carrots julienned and steamed or sautéed spinach for another vegetarian alternative.
OUR SPUDS GET BUMPED off the plate when our other root crops are ready. This recipe champions the overlooked rutabagas, turnips and parsnips. Who knew the taproot family of veggies (taproot, because they grow vertically downward, tapering in shape) pack more nutritional punch than the potato. Be sure to boil turnips and rutabagas first until they are tender-firm since they don’t cook as fast as the other root crops like beets. Rutabagas and turnips remind us to rethink our food assumptions and to remember to sometimes choose the culinary path less traveled. They’re not just for dinner, either. We serve these Roasted Root Vegetables for a flavorful twist in our morning fare.
8c. beets, turnips, rutabagas and potatoes, cleaned, peeled and chopped into bite-size pieces
2½ t. garlic salt
2T. fresh oregano, finely chopped (2 t. dried)
1½ t. sugar
2T. fresh thyme, finely chopped (2 t. dried)
Mix spices and oil in a glass jar and let set for about an hour or more.
Boil turnips and rutabagas until they are tender-firm since they don’t cook as fast as the other root crops like beets.
Place veggies in a 9 × 13-inch baking pan. Drizzle spice and oil mixture over veggies and toss to coat.
Bake at 425° for 20 to 25 minutes or until tender, stirring occasionally.
Serve immediately as an alternative to a potato side dish.
YIELD: 6 servings.
Americans have a taste for food that’s been seeded, fertilized, harvested, processed, and packaged in grossly energy-expensive ways and then shipped, often refrigerated, for so many miles it might as well be green cheese from the moon…. The global grocery store may turn out to be the last great losing proposition of our species.
BARBARA KINGSOLVER, IN SMALL WONDER
WE TEND TO AVOID CASSEROLES, in general, because most cook the nutrients right out of the dish. As we discovered, there’s no better — and quicker — way to get your “plumbing” working than eating a raw food diet for several meals. You can count on the fiber in the foods to get you going. But most of us, for lots of reasons, enjoy most of our foods cooked, at least a little bit, because it brings out the flavors. That’s why we stand by this tomato casserole, with a crunch from the croutons and a buttery herb flavor infuses the tomatoes. We embrace the funky-shaped and ultra-flavorful heirloom varieties of vegetables and fruits, especially tomatoes. And this recipe puts their flavors and colors on display: reds, oranges and greens, with many other colors in between. It’s a great way to work through some of the bigger tomatoes of your harvest, not fit to sell, share or eat plain perhaps due to a few blemishes, hornworm damage or pecks from the chickens. Cut away the imperfections and you’re good to go. This recipe demands fresh tomatoes.
1t. canola oil
8c. fresh tomatoes (8 medium tomatoes)
2c. prepared croutons (see page 230)
½c. butter, melted
1t. salt
1T. fresh basil, finely chopped (1 t. dried)
1T. fresh thyme, finely chopped (1 t. dried)
¾c. hard granular cheese, grated (Parmesan)
Cut tomatoes into wedges and arrange in a lightly oiled 9 × 13-inch baking pan. Top with bread croutons.
Combine butter, salt, basil and thyme. Drizzle over bread and tomatoes.
Bake at 350° for 20 minutes. Remove pan from oven and sprinkle cheese over tomatoes and bread croutons and bake in oven again for an additional 10 minutes or until tomatoes are tender.
To serve, we often ladle a portion up alongside our Potato Latkes at breakfast, but this dish also makes a great side for lunch or dinner.
YIELD: 6 servings.
As for butter versus margarine, I trust cows more than chemists.
JOAN GUSSOW, ECOLOGICALLY MINDED NUTRITIONIST
CANNING TOMATO SAUCE the traditional way on the stove during the heat of the summer is better left for a different era; let’s call it Plan A. Adding heat to a hot kitchen is the last thing we want to do in August, plus we’ve got so many irons in the fire and potlucks to go to, we just don’t have the time. Our Plan B for tomatoes is implemented after Plan F: tray freezing the tomatoes whole in the freezer, and we put off making any sauce until we have time in the winter, usually on our woodstove. This Plan B oven-roasted tomato sauce is perfect for small batches to freeze and especially helpful if you’re running low on freezer space. It can be a little runnier than canned sauce; to get rid of the excess liquid, we simmer the sauce in a Crock-Pot (or on the cooktop of our woodstove) in the winter.
4lbs. fresh tomatoes, skins peeled (about 8 medium tomatoes)
1c. onions, chopped (1 medium onion)
9cloves garlic, sliced
½t. salt
¼c. olive oil
½t. salt
½c. fresh basil, chopped (3 t. dried)
Cut tomatoes into quarters. Arrange tomatoes in a lightly oiled shallow roasting pan. Sprinkle on onions and garlic, drizzle with oil.
Roast tomatoes at 300° for about an hour or until tomatoes are lightly browned and garlic is tender when pierced with a knife.
Transfer in batches into food processor and process until smooth. Add salt and basil.
Pour into freezer containers to freeze. Defrosted sauce can be used any way you use tomato sauce, like on pizza or pasta.
YIELD: 2 cups.
There are many of us who cannot but feel dismal about the future of various cultures. Often it is hard not to agree that we are becoming culinary nitwits, dependent upon fast foods and mass kitchens and megavitamins for our basically rotten nourishment.
M. F. K. FISHER
THANKS TO THE FREEZER, we’ve found an appropriate use of technology that optimizes the efficiency of our summer harvest while providing a rich, thick tomato sauce for pasta or pizza. We freeze whole tomatoes at their peak ripeness in the summer, cellar our leeks and dry store our onions and garlic. Then in the middle of the winter we let the ingredients simmer away atop our woodstove for a July-like treat that warms the farmhouse with delicious aromas of simmering sauce. If there’s a call for tomato sauce in the summer or early fall, a Crock-Pot serves as an energy-efficient standby.
4lbs. tomatoes, skins peeled (about 8 medium tomatoes)
3c. onions, chopped (about 3 medium onions)
6cloves garlic, minced
½t. salt
2T. fresh basil, finely chopped (2 t. dried)
2T. fresh oregano, finely chopped (2 t. dried)
Defrost tomatoes that were frozen whole, peeling outside skin. Drain off as much water as possible. Sauté onions with garlic. When onions are soft, add tomatoes in chunks, stirring often to mix.
Add herbs and seasonings, stirring often and allowing moisture to slowly simmer off.
Cook this sauce down until it’s thick for a flavorful pasta sauce.
YIELD: 3 cups.
Tomato sauce prepared atop the woodstove.
THIS RICH VELVETY SAUCE for eggs Benedict can be a fancy stand-in for pouring over lightly steamed broccoli or asparagus sides for a dinner meal. Maintain medium heat in a double boiler and whisk the sauce with easy circular stokes, avoiding overcooking (which will cause the sauce to separate). Because of the eggs, this is one sauce you’ll want to enjoy right after it’s prepared. Thanks to John, there’s never any left over in our farmhouse.
3egg yolks
¼c. water, simmering
2t. lemon juice
¼c. butter (½stick)
Whisk egg yolks in a double boiler over low heat. Make sure water isn’t too hot or eggs will curdle. Stir 1 minute.
Add water, 1 T. at a time, whisking constantly. Stir 1 to 2 minutes until thick.
Add lemon juice.
Take off heat and stir in butter.
Serve immediately.
YIELD: 1 cup.
You don’t have to cook fancy or complicated masterpieces — just good food from fresh ingredients.
JULIA CHILD
Todd and Jordan Champagne,
Happy Girl Kitchen,
Pacific Grove, California
“This isn’t boutique or gourmet food artistry,” quips Todd Champagne, who with his wife Jordan started Happy Girl Kitchen Co. in 2002. “Vegetable fermentation is food security. It’s a very easy way of putting real nutritional foods on our table every day, whether in the form of a dill pickle or sauerkraut.”
We gathered on the porch of their home in Big Sur, California, as the sun climbed over the Santa Lucia Mountain Range, warming our bodies while we enjoyed a glass of their Kombucha, an effervescent non-alcoholic fermented tea made from sweetened black tea, cultured with a symbiotic colony of bacteria and yeasts that are believed to promote a more balanced and healthy digestive system.
As it turns out, there are more bacteria cells in our bodies than human cells by as much as nine to one, according to numerous studies, including those by Carolyn Bohach, a microbiologist from the University of Idaho. We’re teeming with upwards of a thousand species of bacteria and micro-organisms, so small that they’re practically invisible. Despite their size, some of these organisms produce chemicals that allow us to capture energy and nutrients from our food, while others help maintain our immune systems. So, eating certain fermented foods can improve our digestive health.
“If you lose access or choose not to use propane or electricity, how do you process your fresh fruit and vegetables?” asks Todd smiling, referring to a time when we weren’t so addicted to fossil fuels to meet our every need. “Fermentation techniques often thrive at room temperatures. These ancient ways developed by our ancestors have both simple and durable recipes that have been passed along for generations.”
“It goes way beyond fresh food storage, however,” Jordan chimes in. “Fermenting vegetables actually increases the nutritional value of whatever it is that you’re preserving, or it makes the raw food more easily digestible. For example, sauerkraut is more nutritious than fresh cabbage — higher in vitamin C and so forth. Plus there’s all those beneficial bacterial that our bodies need to digest foods. Kraut has the same lactic acids as yogurt or kefir, both of which are often acceptable to those who are lactose intolerant.”
Happy Girl Kitchen Co. co-owners Jordan and Todd Champagne.
As millions of Americans have rediscovered, fermentation is a great way to preserve the harvest and eat local year-round. At Happy Girl Kitchen, Todd and Jordan and their staff take fresh organic fruits and vegetables from farms, mostly located within 20 miles of their licensed commercial kitchen, and preserve the harvest one jar at a time. They are also helping others can, too. Building a community of people who share their passion for food preservation, they offer workshops and deliveries of the local harvest in bulk quantities, enabling patrons to preserve the local harvest safely and affordably on their own. They’re striving to do their part to maintain a strong local economy and food system that is more sustainable for all.
“Fermenting vegetables can be a great way to clean up your garden,” jokes Todd. “Fermentation is a living process. You can watch the transformation of your raw ingredients colonized by tiny living things. Louis Pasteur, while marveling at microbial life, discovered ‘pasteurization’ when he used heat to kill those micro-organisms like bacteria, yeast and mold — themselves responsible for the array of unusual tastes many of us so enjoy and which cannot be faked, like blue cheese, miso, sourdough bread and sauerkraut. The taste of fermented foods can be influenced by the seasons and temperature, as well as by the ingredients. You could say, when making some fermented product, there are billions of chefs in the kitchen with you.”
Happy Girl Kitchen Co. co-owner Jordan Champagne and daughter and staffer packing lemons in crocks.
Fermentation and food preservation are ancient in defining humanity’s desire to preserve, aid health or imbue life with an intoxicating spirit, brew or wine. The Scots called whiskey in Gaelic “uisge beatha”: water of life. Fermented foods, whether prepared in a traditional brine solution or distilled with yeast from malted barley, have long appealed to our more primal sense of health and well-being.
Nearly every human culture has its own traditional recipes for foods made using live cultures. The Germans have sauerkraut prepared from green or red cabbage, while the Korean version, kimchee, is made with cabbage but with quantities of other vegetables like carrots, radishes, garlic and onions. Sourdough breads use yeasts. Beer and wine acquire yeast-produced alcohols. Pickles made in the traditional way in a salt brine solution achieve their sourness from acid-producing bacteria, allowing the crunch of fresh cucumbers, perhaps flavored by adding dillweed or garlic — to be enjoyed months later.
“At Happy Girl Kitchen we’re dedicated to preserving the harvest in a variety of ways,” explains Jordan. And now, with Happy Girl Kitchen Café — part kitchen, part retail store and part café — they can invite customers into the lively 2,700-square-foot space to try more than 40 products made in their kitchen, including pickles, jams, marmalades, sauerkrauts, tomato goods and kombucha.
“Some folks simply enjoy stocking their pantry with freshly made and local versions of common condiments, like our country ketchup, says Todd. “They may then want to join others at one of our workshops and learn how to safely make their own. In this way our customers become participants because taste buds often inspire.”
Happy Girl Kitchen’s workshops cover both traditional fermentation and modern-day sterilization preservation processes. “We can cucumbers, for example, in two different ways,” continues Jordan. “One way is vinegar pickling. We heat the jars filled with cukes and vinegar to kill the bacterial life and achieve an airtight vacuum seal, yielding a non-perishable ‘canned’ product. The other more traditional way is fermentation with the use of a salt brine that encourages live culture bacteria (rather than killing them) to over time ‘sour’ the cucumbers along with dill and garlic, with their production of lactic acid. These are the sour dills often sold from deli barrels.”
“On a healthy farm, there is a commitment to diversity of life for the strength and stability of the overall system,” adds Todd. “That’s why at Happy Girl Kitchen we practice many different techniques of food preservation and the many alternative processes, because we all have different tastes. That’s what makes potlucks so fun.”
From their perspective, the widespread concern over the safety of eating or preparing canned foods is largely exaggerated. “Making pickled vegetables at home is so easy and safe,” explains Jordan. “The key is proper acidity. True, when canning there’s a potential to have botulism bacteria naturally present on the fruits and vegetables. It’s a soil-borne bacteria. It’s the proper acidity of your vinegar pickling brine, the natural acidity of the fruit or the addition of lemon juice or vinegar to tomato products that suppresses the growth of this harmful bacteria inside the heat-processed jars — in the anaerobic environment it needs to grow.”
Like Padawan learners, we remain entranced by our lesson. “Because you can’t see or smell a canned product contaminated with botulinum toxin, and because it can be lethal, it makes people nervous,” shares Jordan. “But almost all fruit is naturally acidic enough to avoid this concern. The same is true for tomato varieties intended for canning as well as vegetables, so long as you add a vinegar brine which imparts safe high-acid levels to the finished pickles, typically under the pH of 4.6.”
“It’s the low-acid foods that are most susceptible,” she continues as her daughter Jaya cuddles up at her side. “The bacterium Clostridium botulinum is merely a benign spore that’s commonly found in soil. We actually eat small amounts of it all the time if we’re eating fresh vegetables — like we should be. But when the Clostridium botulinum spores are trapped in an anaerobic environment like inside improperly acidified canned food, it creates a potentially lethal by-product. Knowledge always destroys fear, and that’s why we’re here.”
Of all the food preservation techniques Todd and Jordan practice, it’s working with microbial life, rather than against it, that they most enjoy. “We agree that buying fresh local ingredients in season is important,” concludes Todd, “but we take it a step further with fermentation. By fermenting vegetables, dairy and grains, we foster the live cultures and promote cooperation with visible and invisible life that surrounds us. When we eat fermented foods, we eat this living biodiversity — the bacteria and other beneficial micro-organisms — these invisible members of our foodshed. When we do so, we’re cultivating the local flora and fauna inside and outside our own bodies.” Savoring fermented foods helps reconnect us to this invisible — and super-local — life that surrounds and is inside us — helping us maintain our health.
THESE ARE THE CLASSIC New York-style pickle which are naturally fermented in a sea-salt water brine. Through the years, this pickle continues to be the one that brings up the most childhood memories. Happy Girl Kitchen Co. has heard many stories at farmers markets when someone takes that first bite of a pickle.… “I remember in 1943 going to my first movie and sneaking in one of these nickel pickles to the theater!” Here’s to creating your good memories. Pickling cucumbers are special varieties of cukes ideal for making pickles because they are shorter, often firmer and are harvested when young; they’re commonly found at farmers markets.
1bunch of dill
4grape leaves (optional for crunch)
4t. pickling spices
4lbs. pickling cucumbers
12 cloves garlic
¾c. sea salt
Prepare the clean jars by adding in the dill, grape leaves and pickling spices on the bottom. Next, pack in the cucumbers and garlic trying to occupy as much of the space in the jar as possible.
Mix the salt water solution of 5% salinity: 1 gallon of filtered water to ¾ c. of sea salt (do not use iodized salt as it will retard bacterial fermentation). One half-gallon batch is enough for these 4 quarts. Pour salt water over packed jar, making sure contents are submerged. The lid should be loose to allow air exchange.
Place in 55 to 70° environment and out of direct sunlight. Let sit for 5 to 10 days, tasting occasionally, and refrigerate when desired sourness is achieved. (Skim mold that will form and float on the water surface but do not be afraid of it for it is a natural part of the fermenting process). Store in refrigerator. Best eaten within 2 months. Will keep safely for longer, but crunch and texture will fade.
YIELD: 4 quarts.
A KOREAN NATIONAL PASSION, kimchee is often eaten at every meal, including breakfast — estimates suggest that Koreans eat more than a quarter pound of kimchee every day. Chinese (napa) cabbage is the best to use, according to Happy Girl Kitchen Co., and this recipe usually includes radishes or turnips, scallions and other vegetables, with ginger, garlic and hot red chili peppers. The aromas created are enlivening themselves. Making Spicy Kimchee is very similar to making sauerkraut; however, it’s usually eaten “younger” because it seems to ferment faster, often in 1 to 3 weeks.
4T. sea salt
4c. water (non-chlorinated)
1lb. Chinese (napa) cabbage (or bok choi), chopped
1daikon radish or turnip, chopped
2carrots, chopped
4cloves garlic, chopped
3T. fresh ginger root, grated
3hot red chilies, dried
2onions, scallions or leeks, chopped
Mix a sea salt brine by dissolving 4 T. sea salt into 4 c. water.
Chop the cabbage into ½-inch slices. Since the Chinese cabbage is more delicate than the green cabbage, slice it initially chunkier than you imagine enjoying later, because it will shrink. Chop the carrots and radishes into ⅛-inch pieces. You can use a mandoline or food processor to slice them thinly.
Soak the vegetables in the brine for a few hours or overnight, until they are soft, with the help of a weight to submerge them.
Prepare the spices. Chop the garlic, grate the ginger, crush the chilies and slice the onions, then mix them together and set aside.
Drain the brine off the cabbage and save. Taste the vegetables and judge their saltiness; if they taste too salty, then rinse a bit. If you can’t taste salt, then add a little bit at a time and mix in.
Combine the vegetables and spices.
Pack into a clean glass jar or vessel of choice, pouring over enough of the reserved brine to cover the mixture. Pack it tightly into the jar, pushing out air bubbles.
Weigh down the mixture with a smaller glass jar filled with the extra brine (which you might need later or eat on its own), a plastic bag filled with extra brine or just regularly push it down with your fingers every day.
Ferment in a warm place (not over 70°), like a kitchen counter, for about 1 week or until it’s as sour as you like it.
Remove the weight, cap the jar tightly and store in your refrigerator. Best eaten within 2 months. Will keep safely for longer, but crunch and texture will fade.
YIELD: 1 quart.
SAUERKRAUT IS EASY TO MAKE. Like at Happy Girl Kitchen Co., you just need to create the right conditions and the micro-organisms will do the rest. You’ll be rewarded with crunchy, tangy golden kraut to enliven your winter. The fermentation process may take from 4 to 6 weeks.
5lbs. cabbage, chopped
3T. sea salt
1T. juniper berries (optional) suggested Spices: caraway seeds, celery seeds, garlic
1lb. carrots or Brussels sprouts, chopped
1lb. turnips or beets, chopped
1lb. apples and/or raisins
Chop cabbage into a large bowl, coarse or fine, however you like it.
Sprinkle on the sea salt now and then. Mix the cabbage and salt (and juniper berries) together to distribute the salt evenly. The salt pulls water out of the cabbage and creates a brine where the cabbage (and other vegetables) can ferment without rotting or softening. A note on salt: Use only non-iodized salt, such as sea salt, and non-chlorinated water, as these chemicals inhibit the growth of micro-organisms.
Pack into clean vessel. Tightly push and pack the cabbage down using your hands or kitchen tool, forcing as much air out as possible and encouraging the cabbage to release its juices. A note on fermenting vessel: Many folks use earthenware crocks for making kraut since the wide mouth gives easy access for tamping and cleaning. Other suggested vessels are wide-mouth glass jars, non-reactive stainless steel pots or food-grade plastic buckets (which are all much lighter than crocks).
Cover kraut with a plate or other lid that covers the surface snugly. Place a weight on the cover to help force the air out and keep the kraut pushed under the brine created. A glass jar filled with water or a plastic bag filled with salt brine all work well. Secure a breathable cloth over the container to keep debris out.
Press down on the cabbage over the next few hours to force water out. It may take 24 hours for the brine to rise above the level of the chopped cabbage. Add a salt water solution as needed to cover the cabbage if after a day it remains high and dry. To make salt water solution, completely dissolve 1 T. sea salt into 1 c. of water.
Let fermentation happen! Put the vessel in a cool spot. Check on your kraut every day or two to skim off any surface scum which is just an aerobic phenomenon where the developing kraut has come into contact with air. Don’t worry about it. The kraut below the surface is unaffected and fine. Rinse off your cover and weight to discourage mold from forming on the surface.
After 2 weeks, start tasting the kraut. It will be fully fermented in 2 to 4 weeks at 70 to 75°, or 5 to 6 weeks at 60°. The air bubbles you see rising to the surface, a result of our busy microbe buddies, will become slower and eventually cease once the kraut is fully fermented.
You can begin eating the young kraut anytime to enjoy the evolving flavor as it matures over several weeks. Remember to replace the clean weight on top, adding brine if necessary to keep it covered.
Store in refrigerator and start some more before it’s gone. Pack the kraut tightly in jars and store covered in the fridge for several weeks (or longer). Eventually, the kraut softens and the flavor turns less bright. Rinse the crock and repack it with fresh salted cabbage and add some old kraut to get your new batch started with active cultures. Best eaten within 2 months. Will keep safely for longer, but crunch and texture will fade.
YIELD: 1 gallon.
Fermentation sign at Happy Girl Kitchen Co., Pacific Grove, California.
THE TABLESIDE SHOW of the preparation of a Caesar salad rivals that of a Japanese hibachi grill, where patrons sit and watch their meal being prepared in front of them. There’s more than a show for the Caesar salad. When using these fresh ingredients, the tanginess and creaminess of the dressing that coats the leaves is paired with the crunch of the lettuce and croutons. For vegetarians, omit anchovies, Worcestershire sauce and eggs for a vinaigrette version.
1egg, coddled
1garlic clove, minced
3anchovies
1c. olive oil
1T. Dijon mustard
¼c. red wine vinegar
2t. Worcestershire sauce
½fresh lemon
1t. capers
1head romaine lettuce, torn into 2-inch pieces
½c. hard granular cheese, grated (Parmesan)
1c. homemade croutons (see page 230)
Prepare a coddled egg by bringing water to boil in a small pot. Once boiling, add the egg for about 45 seconds, then remove the egg and set aside in a bowl to cool.
With two forks, chop up and mix together the anchovies placed in a large wooden bowl lined with ¼ cup of the olive oil. Add garlic and continue to whisk with a fork — and if you want to be fancy about it — while also spinning the bowl.
Into this “sauce” mixture, crack the coddled egg, whisking with the fork. Then add the Dijon mustard, red wine vinegar and Worcestershire sauce. Squeeze in lemon juice, continuing to whisk and spin the bowl if you’re trying to impress a special friend, neighbors or the in-laws.
The remaining olive oil should be added slowly while whisking until the dressing is smooth. You want the dressing to emulsify, or mix oil and vinegar into a smooth coating for the salad and croutons (that’s where the coddled egg comes to the rescue).
Add romaine lettuce (making sure most of the water has been removed after washing) and toss, sprinkling in capers and cheese and croutons. Serve immediately.
YIELD: 4 servings.
To help the oil and vinegar mix in the dressing, an emulsifier is needed: the coddled egg. By briefly cooking a fresh egg, coddling it, you’re helping reduce a health risk associated with the uncooked egg, namely the danger of Salmonella. If in doubt, leave the egg out and rely on your whisking abilities to get the dressing smooth and creamy.
BRING SALAD TO CENTER STAGE in the summer by building the rest of the meal around the garden-fresh crunch. Prep the cucumbers in the morning and leave them to marinate in the fridge and you’ll have a salad ready for supper.
2medium cucumbers, sliced
½t. salt
1t. sugar
1T. rice vinegar
1T. fresh dill (1 t. dried)
½c. sour cream fresh dill for garnish (optional)
Mix salt, sugar, vinegar and dill.
Pour dressing over cucumbers. Chill for several hours.
Pour off liquid. Add sour cream and serve with a few sprinkles of dill on top.
YIELD: 4 servings.
CONSIDER THIS RECIPE the summer equivalent of creamed spinach in a salad form. The cottage cheese and sour cream give the salad a comfort food feel. Add a little horseradish if you like a dash of zing.
8c. fresh spinach, washed with stems removed and torn into small pieces (about ½ lb.)
½c. small curd cottage cheese
¼c. sour cream
1c. chopped pecans
¼c. sugar
1½ T. vinegar
¼t. dry mustard
¼t. salt
2t. horseradish (optional)
Mix spinach, cottage cheese, sour cream and pecans in a large serving bowl.
Mix dressing ingredients together in a small bowl, or gently shake it in a jar.
Pour dressing over spinach mixture and serve immediately.
YIELD: 4 servings.
WE LIKE OUR STRAWBERRIES red on the outside — and inside. Not like those mega-mutations grown in California, often with the poison fumigant known as methyl bromide. Banned just about everywhere except in the US, in part, because it destroys the planet’s ozone, this fumigant will likely be replaced by a new poison, methyl iodide. So we stick with our quarter-sized, organically grown, candy-like strawberries, gorging on them in June and freezing any extra. We choose only organic strawberries at a farmers market if we’re on the road — and eat them only when they’re in season. This salad could just as well be called the June Salad, since it’s the only month we’ll savor it on our farm. The dressing helps accent the sweetness of the fresh strawberries and spinach, with a nutty crunch from the chopped peanuts.
8c. fresh spinach, washed with stems removed and torn into small pieces
3c. fresh strawberries, sliced
½c. water
1c. canola oil
½c. salted peanuts
⅓c.honey
3T. apple cider vinegar
Mix spinach and strawberries in large salad bowl.
Blend all dressing ingredients in blender. Pour to taste over salad.
YIELD: 4 large servings.
FORGET ABOUT THE soup-based casseroles to make green beans tasty. It’s a timing thing. Rather than let your green bean plants become overloaded on the vine, pick them when they’re young, tender and succulent. Don’t worry, there will always be some you miss, for those casseroles.
2c. green beans, trimmed
1T. balsamic vinegar
½t. cumin
½t. coriander
½t. salt
Lightly steam green beans until tender, but still have a crunch. Test by seeing if a fork tip will easily penetrate the beans, but if you tried to cut sideways, it wouldn’t.
Place green beans in a serving bowl. Drizzle beans with balsamic vinegar and toss, mixing in sprinkled cumin, coriander and salt. They can be served immediately or refrigerated for later.
YIELD: 4 servings.
The ultimate pantry staple, balsamic vinegar can liven up anything from salad greens to popcorn to vanilla ice cream (surprisingly good), without adding fat or empty calories. The Italian word “balsamico” means “balsam-like” in the sense of “restorative” or “curative.” Quality and price range tremendously for balsamic vinegar, made from a reduced grape juice. Today you’ll see a range made with a blend of artisan-made balsamic combined with boiled grapes or vinegar added. Ideally taste a few balsamic vinegars before spending a cent. Lower-cost commercial balsamic vinegars are typically aged three to five years and work great for salads, marinades or over vegetables. The more expensive versions are aged longer and, like premium olive oils, are what you want to use when the flavor is the focus, like over cheese or ice cream.
