Miss Me? Confessions of a Lapsed and Lazy Blogger

I haven't been around for a while ... been mulling over the pros and cons of blogging and trying to figure out the aim of my site. After all, the Food Revolution is a pretty big topic and a pretty big deal -- how to do it justice? In truth, I have spent a lot of time the last few months debating the merits of social media in general. One day I feel compelled to join Facebook so that I can be part of the mass ego-sharing, the next day I imagine online conspiracies aimed at secretly documenting my every move and comment. In any case, I have spent some serious thought time on the subject of blogging, mostly in lieu of actually writing about it.

Patio Farm at this moment both thrives and languishes. The tomatoes are busy and gangly and strangely heavy for their feathery appearance. The bean leaves bravely diminish into papery sheets, the cucumbers yellow at the edges and, the peppers betray that clearly someone has been taking precise half-moon bites from them on the sly. There have been seasons worth of concerns and thrills as the first year of Patio Farm evolved. Triumphs of the carrot harvest. Giggles at the two tiny turnips I grew, crooked and narrow and looking nothing like a turnip. Wonder watching the process of blooming my immigrant poppies, so delicate and ephemeral but vital in the far corner of my garden. Each event has seemed so normal each day, unremarkable and at the same time the most exciting thing in my sphere of experience. What seemed so mundane a few months ago now I remember as being the crux of a season or lifespan of some plant friend or another. And yet I have actively avoided writing about any of it for fear that it may not be worth recording. Or that I may not be worthy of recording it.

Part of my reluctance has been in view of the anniversary of My Food Revolution. About a year ago I made a drastic break from my normal life and decided to explore the possibilities of pursuing my heart-felt passion for food and letting some of my previous expectations about career and achievement fall to the wayside for a while. A year later I revisit my priorities and reevaluate both my mission and also my desire to write about it. Why revolt? Why write? Why share? Why not?

I don’t know. But I am still compelled to document my adventures in Patio Farming somehow, if only as a personal record of my seasonal activities and their failures and successes. To that end I am trying something new at http://www.patiofarmer.tumblr.com/, for any who care to chart the course of my experiment in urban farming. I plan to continue My Food Revolution as well, but not sure yet the form or direction that it will take. Of course this will continue to be the repository of my list of food books and food movies. After all, my research and learning still runs strong and I am daily amassing evidence about the power of vegetables.

My heart still lies firmly in the heart of the Food Revolution. Viva comida! Viva la revolucion!

Garden Stories

Blake was confident that he would close this deal today. With a little charm and a briefcase full of earnest money, soon this useless farmland would be transformed into the biggest MegaFood franchise yet. And he stood to make a tidy profit on the deal…so it was clearly win-win all around. 



Garden Stories

Hugh was pleasantly surprised at how quickly he had adapted to the change from builder to farmer – but then, so many of the tools and skills were the same. The Great Recession had done him an unexpected favor and he was glad to be nurturing the soil now instead of paving over it.

Garden Stories Exhibit

Worms!

I spent some enjoyable time digging up worms in my garden and relocating them to pots with old roots & leaves. My strategy is to keep on distributing worms throughout Patio Farm and also to continue to dump coffee grounds and bury leaves and scraps. Already my soil is fluffier than when I started. These little guys are just awesome, so wiggly and so helpful.

Carrot Harvest

One of my favorite things about growing food is harvesting ... especially the excitement and satisfaction of pulling something out of the ground. I planted carrots in a few pots in September, and have been lovingly watering them and waiting impatiently for the carrots to grow large.

With low light and cooler weather, it has taken a good 6 months for that to happen. Six months! I find it amazing that it can take 6 months to grow a carrot, but that you can buy them at the store for less than a dollar a pound. My appreciation for the energy and effort that it takes food to grow was enhanced by my waiting and watching over these guys all fall and winter.

So, finally the big day arrived and Ryan and I took turns pulling out carrots until we had the full haul -- one 12" terracotta pot full of carrots. Sweet, crispy and each with its own personality and adorable shape. Lucky me! The next step is to make tajine, one of my favorite carrot recipes... 

Garden Stories

Wendell had sworn up and down that he would always defend his rights to tend his land and to grow his own food as he saw fit as a small American farmer. But he never anticipated this would mean fending off the GMO-fueled caterpillars that showed up this Spring, ravenous after devouring the monoculture crops at the neighboring mega-farm.

Refrigerator

The refrigerator can offer an illicit glimpse into the culinary recesses of one's psyche. Everyone has one, and it is often an area that feels more private than public, despite being centered in the home and accessible to all. One of the first things that I do when going to a friend's house is check their fridge. I am drawn to it out of curiosity, sometimes hunger, and a sense of intimacy. After all, only a close friend would be bold enough to casually survey the fridge, poking through drawers in search of a snack. A good friend of mine, one who has frequent access to my refrigerator, recently made a comment about my refrigerator organizational strategy that got me thinking about just how much this ubiquitous appliance says about each of us... 

What is your relationship to food? To cooking? Are you organized? Do you tend to horde things for fear of wasting them? How high is your tolerance for clutter? Are you adventurous? A creature of habit? How much time do you spend at home? So many things that a refrigerator can reveal ... let's see what mine has to say! 

To start with, the outside of the fridge says a lot. Mine is an old one that came with the house, still works but probably not the most energy efficient model. While I cannot afford to buy a new one (my motto regarding appliances is "it only gets replaced if it breaks"), I often dream of a slimline Energy-Star model with side-by-side doors and freezer below. Alas, this one has served me well and will continue to do so, I hope. 

I have been collecting refrigerator magnets for more than 15 years now, and the best are proudly displayed in my kitchen, front and center. They are my antidote to compulsive souvenir buying on trips, and I have managed to accumulate about 30 states and 10 different countries --- some contributed by travelling friends and acquaintances. The newest one always goes in the center of the freezer door -- the place of honor. Along with my magnets, I also have the current schedule for YMCA exercise classes (working off the proverbial last 10 pounds -- forever!), drawings by our young friends, and the running grocery list. This last item is of particular importance ... we just started keeping the grocery list on the fridge recently and I have found that it is a brilliant strategy. Any time that I realize we will need something at the store I write it down right away. That way, all of our shopping gets done once a week, and we are hardly ever without a key ingredient. After all, preparedness is essential to improvisational cooking. 

Next we take a look at the inside.  This is the heart and soul, the center of the fridge. Have you ever visited a friend or relative and looked in their fridge to only find Diet Coke and a stick of butter and last week's take out and wondered how they survive? Well, my fridge is nothing like that. I spend an inordinate amount of time every day either thinking about, cooking, or eating food ... and the fridge bears witness to the fact that we are well stocked and frequent at-home eaters.

I have a very basic organizational system. Top shelf is ready-to-eat foods, things that are already cooked and packaged for lunch or snacking. Easy to find first thing in the morning when half asleep and rushing off to work. I take pride in the fact that Ryan and I both go to work with lunch bag in hand each day. The second shelf is raw ingredients: greens, veggies, tortillas --things that are fresh and should be used quickly. This is also the overflow shelf for when we have too many leftovers, which happens a lot. The bottom shelf is for staple items that we know are there, but don't need to see so much -- eggs, Limoncello, yogurt, celery, plastic wrap. There is the Cheese Drawer, the upper right-hand one, that also holds tofu and Soyrizo. Then the lower left-hand drawer is the salad drawer, home to radishes, red cabbage, beets, green onions, herbs, etc. And finally there is the fruit drawer on the lower right. What's nice about this system is that we always know where to put things when we get home from grocery shopping, and we always know where to find it when we are hungry. Every once in a while, around holidays especially, the fridge gets over filled and out of order and it is no longer apparent what there is to eat, or cook with and I get a little anxious. An orderly fridge is the sign of an orderly home and an orderly mind. For someone who loves everything in its place, the fridge is often a reflection of my mental state.

Now, on to the door. This is pretty straightforward, no special system here. But the contents are definitely a clue to our favorite flavors and tastes. In the Handi Bin, hiding behind the retro brown doors, is organic unsalted butter from grass-fed cows. A splurge maybe, but worthwhile for both the conscience and taste buds. The other door is hiding some film for Ryan's Holga camera. We have chili paste for making spicy dishes, and Dijon mustard for salad dressing. Several varieties of mom's homemade jam -- blueberry and peach at the moment -- these are saved for toast on weekends or special occasions, never to be used for peanut butter and jelly. A gel eyemask for especially bad headaches lives in the top bin, along with a bag of ground flaxseed for putting on hot cereal in the morning. There is the maple syrup, 100% real from trees, no substitutions are tolerated. Of course, Sauvignon Blanc for cooking (everything tastes better with a little wine) and some homemade Limoncello given to us by friends -- very good in margaritas. Finally, there is the Mr. Suisse, as whipped cream is known in our home, to be used on anything remotely dessert like, and also as a treat for a our little cat Casey. She stands on her hind legs and licks it off of Ryan's finger.  

The last stop on this journey is the freezer, perhaps the least visited area of the fridge. Now, it does not look very elegant, but there is definitely good stuff in here. I have bags of frozen melon from The Farm this summer, all three colors of melon, and have discovered that it is possible to make fantastic margaritas (with Limoncello!) and also a very nice sorbet, both with little effort and some frozen melon. I also have bags of frozen stock ingredients -- fennel stems and fronds, corn cobs, leek tops, and Parmesan cheese rinds. These are all super easy to pull from the fridge when making stock or broth and they add some lovely flavor as well as using up the otherwise disposable left-overs from other cooking projects. We have edamame, for Monday night Salad Night. And also frozen berries for Ryan's morning yogurt. The bright blue cylinder is a diamond-shape ice cube mold for special occasions. There are still two bags in the way back of frozen pumpkin puree from this fall, destined to become pumpkin custard. And the cheese grater and butter are in the freezer because I wanted to try out a new method for making biscuits ... but forgot the butter entirely instead, because it was in the freezer.  

So this is a candid portrait of my psyche in shades of food, organization and obsession. A glimpse into what it might be like to live in my shoes (or stomach!) for a day. I wonder what your fridge has to say....

Kitchen Tip: Burnt Pots

It happens even to the best of us ... burnt dinner. My recent nemesis was marinara sauce. This is the second time that it's happened, there must be something about slow cooking tomatoes that causes my kitchen senses to be derailed and my pot bottom scorched. Now I use some very nice cookware -- Le Crueset, to be specific -- with heavy bottoms and industrial-strength non-stick enamel interiors .... however even such culinary luxuries cannot prevent the occasional charred pot bottom. 

This time, it was bad enough that there was a thick layer of black stuff (burnt onions and fennel) on the bottom of the pot and I caught Ryan trying to vigorously scrub it off using only elbow grease and the dedication that true love and a full stomach brings to washing dishes. My solution -- one that came to me in one of those out-of-the-blue epiphany moments -- worked wonders and saved tons of time spent scrubbing and cursing. I filled the pot with an inch or two of water, added a generous amount of baking soda, and cooked it on the stove top. The baking soda magically lifted the charred bots off the pan and allowed some gentle scraping with a wooden spoon to do the rest. Ta da! My beautiful stock pot back in action and hours of scrubbing saved for something more worthwhile ...

Preserved Lemons: Part 1

Preserved lemons have been on my To Do list for a while, ever since we had them at a Moroccan restaurant in Indianapolis last Spring. Ryan is a die-hard tajine fan and our savory and luscious lamb tajine was presented with a garnish of sliced preserved lemon, which had a tangy, tart and alluring flavor. 


Since February is citrus season in Arizona, and since I was blessed with thee bags full of lemons and oranges and grapefruits from a friend, I decided that now was the time. A little internet research yielded some pretty simple instructions: wash the lemons, cut the tip ends off, cut an "x" in each from one end to about an inch from the other end, stuff generously and vigorously with coarse sea salt, and then pack tightly in sea salt in a jar and let sit for a month or so. So the initial steps have been completed and I now have a jar of salty lemons sitting in the fridge, dated and waiting for an early-March tajine binge. This will be very exciting. 

Patio Farm Internship

One of the responsibilities of the today's farmers is to educate others about the importance of growing food. With the number of farmers dwindling, and the links between farm and table becoming increasingly invisible to the average urban eater, it is vitally important that each of us spend the time and energy to share our love and knowledge of farming. Patio Farm was recently lucky enough to host our own farmer-for-a-day intern and to share the simple pleasures of planting and harvesting. 


The first farm chore was starting seedlings for summer crops. Using an indoor greenhouse for pre-season planting we started lemon cucumbers, sweet cherry peppers, yellow pear tomatoes, Tiny Tim cherry tomatoes and some hollyhocks. Farming requires two personal characteristics that are often difficult to cultivate: advance planning and delayed gratification. Starting seedlings is a perfect example of this, and it was well worth the effort and mental discipline. This week the seedlings started to pop up their first sets of leaves. 

Our next task was a full-scale crop harvest. One of the first things that I planted in September when I started Patio Farm was radishes. Radishes are the darlings of children and impatient farmers alike, as they only take 3 to 4 weeks from planting to grow and mature into a harvestable vegetable. Unfortunately, these seed packet statistics assume that there is adequate sunshine and so it has taken several months instead on my shady patio for the crop to mature. Nevertheless, we had an abundant harvest and made room for some new seeds to be planted. 

Feed the soil, not the plant. This is great advice and reminds us that our relationship to food production is more than just planting and harvesting, it also includes stewardship of the earth. On Patio Farm we have a strategy for feeding the soil that includes digging holes and putting green scraps and coffee grounds in them to boost the levels of organic matter and nitrogen. So I had our intern dig a new hole for me ... a task that is incredibly satisfying. We were lucky enough to find several earthworms during our excavation and took the opportunity to export a few of them to one of the large planters to further share the wealth of the farm and continue to improve the soil. Earthworms are one of my greatest accomplishments on Patio Farm. My planter beds are pretty much a closed system, and yet the worms somehow appeared and have proceeded to multiply. I am so proud of my worms. (There is one on the picture below ... can you find it?)

The last farm chore was planting. We planted some white turnip, French breakfast radishes, and purple Russian kale. We are still on Spring crops here in the desert, and hoping for a few more months of salad vegetable production before the heat sets in and delicate greens are replaced with heartier summer crops. The kale has already sprouted, the radishes are up as well and I am now only waiting for the turnips to poke through and start growing. Each day is truly exciting as I survey the farm for signs of growth and change. 

After a full day of farming, we were tired, dirty and a little hungry too. We washed our hands (and feet!), put our tools away and finished up the day with a final treat: carrot harvest! We pulled some choice carrots from the ground and enjoyed them with a few of the radishes and a little dash of salt. Food definitely tastes better when you have put your heart and mind into it. 

Garden Stories

Clayton had always believed that a good offense was the best defense. Especially now, with Big Government trying to force innocent citizens to buy insurance and eat vegetables and join a gym .... Armageddon was surely coming soon. But not before he would take matters into his own hands.

Beginning Spanish for Farmers

Being a farmer here in Arizona (or probably most other places) means that at least a little bit of Spanish is required for day-to-day communication and pleasantries. Now, I spent my entire childhood education learning French, so Spanish has been something of an interesting challenge for me, but one that I am enjoying.

I am lucky enough to work with some very nice hombres and they have taken it upon themselves to teach me some functional Spanish for the farm. Mostly at this point I know vegetables, numbers, and some basic verbs -- enough to get me through a day of harvesting. I can say necesito diez bunches nabos blancos por favor (I need ten bunches of white turnips please) and gracias para su ayuda (thank you for your help)  and donde es la jefa? (where is the boss lady?) and many other similar things. But I am always trying to add a few new words to my vocab, and I teach the guys some new words as well. It is a nice cultural exchange.

Today I had a customer come by in the afternoon and need a pound of dill. This is one of the Rainbow Valley ladies who make beautiful fresh cheese here in AZ and one of our old farmers' market buddies. So of course I told her "no problem, I can get that for you right away". I rushed right over to los hombres and let them know what I needed: "hola, nesecito comeré una libra de dill mas rapido, por favor".  And then, to get my point across that I needed it right away, I waved my hands in the air and shouted "ándale!"  and laughed. The guys looked at me, said something in Spanish that I didn't catch and pointed to the row of dill and asked "una libra?" I said "si, gracias" and walked off. A few minutes later, one of the guys came over with a pound of dill, which I gave to the cheese ladies and off they went. 

Well, because I am trying hard to learn farm Spanish I checked with the foreman, Carlos, later on in the day about my new word comare. "Carlos, what does comeré mean in English?"  I asked. "It means to eat" he replied and I burst out laughing. I had demanded that the guys eat a pound of dill, very quickly, and then waved my arms and said "get on with it!" Turns out that the word I was looking for was cortar .... to cut. It was indeed a good day on the farm.

Centurion

Mmmmmmmmmmm. Mmmm mmmm mmmm.

That is exactly how I feel after eating the most delectable happy hour snacks at Centurion here in blossoming Downtown Phoenix. We were walking by earlier today to get some coffee beans from our local roaster, when we stopped to peruse the menu of this tiny yet compelling eatery, relatively new in the area. As I oohed and ahhed over the menu descriptions, I noticed that the chefs were looking out the window at us and waving. So, naturally I went inside to check it out. I was intrigued.

Hours later, after failing to entice a few girlfriends to join me for a happy hour snack, my gallant husband offered to take me there instead. The only customers in the tiny interior dining room, we were treated to the pleasure of watching our chefs prepare for the (fully booked!) evening meal and listening in on the typical back-of-house chatter that happens at any restaurant during the twilight hour between lunch and dinner.

Our selections from the HH menu included chef's choice cheese plate, hot cashews, manchego and chorizo risotto and spinach and shitake mushroom risotto. The second risotto order was placed at the end of our meal when we really just needed more wonderful flavors to enjoy. We were not ready for the experience to be over. The meal was accompanied by $3 chef's special wines ... tasty, luscious and perfect with the food.

It would be hard to say that one item was the highlight of the meal, only because they were all a spectacular experience individually. The hot cashews were sauteed with garlic, paprika and red onions and had a burst of meaty, nutty flavor that was addictive. It was hard not to eat one bite right after another. The cheese plate was a dainty selection of cheeses with foccacia, mustard, raspberry jam, fig preserves and blackberries. The selections meshed supremely well, with bold complimentary flavors. But maybe the risotto really stole the show. Our first choice of manchego and chorizo risotto was creamy, subtle, rich, and perfectly balanced. It was all that I could to to restrict myself to tiny bites to make the enjoyment last longer. Of course, a second risotto had to follow the first, and I was still exclaiming all of the way home at how good my mouth still tasted. I have now vowed to learn to make risotto that is somewhere in the ballpark of Centurion's.

The entire personalized experience was heightened by the warmth of the staff -- Chef Eric, Chef Matt and Maitre' D Michelle. I was given a micro tour of the kitchen and treated to an insider's view of the operations of a small European Fusion kitchen brigade. Next time I will be sitting at the bar and peering over to intently absorb every movement and nuance of the Chefs at work.

Needless to say, I am a happy girl at the moment. I have no interest whatsoever in being productive for the rest of the evening and I will probably be begging someone to accompany me back to Centurion at the soonest possible occasion.

Radish Poem

I have the urge to plant new things at Patio Farm. The threat of frost is probably past here, and I have some newly cleared space in my garden. I was browsing through seed catalogues online and looking up photos of veggies on Google when I stumbled across a poem on radishes. I was touched. I love the humble, frivolous radish. I am glad that someone else is inspired, as I am.

Spoon River Vegetables
Radish
--GC aka BB

It is true.
I have squandered my life.

While the frugal celery
strove to tower,
and the conscientious pepper
struggled for dignity,
I was busy admiring the way
my healthy-rosebud-complexion
spread so evenly over
my satin polished skin,
taut over my
luscious rotundity.

I loved it there
in my darkness.
I relished the warmth
of the moist lover
enveloping my swelling belly.

How was I to know
I wore green flags on my head?

But I have never been angry.
I have no regrets.

When they pulled me
from the ground
the earth kissed me goodbye.


 
Poem found by chance at Bossy Betty blog.

Butternut Squash Soup With Jalapeno and Ginger

Winter is soup time.

While I am actually a big fan of soup year-round, there comes a point in fall when I celebrate the start of soup season and begin dreaming about big steamy pots of soup simmering on my stove top. There is potentially no better way to scent the entire house. My husband invariably comes down the stairs, lured by the smell of onions and wine or herbs, and exclaims at how great it smells. The great thing about soup is how well it keeps and what an easy and delicious lunch it makes for the rest of the week. There is nothing easier than taking a container of soup to work with you and heating it up. And no better lunch on a chilly day.

Soup is mostly an improvisational undertaking for me. I spend up-front time imagining what might taste good, considering what is in season, or in the fridge, and what I might combine to satiate my particular soup craving. There is nearly always at least a day of daydreaming that precedes any cooking and it builds the anticipation and excitement. "Guess what kind of soup I am going to make!" I'll say to just about anyone, and then launch into a description of my imagined soup extravaganza. Because of the extemporaneous nature of my soups, it is not often that we eat the same one twice. But the butternut squash soup here is a family favorite and has been made countless times in just about this exact form, because it is hard to make it any better.

I have actually not really liked many of the butternut soup recipes that I have tried in the past -- most of them are either too plain (just pureed squash!) or too sweet. This one has a spiciness and a warmth to it that compliments the squash and deepens the complexity of the meal.

Butternut Squash Soup with Ginger and Jalapeno

Olive oil
2" fresh ginger, peeled and chopped
1 head of garlic, peeled and chopped
1 or 2 jalapeno or other spicy chilis, seeded and choppedsalt & black pepper
1/2 tsp cayenne (more or less depending on heat preference and strength of cayenne)
4c vegetable stock
3 medium or 2 large butternut squash, peeled and seeded and cut into 1" cubes (about 8 cups)
1 tablespoon brown sugar or maple syrup
optional: milk, soy milk, cream or plain yogurt

Prep all of the ingredients first to make the cooking go quickly. In a large stock pot, heat the oil and add the ginger, garlic, jalapeno and a teaspoon or so of salt. Stir and then cover and cook on medium heat for a few minutes. Keeping the pot covered will prevent the moisture from evaporating and the garlic from browning. Once the mixture is soft and fragrant, add the cayenne and black pepper and cook for another minute or so. Add the stock, 2 cups water, sugar and squash and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to simmer and cook until squash is soft, 30 or 40 minutes. Once the squash is soft, puree the soup and then season with salt and pepper to taste. Add more water at this point if you want the soup to be a thinner consistency. You can add the optional milk or cream, about 1/2 cup or so, and then cook for a few minutes longer. Or, you can serve the soup with a swirl of cream or plain yogurt as a garnish. Serve with homemade crostini for dipping. Makes enough for a meal for 4 with leftovers for lunch.

Ryan's Herb Crostini

Slice 1 fresh baguette thinly and lay on baking sheets. Brush with olive oil and a mix of herbs -- oregano, basil, thyme, rosemary, etc. Bake in the oven at 350 until the crostini are crisp but not burnt. Can be stored in an air tight container for several days up to a week.