Challah Back!!

Pie #3, Sort of

Well, I think I've been converted.  Anyone who would mess with the time and painstaking labor of a piecrust, when they could just (literally) throw together a galette dough, has obviously got too little to do.  Our friend Taylor, while visiting our little berry patch from San Francisco, showed me how to make a galette with some blue-, rasp-, and blackberries obtained from my local farmer's market.  He was inspired, he said, by a show he saw on the Food Network where famed chef Jacques Pepin made a galette in about thirty seconds flat.  I timed Taylor on his galette-- about 19 minutes, which is peanuts compared to any piecrust.  Watch, follow, and learn.

1. Put 2 1/2 cups of all-purpose flour in a bowl.  Put together a glass of ice water and set it to the side within reach.  Add a pinch of salt, and three big pinches of sugar.  Pour a little ice water on, and start kneading.  Add ice water as needed until the dough holds together.

2. Turn dough out onto a floured surface.  Roll out until you have a large, flattened piece of dough in, really, whatever shape you like.  Cut in half, and lay each piece next to its mate on a cookie sheet.

3. Mix your berries (I had three pints) with sugar-- a quarter cup, I'd say; less if your fruit is extra sweet.  Add a squeeze of lemon, and a tablespoon of tapioca if the juiciness is out of control, and mix 'em up.

4. Spoon half the berry mixture in a little heap onto one dough sheet, and repeat with the rest of the berries on the other dough.  Fold up the sides of the dough and make little pouches out of them.  You could probably make quite cute little purses, if you cared to.  Try and make sure there are no holes in the bottom so as to not lose any precious juices.

5. Bake at 425F for 25-30 minutes.

If you're going the fresh summer berry route and if you're taking the galettes camping with you as we did, you'd probably best pick up a can of whipped cream and douse them well before eating like a hog.

Hello, Hood River!

Well, we made it in one piece!  Only one thing broke-- something made out of glass-- and it smashed into so many smithereens, we still have no idea what it was.  Which is a good sign, I guess.  Here's a picture of Adam, enjoying our first meal in our new house.  Speaking of armchair foodies!  Lucky boy.  We had homemade pesto on pasta, with a kalamata olive tapenade for spreading on a farmer's market-bought artichoke bread.  (The tapenade is simple and amazing: throw a clove of garlic with a handful of olives into the blender.)  Add to that organic cherry tomatoes from our neighboring town, the Dalles.  YUM!  We sat on our new back porch and admired Mt. Adams while enjoying the yummy local tastes.

Last night I made a terrific summer meal, and want to share the recipes with you.  They are easy and shine the spotlight on two delicious gifts of summer: corn and nectarines.

Corn Pudding

4 or 5 cups of corn (4 or 5 ears, shucked and shaved)

2 c. milk

6 eggs

1 c. or so cheddar cheese

1 Tbsp. chopped fresh basil

1/2 tsp. salt

Pepper to taste

Preheat the oven to 325 F and butter a 2-quart square baking dish.  

Separate one cup of corn and set aside.  Put the rest with one cup of milk into the blender and puree to a moderate chunkiness.  Pour it into a large bowl.  Whisk in the eggs, then stir in remaining corn, milk, cheese, basil, salt and pepper.  Pour into the baking dish.

Set the dish in another, larger baking dish, and pour hot water into the larger dish till it comes about halfway up the sides of the smaller one.  This is called a Bain-Marie, and it'll cook the food more evenly and prevent it from scorching.

Bake for about an hour, or until it's puffy and golden.  Let it cool for as long as you can stand it-- I waited about fifteen minutes.

And for Dessert, I'd like to thank Raina for her easy and very yummy fruit crisp recipe.  I hope she won't mind if I reproduce it here!

For the topping, mix:

5 Tbsp. butter

1/4 c. white sugar

1/4 c. brown sugar

1/4 tsp. nutmeg

1/2 tsp. cinnamon

6 Tbsp. flour

1/4 tsp. salt

Refrigerate for at least a half hour.  (This, I found out the hard way, is important.  Otherwise it'll all melt right away.)

For the fruit filling, mix:

6 pieces of fruit, peeled, cored, and sliced.  Apples, pears, peaches, and nectarines all work great (I used nectarines)

3 Tbsp. sugar (but this could be variable, depending on how sweet your fruit is)

Lemon zest, and lemon juice.

Mix and put into two pie dishes.  Add topping.  Bake at 350 F for 30 minutes.  Then crank the heat to 400 for ten more minutes to brown the topping.

Variations on this dish are infinite.  A good idea, especially in the summer, is to use berries with your fruit.  Add one cup if you like, or sub out half your fruit for an equal amount of berries.  Also, I didn't have any lemons, but I had a grapefruit so I grated a little of the peel for my zest.  It was amazing!!  Lastly, as if I needed to mention it, this dish really should be served warm with ice cream.  (I hope I got the recipe right: Rain, if you're reading, please send along corrections and I'll fix it.  Wouldn't want to get your special dish wrong.)

We've still got a full month of summer left!  Eat it up.

So Long, Sellwood

This morning I weeded and watered my little veggie and flower garden with unusual gusto.  I asked myself as I kneeled what I was going to this effort for, as I will not be tasting a single one of these vegetables.  And I suppose my last little sprucing up of the plot was from an impulse akin to a mother paying extra attention to the clothes and cleanliness of her little kid before sending him onto an airplane by himself.  When you send your own off into the world, you want their best foot to be forward.  Only thing is, I'M the one going off into the world and my little creation is to be left behind.

I had hoped to sample a tomato or two before I leave, but the little guys are still small, green, and cute.  There are lots of them though, and the plants are huge-- twice as big as last year-- so I pat myself on the back for that at least.  To the new tenant: enjoy!  Please don't forget to water.

I'd also like to bid farewell to my other favorite foods, native only to Sellwood.  San Felipe, you make the best enchiladas I've ever tasted (they're made with cotija cheese instead of your usual jack), and it doesn't hurt that your margaritas come in a glass the size of a mixing bowl.  Oaks Bottom, I've stuffed myself many times on your totchoes (imagine the offspring of tater tots and nachos if they were to meet and fall in love).  New Seasons, you are very expensive for a  grocery store, but it's been great having you within walking distance, and I do very much appreciate the attention you give to local farmers-- thanks to you I had Oregon cherries for lunch today.  And oh, the Ugly Mug, one of my all-time favorite coffee shops.  You have supplied me with much tea, hot or iced depending on the season, while I spent hours reading, looking for jobs, or tapping away on my laptop.  Thanks so much for allowing Cally inside; she appreciates that very much.

Take care, little blue house.  Tomorrow I sleep in Hood River!

More Pie Talk

Adam's mom Mary sent me this article from the Washington Post this morning.  In it, a pastry pro gives a few lessons to a woeful pie baker.  The slide show is great, and all the tips are contained therein, so if you want the advice but don't want to read too much, I'd recommend that.  Thanks, Mary!

And one more thing.  I'm sure that cherry pie she made tastes amazing, but would anyone else agree that that lattice was not as outstanding as another cherry pie lattice featured recently on this blog?  Just asking.

Eat Here Now

Neenie took me to a great lunch today at Meriwether's in NW Portland.  The patio was gorgeous, with fuschias and hydrangeas and very ornate birdhouses decorating the borders, and the food was delicious.  We shared a fantastic beet salad to start, then had shrimp and chicken salad sandwiches, respectively.  Though I was full, I couldn't resist a fruit tart for dessert.  After all, it's summer in Oregon.  Local fruit is worth its weight in gold these days.

But the greatest part about Meriwether's is that they have their own farm up on Skyline Blvd. right here in Portland.  They grow much of the produce used in the restaurant, and it was apparent!  Sliced heirloom tomatoes on a restaurant sandwich are a rarity to be savored.  According to their website, they are establishing a flock of laying ducks too.

They've also got a CSA program, which stands for Community-Supported Agriculture.  The way it works is that a farm will sell a certain number of subscriptions to local consumers for a set price at the beginning of the season.  Then, every week, the subscriber can pick up a box of whatever that farm has recently harvested-- usually a variety of produce corresponding to that farm's geographical climate and time of year.

There's an easy way to find the CSA's in your area at LocalHarvest.org, an amazing website dedicated to local and organic food (farm's, farmer's markets, restaurants, community gardens, CSA's...).  I just did a search and found a farm coop in Hood River named, creatively, Hood River Organic, and I'm thinking of joining.  These things aren't cheap of course, and can cost between three and five hundred dollars up front.  It'll take some calculations to figure out if it's worth it.  Of course, I can't compare out-of-season produce trucked in from far away to local, chemical-free food by price alone.  It's obvious which would win out (which makes me nervous about how the person with whom I share a bank account will respond to my proposition about this).  But if you're looking for reasons to join a CSA, Hood River Organic's got a pretty compelling list of them here (scroll down).

If any of you, faithful readers, have a story to share or advice on local agriculture, please do share.  Any CSA subscribers?  Do you like it?  Would you do it again?  

Reading Assignment

I encourage all of you to read this great article published in the American Conservative Magazine.  I'm very glad, from a political standpoint of across-the-aisle unity, to introduce to my vast readership some thoughts on the politics and culture of food written by a conservative.  I share his sentiments almost entirely, but possibly for different reasons: I don't consider that we should attempt to persuade Congress to alter the Farm Bill because I don't believe in centralized government, for example (though my thoughts on centralized government are far from solidified).  But we should show major agri-businesses and the politicians who kowtow to them what we think of their practices by using our dollars wisely.  The way we spend our money is our loudest voice, and anyway, it's the most consistent way to localize our consumption.  Would it make any sense to write letters to our Senators about the travesty of massive corporate food production, while we continue to patronize it?

Much more on this topic to come, starting with a shout out to Barbara Kingsolver's excellent book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle.  (Just as soon as I finish it.) 

Hip Cake

I have observed lately that cupcakes are outrageously popular here in fair Portland.  I feel I am qualified to make this claim for three reasons: I am a great lover of baked goods and pay careful attention when they're around; I am a frequenter of coffee shops, partly because they are great venues for sweets; and as of recently, I'm planning my wedding, and I've been surprised, as I trawl the internet for cake ideas, by how many bashful brides choose cupcakes over a large single cake.

There is one coffee shop-- Crema, on the corner of SE 28th and Ankeny-- that specializes in cupcakes, and I wanted to shine the spot on them for a moment.  For one, their flavors of cupcake are quite innovative.  Pictured is a Lemon Rosemary, but I've also witnessed flavors like Mexican Chocolate, and Red Velvet with Cream Cheese frosting.  And for another thing, they pile the frosting on to precarious heights.  To excessive heights, even.  If the frosting weren't of such high quality and didn't bear being eaten plain with a spoon after the cake part is gone, I might not be posting this here today.

If you should find yourself in Southeast Portland hankering after sugar, now you know where you need to go.

Sweet Tom

If you love tomatoes, then you have to make this recipe for Bruschetta.  It's so easy, so delicious, and a very picturesque way to feature this gorgeous summer fruit on your table.

Gather four or five cups of tomatoes, optimally local, ideally from your backyard.  The plants in my yard have only been able to muster tiny green nubs as yet, so I purchased two kinds to make a colorful mix: yellow cherries, and a big red heirloom from a farm just outside Portland.  Chop them up into bite-size pieces (and I seeded the larger, heirloom tomato) and toss into a medium bowl.

Add several tablespoons of chopped basil, several tablespoons of olive oil, one to two tablespoons balsamic vinegar, one very small finely chopped red onion, and mix 'em all up.  You can and probably should do all this an hour or two before you serve (but no more) so all the juices can mingle and gather.  If you do it in advance, leave the bowl on the counter-- don't put it in the fridge.

When you're ready to serve, toast or broil sliced french bread or focaccia and while it's still hot, rub both sides of the bread with a halved garlic clove.  This is my first time with the garlic rub-- it WORKS!   I was offending my own self with my breath later that evening, so if you're a garlic-o-phobe, maybe rub only one side of the bread, and briefly at that.

 

Top bread slices with a heaping spoonful of the tomato mixture.  Admire, and serve immediately.

Also pictured: orzo pasta tossed with garbanzo beans, goat cheese, lemon juice, olive oil, and oregano.  Good, but nothing in comparison to the sweet, salty, garlicky, bruschetta.  

Happy July!  And if you've got any superb tomato recipes, please let me know!

Beauty Queen

Well, here she is.  Gorgeous!  Yummy, too, though my shrewd grandma tells me to ease up on the crust (ie, don't work it so hard).  But I'm starting to feel like this is turning into a Pie Blog, rather than a Food Blog, so I think I might take my pie-making underground for a while.  And anyway, I spent a good two hours cleaning my oven today, which means fumigating my house with foul oven cleaner, and then scouring oven racks out on the sidewalk.  In other words, not fun.  In even other words, no more pies till my new house (where, by the way, I will promptly lay a fat sheet of foil across the bottom of the oven floor).

Perhaps I will devote the next week to blogging about the food we eat when we're in the process of moving.  I'll be needing to clean out my freezer sooner or later...

Bada Bing!

My heart is still pounding over the feat I have just accomplished and never thought I would: I made a pie lattice!!  Yep, for pie #2-- cherry-- I felt there would be no fruit for which a lattice would be more appropriate.  And since I drove to Hood River for fresh Bing cherries at the Draper Girls Country Farm, and then crippled and stained my fingers pitting them, I figured, why not go all the way?

But I'm getting ahead of myself here.  How, you may ask, was pie #1?  You may gather from my last exuberant post that it was a pie of perfection, but it wasn't.  It was just really good, which I wasn't expecting, and which caused me to post for joy.  The things I would like to improve upon, based on my experience from pie #1:

 

1.  Crust.  I used Adam's aunt Sarah's bicep-enhancing recipe, where you cut a half-and-half-combo of shortening and butter into flour.  I thought such a workout would yield a fantastic crust, but I'm starting to think that maybe I worked it to hard.  It was a bit dense, like shortbread.  Not flaky and fluffy, like crust should be.

2.  Fruit.  Now, it's hard to improve upon the perfect flavor, shape, and texture of blueberries.  They have a musky, deep, aromatic flavor that's almost sexual, and they pop like little juice explosions when you bite down on them.  Why were these blueberries not as superb as they have been in the past?  Possibly they were a bit dry.  Possibly I added too much tapioca as a thickener.  On the happy side though, I usually produce pies that rather resemble soup, and this one was dry on the bottom, allowing for an all-the-way cooked bottom crust, and an intact, lovely slice.

If you've read this far, you've probably already examined the photos above of the different stages of pie #2.  Lovely Bing cherries direct from the fruit bowl of Oregon, Hood River (and my new home in twelve days!).  Yours truly digging pits out of said cherries with a bobby pin.  It actually worked quite well; now my nail beds are wine-red and I'm proud.  And lastly, the making of the lattice.  It's not as hard as you'd think!  I forced myself to really read the directions in the Joy of Cooking-- not something I usually do very carefully.  Let's hope it tastes as good as it looks!  Thanks to my sweet Adam for photographing on command.

Hallelujah

YAHOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

GardenPoet

Here's that photo of my mom's jam.  I don't know if you can make out the label, but it's darling, and she does them for all her canned goods.  She's calls herself GardenPoet, even though it's not a title that seems to refer to her skills in producing heavenly jams, pickles, chutneys, and apple butter.  But I guess it sounds better than GardenCanner.

The Next Veruca Salt

Ever since I wrote my last post, I've been obsessing about pie.  I've been trawling the internet for tips, and contemplating the few comments I've received after my call for help.  What I've found is that, basically there are as many "tried-and-true," "fail-safe" pie tips and methods as there are pie bakers out there.  

Some interesting ones:

-- Put a piece of aluminum foil or a cookie sheet directly under the pie or on the rack below so juice doesn't spill over into the bottom of the oven. 

--Mix a tablespoon or three of quick-cooking tapioca to thicken your pie juices and avoid pie soup.

--Saute hard peaches in a little water, maybe some sugar and lemon juice, before putting them in the pie.

-- Bake the pie on top of a pizza stone, or directly on the bottom of the oven for the first twenty minutes to ensure browning of the bottom crust.

--Roll out your crust between wax paper.

--Use half shortening, half butter (shortening for flakiness, butter for flavor).

--Decide what kind of pie you're going to make based on sales at the market.  In other words, don't get your heart set on blueberry pie, if it's going to cost you $16 for a pie's worth of blueberries.

Well, as I embark on my pie making adventure, I'll employ these tips and more, just to see if they are as imperative as some say they are.  I've got Pie #1 cooling on the stove right now-- a sixteen-dollar blueberry pie, if you want to know the truth-- and it looks gorgeous!  I'll get a photo up when Adam comes home with the camera. 

And I can verify one tip already: put foil or a pan underneath the pie while it bakes!!  I forgot that step and now I have blueberry tar on the bottom of my oven.  Great.