Posted by Anita on 02.26.07 7:34 AM
We didn’t by any plum buns or fat hogs — although we did buy both pâté maison and calabrese sausage from the Fatted Calf, so I’ll take that last one on points. But we did spend a very chilly late morning at the market Saturday. By some miracle, the dogs let us sleep until 9:30, so we were on the late shift, but still mostly alone in the artic air.
Chilaquiles? SÃ, por supuesto! (And also delicious tacos de pollo hiding under some rather insipid guacamole.) We made quick rounds of the veggie stands, admired some of the first signs of spring — plenty of blossom-studded boughs, stacks of baby onions, and buckets of tulips and calla lilies to make you glad you left your nice, warm bed.
I’m getting a chill just thinking about it, though. Damn, it was cold! Quick, inside the building, chat up the guys at Prather, flirt a bit, get a lovely flat-iron steak for the grill and one of those heritage chickens we’re hearing so much about. (That’d be $15-ish each, not per pound, thank god.) After warming up — and a stop at Miette, of course — it’s back out front to pick up chips, tortillas and Yellow Eye beans from Rancho Gordo… where Steve tells us we just missed Alan Richman from GQ and that the NY Times will be singing his praises two weeks hence. Let’s hope he remembers us when he’s well and truly famous.
All in all, a successful re-entry into San Francisco. The kitchen’s coming along nicely, too — but it’s all under tarps at the moment, so the promised update will have to wait.
In the meantime, there are more market photos here…
farmers markets, meat, shopping
8 Comments »
Posted by Anita on 01.31.07 12:04 AM
One of the farmers at the market this weekend was selling a big-ass bag-o-roots combo — turnips, parsnips, mostly, and also some gnarly carrots — so of course I couldn’t pass that up. As I strolled the empty aisles, wondering how I would prepare my mess of veg, I remembered seeing a recipe for a creamy root vegetable soup in the market newsletter. Nobody seemed to be selling celery root, so I popped into Farm Fresh to You (after a stop at Miette, mais oui!) and picked up a knob. Mission accomplished!
With a minimum of chopping and sauteeing, and a little help from — don’t hate me — chicken broth from a box, we had an incredible soup that left each of us scheming for ways to get all the leftovers for ourselves. I made a double batch, and froze half of the puree (omitting the creme fraiche, which I’ll add when I thaw and reheat it), so the next batch will be even speedier.
Golden Vegetable Bisque
– adapted from Full Moon Feast by Jessica Prentice, via the CUESA newsletter
2 T fruity olive oil
1 small onion, sliced
1 small celery root (celeriac), peeled and cut into chunks
1 parsnip, cut into chunks
1 golden turnip, cut into chunks
1 carrot, cut into chunks
1 bay leaf
3 sprigs of fresh thyme
1 clove garlic, peeled and smashed
1 quart chicken stock, low-sodium chicken broth, or water
4 oz. creme fraiche (or other dairy, as you prefer)
1/8 tsp. freshly grated nutmeg
Salt and pepper to taste
Heat the oil in a medium-sized saucepan. Add the onions and sauté until tender. Add the vegetables one by one, sauteing each for a moment.
Add the stock to cover the vegetables by about half an inch. Add the herbs and garlic, cover, and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer, covered, until all is tender, about 25 minutes.
Remove the pot from the heat, and discard the bay leaf and the thyme stems. Puree the soup with an immersion blender (or in batches — carefully — in a standard blender). Add the creme fraiche, nutmeg, and a big pinch of pepper and salt. Taste the soup and adjust the seasoning. Feeling fancy? Try it with some Eatwell Farms rosemary salt.
cooking, farmers markets, recipes
5 Comments »
Posted by Anita on 01.16.07 11:39 PM
Not much of a story: We bought two baby fennel bulbs at the Ferry Plaza Farmers Market this weekend, with no definite plan for what to do with them. I decided a nice shaved-fennel salad would be a good, crisp foil for the cheesy softness of tonight’s main course: the Baked Manicotti [* link removed] recipe from Cook’s Illustrated. (I give it a B-minus, not that you asked.)
Cruising the aisles of Bristol Farms, I picked up a beautiful pear and a container of mild bleu cheese crumbles. When I got home, I sliced the pear and fennel as thin as I could — which was pretty thin, since we’d just gotten our big knife back from Critical Edge — tossed them with some Alejandro & Martin “fruity and fragrant” olive oil, half as much champagne vinegar as oil, salt, cracked pepper, and those bleu cheese crumbles.
If I do say so mahself, it was one of the best salads of the year. (OK, so the year’s only 16 days old… it was still good enough that I wanted seconds.) We’re eating pretty well down here in the basement!
Fennel-Pear-Bleu Salad
2 baby fennel bulbs, or 1 smallish regular fennel bulb
1 ripe, fragrant pear
2 tsp. fruity olive oil
1 tsp. Champagne vinegar or other mild-flavored vinegar
1/4 to 1/2 cup mild bleu cheese crumbles
salt and fresh-ground pepper to taste
Remove the fennel tops, and slice the bulb thin, on the bias. Halve the pear, remove the core, then halve again and slice thin. Toss the fennel, pear slices, and half of the cheese with the olive oil and vinegar, seasoning to taste with salt and pepper. Plate up, and garnish with the remaining cheese.
Serves 2
—
* Edited to add: We removed the link to the Cook’s Illustrated manicotti recipe in July 2008 in protest of their bullying tactics.
farmers markets, recipes
1 Comment »
Posted by Anita on 01.05.07 3:37 PM
Ruth, Joe and Jeremy Hoffman
Hoffman Game Birds
Manteca, CA
January 5, 2007
Dear Hoffman clan,
I’m having a hard time putting into words how sad I am to read in the CUESA Newsletter that I will no longer be able to buy your birds on Saturdays at the Ferry Plaza Farmers Market. Your beautiful chickens have become one of our weekly staples, and we’d even started coming to the market earlier so as to avoid being disappointed by your “sold out” signs.
I hope you’ll consider teaming up with a retail outlet in San Francisco; I don’t know how often we’ll be able get to Berkeley to visit Magnani’s Poultry, but the thought of going without your birds is too much to contemplate.
I’m sure I’m not alone in my love of your poultry, but I also couldn’t let the opportunity pass to let you know how much we appreciated what you’re doing. I hope the attached post, about your chickens, sums it up adequately.
Sincerely, and sadly,
~ Anita
farmers markets, other stuff, shopping
1 Comment »
Posted by Anita on 12.31.06 8:38 AM
I mentioned my 2006 culinary resolutions in passing last week, and it seems only fair to see how well I managed to pull them off.
I will eat more food that I can trace to its source.
I spent as many Saturday mornings as logistically possible at various farmers markets, and I can honestly say that I could count all of our 2006 trips to Safeway on one hand. We turned to Whole Foods and Tower Market for any needs that couldn’t be managed at the Ferry Building.
The experience was, frankly, eye-opening: We’ve developed relationships with farmers, gotten a much better feel for the rhythm of seasonal crops, and enjoyed observing that — although better food does, often, cost more — we’re more satisfied with a smaller quantity of good things as we used to be with an abundance of mediocre stuff.
I will make time for entertaining friends at home.
We did better this year — especially in the summertime, when it’s so easy to create an amazing spread from all the great produce — but there’s plenty of room for improvement in 2007.
I will find a talented architect to remodel my kitchen.
Check!
I will learn where to find better lunch possibilities near my office, and not just lazily fill my belly with convenient crap.
I definitely put my heart into this one, although I can’t say I was particularly successful. The best thing that happened to my lunch hour in ’06? Hands down, it’s the new “Foodie Court” and Bristol Farms grocery at Westfield SF Centre. (I didn’t say it’s good for my budget, however.)
I will teach the basics to my friends who want to learn to make Thai food.
Well… nobody asked. 😀 I think we got a little Thai’d out after three straight weeks of three five Thai meals a day on Kasma’s trip — we probably cooked less Thai this year than any in recent memory. But, once the new kitchen’s finished (and we have — hallelujah! — an exhaust fan) I hope that will change.
I will read cookbooks from the library before I buy them.
Boy, did this one take off in a big way. I’ve had a steady rotation of three (or more) cookbooks checked out all year. My local library makes it so easy! I just find the ISBN on Amazon, paste it into the library’s search engine, click “Request”, and wait. A few days or weeks later, I get an email telling me my book’s on the hold shelf at my local branch.
I’m having so much fun exploring new cookbooks that I’m working on a Bookshelf page so you can peek at what’s on my kitchen counter each week. (Please be gentle… I’m still beating my head against the monitor — Amazon and WordPress don’t like each other much, so I’m pretty much coding things by hand in my non-existent free time.)
This is the year I will try to cook at least one new recipe a week.
The library-book project pretty much made this a given, although there were definitely good weeks and bad weeks here. Lots of great new recipes made it into our regular repertoire, namely Pear and Arugula Salad, Bleu Cheese Cauliflower Soup, Peach Bruschetta, and Salted Caramel Ice Cream.
I will taste anything that’s put in front of me, no matter how ‘weird’.
See also: Thailand. And also last week‘s Drink of the Week.
I will use my new smoker (you know, the one I hope to get for my birthday) often enough to justify its purchase.
I guess we found other ways to spend that particular chunk of money. 😀
I will give my time to the food bank, and not just when my company gives me time off to do it.
I did volunteer (with the office crew) this summer, but never made it over on my own, except when bearing bags of donations. I resolve to do better in 2007.
I will fill my new garden with as many edible plants as possible.
Another rousing success, thanks in large part to the persistence of my wonderful husband. He sourced some gorgeous edible specimens, pouring over Internet resources and picking the brains of some talented local experts. I’m tickled that we have a garden that’s as tasty as it is beautiful. Stand by for a citrus update in the next week or so…
We will finally take our long-awaited culinary tour of Thailand.
What a wonderful way this was to start our year. One of my resolutions for 2007 is to finally pare down my 1,500 photos into something manageable, and post them to share. If all goes well, perhaps I can dig up our notes and write a few ‘backdated travelogue’ posts next month…
How about you? Any food-related resolutions for 2007?
I’m truly curious… this isn’t just a lazy way to end the post. 🙂
holidays & occasions, locavore, other stuff
8 Comments »
Posted by Anita on 11.21.06 12:49 PM
No, this isn’t a post about some Thomas Keller masterpiece. Rather, it’s an ode to a single bird that’s fed us amply for the last three days.
We’ve gotten into the habit of buying a chicken from the folks at Hoffman each Saturday, and then roasting it up for Sunday dinner. Sometimes we put it on the rotisserie, sometimes it ends up as Zuni Roast Chicken, still others we spatchcock it and stick it under the broiler.
The thing about these Hoffman birds is that they’re normal size, even perhaps a little smallish (which is how I like them, anyway). But the skin is so tasty, and the meat so satisfying, that we quite happily feast on them for days, without complaint. Not a scrap goes to waste.
This weekend, we simply stuffed some rosemary-salt butter under the skin, trussed the legs, and set the bird in the oven on 375º for about an hour and 20 minutes. The bird cooked faster than I expected, catching me off-guard for side dishes. I set the roasted bird aside, and Cameron made a simple salad using baby greens we’d picked up at the market.
Meanwhile, I boiled a half-box of linguine, defatted the drippings, added some stock and wine, and reduced it to a saucy consistency. When the pasta was still al dente, I tong’ed it into the roasting pan, tossed it in the sauce for a quick simmer, and popped it on the plate with a piece of the chicken on top. It was good enough for company, if I do say so myself.
The next morning, I turned some leftover breast meat into my favorite chicken salad, and smeared it between two slices of Acme pain de mie — heaven. And then, for dinner, we tucked some more shredded meat and cheese into Rancho Gordo tortillas and made tacos dorados from the Doña Tomás cookbook.
Am I sick of this chicken yet? Not on a bet. This morning, I finished off a stale bag of tortilla chips with some of the leftover salsa from last night’s dinner, sprinkled on a little cheese and the last of the breast meat… voilá: Chilaquiles for breakfast. And I’m having the leftover tacos for lunch. If I wasn’t heading out of town, you can bet that the carcass and back meat would be destined for soup later in the week, too.
cookbooks, cooking, farmers markets, Mexican
6 Comments »
Posted by Anita on 11.19.06 7:38 AM
I was talking on the phone with Mom on Friday, and she asked me what my plans were for the weekend. “Are you going to the Farmers Market?”
“Yes!” I yelped, my voice faltering, surprised to find I was tearing up a little.
Call me nuts for getting all emotional about a freakin’ farmers market, but I’m a creature of habit. Being out of town so much, combined with having too many house-related projects brewing all at once, has kept me away from my favorite Saturday haunt for an entire month. But I got it in my head that I was going this week, come hell or high water. Not that we have any less work to do this weekend — in fact, we have more — but first and foremost, I needed to be back in a place that makes me so illogically happy.
Yes, you’re right: It’s just an overpriced yuppie food scene. But it’s also my little village, at least for a few hours every Saturday, and I take comfort in the same vendors being in the same place every week, selling a subtly shifting set of wares until it’s time for their turn to rest for the season.
I get excited about the new crop of pea vines (already!?) and the deepening flavors of the apples and pears, puzzle at the miracle of tomatoes (still?!) in November, then look around to realize my favorite stall’s yellow beets seem to have run their course for the season. Working in my hermetically sealed glass cube all week, the market’s my weekly check-in with what’s happening in the natural world.
Yesterday, the market was everything I needed it to be: Primavera was making their guajillo chilaquiles — my favorite among their rotating selection — and the sun was shining brightly off the bay, even at 8:30. We bought lots of great seasonal treats — I even found sunchokes for a fall salad I’m planning for this week — and saw all of our favorite farmers. The only hitch was that my camera ran out of batteries (and, for once, I had no spares!) after the second shot. D’oh! But it was fine, really. I needed to be in that place much more than I needed to take another dozen photos of brussels sprouts.
I know I should be sad that I’m going away again, but somehow, I’m not… at least right now. I know I’ll be glad to return, and that’s enough. As Steve said, consoling me as I sighed about missing the next two markets, “We’ll all be here when you get back”.
farmers markets, shopping
4 Comments »
Posted by Anita on 10.22.06 11:47 AM
I’ve always loved going to farmers markets, even before they became the trendy (aqnd pricey) scenes they are now. When I lived in Menlo Park, ages ago, there was a farmer there who sold the most wonderful corn I’ve eaten on the West Coast. She admonished anyone within earshot in a nasaly whine: “Don’t cook my corn! Just HEAT IT and EAT IT!” Of course, we have to replay this little scene anytime we’re cooking heating corn, or any other fragile food.
Even after all these years of wandering the asphalt aisles and sniffing out seasonal veggies, I think this is the first year where I really am getting a full understanding of the interleaved seasons of all the produce that’s grown in Northern California. It doesn’t take much of a genius to recognize that tomatoes are summer food, but it’s another thing entirely to see the incremental changes that happen week by week, variety to variety.
In hindsight, I’m incredibly glad that my New Year’s resolutions included getting closer to the source of my food — being at the market each and every week makes a great weekend ritual, and a real eye-opener. I don’t think I ever realized, for example, that many spring crops — favas, artichokes and the like — enjoy a second season in the autumn. It makes sense, when you think about it, but it’s easier to grok when you’re seeing it happen.
I’m going to miss the next two weeks of the market while I’m visiting my family, so I very deliberately soaked up as much of the atmosphere as I could. The weather was spectacular, one of those bright-crisp days we get as the seasons change, and everything looked beautiful. Primavera even made chilaquiles, after two weeks of huevos rancheros and other substitutes… we joked that they must have known I was leaving town, but in all seriousness, it was a lovely way to start my long travel day.
breakfast, farmers markets, shopping
Comments Off on To market, to market
Posted by Anita on 10.19.06 7:36 AM
Ack, I hate it when I look up and realize that (a) it’s almost the weekend and (b) I haven’t written anything since the previous weekend. Chalk it up to a busy week, I suppose.
Which is not to say that we haven’t been cooking — and eating — quite a lot. Saturday we did our usual trek to the Ferry Plaza Farmers Market in the morning. Although the light wasn’t as gorgeous as it was the week before, there were still plenty of gorgeous specimens to photograph… many of which you’ll see in the week’s menus.
Saturday evening, we roasted a little chicken from Hoffman, which made us realize — duh! — that yes, Virgina, there is a huge difference between these coddled birds and even the Rosies and Rockys at Whole Paycheck. Just like the pork and beef from Prather, I’d much rather spend the same money to have a little of this kind of chicken than a lot of the commercial stuff. Anyway, sermon over…
I’d also bought a bagful of broccoli di ciccio and turned it into a tasty side dish with orecchiete and sauteed chickpeas. For such a simple recipe, it was incredibly satisfying — and even better the next day for lunch, with some of the leftover chicken meat shredded into it.
The next morning, I got up early and baked a Red Velvet cake from the Lee Bros. cookbook, in preparation for a dinner that evening with friends. Just like every other recipe I’ve tried from that book, it required a bit of interpolation to make it work, but the end result was pretty good… and definitely red! I realized in the process that I hadn’t done much baking at all, in a very long time. That’s going to change — I really miss it!
There’s nothing we like better than puttering around the house, tidying and cooking and getting things ready for a dinner party. In this case, an impromptu meal with our friends Sean and DPaul, who we hadn’t seen for dinner in far too long. They’d spent the afternoon putting up a truckload of preserves, so by the time they hit our living room, they were well ready for a drink… and to sit down!
We drank our Manhattans and ate a plate of radishes with Irish butter and fleur de sel, and listened enviously to their tales of pear butter and other seasonal spreads. Ah, another thing I haven’t done this year — not even a batch of pickles. Sigh.
Dinner was a salad of marinated roasted beets served with bleu cheese crumbles and rosemary-roasted walnuts; the Zuni Cafe cookbook’s mock porchetta — our old standby — with roasted teeeensy potatoes and chunks of fennel; and, of course, that Red Velvet cake.
Monday night brought a soup-and-sandwich supper: The triumphant return of the cauliflower and Stilton soup from a Soup of the Fortnight of yore, paired with BAT (bacon, avocado, and tomato) sandwiches. Yum! So much fun to take good bacon — this time from Prather Ranch — and pair it with pain de mie and one of the last superripe heirloom tomatoes of the season.
And then Tuesday, we ate a very simple dinner of chorizo tacos and soupy beans. Man, those Fatted Calf boys know how to make tasty sausage — I think theirs is even better than my own! Paired with Rancho Gordo ojo de cabro beans and fresh-masa tortillas, I can’t imagine a better quick-weeknight dinner. Or breakfast! We smashed up some of the beans, tossed in some leftover chorizo, doused it all with good salsa roja, and stirred in some of RG’s chips, and sprinkled with queso… chilaquiles on a weekday, be still my beating heart!
More food later… must go pay the bills.
baking, cookbooks, entertaining, farmers markets, meat, Mexican, shopping, Soup o' the Fortnight
2 Comments »
Posted by Cameron on 10.16.06 9:34 PM
When I was a kid, my mom made bread. There were years when she only made it once in a while and years when she made it every week. Her baking rhythm was inversely proportional to the sophistication of our surroundings. There was a solid year or two when we lived on a 16-acre farm in rural New Hampshire. During that time, we ate home-churned butter on home-baked bread and washed it down with whole, unpasteurized, unhomogenized milk (from whence came the cream that spawned the butter).
Mom’s bread was rustic, and not in any big-bubbled, artisanal, sourdough fashionista sort of way. She used whole grains and honey and god knows what else, and one slice would see you clear through marching up the hill and back down again, especially if that slice was carrying a load of cheddar cheese and had just spent some quality time in the toaster oven. Serious stuff, my friends.
Serious, and for a young lad exposed to all the temptations of a modern industrialized society, all too easy to take for granted. You have no idea how I longed for white bread in those days. I dreamed of Wonder bread, layered with Oscar Meyer bologna and processed American cheese, dressed with Heinz ketchup and yellow mustard.
I never really had a chance at being a baker. One summer, while working at a bistro in Portsmouth, NH, one of the part-owners began to teach me how to make croissants. I stuck with him for a while, but I was soon distracted by being a teenage boy in a seasonal vacation town. Hell, Guns ‘n’ Roses Appetite for Destruction went huge that year, and I could never square getting up at oh-dark-thirty to fold dough with late-night dart games fueled by weed and beer.
These days, we buy our bread. The closest thing that we have to a house loaf is the pain de mie that Acme Bread sells at the Ferry Plaza farmers’ market in SF. Despite the pretentious surroundings and occasional bursts of hipper-than-thou attitude from the purveyors, it’s damn good bread. It’s the sort of white bread that I’d imagine my mom would have made if she’d put her mind to it: a tight, even crumb balanced by a crust that’s chewy without being overbearing.
Note: This post is in honor of World Bread Day 2006
baking, family, farmers markets, shopping
3 Comments »
