Locovore: Loco for Local

No, not a typo. I recently had friends over for the last largish meal I made before leaving Rhode Island to return to my desert home for the academic year, and realized that, without even trying, every single thing we ate was locally produced. On an island (Conanicut, otherwise known as Jamestown).  Don’t you just love that? 

It was hot in the morning, and the forecast was for thunderstorms. My friends don’t care for the heat. And my cottage is little and, of course, doesn’t have air conditioning. So I decided to make a dinner that I could cook before the rain and serve at room temperature. What a great excuse: that’s actually one of my favorite ways to eat.

My friend Wayne (source of the mussels) had called me up and offered me some fresh-caught Bluefin tuna “head steaks”; I learned that this was the meat right behind the head that was cut off in preparing a giant tuna to be sold. My friends may not like the heat, but I knew they liked tuna, so of course I said yes.  Wayne swung off the bridge to drop me the fish on his way out to another fish-spotting gig.

Now, Jamestown has a surprising amount of meat and poultry for such a tiny place: grassfed beef, pasteured pork, chicken, and lamb.  And your usual lot of summer vegetables, plus the early gift of fresh-dug potatoes. Surprisingly, tomatoes were early this year. Surprising because of the brutal winter—did that do something to speed them up?—and just because. I usually have to return to school before the really nice tomatoes are in—and these are field tomatoes we’re talking here, beautiful in early August.The meat and produce are from Windmist Farm,and Hodgkiss Farm.

So here is the menu, with some pictures of ingredients. While I made a very satisfying visit yesterday to our own impressive farmer’s market here in Tucson, I have to say, to paraphrase Dorothy, there’s no place like New England.

A Jamestown Dinner

Dinner for Friends on a Muggy Day Threatening Thunderstorms

Tuna Tartare on potato chips

Figs with goat cheese sweetened with honey and fresh thyme

Everything-grilled salad of chicken, beef, onions, peppers, yellow and zucchini squash, and corn (see this post)

Green beans marinated with olive oil and fresh oregano

Tomato and mozzarella (from Narragansett Creamery) salad  

Ciabatta from Venda Ravioli

Organic Blueberries and Peaches with Maple Sour Cream

Arizona to Little Compton: Blog Limbo

I tried to plan my packing for RI around the blog, I really did. Now that I am too far away to drive back and forth without eating up two weeks, I ship a few boxes to Little Compton in advance, timed so they will arrive a day or so before I do. Into the boxes go the heavy clothing—the sweatshirts and cotton sweaters for walks on a windy beach, the rubber shoes for walks in dew-soaked early-morning fields—the farm dresses and other country clothes, and the stuff I will need to get some work done. That is the tricky part—deciding what can be packed and sent off weeks in advance that will not be needed in the meantime, and what has to be held back to bring on the plane.  Fear of forgetting a certain item can color one’s judgment, and regret invariably sets in a day or so after dropping the boxes off to UPS, when you suddenly need something that you were a little too worried about leaving behind.

This year it was the cable for transferring photos from my camera to my computer. I like to use a camera rather than my iphone for blog photos, although in practice I tend to use both. I packed the cable in one of the boxes because I didn’t want to forget it, and now I can’t transfer the photos I took for the blog this week. The cable from my old camera (this one is new), doesn’t fit; it has a microscopically different shaped plug that goes into the camera. Really, Olympus and Canon, get with the program.

So I can’t show you the peach and raspberry tart I made with the really nice Arizona cling peaches I bought at the farmer’s market this week. They were, like the strawberries a few weeks ago, from Yuma, and they were drop-dead gorgeous: juicy, sweet, tender. That’s them mixed in with other local produce (fabulous tomatoes); the growing season is in full swing here. I’ve been drawing down inventory prior to leaving for the rest of the summer, and made roughly this peach pizza recipe, but used a butter-lard pastry I had in the freezer and added 6 ounces of raspberries (they’ve been incredibly cheap). This was the most psychedelically colorful tart I’ve ever made: the bright orangey peach slices and the brilliant cerise of the raspberries (odd how the names of two different fruits seem more descriptive here than their own). A picture is worth many words, so I will post one when I am reunited with my camera cable. See you in LC.

P.S. I just noticed that a post from a few years ago on grassfed beef has appeared as a post for today. Haven't got a clue...

Karla’s Perfect Peaches

It was one of those minor, but satisfying, coincidences: the first appearance of Karla’s peaches coinciding with a visit from my old friend, Lynne, who I hadn’t seen in several years. The important bit here is that Lynne is originally from the South—Birmingham and then Montgomery, Alabama, to be precise—and though she escaped at an early age and is a committed New Englander, there are a few things that are as died in the wool (as we would say here) about her as a Southerner as the love of the ocean is for us. One of those things is her adoration, and critical judgment, of a good peach. I remember her talking about peaches to me when I first met her—many, many years ago—and, like many Southerners, she often mentions them in the same breath as the words summer, childhood, Mother, and ice cream.
So I was excited to see the little sign saying “Karla’s peaches soon!” and then the YFF (Young Family Farm) sign with a price equivalent to those harking from, well, South, but I didn’t see them anywhere. Sold out, I asked? No, just hadn’t washed them yet—they were sitting, hidden, in a big flat out back, waiting for their pre-sale bath. I asked to take some as-is, and picked out about eight beauties. A few I would grill and put into our all-grilled chicken salad; the rest I would give to Lynne to take home to eat, leaning over, dripping out of hand.
Lynne and I had such a nice visit, but of course, when we parted after a long leisurely lunch, I forgot to give them to her, and she to take them. She emailed me when she got home—oh, no!—just around the time I discovered them on the counter when I went into the kitchen to do the dishes.
Next morning I walked into the kitchen and was immediately struck with the powerful perfume of perfectly ripe peaches. Such alliterative peaches will peel, effortlessly, without blanching. Their flesh is the ideal texture. Lynne would eat them just as is. But I, as we know, like my stone fruits cooked, with pastry. Here is the quickest way I know to have that combination, perfect for perfect peaches.
Peach Pizza
This is a galette (crostata), thin and simple as a pizza.
The pastry from the apple galette post
4 perfect, just-ripe peaches, medium to large
¼ large lemon
Pinch salt
3 T brown sugar
1 T flour
2 tea sugar
¼ tea cinnamon or nutmeg (optional)
1 T maple syrup (optional)
Preheat the oven to 425F. Make the pastry according to the directions and chill.
With a sharp paring knife, run the point down from end to end to slit the skin; peel the peaches and discard the skins. (If your peaches are not quite ripe, you may need to blanch them for a minute in boiling water to facilitate peeling; and you could leave the skins on, of course.) Slice the peaches about ¼“thick and arrange them in one layer on a plate; sprinkle with lemon juice and salt.
On a rimless cookie sheet or back of a sheet pan, roll out the dough into a rough oval, about 1/8” thick (i.e., very thin). Sprinkle over the brown sugar and flour and smooth it with the palm of your hand to within an inch of the edge. Arrange the peach slices in concentric circles on the sugar/flour, leaving space between them. Sprinkle the peaches with the white sugar, mixed with the spice if using. Roll the border of the pastry in toward the peaches into a little levee.
Bake at 425 F for 15 minutes; reduce to 350 F and bake about 10-15 min more (adjust cooking times according to your oven). You will hear the peaches begin to sizzle right away; when the tart is done, they will be embedded in a thin, slightly gelled sauce. Remove to a rack to cool. Brush with a little maple syrup while warm if desired. Cut with a pizza cutter or very sharp large knife when lukewarm. Serve plain the same day it is baked, preferably as soon as it has cooled.

                                                                    

Karla’s Peaches, Anne’s Kitchen

 

The local peaches are in from Young Farm. They are amazingly good, with the kind of all-too-rare correct texture that makes even me, who generally prefers her stone fruit cooked, happy to eat them raw and dripping. But of course, like all fruit, they are wonderful cooked with a little sugar, and I am very fond of them with pound cake.

In the process of cleaning out my freezer in Little Compton, I came across a single chicken breast, and a little rye bread that I had made this summer. I had two peaches on the counter, so I decided I would make a last lunch for Carlton with it all before I left. I toasted the bread and pan-grilled the chicken; peeled and sliced the peaches; and sautéed them in some butter, brown sugar, salt and pepper, and a splash of lemon. I topped the chicken crostini with the peaches and walked them over to Carlton with a half-full bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. We had a very nice chat and I had a needed break from packing.

My friend Anne loves Karla’s peaches as well. They were part of her Southern ladies’ luncheon a few years ago, and of course, we both like peach pie when the spice and thickening are just so. Peaches are made for preserving, and Anne told me that when she looked at a peach the other day she thought it was so beautiful that she decided to make some jam and leave the skin on. I do that when I make jam with local cherry tomatoes, so this made perfect sense to me. Here are Ann’s iphone photos, which I fooled with a bit, and how she made her chunky preserve. As she said, all pink and yellow and lovely.

Ann’s Peach Preserve

6 cups sliced and roughly chopped peaches
3 cups sugar
¼ vanilla bean (the long ones), split and scraped

Mix and boil, skimming, until it reaches about 220 F.

 

        

Peaches by the Pound—Cake

Every time I look at a peach, I think about pound cake. Some people think about ice cream, and I agree that fresh peach ice cream is terrifically good. Others think about pickling them, and still others insist that the only way to eat a peach is dripping out of hand. But for me, the best way to eat ripe, flavorful peaches is gently cooked in butter and brown sugar with a few spices until they glisten with a garnet sauce, and then pour them over a slice of good, rich, homemade poundcake. This is of course a lovely way to end dinner. But it makes for a very nice breakfast. And a fine afternoon pick-me-up. You needn’t choose: pound cakes are large enough and keep admirably enough to suit your fancy all week.

When I buy peaches, I put them on a paper towel on a big plate, well-separated and covered with a cotton towel, and leave them on the counter to soften. Don’t be fooled by the photo, where they are stacked on top of tomatoes. It’s just a pose. Never stack peaches or otherwise allow them to touch. Once they are as you like them, put them in the refrigerator if you are not ready to use them.

Glazed Peaches

4-5 small peaches
2 T unsalted butter
2 T firmly packed light brown sugar
¼ tea cardamom
1-2 drops pure almond extract
pinch of ground white pepper
½ tea good whiskey

Peel peaches: dip briefly into simmering water to loosen skins; if skins have begun to wrinkle, they can be relatively easy to peel without the scalding. Cut in half and pull apart from the stone; slice into a 9” frying pan into which you have put the butter. Heat medium high to melt the butter and sauté for a minute or two. Reduce the heat to medium low, add the brown sugar and spices and sauté another minute, then add the extract and whiskey and simmer another minute more. Set aside. (If you refrigerate before using, give it about 20 seconds in the microwave).

Perfect Pound Cake

This represents the final adjustment to three separate recipes for pound cake, all of which start in a cold oven. Its flavor and texture is, in my opinion, perfect.

2 sticks ( ½ lb) COLD unsalted butter
½ cup shortening
2 ¾ cup sugar
6 large fresh eggs
2 tea pure vanilla extract
1/8 tea freshly ground nutmeg
¼ tea cardamom
pinch salt
1 tea baking powder
3 cups all-purpose flour
¾ cup fresh whole milk

Sift the flour with the baking powder and set aside. Butter well a 10” light-metal tube pan.

In a standing mixer with the paddle attachment, beat the butter and shortening for about 3 minutes at medium speed, until well combined and smooth. With the motor running, gradually add the sugar at medium-low speed, then turn the mixer to medium-high and beat about 5 minutes, til fluffy. Scrape down the  sides.

Reduce the heat to low and add the eggs one at a time; when combined, add the vanilla, nutmeg, cardamom, and salt. Sift the flour with the baking powder. Add the dry ingredients alternately with the milk, beginning and ending with the dry. Scrape down any remaining flour, turn the mixer up to about medium and give it a final quick blend to bring it all together.

Spoon the batter into the pan, rotating it on the counter surface to smooth the top. Place in the lower middle of the cold oven. Turn the oven on to 350 F and bake 1 hour 10 minutes; it will be nicely golden. Reduce the heat to 325 F and continue baking another 15 minutes, or until the sides just begin to pull away from the pan and a fine skewer comes out clean from the highest point. Do not over-bake. Remove to a rack to cool for about 10 minutes. If needed, loosen around the edges and center with a knife, and turn out onto the rack to cool completely.

Serve with the peaches. I like to serve it in wedges, but the texture is so fine you can cut it in paper-thin slices if you like. Divide it and freeze half, wrapped tightly in plastic and foil, if, like me, you live alone. Or give some to a neighbor. Otherwise, you will polish it off yourself in no time.

      

Eat A Peach: Ladies’ Luncheon

The local peaches are perfect right now. Whether you prefer a white peach—usually very sweet, but less acidic and to some people’s tastes not intensely peachy enough—or a yellow, with its richer combination of sweet and tang, both are juicy and good to eat. Select peaches that are fragrant (they should smell like peaches), free of bruises, velvety-fuzzy (a smooth-skinned peach is a nectarine, and a flat-napped one is either over-bred or over-the-hill), and that yield slightly to gentle pressure; keep these delicate fruits separate from your other shopping or they will be the worse for wear by the time you get them home. Use ripe peaches promptly, or leave them at room temperature in a shady spot or in a paper bag if they are not quite ripe when you buy them. In any case, avoid refrigeration.
In addition to eating peaches out of hand, slicing them over your morning cereal, or serving them with cream and a tad of brown sugar, peaches lend themselves to all kinds of drinks (the famous Bellini, for example), desserts (the equally famous Peach Melba or iconic peach ice cream), summer preserving, and baking. They are closely associated with Southern cooking, so what better use to put a juicy fresh peach than as part of a Southern-style ladies’ luncheon? This was the happy thought of my long-time friend and neighbor, Anne Simon, an outstanding cook and even better baker. (That is Anne and me in the photo at right.) Anne is an inveterate entertainer, to my frequent benefit and perennial gratitude. What a treat for me to attend an event like this where not only do I have to do absolutely nothing, but the food is just right. In this case, I even got to put my two cents into the menu. Here is what we had:

Frozen Mint Juleps
Iced Tea, Wine
Cheese Straws
Chicken Salad in Butter Lettuce Cups
Pickled Shrimp with New Onions
Sliced Tomatoes and Avocados with Corn and Basil Oil
(Anne’s Spectacular) Soft Dinner Rolls, Strawberry Butter
Fresh Peach and Blueberry Cornbread
White Layer Cake with Raspberry Buttercream
Coffee

Everything was wonderful, but a few items were extra-fine. Anne’s rolls are, in my opinion, the best of their genre, made all the more delicious by being  accompanied by an intense, deep pink butter made from her homemade strawberry jam—you will recall that this year’s strawberries were extra-good, and by extension, so was her jam. The cake—well, the photo speaks for itself: beautiful, high, tender, with an elegant pale pink buttercream made with a puree of fresh local raspberries. And the cornbread was sublime. Anne loves the combination of corn and blueberry, a preference that I share, and the addition of the juicy local peaches, which she felt she simply must use, makes this bread satisfyingly moist and special. Here is her recipe, edited slightly:
Anne’s Peach and Blueberry Cornbread
In doing this blog, one of the things I had to get used to was measuring everything so that I could provide you with a workable recipe. In sending me this, Anne notes: “the exact measurement of the fruit is hard to say for sure.  Sometime I throw in extra cornmeal if I think that things look too wet.”  So experiment a little with the wet/dry balance; next time, Anne will measure exactly, and I'll report back, but in the meantime use your judgment.
1 ¼ cups all-purpose flour 
1 cup stoneground jonnycake corn meal
½ cup sugar
2 tea baking powder
½ tea baking soda
½ tea salt
¼ lb butter (1 stick)
1 cup buttermilk
2 large eggs
1 cup, approx, coarsely chopped fresh peaches, skin on
1 cup fresh blueberries
1 ear sweet corn, kernels cut off and the cob scraped to release the corn milk
Preheat the oven to 350 F. Butter an 8” square pan and coat generously with corneal; a pie pan can also be used.
In a food processor with the metal blade, cut the butter into the flour, cornmeal, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt until it is no longer visible.
In a large bowl, beat the eggs, and beat the buttermilk in until well-blended. Add to this bowl, without mixing yet, about half the dry ingredient/butter mixture, all of the fruit, then the remaining half of the dry ingredient/butter mixture; this gives the fruit a coating of flour before it hits the wet ingredients.  Now gently mix just long enough to lightly incorporate the fruit, dry, and wet ingredients; if the batter seems too liquid-y, add additional cornmeal a few tablespoons at a time.
Pour the batter into the prepared pan, and bake approximately 30 minutes.
___
Party photos courtesy of Anne’s father, the talented Frank Parker, owner of Bookstand World.