Playing with food

I played with food yesterday.

It started with a craving for green veggies. Something roasted.  Brussels sprouts, roasted slow in the oven, salty as a plate of pommes frites.

(How did I not appreciate this dish until adulthood? My mama says they’re not really a southern food. I love that this is a reasonable explanation between us, as if there was no feasibility of eating outside the north Florida region where pickled beets and sliced tomatoes were served at every meal…Meals like collards, cheese grits, guava jelly, and fried mullet).

Tangy and sweet pickled beets: perfect southern supper accompaniment.

As I began cutting the woody base off of the brussels sprouts,  I accidentally rolled a few off the table. As they tumbled, I found myself appreciating the beauty of unadulterated, fresh vegetables. In this case, teeny cabbages with leaves that roll into themselves to form imperfect, vibrant colored spheres.

After spending some time doodling on the farmhouse table, forming the sprouts into shapes and letters, and thinking about using other vegetables as type (it’s fun! it’s cute! why not?) I tossed them in a bowl with olive oil, sea salt and cracked pepper.

The oven had been preheated to 400, so I spread them on a pan and slipped them in the oven for about 5 minutes, opening the oven every so often to gently shake the pan and distribute heat so all the sprouts are nice and crispy.

You’ll get a beautiful, crisp and brown outer layer and a tender, golden inner layer of brussels sprouts. They can be spiffed up with carmelized onion, roasted garlic, bacon or dried cranberries, but I like them straight up, in a bowl, with a fork.

Eating with intention

Eeek.

I have been away from the blog for a while.

Been spending a lot of time staying up late, eating snacks like this (Goodness peanut butter and almond milk)

and thinking about relationships with food. And working with food. And working, in a sense, for food.

How to eat with more intention is a personal lifelong objective – a satisfying objective that I love to share with others. And, as Alice Waters has said, “I always make (my food) delicious for myself.” I think this kind of deliberate choice encourages intentional eating. Making your food delicious, even for you alone, means a lot more than just liking what you’re putting into your mouth at the moment.

It means really employing all your senses to savor food – enjoying the scent, feel, look, sound and taste of food as it is being prepared and eaten.

This means thoughtful shopping for the freshest ingredients, careful preparation, and  time to savor the taste of the food.

It means relishing things you find at the local farmers market, like these beautiful white eggplant:

(I cut them, salted them and added them to other vegetables for ratatouille).

It means savoring fruit that needs no embellishments, sugars or syrups to highlight its sweetness.

Eating with intention also means constantly learning about food. You have the power to never stop learning about it – it can be a very fulfilling lifetime commitment.

This commitment means lots of living and working around food, and exploring other places where people live, work and eat together.

Like Asheville, North Carolina.

I think this intention thing is such a rewarding endeavor.

As we begin to feel the first (teasing) kisses of fall, I want to make sure this intention stays with me.

Of course, there are always excuses, distractions and temptations to get in the way.

After one too many glasses of wine last night (an excuse),  I definitely hit the all-night Kroger with my friend Adrian for some generic “Fun Munch” ice cream  (a crappy temptation). Out of the carton. My stomach was not happy with this.

Anyway, the point is that when you make intentional eating a priority, eating becomes more enjoyable and makes you feel better. When those times come where you’re not being thoughtful about food, you notice later, and hopefully you file that information away for future use.

I have definitely made a mental note that ice cream after wine is NOT going to make me feel any better in the future. Ick.

But a handful of apricots probably would.

(I had the best apricots from upstate New York earlier this year. I spent probably 3 minutes savoring just one at a time).

And so, this week,  I’m going to be intentional and proactive about my sweets cravings. That means eating food that will help curb these feelings, and enjoying a fresh piece of fruit, or almond milk, or herbal tea, instead of Fun Munch ice cream, or a handful of old butterscotch morsels hiding in the back of the pantry. (#confession).

Do you have any food intentions to share?

Intentional late night snack:

Simmered pears with golden raisins and Greek yogurt

Pears – (I got some really delicious ones from Hendersonville, North Carolina when I was in Asheville last week. They were an Asian variety – Shinko, I think).

Anyway,  take a pear or two and cut into small slices. Put pear slices into a small pot with a small lump of butter and simmer over low. Grate a generous amount of fresh cinnamon stick and a grab a pinch of sugar (or in my case, honey), add to pot.  Add a handful of golden raisins. Continue simmering until pears and raisins are cooked through and soft. Spoon a dollop of Greek yogurt on top and more cinnamon-sugar(or honey). Enjoy with a cup of tea.

Hotter than July

An afternoon jaunt in Jasper, Ga

It’s that time of year again.

Sweltering.  You know, so hot that everything around you seems like it could reverberate.

All life starts to swell up and internalize the heat. The evidence is everywhere: in the sunny colors of the flora, in the sweaty, half dressed bodies of bicyclists making their way through concrete jungle, in the rotund tomatoes and fleshy peaches at market. Despite (or maybe because?) of the sweat and the haze, something about this month seems so…well, sexy. 

It is the time of year when I most enjoy listening to this and this. 

While reading this.

And wearing a dress made of this.

It’s the time of year when I walk here.

The perfect time of year to eat and drink sweet, delightfully pink watermelon.

Like this gentleman.

And a great time to utilize a bounty of eggplant.

The eggplant that is proliferating the markets right now was calling my name a couple of weeks ago. So purple, so perfect looking, I wanted to buy all of it. What to do with a bounty of eggplant? Roasting, sure. Parmesan, or breaded, eh (too pedestrian).

Baba ganoush? Yes! I had never made baba before. The problem with making baba is many whole eggplants do not yield a lot of final product. I grilled and roasted 15 pounds of eggplant and only got a few quarts of baba ganoush out of it. Despite the inefficiency, that stuff is goooood. Made with the same ingredients that are used to make hummus – except the beans – baba ganoush is a refreshing treat with lots of taste and nutrients (most notably, fiber).

It’s also a typical Lebanese and Egyptian dish that has made its way into American tastes in the past decade or so. Hmm. A middle eastern dish that conjures up images of an Egyptian vacation pre-revolution? Definitely sexy.

On an American note: Did you know Thomas Jefferson introduced eggplant to the U.S.? Neither did I.

What you need:

2 lbs of eggplant (at least)

Salt

Olive oil

Tahini (sesame paste) about 2 tbs.

Cumin, about 1.5 tbs

Garlic, chopped fine (how many cloves is up to you and your taste)

Juice from a few lemons (I like lots of lemon)

Half bunch of parsley, chopped fine

Olives (optional).

What to do:

Split the eggplant lengthwise and score. (Make little diagonal incisions so it can cook evenly and quickly).

Drizzle with olive oil and grill over med-high heat for a few minutes, until skin turns slightly brown and the eggplant meat starts to blacken along the score lines.

Take off the grill, place in bowl, and toss with salt and more olive oil. This vegetable loves oil, so don’t be afraid of using it liberally. Place the eggplant, skin up (this will promote even cooking), into a shallow pan, and put into a preheated oven set at 350 degrees.

The eggplant may take a while to roast –  you know it’s done when the skin begins to deflate a little, and when you press it with your hand and it gives readily. If the skin still has whitish looking parts, it’s not ready.

When you take the eggplant from the oven, let cool. Then hold at one end and peel the skin in one fell swoop, or if you’re having some difficulty, use a spoon to scrape the “meat” from the skin; put meat into a bowl.

Add remaining ingredients, stir, and use a fork to mash the mixture until it forms a smooth consistency – or transfer in batches to your food processor and blend until creamy.

Serve with olives and your favorite pita.

Enjoy!

Kickstarted

Well.

After lot of planning, researching, problem-solving, sweating, cooking, sampling, and eating, this business is growing from a tiny roadside table with a rickety chalkboard into a full fledged operation of Goodness. Despite the long days, the short bouts of sleep, and my continuously aching feet, I am feeling motivated, encouraged, and optimistic.

It’s hard to believe that a year ago, this was all just a tiny, peanut of an embryo. You can read about the impetus for Grace’s Goodness in my first ever blog post here. 

Anyway.

Good things are happening.

Good things that include a Kickstarter campaign launch. This launch is crucial to the future of the Goodness business: meeting my goal in the next 44 days will enable the business to get the truck on the streets, making good food more accessible to Atlantans and bolstering GG’s place in the burgeoning street food scene. Click the above link to watch the video by Ramsey Yount (and discover tasty rewards). It is people like you, with a genuine interest in local food and local business, that are shaping this endeavor and encouraging its future. I’m very grateful for you.

Good things are also happening in the form of dang delicious Pearson farm peach gazpacho.

Even babies dig it.

I’ve been enjoying peaches for the past month – a lot of times, I’m tossed one during the farmers market, and I eat it right on the spot, delighting in the inevitable dribbles of sticky nectar on my face and fingers.

You know there are 2,000 varieties of peaches? All with their own unique qualities. I had no idea something I’ve always considered simple – a southern, summer peach – could tell me so much.

From a recent email sent by John Short, of Pearson farm:

Semi-freestone GaLa peaches are yellow flesh, round with little suture and tip, good, bright color, high firmness (now soft!), good quality freestone. Origin: 1992, Calhoun, Louisiana Ag Experiment Station and USDA, Byron, GA. Named for the two states involved in the release. 

Freestone peaches are just what they sound like: peaches in which the meat falls away easy from the pit, or stone. Conversely, clingstone peaches are those in which the hard-headed meat clings to the pit. These are the sweetest kind of peach. I love them for their pretty spots of red and dark pink that shock the meat of the peach nearest to the pit.

I’m not usually a gazpacho lover, as the cold soup often reminds me of eating salsa with a spoon.  And who wants to do that? Instead, I’ve thought: cold peach soup…gazpacho…fresh peach and refreshing cucumbers…voila! A delectable gazpacho, waiting to happen.

After a little research and some experimenting in the back of the 5 Seasons Brewing kitchen, the peach-cucumber gazpacho turned out quite lovely. The combination of sweet peach with the cool cucumber, a bit of heat from cayenne, and a touch of salt make this slightly complex, earthy and refreshing. Goodness has been offering it at the farmers markets, and it has been selling like crazy.

Of course, you can make it at home, if you have the time.

Here’s what to do:

Buy a crate of fresh Pearson farm peaches. They’re available all over right now, and they’re way better than what you’d get at any store. Just get yourself to the nearest farmers market.

Take those peaches, and rinse them, rubbing the fuzz gently to remove any residues. Put a big pot of water to boil on the stove, and add the peaches. Let them sit in the boiling water for about 3 minutes. While this is happening, fill a large bowl with ice water. Use a slotted spoon to remove the peaches from the boil, and plunge them in the ice water. You are blanching the peaches – this makes it super easy to remove the skins.

De-skinned peaches: still pretty.

Next, slide of the skins with your fingers. Just give the peach a little pressure near the top, and give a little pull – the skin will come right off. Reach into the peach and grab the pit and dispose of it. Do this until all peaches are pitted and skinned.

Now, peel and de-seed a handful of cucumbers. The number of cukes you use determines the presence of cucumber taste in the gazpacho: use more if you really want to taste them, as they are much more mild than the peaches. I like to peel a few extra to add along the way while I’m tasting. Cut the cukes into medium slices and add to the peaches; transfer this, in small batches, to a food processor.

Chop one bunch of fresh cilantro; squeeze fresh lemon over the herb.

Add this to the processor, in addition to:

1/4 of a bulb of garlic, 5 tablespoons of sea salt, 1/4 c. champage or white wine vinegar, 1 tablespoon of your favorite olive oil, a few shakes of cayenne pepper, and a few shakes of cumin.  Taste along the way, adjust seasonings to your liking.

After mixture has been processed and is smooth, put the soup in a sieve placed over a pot to refine the soup and make it extra silky. Garnish with a cucumber relish – cukes, lemon, garlic, parsley, olive oil is a good start. Embellish from there according to your preferences (add onion, cilantro, chives)…

Enjoy!

Hope to see you all at a farmers market sometime soon.

A bride, a groom, a wedding worthy chicken salad

I first met Sam and Shannon a few years ago, when I tagged along with Daniel – before we were actually dating – to a barbecue at their house. Shannon was an adorable host, befriending me immediately and offering cocktails on the spot in between singing along to whatever music happened to be playing. Sam sported an outrageously long beard and greeted me with a warm southern drawl.

Someone eventually produced a beer funnel, and the night got hilarious from there. I felt totally at ease – and entertained  - by these genuine, welcoming people.

Fast forward a year and a half, and I’m catering their wedding.

I  couldn’t have been more excited, and Sam and Shannon were great to work with: I dreamed up a menu in February, and Shannon approved of it with lots of “oh my GAWD that is going to be just WONDERFUL’s!”

I was nervous: 110 people! I usually make food in mason jars. I need employees! I need more kitchen space! I need a plan! What if I burn something? What if someone chokes on a bone while eating the chicken?

The wedding was this past Saturday.

Sam and Shannon were totally at ease, and absolutely in love.

The food went off without a hitch.

I was delighted and honored to be a part of Sam and Shannon’s big day.

The menu:

Hand pulled chicken with whole grain mustard bbq, chipotle vinegar bbq, Breadwinner buns

Freshly herbed chicken salad with dijon and white wine

Shells and extra sharp cheese with bechamel sauce

Local strawberry and spinach salad with balsamic vinagrette

Pickled okra

Favors of pimento cheese and black eyed pea hummus

The chicken salad was something that was made up on the spot, and I was surprised how many compliments it received.  The day before the wedding, my friend Cristina helped chop an assortment of herbs, and my mom eyeballed the amount of dijon mustard the chicken would need, while I tossed in a touch of white wine, mayo, onion and celery.  We tasted the concoction and added fresh lemon juice, sea salt, cracked pepper, and more mustard until we got it perfect. The mustard adds a dimension to the salad that is lacking in the traditional mayo-drenched varieties. An abundance of fresh herbs brought out a light, green flavor that my mom describes as ” very spring-y.”

Wedding worthy chicken salad

1 whole Springer Mt. farms chicken

1/4 onion

1-2 stalks celery

Dijon mustard

2-3 lemons

Dry white wine

Organic mayo (just a tad)

A big bunch of fresh herbs (I used rosemary, oregano, thyme and parsley)

Fresh radish

Roast your chicken. Allow it to cool, then pull all chicken off the bone, removing skin. (Using white and dark meat gives much more flavor).  Chop the onion and celery; add to chicken while blending in mayo – not a lot, about 1/2 a cup – and a few tablespoons of mustard. Pour in a dash of wine while continuing to blend. Finely chop herbs and add to mixture – don’t be afraid, add lots (fresh herbs would make cardboard taste good). Stir while adding the juice of 1 or 2 lemons. Sprinkle judiciously with sea salt and cracked pepper. Taste for balance and add lemon juice, wine, and mustard as needed.  Refrigerate over night to allow the flavors to marry; add extra lemon juice before serving. Slice radishes and use as garnish.

Congratulations, Sam and Shannon. I know the future has lots of exciting things in store for y’all.

Oops…you were promised a recipe for spring pea salad and lemongrass cream! That will come next.

All photos courtesy of the talented (and handsome) Daniel Stabler. 

What can we do?

Photo by Dusty Compton, AP/ The Tuscaloosa News

There are currently a plentitude of articles describing the aftermath of hell-bent tornadoes. After so many ravaged the south last week, I read several to figure out how Grace’s Goodness could contribute help.

I came across a particularly poignant piece of news that had tears threatening my eyes while reading about people in the embryonic stages of helping rebuild homes, schools, neighborhoods, and entire communities.

Photo courtesy of Getty images

From a New York Times article entitled, In Tornado Zone, Many Ask, ‘How can we help?‘:

Chris and Rachel Stephens, a couple in their 20s whose home was spared, cooked a batch of apple pancakes and headed to a heavily damaged Tuscaloosa neighborhood. They hung a sign — “Free hope pancakes for all!” — figuring a little comfort food might take people’s minds off the emotional toll.

In a time of loss and panic, a couple remembers that tornado victims need more than the basics. They need to be loved, and they need to be comforted.

Photo by Erik S. Lesser

How better to comfort each other than with thoughtful food?

When disaster strikes, we find ourselves scrambling to meet basic needs:  clothing, toiletries, shelter, food, water. When I picture having most of my personal items destroyed, and living in someone else’s space temporarily, borrowing clothes and transportation and relying on other people for food and water, I picture myself wading through various states of shock and disbelief and anxiety.

Forget about farmers markets and backyard herbs and meals from scratch. Get used to canned goods, dried foods, bottles of water and whatever else has been graciously donated from the depths of someone else’s pantry. Right?

I’m sure we can do more.

If you’re not already familiar, Greg Brown of Greenleaf Farms has had quite a year: a heart condition deterred him from tending his land this past winter. Admirable local networks (including Crop Mob Atlanta and Georgia Organics) worked to raise money to help defray his medical costs and enable him to keep his farm in good working order.

Exactly one week ago, I was delighted to see Greg and his wife, Maeda, at Decatur farmers market, their booth boasting a load of gorgeous produce and flowers. With easy going, sincere and friendly demeanors,  the Browns worked the market as if  the past few months had consisted of a straight, paved road instead of one riddled with precarious potholes.

Greg and his Greenleaf Farms bounty

I traded them a jar of cheese for some gorgeous produce – chard, carrots and a giant beet that Maeda promised me would not be woody. Greg explained: beets with hard, thick stems in the middle will have a woody texture and less taste. The beets without such stems are delicious despite their mammoth size.

The market was suprisingly busy for a day when the clouds were especially ominous and the wind was incredibly strong.  Stormy skies loomed above vendors as we packed up and began to digest the severity of weather reports for the night.

Fortunately for Atlanta, the metro area was spared the havoc of the worst tornadoes to hit in 100 years.

Unfortunately for the Browns, their greenhouse was not spared. The tornado decimated it.

How can we help local, sustainable role models in times of need?

How can we help people in north Georgia, in Alabama, and in other hard-hit areas of tornado tragedy?

Grace’s Goodness will be donating one dollar of every jar sold in May to the Browns. We also will be accepting donations at the farmers market. These donations will go directly to a food fund. This summer, the fund will be utilized to turn local ingredients into homemade nutrition bars for tornado victims.

Click here to donate to Greenleaf Farms. Visit Greg and Maeda at Decatur farmers market today between 4 and 7pm and buy something delectable from these resilient people!

Due to a large catering event, GG will not appear at the Decatur farmers market today. Look for us on Saturday!

Next post: english pea soup with lemongrass cream

Making friends and making up recipes

I’ve been making a lot of pimento cheese lately.

Consequently, I’ve been jarring – and selling –  a lot of cheese, too.  And other treats.

Which means: I’ve been enjoying the farmers market more than ever.

The perfect weather helps, of course, but the best thing about working the market is the people.

I have a friendly regular customer who comes on Wednesdays in tow with her adorable dog. The dog’s name is Gracie (!!!)

Gracie the dog customer.

I also have a wonderful customer who I’ve developed a sort of friendship with. I genuinely feel happy to chat with her when she stops by the market. She tells me about her daughter, who is in high school. I tell her similar stories of myself and my friends, when we were the same, strange age.

Rocket, hiding in a tree.

On Saturdays, I get to observe the bashful, redheaded and completely adorable Rocket, son of Maria, of (delectable) Little Red Hen Bakeshop. Last Saturday, he was enamored with climbing a dogwood at the front of the market. He was not so enamored with my picture taking.

Customers of the day

I also get to meet new people all the time, people who often are first-timers to the market. You can tell they are new to the market by the look on their faces, and by the extra time they spend looking around at all their shopping options.

With happy, joyful seasons like this, there isn’t really time for the asparagus-scallion pie with homemade crust I’ve had my eye on making.

I’ve noticed I do more elaborate cooking not only when I’m not as busy, but when I’m not in such a happy place. Something about focusing on ingredients and measurements and temperatures distracts me from whatever wrench life has thrown into things.

Anyway.

There’s always time to throw something in the slow cooker. 7-hour cooked Riverview farm pork? When does that not sound good?

There wasn’t much to it: root vegetables, a little olive oil, sea salt, a dash of soy sauce and sherry wine, and a big hunk of meat, all sitting in a tightly enclosed Crock Pot taking up space on my kitchen counter. I turned it on “low’ for the first couple of hours, and then turned it up a notch for the rest of the time. Remember, you can always add cooking time to a piece of meat, but you can’t subtract it.

This was the start to a slow-cooked pork shoulder that provided several days’ worth of memorable meals.

Like a very tasty dinner of carnitas complimented by bok-choy radish slaw. (Also, homemade nachos, pork sandwiches, pork and cardamom roasted vegetables).

This “slaw” was born from leftover remnants of vegetables that desperately needed to be used so I wouldn’t, with guilt and sadness, toss a wrinkled, too soft turnip into the trash (I am not currently composting, but that’s another story).

It was the perfect pairing for the salty, juicy pork, and I actually ate more of it as a sort of side salad after I was done eating carnitas.  The bite of the turnip and the crisp little leaves of bok choy added a subtle complexity that the carnitas would have never had on their own.

I was very satisfied with this vegetable salvation, and realized that making up your own recipes, especially to help cut down on food waste, is quite fulfilling.

Anyone can do it – especially if you have a few pantry essentials on hand, like onion, garlic, olive oil and sea salt.

So, that’s it.

No recipe with written out directions today…just a loose description of the preparation and ingredients.

Get creative, and do what you think will taste good.

Taste along the way.

Enjoy.