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.