wintergreens

change promise fudge

2011-01-07T17:02:00.006-05:00

That's my version of Eat Pray Love.

I haven't even reported back about my liquor infusions, and here I am quitting alcohol! These are basil vodka, plum vodka, cherry vodka, cucumber sake, and elderberry vanilla vodka. Later I made peach and watermelon vodka for a garden party: summer in a jar.

Before the New Year rolled around, we'd already been talking about making big changes in our lives:

moving someplace warm
finding satisfying work
taking classes
making TIME

My past lives have included long, glorious evenings that elude me now, evenings that had space for hanging out with friends, long and lazy meals, reading, team sports, walks, wandering in the garden; evenings that were five or so hours long and felt five hours long. I'm determined to get those back.

We'd already made these commitments to change, and then we hit a deer with our car. This experience kicked off another round of thinking about control: what to take control of and direct, and what to let go of because I can't control. Thinking may actually be the wrong word since it became the focus in less than a second during our car accident. Resolutions? Clarity?

I think of my veganism as an example of moving anthills into a line that points to my desired outcome. I can't close down feedlots or slaughterhouses, but I can be completely sure they never see a penny of mine by eschewing animal products repeatedly, throughout every day.

And now the deer. We'd killed someone and could have been seriously hurt ourselves.

I immediately re-commited to our quest for warmth, for ocean, for open time and space. I felt motivated to work on our house so that we'll be able to rent it and move. Seeing the body of the deer we killed torn apart and scattered made me think (among other things) about my body and its fragility. I immediately quit caffeine and alcohol to try and get my migraines under control. I started eating a lot more raw food wanting to shed anything unnecessary, weight and waste, but also streamlining preparation. I feel like I'm seeing a bit more clearly, and I want that to continue.

These are the plums after they've been fished out of the finished vodka. Plum vodka was a clear winner in flavors, but the plums themselves are STRONG. They kind of taste like a seriously alcoholic fruitcake.

A lot of the food I've been eating is so simple that the preps can't really be called recipes. But one raw fudge recipe that a friend shared for Christmas is really a recipe, a magical sweet that makes candy seem ridiculous. This fudge knows important facts:

Great things are often simple things.
The most important ingredient in sweets is salt.

The recipe is Sarma's of Pure Food and Wine. It came to me via fancy pants designer Matthew Robbins. It takes a couple of minutes to prepare, and one batch goes a long way. I'm told that the paddle on a Kitchen Aid makes mixing a breeze, but a big old spoon did the job just fine.

Raw Freezer Fudge
2 c raw almond butter
1/4 c cocoa powder sifted
1/2 c + 2 T maple syrup
1 heaping T coconut butter
2 t vanilla
1 t coarse sea salt
It's important to use the best and creamiest almond butter you can get your hands on. If you get one that doesn't have enough oil to be pliant, add extra coconut butter.

Mix thoroughly. Sarma flattens it all into a pan then cuts it into 1 inch cubes. Matthew flattens it into paper candy cups, for single servings. I don't have candy cups, just cupcake size papers, so I roll little balls in my hands, flatten them, and put each one its own cupcake paper. Go pack fudge!

by Wendy MacNaughton

Constant Kale Salad

2010-11-04T11:41:00.012-04:00

At this time last year we were doing the first winter C.S.A. distributions. Some people were thrilled to get sweet fall kale, and others grumbled, complaining that there was always more kale than anyone was interested in eating. Brussels were a contested item, too, but there were more than a few converts when members shared a recipe for roasting them with a touch of maple syrup.

I get this and I don't. I love kale every which way and every day, and eat it straight off the plant. But I understand, too. I don't love broccoli rabe as much as the rest of the world, so get that some bitters need just the right ingredients combined with them to be palatable for some.

My latest favorite way to eat kale is a combination of two other kale recipes I love, one lightly cooked with pine nuts and cranberries, and one raw with lemon, garlic, and agave (like they serve at Bonobo's).

My new fave is raw, fast, and skips the agave. I often skip the garlic, too. It tastes delicious, looks absolutely beautiful, and is one of those foods that makes you feel invigorated rather than putting you to sleep. Make it with purple kale for special occasions!

Raw Lemon Kale Salad

Two bunches of curly kale
One lemon
1/3 c dried cranberries
1 T olive oil
1 seriously tiny clove of garlic

Remove the kale leaf spines, and slice the leaves into narrow ribbons. Bruise the leaves by squeezing handfuls. Do this until the bulk of the kale reduces by half. Mince the garlic and mix it with the juice of the lemon, the oil, and the cranberries. Stir into the kale (well) and let the mixture sit at room temperature for at least fifteen minutes. Tastes best served at room temperature.

Kimchi Pancakes

2010-10-21T09:14:00.000-04:00

Yup, that there is vegetarian kimchi with a clever emphasis on ginger and fresh chilies, and garlic downplayed.

It's much like having to finish meals as a kid because of starving kids in China: you really ought to be enjoying lots of kimchi because people in South Korea are freaking out over their shortage.

As promised at our kimchi shindig, we'll be posting a bunch of great recipes here that use kimchi. (If you're making your own kimchi, there are a zillion recipes available for that, too.)

Let's start with KIMCHI PANCAKES, adapted from the NYT.

for the pankcake:

1/2 c flour
1/2 c potato starch
1 mashed potato with 1 t flax meal folded in
2 scallions, cut into 1 1/2-inch-long pieces
1 1/2 T garlic, sliced thinly
1 1/2 T Korean red pepper powder or 1/2 T cayenne
1 t salt
1 c prepared cabbage kimchi, cut in 3-inch-long pieces
2 T kimchi juice
6 T vegetable oil

for the dipping sauce:

1 T tamari
1/4 t sesame oil
1/4 t vinegar
1/4 t minced scallion
1/4 t ground sesame seeds

1. Make dipping sauce: In a small bowl, combine soy sauce, sesame oil, vinegar, scallion, sesame seeds and one-half tablespoon water. Set aside.

2. In a large bowl, mix flour, potato starch and mashed potato until smooth. Add scallions, garlic, red pepper powder, salt, kimchi and its juice. Mix well. Batter will be pale pink.

3. Place an 8- or 9-inch nonstick skillet over medium-high heat and add 1 tablespoon vegetable oil. When oil is hot, pour in one-third of the pancake batter. Fry until golden and crisp, about 3 to 4 minutes. Lift pancake with a spatula, add 1 tablespoon oil to pan and swirl it. Flip pancake and fry other side until golden, 2 to 3 minutes. Flip again, without adding oil, and fry for 1 minute. Flip one more time and fry 1 to 2 minutes. Pancake should be dark gold.

4. Repeat with remaining batter and oil, making 3 pancakes. Remove to a large round plate and cut each pancake into 6 wedges. Serve with dipping sauce.

Kimchi Fest

2010-10-11T12:40:00.006-04:00

Our kimchi always causes a fuss at the market. Sometimes that means people stomping and hollering over the heat, groups of Koreans excited to find a familiar flavor, people yelling at us for not warning them properly about the spice level before they taste, and vegetarians excited to finally find a fish-free version of this beloved food (it usually contains anchovies and fish sauce). Besides the spice and ferment phobic few, most people are incredibly happy to find kimchi at the market, even if it is made by a white girl. We're often scolded for not making enough of the stuff.

The main ingredient, nappa cabbage, is in shortage this year in Asia, but growing in abundance in the Hudson Valley. There should be a ton of kimchi as well! At market, after the sweating and yipping are past, and as people are tucking jars of kimchi into their bags, they often ask for ways to serve it.

And so Kimchi Fest is born. We've made three times the amount of kimchi we usually do, and will be cooking up some sample ways to eat it. These may include kimchi pancakes, kimchi guacamole, kimchi soup, and more. Come try this treasured Korean staple for yourself.

Growing Brazil

2010-10-11T12:30:00.001-04:00

Here are a few photos taken in the spring of this year of various farming methods in the Northeast of Brazil. I guess I saved them to look at again on a chilly day.

Banana, coconut, and mango trees in a valley, Areia, Paraíba, Brasil.

Raised garden bed using plastic bottles, Rio de Janeiro, Brasil.

Tiered hillside farm, in the countryside in Pernambuco, Brasil.

Sugarcane fields with small patches of jungle still visible on the hilltops. near Tamandare.

Harvest Season

2010-10-03T11:09:00.004-04:00

frozen peaches

This time last year was a flurry of activity in preparation for the winter C.S.A. We'd been working hard since March, but the first touch of cold kicked us in the pants and made us very aware that we had limited time to prepare and store food for all our member families. This winter, the C.S.A. won't be operating, but all that means is that people who've had a taste of what it's like to eat local food through the winter need to take a few steps to make that happen. Saving food for a bunch of families is a challenge, but it's really not that hard to do it for just one.

I recently led a fermentation workshop with the Putnam County Holistic Moms, which was great fun, and we also had a discussion about easy things to do to extend the harvest. Cold mornings may make you think the growing season's all over, aside from a winter squash or two, but that's far from the truth. Here are some quick (and incomplete) lists I shared with the mothers:

Top 10 Tips to eat local year-round

Befriend your freezer.
Rig up your own root cellar.
Cover your crops.
Dehydrate.
Learn about wild food.
Plant edible perennials.
Ferment.
Can like granny.
Sprout.
Plant in sunny windows.

There's nothing complicated in that list, and detailed information online about all of it. Type "solar dehydrate onions" (for example) into search and you've got everything you need.

If you're thinking you're done in the garden and that its time to sit by the fire with soup, you're wrong! (Save that for January.) For now, there's work to be done.

September has passed, but I'm including some Sept. chores because there are some that still apply:

September

Freeze & can peaches
Freeze raspberries
Freeze red peppers
Freeze zucchini
Freeze greens
Dehydrate tomatoes
Dehydrate beans
Make hot pepper sauce (I'm doing this today!)
Ferment everything

October

Can pears and apples
Freeze cooked squash & pumpkin
Dehydrate herbs
Freeze pesto
Freeze greens
Peel & dry black walnuts
Eat pawpaws & kiwis (they'll make you feel like you're in the tropics)
Pickle wild grape leaves
Ferment everything

November

Cover garden
Make sauerkraut
Root cellar apples
Root cellar potatoes
Freeze greens
Root cellar turnips, radishes, etc.
Move mushroom logs to basement
Ferment everything

December

Root cellar carrots
Eat last covered garden vegetables
Prune perennials
Can fancy, time-consuming recipes with frozen produce
Visit winter farm markets
Ferment everything

If, like me, you find yourself with a gazillion berries or apples or tomatoes all at one time, preserving makes great sense. Nothing goes to waste, and with a little effort now, winter is far, far tastier.

Brooklyn Figs

2010-09-18T11:07:00.004-04:00

After the demise of my own fig tree, I thank the goddesses that I spend time in Italian Brooklyn neighborhoods. There, though there is a chill, I am still enjoying figs off the trees.

Goodbye, Huguenot Street Farm

2010-09-06T19:51:00.004-04:00

After 12 years of veganic farming, this 76.5 acre farm and C.S.A. in New Paltz is for sale. There are a lot of interested buyers, but none, yet, that will carry on farming the land without animals. It'd be a fantastic farm school, a beautiful source for New York City's vegetarian restaurants, and, of course, a great veganic C.S.A. If you know anyone interested and able, get in touch with the Khoslas, who are willing to give a deal to someone with plans that honor the land's history. Only contact the sellers with serious inquiries, please.

Freezer Pickles Demystified

2010-09-01T17:08:00.019-04:00

Conceptually, I've been weirded out by the freezer pickle. Pickles are fermented, or soaked in fermented products (vinegar), and freezers put a stop to fermentation. Great pickles are crunchy, and freezers can make watery veggies, like cucumbers, mushy by bursting their cell walls. A useful thing about pickles is that they can be stored at room temperature, therefore not using any energy. Freezers are all about energy.

So what is the deal with freezer pickles?

I picked a week where I was beyond busy to investigate. That turned out to be okay, because let me tell you the secret of why people make freezer pickles: it's the fastest, simplest way.

There are limitations, of course. There will never be a freezer nuka pickle. There will never be a deeply fermented spicy garlic dill, with all those naturally occurring probiotic bacterias that feel so great in your belly and have such great flavor.

But if you're a fan of bread & butter style pickles, or super crisp pickle chips, or sour flavors, the freezer isn't a bad way to go.

Again, here I tread in dangerous waters that show my lack of understanding of chemistry & other high school sciences, but, sugar & vinegar are necessary ingredients. The sugar keeps the cucumbers extremely crisp, and the vinegar keeps the cukes from freezing all the way. Where the freezing air comes in is this: it expands the cells enough to let the flavor of the vinegar & spices in, fast. Then the vinegar goes on duty, keeping the hard freeze at bay, and keeping the texture from going mushy.

If you've read this far, you've spent more time reading than it takes to make freezer pickles. I had a mental block against this pickling method, but I have to say, freezer pickles are sour and sweet supercrunch satisfaction.

Simplest Freezer Pickle Recipe Ever
8 c small cucumbers, cleaned & trimmed
1 medium onion, thinly sliced
2 T coarse sea salt
1 1/2 c sugar
1 1/2 c white vinegar
1 T whole celery seeds
1 T whole mustard seeds
Place cucumber and onion slices in a large bowl. Sprinkle with salt and stir to mix. Let sit for about 30 minutes at room temperature. (I'm a pickler, and solidly believe in this step. Still, mine only had time to sit for about 15 minutes.)

Meanwhile, combine the sugar, vinegar, celery seeds and mustard seeds in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil over high heat, then pour over the cucumbers in the bowl. Stir well, let cool, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 24 hours (more or less), stirring occasionally. (I skipped the refrigeration altogether.)

Transfer to individual freezer containers or zipper-top bags and freeze for a minimum of 24 hours. Defrost and eat, anytime.

I was a bit aghast, but my freezer pickles, from a simple recipe where I'd cut corners even further, got raves.

Cabbie Gardens

2010-09-01T16:59:00.006-04:00

Big, yellow blossoms drew my attention to a plant at the Beacon train station recently. It's sort of miraculous for me to notice anything at the train station, since I'm there not-yet-awake in the very early morning, and dog tired after dark. So let's just say they were bright, miraculous blooms.

I kept watching this particular plant, and grew more interested when it became clear that it was a) a cantaloupe; and b) thriving. I had designs on one of the huge fruits I saw growing there, but realized it must belong to someone: someone must be tending it. That was confirmed when the biggest of the fruits was one day intentionally "hidden" by a clump of dead grass.

I had a chat with Raphael of Raphael Taxi this morning. You see, this particular plant is right by where all the cabbies line up to vie for fares when travelers get off the train. Yup, this plant (and the several others Raphael pointed out to me) are planted and nurtured by the cab drivers. They're particularly proud of that watermelon sized fruit that caught my eye.

It's exciting to see that people all over Beacon are claiming unused space to grow food!

Basil Lillet Cocktail

2010-08-30T06:06:00.004-04:00

Because summer is so ridiculously short, this year I've been making an effort to live it up while it lasts. This past weekend that meant lighting luminarias in the yard and making basil cocktails to drink with friends. The recipe is for one serving, which makes no sense, so go ahead and triple it right off for a blender-full. Thanks for one last taste of summer via pretty green drinks, Martha.

Officially Salsa Season

2010-08-26T10:00:00.012-04:00

The glut that was cucumbers and squash is now tomatoes and peppers and peaches and eggplants. Cherry tomatoes are literally dripping off the plants, and cayenne bushes look like Christmas decor. I feel like a [nonviolent] pilgrim I'm so grateful for the excess of the nightshade season. Its excess and its fleeting nature are both great arguments for employing some basic preservation methods. Along with fermenting, canning, oil pickling, and dehydrating, though, it's great to revel in the fresh stuff.

Tomatillo Salsa Verde
Cilantro Salsa
Smoky Peach Salsa Obviously you'd use loads of fresh peaches in this recipe—it's August! And the ginger may seem odd to you, but it works.
Salsa Cruda
Canned Salsa for winter fiestas
Zucchini & Rasberry Salsa

Simple Dimple

2010-08-19T12:22:00.003-04:00

I like being up early in the mornings, before anyone else is stirring. I like to be in the garden while all the neighbors are still quiet, wandering and looking, in slow-mo, while things are still simple, and before my brains get going.

A great thing about late summer is getting to eat food that tastes much like those first morning moments: cucumber and tomato slices with a little bit of olive oil, pepper and salt; boiled whole potatoes and carrots with a spot of pesto; a crispy red pepper rolled into a tortilla; piles of peaches or pears or plums; raw ears of corn. They are exactly what they are, full, large flavors, even, but not complicated. No work for this food, no thought at all, and it's perfect anyway.

Are those paws not the loveliest?

Sure, I get excited to make new, funny recipes like jello with rosé wine (with non-animal gelatin, of course). I get excited by learning there are more flowers I can use in food preps, like forsythia. And I really enjoy prepping for winter eating by putting up some of the great farm foods we're enjoying right now.

It's also nice when things come easy, take no thought, and are better than you could have ever dreamed. Like a cherry tomato in August.

Slime & Broth

2010-08-19T06:06:00.014-04:00

Regardless of the weird cool spell, it's the time of year that long-growing produce becomes available, and a very good reason, in my book, to turn to Vegan Soul Kitchen for some inspiration. When I look at what I've got (okra, watermelon, corn corn corn, the most delicious tomatoes), I know Bryant Terry is the right guy to figure out my next meal. And it's working out between he and I: he's not afraid of spice, of a sweet tooth, a foofy cocktail, or even of extreme simplicity.

When I read the "recipe" for sweet corn broth, essentially cobs with the corn cut off for other purposes, boiled in water with a dash of salt, I thought it might be too zen for me, but I did end up sipping some corn broth eventually, and I found it to be quite nice for those times that you want a little something but aren't full on hungry. (Since then, I've come to the realization that I might be a real broth/infusion fan, having sipped mint water, ginger water, pickle brine, bean broth and the like in just a handful of days. Oh miso, oh mushroom broth and seawood broth, oh oh oh.) And I'm not one of those wilting in the heat kinda gals who can barely lift her head for a sip of broth. I love summer heat, and I love food, but these simple (watery) foods are somehow extremely satisfying.

Broths aside for the moment, here's my favorite dish of August so far: lemon jalapeno okra. Terry mentions that he's a slime-phobe, and approaches okra carefully. I've never had a problem with the slikity-slime, but when I once complemented a chef on the best okra I'd ever eaten, he assumed I had the slime block, and shared his secret from Caribbean cooking: citrus kills the slime.

Have at it!

Lemon Jalapeno Okra

- 1 lb fresh, small okra pods, cut in quarters lenthwise
- 1 diced jalapeno
- 2 T olive oil
- 1 clove garlic, crushed
- Juice of one lemon
- Salt & fresh ground pepper to taste

I don't fry a lot, mostly because I hate cleaning up spatter, but this crispy okra is worth it. Throw everything in a pan and fry it until crispy! I start with half of the oil and half of the lemon, add the rest of the oil when the pan gets dry, and use the last half of the lemon in the last minute of cooking.

And, before August is through, can, dehydrate, and freeze some things, would ya? It's tempting to laze about in a hammock, but those of us who want good food from around here through winter need to get to work!

Turning on the Oven in Summer

2010-07-31T12:06:00.009-04:00

It's a transition day! When you try to eat with the seasons, the year becomes a series of phases: when you first get to eat wild weeds in the spring, the first blossoms on your veggie plants, the first ripe berries, the first fresh pesto, the first flower you pop into your mouth, the first bulb of garlic, the first pepper that turns red, the first watermelon, the first pumpkin, the first freeze, the first food out of the root cellar, the first window sill greens, and back around. To me, everything tastes new each time, like a revelation.

Today, this last day before August and after many meals of summer squash, we have produce we've been waiting for: tomatoes, eggplant, and corn. (That came out sounding like I don't marvel at the arrival of summer squash, which I do.) Surprisingly, it was also cool this morning (in the fifties!), so after I threw a peach raspberry tart in the oven to warm my shivering self, I got to work on roasting a batch of eggplants for baba ghannouj.

While everything was in the oven, I marveled for the umpteenth time about how The Joy of Cooking is not the mayonnaise-y casserole-y tome I sometimes think of it as. A re-read of the "Condiments, Marinades & Dry Rubs" section alone shows it's reach: Georgian garlic and walnut sauce, picada, harissa, chutneys, flavored oils, sambal, mojo, curry pastes, and recipes for ketchups that actually taste good—unlike those we're familiar with eating out of squeeze bottles.

I heartily welcome August with baba ghannouj, bruschetta, and pickled corn rounds.

Smoky Baba Ghannouj Recipe
Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
10-12 Chinese eggplants
1 1/2 T tahini
2 T sesame oil that's gathered on top of tahini paste
3 cloves garlic
Juice of 3 small lemons
3/4 t smoked sea salt
Pierce eggplants and oven roast in a pan with a little water and little vegetable oil, approximately 45 minutes. Eggplants should be soft, and the flesh should separate from the skin relatively easily. Let cool, then scrape flesh into food processor, composting stems and skins. Yes, you can keep the seeds in. Add all other ingredients and pulse until smooth.

Now, to find a source for good local bread . . . .

Was Away

2010-07-30T19:23:00.011-04:00

and now back....

Herb

2010-07-19T22:23:00.002-04:00

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I'm not a great gardener. Still, growing dill shouldn't be difficult. My dill plants stay small, droop, and certainly never volunteer. This is a sad thing for a pickle maker. I'm plush with grape leaves from all the wild grape vines in the area. (Grape leaves keep cucumbers crunchy while pickling, especially in warm weather.) I'm okay with garlic, too. But great quantities of dill have been elusive.

So what happened this weekend is a great thing: I set up a dill barter. I met a farmer who has lots of dill that grows perennially, like a weed, and the plants are more than five feet tall. In fact, he has too much dill, since it's spreading and taking over a bit. Both he and I think that a big jar of pickles for a load of unruly dill is a great trade.

Some things grow fantastically without any help from me. Take this plant that shot up amongst weeds in a neglected spot: it was eight feet tall before I noticed it. Now it's about ten feet tall, and it has a sibling coming up about twenty feet away. I'm not familiar with this plant—are you? For a minute I thought it's jagged, five-fingered leaves might be hemp, but a quick plant ID ruled that out. (Yeah, you can laugh at my naivete here.) Hemp's leaves have long, witch fingers, whereas this plant's leaves are more like paws, like classic maple leaves. And they're huge. One leaf is nearly a foot across.

If you know, help me out!

And, on a totally unrelated note, it's the time of year where I'm in awe every single day over hydrangeas. They're so plush and over the top!

Mary with Pickles

2010-07-16T22:58:00.009-04:00

I ran into my friend Karen in the NYTimes the other day. She was in a video making bloody marys which was funny, because I'd just been making bloody mary mix with pickle brine. I don't see Karen that often, because she's always working—that's what happens when you're the manager at a schmancy restaurant, in this case one that has an extensive bloody mary menu. She reminded me how good pickles go with bloody marys, and the most important takeaway: don't forget the fresh lemon. Happy weekend!

Air & Water

2010-07-15T14:51:00.011-04:00

For years, we've been feeling naive about having bought our house: a too-big fixer-upper that we'll never have the money or skills to fix up. It wasn't in the neighborhood we wanted, we thought it was ugly and run down with too many weird small rooms, and the yard a steep triangle, but, and that's a big but, it has three porches.* There's one glass porch with old paned windows, one screened porch that feels like a treehouse, and a huge open wraparound porch.

It's this third porch that is lately making the house feel like a genius move. It's been beautiful, with views of the mountains and lots of moving air and lots of cats. We've sat on the porch to watch the World Cup, to work, to eat meals, and to watch the moon rise. Getting to be on the porch during all the summer rainstorms has definitely been the kicker.

The old crumbling porch has proven to be more satisfying than the not so old, falling apart pool. Excuse me while I get back to patching.

*and a rootcellar!

Pictorial Tutorial

2010-07-12T06:07:00.016-04:00

For my friend who wants cool summer rolls all the time, has the recipe, and still won't make them. LOOK, it's easy.

Everything won't always be perfect, if you're just learning to roll, for example, or if you stray from your regular brand of wrappers. But choose ingredients you like, and they'll taste great regardless. These were made late at night when I was exhausted, wrappers crumbling, and without perfect ingredients. They weren't beautiful, but we were really glad we had them to nibble on for the next couple of days.

Rice noodles, rice wrappers, veggies, and herbs equal multiple tasty lunches, done cheap and easy.

Drinking and Smoking

2010-07-11T10:23:00.002-04:00

I get obsessed with things that I can't explain.

One current obsession is smoked flavor, as in, smoked sea salt, smoked paprika, liquid smoke, smoked chipotles. Besides the chilies, I don't yet know how to use these flavors well, but am experimenting a lot.

The other thing that's come out of the blue is wanting to infuse vodka.

Now, I'm not a big drinker. When I do have a drink, vodka isn't usually my choice. I prefer old tequilas, rich ouzos, varieties of cachaça, and drinks that are like meals, such as rich dark beers with chili powder, salt and lime, or thick spicy bloody marias with tons of celery. But lately I want to see veggies, herbs, spices, and fruits floating in jars of vodka so that I can experiment with the outcomes.

I guess it's not entirely out of the blue: I've always liked a pretty cocktail, with frozen currants in place of ice, or with the lip of the glass spiced, or with a couple of raspberries muddled in for color. And, I've always loved seeing preserved things floating in liquid, which explains why I enjoy both fermentation and the Mütter Museum.

My first infused vodka experiment with be with these tiny local plums. They're sweet and tart and colorful, and so far haven't made it any further than getting popped in my mouth whole, making me smack like a horse in Brazil eating mangos.

Do you have any experience making infused liquor with homegrown ingredients?

Purslane

2010-07-10T07:17:00.017-04:00

Some weeds are tastier than others, and the lemon crunch of purslane makes it really desirable to eat. Yeah, yeah, it's great for you and all that (more Omega 3s than any other land plant), and free and growing in the cracks of your sidewalk, but its flavor makes it one of those plants that makes you wonder why you haven't always been eating it.

Purslane is a succulent, like a jade plant or aloe or cactus. It's the kind of plant they tell Southern Californians to plant close to their house to help save it from wildfires. Succulents store a large amount of liquid in their leaves, or their stems or roots. The liquid in purslane can be used as a thickener in soups, similar to okra.

But the tastiest use of purslane by far is raw, in salads, or added after cooking, and the leaves, flowers, and stems can all be eaten. Greeks and North Africans have made use of purslane the longest, so its no wonder that the majority of purslane recipes combine it with cucumbers, mint, parsley, or yogurt. Mexico uses this plant as their parsley (called verdolagas), adding it raw to cooked foods for crunch, color, and tang.

Here are two recipes that make good use of mid-summer produce:

Grilled Zucchini Salad with Purslane and Tomato
Gourmet | August 2002

ingredients

1 t finely grated fresh lemon zest
3 T fresh lemon juice
1 T finely chopped shallot
1/4 t Dijon mustard
1/2 t salt
1/3 c extra-virgin olive oil plus additional for brushing zucchini
1/4 t black pepper
3 T chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
4 zucchini (1 3/4 to 2 lb total), halved lengthwise
12 oz purslane, thick stems removed (4 c)
10 oz pear or cherry tomatoes, halved lengthwise

Prep Prepare grill for cooking. If using a charcoal grill, open vents on bottom of grill. Make dressing: Whisk together zest, lemon juice, shallot, mustard, and salt in a small bowl. Add oil in a slow stream, whisking until dressing is emulsified. Whisk in pepper and parsley. Grill zucchini: Lightly brush zucchini all over with oil. When fire is hot (you can hold your hand 5 inches above rack for 1 to 2 seconds), grill zucchini, cut sides down first, on lightly oiled grill rack, uncovered, turning once, until zucchini are just tender, 8 to 12 minutes total. Transfer to a cutting board and cool slightly, then cut diagonally into 1/2-inch-thick slices. Toss zucchini with purslane, tomatoes, and dressing in a large bowl. Serve immediately.

Chopped Arabic Salad
Gourmet | May 2004

ingredients

1 lemon
3/4 t sea salt
1/4 t freshly ground black pepper
3 T olive oil
2 (1/2-lb) cucumbers, peeled, halved lengthwise, seeded, and cut into 1/4-inch dice (2 1/3 c)
1 lb tomatoes (3 medium), cut into 1/3-inch dice (2 1/2 cups)
1 c finely chopped red onion (1 small) or 1 cup chopped scallions (about 5)
1 c purslane leaves and flowers (break off with your hands rather than chopping to keep the visual appeal of the plant)
1 c finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley (from 1 large bunch)
1/2 cup finely chopped fresh mint

prep Cut peel, including all white pith, from lemon with a sharp paring knife. Working over a bowl, cut segments from half of lemon free from membranes and transfer segments to a cutting board, then squeeze juice from membranes and remaining 1/2 lemon into bowl. Transfer 2 tablespoons juice to a large bowl, then finely chop segments and add to measured juice. Add salt, pepper, and oil, whisking to combine, then stir in remaining ingredients.

Dilly Susan K.

2010-07-09T18:43:00.006-04:00

My friend Susan died this week after a six year struggle with cancer. Being who I am (and not knowing yet what other memorial will take place), I made her dilly beans. Or rather, made them in her honor.

Beans are high on the best anti-cancer foods lists because they act as protease inhibitors. All dark red and purple foods appear on that list, too, because of their flavenoids. Susan was a photographer and had an eye for beautiful things, so purple beans seem right.

Note that the purple color will disappear into the hot vinegar, turning the vinegar dark, but leaving the beans green.

Pelé & Pickles

2010-06-27T20:31:00.014-04:00

I've been a bit distracted from the food business, what with all the soccer and kittens and the dyke marches and hot days that require dipping in lakes, streams, baby pools, and oceans.

Yes, we've trapped some kittens at the Beacon train station that need homes, so if you know anybody interested and responsible, please have them email wintergreenscsa@gmail.com. The three we've caught so far are all boys, all super playful and sweet.

One of the rescued kittens we're trying to find a home for got named Pelé. I was obsessed with Pelé as a kid, since my #1 soccer team was green and I was #10. Alas, I wasn't great at the sport. (I was obsessed with Muhammad Ali, too, but never inspired to take up boxing.) I'm not much of a sports follower, since I think they're much nicer to participate in than to watch on tv, but the World Cup is an exception. I was proud to be sitting under a magazine cover of Pelé while watching Ghana knock out the U.S. Thank goodness we had vuvuzelas, because we would have otherwise been unheard in that sweaty little bar of people chanting "U.S.A.". Rooting for other countries elicits funny responses from people: the Brazil flag hung outside our house got our neighbor to immediately put our her U.S. flag. She's not interested in soccer, only patriotism.
wintergreens is struggling to figure out its future (it's cool to be transparent about this, right?), since running a food biz or org these days is challenging. Other handmade food biz people talk about how amazingly time-consuming and expensive it is to do, and it's true, it is. It's outrageous! I shouldn't have, but I bought a huge watermelon this weekend that, of course, was shipped from far south, since our watermelons won't be ripe for a long time. All that shipping and handling, and all the effort to grow that melon, and it only cost $2.99. And it's one of those creepy seedless kind, so you can't even save the seeds to plant next year. How are small food producers to deal with this? It's hard for me to resist my frugal impulses, even, with all the information about food systems I have, and while in the middle of a struggle to promote food-done-right. Exhibit A: cheapo seedless watermelon from far away.

I looked at the wares of Brooklyn pickle makers Brooklyn Brine and McClure's in Whole Foods in the city. I support what they're doing, but would I have to can or vaccuum pack my pickles (kill off half of their good qualities) and sell them for $11 a jar to make it? To many, that price tag would be laughable.
Thinking about all this is a bummer. And I read this dumpster diver's blog and think that if I were truly brave I'd cut out some of my (personal, not business) costs this way. Back in college, when Dunkin Donuts instructed their employees to dump bleach on the donuts they threw away so that the homeless people wouldn't eat them, my friend invited all the neighborhood homeless people to the shop an hour before closing, gave them all the donuts, and served free coffee. She was fired, so her good deed and hard work doing outreach went unrewarded. How do you make good work rewarding enough that you get to continue it?

So let's just say I've been happy to be in kitten land and soccer land, and plot how and when I'll get to the beach. I have to get back to work though, so help me find these kitties homes, and send your hot tips for how to survive in the handmade food business.

I promise, new recipes, tales of prison food, and much more coming soon.

" '10 was a good year...."

2010-06-18T14:37:00.008-04:00

If kombucha tastings worked like wine tastings, that's what the sniffers and swirlers would be saying about wintergreens' lastest bottles of kombucha. These are (left to right) bilberry, lemon ginger, and elderberry, and they taste fantastic.

We can't get local sugar or tea leaves, but we can use local flavorings, so watch out for forthcoming flavors: currant, mulberry, wild blackberry, rasberry, pear, lilac, and juneberry.

Fresh Peas & a Home Haircut

2010-06-11T13:59:00.006-04:00

A shrink I had many years ago told me I self-medicated by eating enormous amounts of peas.

I don't know if she was referring to all the sugar or if peas have some other magical happiness-boosting component. I can say that squatting and picking peas for hours this morning under the big sky felt great, and that I did consume at least a pound between the time spent picking and the trip home.

I gave myself a haircut this morning, too, which also makes me happy. When people cut their own hair in movies they're usually experiencing a break. Think Jodie Foster in The Accused or Julia Roberts in Steel Magnolias. Actually, didn't that gorgeous actress playing crazy in Betty Blue chop her hair, too? Since I cut my own hair often, I'd like to think that my chops are not the result of trauma, instead, just plain cathartic. To me, it feels much like tidying up the kitchen. Clean, fresh, ready for anything.

No Tofu

2010-06-04T15:39:00.004-04:00

Alert to regulars—there will be no fresh tofu tomorrow at market.

I am sad to report that our friend Mickey, our regular tofu-talking delivery guy, has passed away. I'm kind of glad there will be a gap in tofu sales—it seems only proper that Mickey's death should disrupt us!

Please forgive our soy pause while our thoughts are with Mickey's family and friends, and we'll be back to our regular programming soon. We'll have plenty of other goodies available at the Cold Spring Market tomorrow morning, including seitan, cashew cheese, spicy beer mustard, and a bunch of varieties of pickled veggies.

"Responsible" Meat Eating

2010-06-04T09:00:00.006-04:00

I went to a kitchen store in Brooklyn over Memorial Day weekend. They started up in the last couple of years, gave interesting classes in their tight space, and sold vintage cookware alongside the new. I loved this store. Not only did they have nice tools, they had good aesthetics, and were a small player who gave helpful individual advice. They seemingly had good politics: people rode their bikes there, they taught customers about preservation and reuse, and talked about locally produced food. They sold old school tools like pickling crocks. It seemed like they were a part of the movement to take things back into our own hands, and do them better than big business would.

They still exist, yet I write about them like it's over. That's because they've moved into a big space with a proper kitchen classroom and joined up with another business, a butcher. There's a full deli counter, barbeques big enough to roast whole pigs, and a room that I never fully looked at, because I was convinced it is where they butcher animals, and teach other people to kill animals themselves. I had no evidence, just a vibe. A strong, awful feeling, that came from more than just the smell of the place.
If I think about Brooklyn Kitchen's move from a purely business perspective, I get why they did it. The new space is huge, they can now sell all kinds of foods and conduct proper classes, and the meat will be a draw for a lot of hipsters, who think local bacon is the new black.

Seeing this, acknowledging this, really set me off in a spin.

I meet ex-vegetarians every day who now eat meat because they can get it from a local farmer at the farmer's market or specialized shop. Coffees are being made with bacon, my popsicle guy put bacon in one of his new flavors, Beacon's most popular buying club (traditionally for bulk grains and beans) is centered around local meat. I went into a shop for a vegan cookie the other day, and boar soup was on the menu.

Twenty years ago I went to brunch at a Seattle vegetarian restaurant on April Fool's Day. Their menu for the day included "easter" rabbit, spotted owl, sea turtle soup, all in fancy preparations. Gullible, I got upset before getting the joke. It didn't seem farfetched enough to me, I guess, and seems even less so now. These days, it seems practically everyone thinks it's okay to eat animals.

Except that we know better. We've read the China Study and the new U.N. report. We know how animals raised for food affect the environment, hunger, and our drinking water. We know that free range doesn't equal being outside, that humane is used all over the place for all kind of practices.
Because I live in a small town and know the farmers who sell meat and the people who buy meat, I know that most often people buy a small fraction of the meat they eat from local farmers. The grossest cheap meat on a styrofoam tray has risen to new heights in hearts and minds: people want to believe it's right and good to eat animals, and that their palettes are king. They get the expensive farmer's market stuff for the cred.

Food is important to me, too, very important. When I took St. John's wort for a stint and lost my appetite, I thought I'd be glad to have lost so much weight. Instead, I missed food, missed eating and tasting and all the pleasure and socializing that came with it.

I'm the worst person to talk about meat-eating because as a long-time vegan and animal rights activist, I won't be seen as level-headed, or looking at all sides. But I swear, if I had an intern, I'd have them research this:
- How much food is produced in the Mid-Hudson Valley that is consumed locally?
- How does that food break down in categories? What percentage are vegetables, fruit, grains, animals?
- How do the resources to produce those foods break down?

It seems to me that there are a lot of farmers who grow tons of veggies, a little bit of fruit, and have enough animals for a few eggs, some goat's milk, and send the occasional animals to slaughter. (Right, send them to a slaughterhouse. It's illegal for them to do it themselves.) My guess is that it would be something like a 90%, 5%, 3%, 2% breakdown. Shouldn't this mean, then, that people concerned about eating local foods eat an (at least) 90% vegetable diet?

Pardon our Dust

2010-06-03T15:59:00.004-04:00

while we reorganize ourselves a bit...

wintergreens: How We Started

2010-05-28T18:33:00.006-04:00

wintergreens is a presence at Hudson Valley farmers markets selling pickled local produce and vegetarian staples (tofu, seitan, cashew cheese). In the winters we run a winter C.S.A. that distributes local produce all winter long. We do that by practicing some of the oldest methods for storing food: root cellaring, fermentation, dehydration, and more.

Here's how wintergreens came to be.

I moved to Beacon, NY several years ago. The most amazing thing about living here, for me, has been participating in community supported agriculture (well, and my beautiful porch. and the Hudson River.) My summers have been filled with so many gorgeous veggies, a weekly visit to the fields, picking flowers, and the smell of warm tomatoes and basil on my hands. But each year there comes a time when the days get shorter, the air gets a chill, and C.S.A. distributions end. It's a tragic time. I look at all the pathetic produce at the supermarket and want to cry. Then I look at the prices, and really want to cry. For years I'd been fabulously healthy during the summers, and weird and anemic in the winters.

There were winter C.S.A.s all over the country feeding hungry locavores, and it was time for Beacon to finally get its own. I took a fermentation workshop with Sandor Katz, and that really set the wheels in motion.

wintergreens is based on the belief that everybody should have access to local food. That's what a community food program is all about: rich, poor, fat, skinny, vegetarian or no, everybody should be eating food that's grown in their backyards. Living in the fertile Hudson Valley, there's a lot of food in our area! We all have a lot to gain to by supporting local farmers.

Therefore, I introduce to you wintergreens. It is food made from the same beautiful (organic and certified naturally grown) fruits and veggies we're getting in our farm shares. No pesticides, no wilting while traveling. Just beautiful, healthful food, preserved so that you don't have to get pale, weak, or hungry in the winter months, and you don't have to rely on Key Food!

*The photo is from that first fermentation workshop, and shows our "bruiser" breaking down the vegetables so they could brew in their own flavorful juices.

Summer Farmer's Market

2010-05-28T17:36:00.006-04:00

wintergreens will be at the Cold Spring Farmer's Market every first and third Saturday of each month, beginning June 5, from 8:30 to 1:30.

We'll have a variety of fermented vegetables, chutneys and mustard, quick pickles, and vegetarian staples, like fresh tofu, handmade seitan, and cashew cheese. See you there!

Berries Begin

2010-05-28T17:12:00.007-04:00

The heat is making a lot of berries ripen very quickly. If you belong to a C.S.A., you might be getting urgent calls to come pick strawberries. Today, we answered that call, and picked as many no-spray strawberries as we could stuff into our mouths, plus some to take home for later. We paused on Main St. in New Paltz to eat some already ripe mulberries, too, off the tree squeezed between the falafel place and the tie-dye incense place.
The mulberries by my house are on the verge of ripening, too: the birds, the squirrels, and I are all waiting eagerly.

If you don't have mulberries in your yard, some good, public picking trees are these: Beekman St. (on the way to the train station) over parking spots #565 and #556. These two trees have branches that hang low over the road, so it's easy to reach the fruit. If you're by the sloop club, check to see if the two June berry trees by the walkway have ripe berries yet, or harvest from the mulberry tree by the tracks, about 10 parking spaces to the left of the entrance to the tracks.

If you're up for a walk, some trees on the way to the old brick factory on Dennings Points have the biggest mulberries I've ever seen.

Happy foraging, and happy eating. Here's hoping you don't get berry juice on your clothes, like me.

Hobo Stew

2010-05-11T05:28:00.002-04:00

Secret ingredient = fire.
Fire makes food taste good. It's a fact.

When it comes to potatoes, they are exponentially better when roasted than when boiled or fried. When you roast potatoes on a fire, they are, in my opinion, the best they can be. Thank goodness I was a girl scout and learned to make hobo stew! There's plenty that's weird about scouting, and sometimes wrapping your food in foil and covering it in charcoals seems like one of those funny scout things. But if you've had this fire stew, you understand.

It's simple: cut up your onions, potatoes, celery, garlic, carrots, mushrooms, seitan, drizzle with olive oil, a bit of salt and freshly ground black pepper. Put everything on a double layer of foil, and fold it into a secure packet. Snuggle that packet into the coals of a fire, and sit back and enjoy the heat.

Maybe it's the pleasure of sitting outside by a fire that makes the food taste better. It's pleasant, surely, especially when you have a beer and the sun is setting and opossums wander by, but even when I eat leftovers (which I make sure there are), they taste better than if they were cooked indoors.

When the foil is blackened, flip the packet. The veggies will cook faster than they do in the oven. When you unwrap the foil packet, avoid the burning steam, then enjoy the tastiest "stew" possible. These days, it doesn't matter what we're grilling, we always prepare a packet of potatoes, onions, and garlic to fire roast, and enjoy later. Great payoff for two minutes of prep!

Distribution - April 25, 2010

2010-04-24T23:33:00.006-04:00

Well my friends, it is here, our last share of the season, and the one year birthday of wintergreens. It's been a honor working for you! Here's what today's distribution brings:

- frozen paletas, Zora Dora's
- fresh tofu, Local Tofu
- fresh sunchokes, wintergreens garden
- basil seedlings, Hudson Valley Seed Library
- black walnuts from the streets of Beacon, optional
- season "leftovers" including: sugar free applesauce, frozen carrot pulp, pickled cauliflower, fresh chives, fresh garlic, granola, pear honey, green and black kombucha, a kombucha mother, frozen red peppers, frozen pesto, fermented garlic pickles, fermented ruby kraut, dried red beans, dried wheatberries, and more.

Our featured businesses are Zora Dora's and Local Tofu. Our friend Steve of Zora Dora's works right on Main St., Beacon, making paletas from the freshest ingredients possible, and incorporating a lot of local produce in flavors: cucumber, tarragon, mint, beets, pears, rhubarb, strawberries, etc. He and I have chatted about creating pickle popsicles, and also getting pawpaws into his skilled hands this year. Yum.

Local Tofu is our trustworthy source for organic, locally made, bulk tofu. Many of our customers comment that it tastes completely different than what they can get in the grocery, and I attribute a lot of that to freshness. We love Local Tofu because of its counter-culture roots, their commitment to a quality product, our ability to get it without packaging, and because of its beautiful, beany taste.

If you haven't heard me rave before, you should know that sunchokes are pretty amazing: they grow tall easily along sunny borders, and have sunflower like blossoms. Their roots taste like nutty potatoes. These particular roots are from last year's plants, and they overwintered underground, in the soil. Yep, these roots are from last year's plants, and I just dug them up now, tasting sweeter than they did in fall. When something stores so well with even less effort and energy than root cellaring, it's a veggie to be embraced! Cut anything that looks like an eye or a sprouting bit off before eating, and plant in shallow soil if you're interested in having some of these grow (& reproduce!) in your yard. If you haven't eaten sunchokes before, go easy, because they can upset your stomach.

Hudson Valley Seed Library is offering a valuable service to us: local seeds. Before local veggies and local fruit comes local seed, accomplished by seed saving and tracking. These tiny seedlings are from local basil seed. That means not only that they haven't traveled, but also that they're perfectly suited to growing conditions in the Hudson Valley. So we've planted some basil plants. They are TINY, since I never found a spot for them that was both warm and light this spring. But, they are grown from local plants, and mine, last year, turned into big, bushy, productive things. When they're a couple of inches high, plant them in plenty of soil and enjoy fresh basil all summer.

Black walnuts, pictured here in their husks when first gathered, are a perennial local resource, and one we should learn to use. They are very tasty, strong even, and suited more for baking than for fresh eating. I say that they're an optional part of your share because of this: I didn't crack or shell the nuts for you. I apologize, but when dealing with tight finances, some things have to give, and one was that we never ponied up for the fancy black walnut cracker. That said, I think it's worth it to do so, so that you can collect and eat these nuts with ease every year, for free. It's still on the list of equipment to buy. In the meantime, you can make quick work of a handful of nuts with a hammer and a cloth bag, or with a table mounted vice. Here's the thing about black walnuts: after peeling the husks off in fall, it is important that they cure for several months in a dry place. These got a little too dry, it seems, so the nutmeat is a little shriveled and wrinkly. Since you're not popping them into your mouth raw, but chopping them into bread (mmmmm!) or sweets, they'll work just fine. Next year, though, I'd crack the nuts and use them (or freeze them) around February.

Leftovers can be a bummer, or they can be an excuse to eat pie for breakfast. We've got quite a little stock of items left from the season. If you come early you get the choice of the lot, and the grab-bag style of this last distribution will be a boon to you!

Thank goodness I know you'll be in good hands with Common Ground and Fishkill Farms—happy summer of plushness.

Mystery Trees of Rio

2010-04-21T05:33:00.007-04:00

If you live in Rio de Janeiro, or a climate like it, and recognize either of these trees, please let us know in comments what they are! Both have large rust and creme colored blooms. The first is all over the city. The second, spiny one I only saw in the small jungle atop Pão de Açúcar.

Are these "fruits" edible? Inquiring minds want to know!
Click on the pictures twice for a closer look.

Sick & Cilantro

2010-04-19T09:55:00.008-04:00

What do your tastebuds want when you're sick?

People talk about not being to taste anything, or everything tasting like metal when they're sick. Flavors definitely change for me, but I can definitely still identify flavor, and crave specific foods to satisfy what tastes good when I'm sick and stuffy.

For instance, to me, salt becomes sharper, to the point that I can't take much without foods tasting crazily oversalted. I know this specific taste change is the opposite for others, who I watch go wild salting, trying to be able to taste something, anything. Instead, I overdo the spiciness, pleased to sniffle and hoot and blow my nose a lot. I swear that hot chilies de-pressurize one's head for as long as the burning lasts. (I accidently typed "sweat" instead of "swear." Yeah, that's part of the scenario, too.)

A beverage that hits the spot when I'm sick is bubble juice. A toddler friend introduced me to this tickley throat remedy: spike your juice (orange, cranberry, whatever) with a healthy portion of seltzer, add lots of crushed ice, and let the freezing cold carbonation scratch and numb your throat.

Sharp fresh herbs are appealing to a sick me: tons of basil in garlicky bruschetta, tabouli ruled by parsley. Since I am currently yukky stuffy sick and there are no tomatoes yet, my craving has focused on an old favorite recipe: poblano cilantro pesto.

I've dug out my recipe notebook from college, when I went vegan and was learning how to put food together. Though the handwriting no longer looks like mine, it definitely is, with notes about vinegar cukes, green and yellow curry pastes, peanut dressing, cashew cheese, various veg patés and caviars, avocado cucumber soup, and that shredded veggie salad with lemon tahini and kelp powder that I ate constantly on toast. My book doesn't look like anyone's grandma's carefully preserved handwritten recipes, but it's got some treasures.

The poblano pesto recipe was passed along from a New Mexican friend who said it was from the 1989 Coyote Cafe Cookbook—all the rage in the southwest at that time. If you're not sick, but have the chemical makeup of a cilantro hater, the Times food section this week suggested that cilantro pestos may surprise you by not tasting soapy.

Poblano Pesto
6 T pine nuts, roasted in a dry skillet
6 green chiles, roasted and peeled
4 to 6 T olive oil
1 bunch of cilantro, washed very thoroughly
salt to taste
juice of 1 or 2 limes
1 sweet red pepper, roasted, peeled, seeded, and diced.
Blend everything but red pepper chunks to a paste in a food processor. Gently fold in red peppers.

This can be used to flavor up anything you're eating. It's amazing with cucumbers, for some reason. But the best way to serve it to the uninitiated is folded into pasta, and served at room temperature.

Let me know if any cilantro conversions occur.

Mango Pickle (and a way to use some of your mustard)

2010-04-17T10:26:00.007-04:00

I dig relishes and pickles, and one of my favorite things we made from local produce last summer was Indian Peach Pickle. It was super spicy, went through a panorama of spices on your tongue, and finished with the gorgeousness of the sweetest fresh peach.

Inspired by the beautiful fruit of Brazil, I tried this mango pickle recipe, and am now keeping a jar of it going at all time, just adding new ingredients as the old are depleted. If I were invited somewhere that I wanted to be sure to be invited back, I'd take along a batch of these pickles. They're that tasty.

Mango Pickle with Scorched Mustard Seed
3 firm, unripe mangos. peeled, pitted, and cut into thin wedges
Juice and grated zest of 2 limes
1/2 c peeled, grated fresh ginger
3 tablespoons minced garlic
2 teaspoons grainy mustard
1 or 2 jalepeños cut into thin slices
2 t kosher or coarse sea salt
Dash of your favorite hot pepper relish or hot sauce
Freshly cracked black pepper
3 T black mustard seed
1/2 c canola or sunflower oil
In a medium nonreactive bowl, combine the mangos with the lime juice and mix well. Set aside for one hour, tossing occasionally to coat. Drain the mangos and add the lime zest, ginger, garlic, mustard, jalapeños, salt, hot pepper relish, and black pepper to taste, mixing well. In a dry sauté pan over medium-high heat, cook the mustard seed, shaking the pan frequently, until the seeds crackle and jump and color of the seeds fades to an ashen gray, about or three minutes past the initial crackling. Add oil to the pan and cook for another minute. Remove from the heat, pour over the mangoes, and mix well. Mango pickles are ready to eat immediately, but the flavors will deepen and mellow significantly after a few weeks. Store them for 3 to 4 months, covered, in the refrigerator. From Quick Pickles by Schlesinger, Willoughby, and George.

Beacon Live

2010-04-16T12:33:00.006-04:00

Easing the transition from Northeast of Brazil to Northeast U.S. is the brand spanking new raw restaurant that opened last weekend in Beacon!

I've already had juices, a wrap, and a truffle, and plan to frequent this place. Back in its day, Juicy tried to feed Beacon's vegetarians and health conscious folk, and since it closed, left us with years of carnivorous-only restaurants. Welcome to town Superfood Citizen Cafe! We've been waiting for you...

Tropical Fruit

2010-04-15T22:09:00.009-04:00

I'm sorry to be a wimp, but, it's cold here in the mornings. I know it's all springy and pretty and the cherry trees are blossoming early and you can get away with leaving a window cracked over night. But when you've just come from a praia next to a turquoise ocean in América do Sul, forty five degrees is downright frosty. Um, and where's my fruit? With Brazil's delicious heat comes delicious food, and now I am very spoiled. Blog readers will know there's a slight fruit obsession round these parts.

Mornings in the Northeast of Brazil went something like this:

Wake to sounds of saguim whistling and carambola hitting the ground.
Open shutters and gaze at mamão tree to see if any are ripe yet.
Pull on shorts and put coffee on to brew. Wander out in bare feet to say good morning to monkeys.
Putter through the neighborhood chatting with said monkeys, picking and eating azeitona, pitanga, and acerola.
Marvel at the size of the jaca fruit. Some are as big as toddlers, I swear!
Imagine I might actually see a sloth someday (preguiça).
Pick and take home huge abacate that needs time off the tree to ripen, and pick up small, fallen manga for a snack later.
Collect carambola that have dropped overnight, and eat them whole on the porch with a cup of coffee.
Decide to go to the beach.
Curse at yet another truck that says "100% Jesus." Declare yourself 100% pansy, 100% monkey-lover, 100% bummed that evangelicalism has colonized the Brazilian mind.
Smell roasting castanha along the road, slam on brakes and buy a bag.
Swim and lounge. Buy abacaxi and boiled amendoim from vendors when hungry. Drink coco, which is a fresh coconut with a straw in it. No container necessary.
Visit farmers market on the way home.

You can see why waking up without access to bananas, to graviolas, to maracujá, would feel like a morning lived, well, not quite as well. Yes, there are down sides: my gringa skin is peeling off in great sheets and....that's all I can come up with for downsides. I'm making an effort to get back into the rhythm here. I'll do what we do in the Northeast of the U.S. in spring: wear flip flops with sweaters, enjoy flowers and seedlings and the appearance of leaves, eat the first edible weeds of the year (dandelions, garlic mustard, spring onions, fiddleheads), and watch for the emergence of all the pawpaw trees planted last summer. Soon we'll be ankle deep in juneberries and mulberries, and I'll wander around the yard barefooted talking with the cats and eating off the trees. I can't wait!

Distribution - April 11, 2010

2010-04-11T21:21:00.019-04:00

As promised, today's share features dulse from a great worker owned company: Ironbound Island.

Okay, so Maine isn't local, but it's not that far away either. These guys paddle out in the early morning, spend hours in the waves, and then dry their seaweeds either on a porch, or, when it's foggy, in a shed with a wood burning stove. They prefer to sell their seaweeds in bulk and eschew packaging. The gorgeous pictures on their site make me dream of getting to go try out seaweed harvesting and sleeping in a hammock. Check out the pretty photos and videos. Also, read Sandor Katz's story of harvesting with Ironbound Island, tucked into this miso recipe.

Then I come to reality and remember that, having just gotten back from Brazil, I was cold today in seventy degree weather. Probably the icy Atlantic off the coast of Maine at sunrise isn't the place for me. Thank goodness they're there to harvest, clean, dry, and ship!

Without more dilly dally, the official list of of items in today's share:
- dehydrated dulse from Ironbound Island
- dried wheatberries from Wild Hive Farm
- the end of the 2009 potato crop from the root cellar, Huguenot Street Farm.
- frozen carrot pulp, Huguenot Street Farm
- frozen peaches, Glorie Farm
- frozen blueberries, mulberries, or concord grapes. The blues and grapes were from Glorie Farm, and the mulberries grew wild on the not-so-wild streets of Beacon.
- frozen green beans, zucchini, kale, or choi, all from Huguenot Street Farm.

If you adore salt, this beautiful purple dulse makes a good snack straight up. Also tossed with a tiny bit of oil and oven baked for a few minutes (a la kale chips), since it turns into a crispy sea chip. Traditionally it's used in soups and chowders. It's incredibly high in protein and vitamins, so consider baking some and getting creative with where you use it: on sandwiches, crumbled over popcorn or salads or grains.

Some of you have been baking bread with your whole wheat (ground, of course), which is great news. I haven't gotten around to baking bread lately, but feel free to invite me over for a slice of yours!

I realize this is a lot of potatoes in a short time, but there have been days warm enough to call for potato salad... Cut the sprouting bits of these and plant them, then eat the rest! There's nothing like digging up your own fresh potatoes.

And carrot pulp. You didn't think I could throw away ten+ gallons of carrot pulp, did you? This stuff is also great for baking, for sauces and dressings, or for yummy creations like carrot rice. Even after freezing much of it, some still went into the compost, where deer enjoyed a carrot-y snack before it ever had time to break down.

If you're craving fresh greens, the year's first "weeds" are available for fresh eating and you won't have to look far to find them. Watch for the ubiquitous garlic mustard and wild onions, both currently running rampant through my yard, and probably yours too.

Distribution - March 28, 2010

2010-03-27T06:01:00.002-04:00

A nice surprise for a couple of you who thought this was our last share of the season: we have one more month to go! I'm in the NE of Brazil, busy sunning, but I'm sure you're as hungry as you always are. Thanks to our fabulous volunteers for managing the table this week! If you're feeling friendly, you'll come to market earlier in the day rather than later, so they don't have stay until the bitter end, hint, hint, HINT.

Here's what'll be there waiting for you:
- More potatoes from Huguenot Street Farm (cuz you can't get enough!)
- More onions from Morgiewicz Farm
- Dried popcorn on the cob from Madura Farm
- Frozen carrot juice from Huguenot Street Farm
- Frozen tomato sauce from Huguenot Street Farm
- and, a jar of spicy beer mustard.

We weren't joking about the heat ^%#!ing up the root cellar. Potatoes this time, potatoes next time..... It would be too much of a shame to let any of this clean, local produce go, so grin and bear it. Did you already make colcannon? What about a nice italian potato salad? Shepherd's pie? Hash browns? A nice soup to combat rainy day chill?

The unexpected heat is also why you're planning meals around sprouting onions, and drinking gobs of carrot juice.

There are different jars of tomato, again, some chunky and some perfectly smooth. Grab whichever you prefer. The chunkies retained skin and seeds, and have eggplant and bell peppers added. Neither have spices, so you can use them as part of a recipe, or just spice them up as sauce. Local tomatoes in March are not a terrible thing.

The mustard seeds weren't grown locally, or anywhere near here, and I have to admit, the beer wasn't brewed here, and neither was the vinegar (much to my chagrin). But, as the season ends and we end our reliance on the root cellar, we'll have some items from local and small businesses who are doing good work. We start [really] close to home, with spicy mustard made by wintergreens. Stay tuned for next time with video and gorgeous pictures and tales of danger. None of this has anything to do with mustard, but with a food I'm proud to include in your next share. Exciting!

An exciting experiment in the meantime (invite the kids!) is to try out this popcorn. I hear rumors you can stick the cobs in a paper bag and pop them whole in the microwave. For those of us who pop corn the old fashioned way, rub the cobs together to release the kernels, and put them in a lidded pot with oil. Then put on all manner of salts and yeasts and peppers and other spices. I think that a decade ago my popcorn loving self would not imagine that I'd be rubbing local corn kernels off a cob before popping. It looks a little like inventing fire.

Enjoy the great spring weather, and I'll see you in April!

You know it's spring when...

2010-03-21T20:58:00.002-04:00

your cat comes home and barfs up chunks of garter snake in the kitchen. Happy spring!

Purple Chocolate Skaters

2010-03-21T09:21:00.002-04:00

Bakesalers, Chapter Three
Marsha Aliaga is an artist, vegan chef, educator, and roller skater extraordinaire. She's got her fingers in the pot of every good thing percolating in Beacon, so, even setting her yummy cookies aside, is clearly a good person to know. She brought us Elia Gurna and her lovely handmade cards, just the right thing for the Valentine holiday! (Elia has some skills on wheels, too.) You can see artwork by Marsha, Elia, Theresa, and other bakesalers here.
Chelsea and Catherine and their bright purple frosted hearts were what everyone wanted to see at the sale. Not only did their cookie artistry steal the show, but Chelsea and Cat womaned the sale during the rushiest hours with big smiles for everyone. Hats off to Chelsea of Cold Spring and Catherine of Brooklyn!
Hudson Valley Compassion supported the sale with chocolate cookies galore. Thanks to Shanti for her chocolate chocolate chip numbers, and Lauren for her chocolate chip cookies. You can help HVC's efforts to support sustainable farming and fight factory farming abuses: learn more here.
Lynn from Go-Go Pops loaned us the hot water thermos that allowed us to warm up the cold night with hot tea. Dana Devine O'Malley, whose Day of the Dead artwork is in the window of Zora Dora's, baked for the sale and donated a beautiful photograph: she also runs Cross St. Cupcakes Co. Carley of Ella's Bellas baked. You can try some of her creations at at Bank Square Coffeehouse). Franny, who volunteers at Mid-Hudson Animal Aid, made her very first vegan recipe for the sale, with ginger snaps in the prettiest little boxes. (I know one toddler who still cherishes the box her valentines cookies came in.)

A LOT of people brought food, helped out, and showed up to support the people of Haiti. There were a lot of generous people involved, and I am certainly failing to include everyone on this list. A profound thank you to every last one.

Berry News

2010-03-19T19:02:00.009-04:00

We're fans of C.S.A.s. They make sense for people who eat; they make sense for people who farm; they cut out corporate giants; travel on planes, boats, and in trucks; packaging; chemicals; and the $$ associated with all of these things.

If you haven't joined Common Ground yet for the upcoming season, you better hurry!

And now, Fishkill Farms is getting in on the action with a C.S.A. of their own, with veggies grown by Julia (you know her from the market) and fruit from the Morgenthaus. I'm tight with Julia (love ya!), but....

Me and the Morgenthaus have a spotty history, with good old Robert Morris M. having been the Manhattan D.A. during the years I lived in the city, and me being a street activist who often found my way into jail and criminal courts for exercising the First Amendment. There were many campaigns to get RMM to drop unsubstantiated and trumped up charges against activists. I might have some old postcards to him lying around here somewhere....

Away from the city, it has been Robert's grandson, Josh, who I've dealt with on the farm. I haven't brought up my political differences with his grandfather, and everything has gone smoothly.

It feels a little funny and it's kind of a big deal when I say this: You should join the Morgenthau's C.S.A. There's the fruit and veg one, which includes Julia's beautiful produce. Or, if you're doing Common Ground, there's a fruit only option. July alone makes it 100% worth it: 15 pounds of cherries, 8 pounds of black currants, 5 pounds of plums, 3 pounds of blueberries, and 10 pounds of yellow peaches.

I say to RMM, we're neighbors again, we're in a different setting, I can't hold your mistakes against your kids and grandkids, and we've got to make peace. Especially if there's fruit involved.

Root Cellar Quits, Outside Roots Blossom

2010-03-19T12:07:00.008-04:00

One week ago, people were planting poppy seeds on top of some of the remaining snow, and now it's sixty-four degrees, on its way to the seventies. Getting off the train from the city last night I smelled the river for the first time this year. This morning, when I was dragging broken branches from the storm to the curb for city pick up, the whole yard smelled like wild onions, and other smells I can't yet identify. Crocuses are blooming, daffodils and tulips are coming up, and many of these cracked branches have buds, not knowing yet that they're dying. And I was sweating.

I adore warm weather, so all of this is very nice. I love having all the doors flung open, and the cats are in bliss about it, too. But it is early. Three weeks ago we had no power, and carved little passageways for ourselves to move around in the canyons of ice and snow. Last week, flooding threatened to wash the market out. At least all the rain took all the snow with it. (Don't the streets and sidewalks seem so wide now?)

This typical-for-May weather is the end of root cellar storage, for sure, with everything either rotting or sprouting or both. I worry after the sunchokes in the garden, and whether they'll last three more weeks without sprouting. I'm juicing last carrots like a maniac, and relocating potatoes to the coolest, darkest spots I can find. And pulling up my sleeves so that my shoulders can get some sun.

Spring Forward - Distribution March 14, 2010

2010-03-14T21:02:00.014-04:00

The weather brought us another exciting distribution day! When we arrived at the sloop club this morning, the parking lot was littered with driftwood (drift logs, really), and there were a few inches of water filling the building. After an hour of so of mopping mud and having a fire going in the fireplace to dry things out, it was pretty functional as a market. But, the excitement wasn't over yet!

With all the melting snow and all the rain on top of it, the river is incredibly swollen, and only about three feet from the back of the sloop club building. High hide was at noon, and by that time, the parking lot was flooded again, with water lapping right at the door. It didn't flood inside again, but, boy, the weather is exciting lately, and keeping us on our toes (and in muck boots). We joked about being the first farmers market literally in the Hudson River.
You've obviously already got your goods, but here's the list for records sake, and in case you have questions. Today's distribution included:

pickled pumpkin from Huguenot Street Farm
apple granola, with the end of the apples from Liberty View Farm
frozen green beans, Huguenot Street Farm
frozen zucchini, Huguenot Street Farm
crazy mixed mushroom buffet, Madura Farm a.k.a. Mycomedicinals
mesclun mix from Madura Farm

These pumpkins lasted sooooo long and sooooo perfectly. We plucked them out of the field last October, and I couldn't tell the difference between these and those I used back then: nothing about them had changed or degraded or even gotten softer. Let me know what you think of them pickled!
Sorry to take it out on you, but I'm in the middle of my sweetener freak out, so, this granola doesn't have the usual dose of maple syrup added. What it does have is oats, flax seeds, coconut, sunflower seeds, the very last apples of the year, dates, and prunes. If you like sweet, eat it with fruit, or go ahead and squirt on some maple yourself. I won't be offended.

The mushrooms were gorgeous, and we were thrilled to be able to offer them. I asked for a couple varieties, and my friends at Madura did me up right. So right that I don't know what they all were. There were maitake, king oyster, enoki, shitake, white portabello, blue oyster, something I was calling a beech nut but was totally wrong (maybe they grow on beech nuts?), and some brown button mushroom that has an Italian sounding name starting with "p." No, not porcinis. You know me, I only had eyes for the maitake....but I wouldn't throw any of them out of a tofu scramble!
Finally, I hope this whole daylight savings blah blah doesn't throw you off. When I googled it to make sure it was really happening today, I found this happy version. Happy hoppy weather crazy spring!

Accordions, Trash, Artshows, and Scraps

2010-03-12T08:32:00.010-05:00

Bakesalers, Chapter Two!

Storms, power outages, no internet, oh my! We're behind in honoring those who made the Vegan Bake Sale for Haiti a success. Here are a handful of fantastic participants you should know about, thank, and support.
Lena DeLeo's artistry fit in with the variety of the Vegan Bake Sale for Haiti. She baked black bean flax brownies (wow!) and burned CDs of her band the Dandy Lions. If you didn't get a CD at the sale, have a listen here.
Joanne Boniello was moon gazing, and remembered the Chinese New Year, honored by her almond New Year cookies. She used to own a bakery in Peekskill, so has mad baking skillz (ha ha), but I'm even more taken by the bags she donated made out of reused materials. My dog chow computer bag gets compliments every day! (Reducing waste is important to Joann, as evidenced by her article on how to make rainbarrels in the Peekskill Daily, and her blog, Saved From the Landfill.)

Artists Theresa Gooby and Erica Hauser managed to whip up "Hummus for Haiti" and famed cupcakes, respectively, even though their group show was opening at Beacon Artists Union down the block on the same evening. The opening had even more of packed crowd that night than the bake sale for Haiti, so that's saying something!
My super talented mom donated fabric bowls she makes from her quilting scraps. Not only do her quilts keep wintergreens workers warm all winter long, but now she's ventured out into new territory with these fabulous bowls. Another reused materials artist at the sale (and I'm not naming names) was quite taken with them, and made me explain three times how they're made. Look at this, now we're an arts matchmaking service....

Anyway, the point is that we're proud to have had so many talented people involved in the sale. The community action can warm your little heart on the coldest night of the year.

Tour de Prison

2010-03-11T19:35:00.003-05:00

The new google maps for bicycles has me riding through the prison to get to Main Street Beacon. Do you think the guards will honor my bike map?

Too Sweet

2010-03-08T09:49:00.008-05:00

Starting with a mention in E Magazine, I've gone down the trail of learning how agave nectar is bad for your health. I like agave as a sweetner. I like how similar it is to honey, how the agave plants are slow growing and without pesticides, harvested without fancy farming machinery, and I like how it ties me to home, to a plant that always grew in my yard.

But apparently it is just as bad for me as all other sugar. It's a bummer, I'd even pushed the idea of it and its low glycemic index on my pre-diabetic mom.
It shouldn't surprise me. Things (like fructose) that don't hurt you in their natural form (fruit) aren't so great once isolated, concentrated, and processed. But I want to believe. That's the trick—the stuff is so addictive that we all want to find the magic healthy sugar that will make our sweets obsession okay.

I'm trying to adjust my thinking. Can I get one bottle of the best agave nectar I can find and treat it the same way I do tequila? Buy the best I can afford and take a year or two to consume it, in tiny portions?

I don't know if I can shake this addiction just yet. Later this month I'm headed for Brazil, where I'll surely buy beautiful rapadura bricks wrapped in banana leaves, drink pure sugarcane juice fresh squeezed at the market, and visit our cousins and drink the cachaça they make. The cachaça is, of course, also made from sugarcane.

I'll consider this whole sugar-is-bad-for-you-in-all-forms thing. In the meantime, shoot me up.

Redux: Distribution - February 28, 2010

2010-03-07T11:13:00.011-05:00

We've just gotten the internet back after the big storm! I hope that all of you have power and water restored, and didn't lose all your beautiful trees. The storm was interesting in a lot of ways, testing how everyone would fare if the services we take for granted slowed or ceased. We were lucky to have our wood burning stove to keep us warm, and to cook biscuits on. It did make me realize we need to bust a move on our rainwater collection system.

I did get to try out some natural cooling methods I'd been thinking about not so long ago. wintergreens did not lose any produce during the four days without power—burying coolers in snowbanks kept everything intact! We were actually appreciative of our deep and tall snowbanks since we had lost produce in summer power outages.

Back to business as usual: Some of you have contacted us to ask, "What are those white things in the jar?" Here's what your last distribution contained:
- Dried red beans from Cayuga Pure Organics
- Dried white whole wheat berries from Wild Hive Farm a.k.a little white things in the jar
- Canned applesauce, made with apples from Liberty View Farm (no sugar added!)
- Root cellared potatoes from Huguenot Street Farm
- Root cellared red onions from Morgiewicz Farm
- Frozen sweet peppers from Huguenot Street Farm
- Frozen peaches from Glorie Farms
- Fresh sprouted black French lentils
- Some of you randomly scored raspberries, red currants, or concord grapes, for a sweet kick

Wheat berries can be cooked and eaten in place of grains you regularly use, but use twice the water and cook for a full hour. They can also be sprouted, or ground and included in recipes. When things are made with "whole wheat," this is what they're talking about.

Storm Rations: Distribution - February 28, 2010

2010-02-27T16:18:00.010-05:00

Hi snowed-in members, if you're mobile and hungry, we've got food. The market will be closed tomorrow, so give us a call. This week's distribution will be like an underground club, with the location only released to those hip enough. If you're not mobile, call anyway, and maybe your share can come to you.

I Don't Like Daiya Cheese

2010-02-25T16:15:00.014-05:00

There, I said it.

This blog does not exist for product reviews, so I'll try not to get stuck. But all the raving about Daiya was getting to me.

Daiya. It's another imitation cheese product (this time, made from tapioca) meant for use in pizzerias and vegan seven layer chip dip. It's great that it's a bit better for you than some soy or rice or chemical cheeses. People are thrilled that it stretches when melted, as if that's what real eating is all about. The excitement is a little weird to me. And I say that because Daiya still tastes funny, a little off, a little like it's trying to be something that it's not. It's junk food. Let's call it what it is.

But while we're in this off-topic product review-y space, let me mention that I had my most favorite "comfort food" meal at Rice (in the city) last night, the same meal I've been eating there for at least fifteen years: veggie balls with spicy sauce on sticky rice, mesclun salad with palm hearts and poblano avocado dressing, all washed down with a nice Malbec. After all these years, it still really hits the spot.

And, and, on the advice of friends we tried a newish authentic Mexican restaurant on Route 9, Tacocina. The menu is filled with items like tongue and head, but they love to whip up potato, mushroom, poblano entrees for vegans. The food is good! The telenovelas are loud! If you miss authentic Mexican, give it a whirl.

Winning the Lottery

2010-02-23T22:39:00.007-05:00

One reason wintergreens exists is because of the food freak out I've had every winter until recently: missing fresh vegetables, and resenting the expensive, wilted, imported stuff at groceries and health food stores while having to rely on it. As much as fermenting, canning, dehydrating, freezing, sprouting, and finding four season farmers has helped, winter still doesn't have the lush feel of summer, when you can walk through the garden in your bare feet putting delicious food in your mouth directly from the plants. when every craving is satisfied and there's no need to go without. I'm looking forward to spring's first plants: rhubarb and wild onions, and digging up sunchokes. That, along with tending seedlings for my garden, will entertain for a while.

And then, there's that beautiful day in June when we'll go to our first C.S.A. distribution, and find a huge table loaded down with a bunch of different kinds of greens. Hallelujah!

Since moving to the Hudson Valley more than six years ago, we've belonged to the same C.S.A.: Huguenot Street Farm, in New Paltz. It a bit far to drive every week, and slightly less local than, say, Common Ground. But we've been committed to Huguenot Street, since it's served us very, very well.

Our first spring in Beacon, when shopping around for a C.S.A., we contacted Common Ground first, since it is closest to home. The combination of an inexperienced farmer, tales of groundhog killing sprees, and the use of manure from the area prisons made us decide against membership (and a job there). I dunno, I think there's some really bad karma coming down the line from animal prisoners being "farmed" by human prisoners. Things have gotten waaaaaaay better at Common Ground over the years (Love ya, Tim! Kudos, Creek!).

The next farm we called was Phillies Bridge. The farm was biodynamic at the time, and seemed appealing, except that BD always includes animals. There had recently been an uproar about changes on the farm, as it got further and further from vegetarian. The farmer and I had a long, philosophical discussion over the phone about animals on small farms and biodynamic practices, and couldn't agree, in the end, on what food is better for the body and soul: food that includes animals in its cycles, or food grown without any reliance on animal slaughter. (No, the animals don't hang around until old age on BD farms. It's a better setting for them while they're alive, certainly, but it's still about productivity.) At the end of the conversation, he sighed and gave me the number for his friends, Kate and Ron, who grow veganically at Huguenot Street Farm. That is, without the use of any animal products as fertilizer, the most common of which are manure and bonemeal.

That particular farmer has moved on to Hawthorne Valley, the big BD farm in Ghent, where all those live products you're seeing in health food stores come from. Phillies Bridge is no longer biodynamic, but is trying to grow organically, a challenge only because of the [pesticide spraying] apple orchards that abut their fields. They now have educational programs for kids and adults there—it's where I learned about fermentation and built my first earth oven and rocket stove. Still, they have animals that they send to slaughter. As much as I enjoyed hearing curious chickens circle my tent while I was falling asleep there, I knew those chickens would only be alive as long as they had a good laying rate.
Local Harvest just wrote about how to best choose a C.S.A. They cover topics like flexibility in payment plans, whether the C.S.A. washes their produce or not and whether or not they pack boxes for members, or if the members have some choices of what to take or not take. They don't have on their checklists whether there are animals at the farm or not, or whether manure is used on the vegetables. My belief in the rights of animals, as well as health concerns about veggies like spinach being infected with e coli through the use of manure, make a veganic approach to farming my preferred choice.

We were thrilled to have found Huguenot Street Farm, and that first season provided the best food we'd ever eaten. Each year we've continued to believe this is the best option for us. That's why it knocked me over to learn that we wouldn't get to be members this season.

Here's what happened: Ron has always been involved in national and international farming policy. He started the peer-run Certified Naturally Grown program as an alternative to [expensive] organic certification, and traveled regularly hosted by the U.N. Both Ron and Kate are kind of crazy geniuses, obsessed with keeping alive heirloom species, improving weeding methods and storage methods—improving every aspect of small scale vegetable farming.A few years ago they invented the CoolBot, a gizmo that enables you to build your own walk-in refrigerator with a regular window air conditioner. (The wintergreens household spent a whole month wiring Coolbots in exchange for a portion of our yearly share.) I don't know of any small farms in the Hudson Valley that don't use this technology, since it literally saves thousands of dollars. Our C.S.A. newsletters are filled with facts about cooling your vegetables, things like, "If your napa cabbage spends an hour in a warm car before being cooled again, its longevity has been cut in half." The kind of obsession that brought the CoolBot into being, as well as the solar tractor design Ron's been talking about for a couple of years, has gotten noticed.

"My" farmers are heading a Gates Foundation project strategizing more efficient post-harvest care in India, Honduras, Thailand, and weirdly, California. Ron [who is Indian] says:

The idea is to help places like India where there is still malnutrition while 40% of fresh produce rots and is discarded before it can get to market.

Clearly "my" farmers are going to be busy this year. As a result, they are cutting down C.S.A. membership to a third the size of last year. To cut some of us out fairly, they used a lottery system. For a minute it seemed like we hadn't made it, and there were 24 hours of panic and internet research (Did you know there are only seven veganic farms in the country?) and then we found out that we HAD made it.

If I thought I appreciated that table piled with greens in June for the past six years, I'm going to REALLY appreciate it this year.

The cuties pictured at the top of this post are Potsie and Radar, some kids we rescued while living in Brooklyn.

The Cooks, the Singer, the Potter and her Students

2010-02-22T19:48:00.015-05:00

Or Bakesalers, Chapter One.
First, we could not have had the Vegan Bake Sale for Haiti without a venue, and Steve Astorino provided his beautiful store, Zora Dora. Steve makes delicious paletas—if you haven't tried them yet, your summers have been incomplete. Because of the space, we were able to have hot tea, tables and chairs, be on Main Street, have music and mood lighting. It wouldn't have been the same without you, Steve, even if you were sunning in Central America at the time!
Lagusta Yearwood, chef, rabble rouser, and chocolatier, donated her exquisite truffles and bonbons. People especially went crazy over her "Vandana Shivas" and "Furious Vulvas," the latter being a salted chocolate that's my personal favorite. Adding Lagusta's food artistry to the mix bumped our classiness up a notch, no doubt.
My favorite country singer, Rachel Lee Walsh, baked five dozen chocolate chocolate chip walnut cookies, and than ran all over Brooklyn and Manhattan trying to get them to me. When I apologized for the hassle, she said "walking a handful of blocks when I'm tired is nothing when I think about what people in Haiti are going through." Bless your kind heart, your baking skills, and your velvet voice.
You may know Virginia Piazza Pottery from the Beacon Farmer's Market, area craft fairs, or because she's taught you how to throw on a wheel. Many, many thanks go out to Virginia and her students for donating many beautiful cups, bowls, and platters to the bake sale.

Mistakes #364 and #365

2010-02-20T09:45:00.009-05:00

Different kinds of produce have different winter storage requirements: potatoes can't be exposed to light because their skins get poisonous, onions and garlic must be in a dry environment to keep from rotting, some roots do better if rested on a bed of soil or sand. I'm guessing they're more at peace because this setup feels like home to them.

Squashes and pumpkins require a dry cool place (being Mesoamerican fruits), and ideally, some kind of pillow between them and the hard surface they are resting on. When my dry "cool" location threatened to freeze, squashes and pumpkins were moved. Pumpkins went inside, squashes went to the very moist root cellar.

Do not do this: do not forget your "dry cool" storage items in your "wet cool" space for three weeks, and expect them to be fine.

The pumpkins, indoors, are perfect. The squashes, not so much.

The other mistake wasn't ours.

Before the Vegan Bake Sale for Haiti happened, we notified every news outlet in the Hudson Valley (practically). The Beacon Free Press didn't list the event in advance (boo on you!), but showed up at the event to take a picture and ask questions. Well okay, they get some credit: better late than never, right?

Nope, this fab event didn't make the paper this week. That's because there was too much other important news, like a clown at the coffee shop (no kidding, the headline story!). It doesn't really matter, since the reason we'd contacted them was to get more people to the sale and raise more money for Haiti. But it does make you wonder.

Raising Funds & Awareness

2010-02-15T22:13:00.007-05:00

I declare the Hudson Valley Vegan Bake Sale for Haiti a success! We raised $552 for Food for Life Global and Sodopreca, got a whole bunch of enthusiastic non-vegan people to create and donate animal-free food and artwork, and had a great time as well. It was a cold night, so we're especially happy that you all turned out to stuff your dollars in donation jars.

THANK YOU!
A lot of people asked, so I wanted to explain more about what Food for Life does. They are a disaster relief organization—what they are doing in Haiti is what they are pros at doing around the world when and where needed. They serve vegetarian meals, and so can serve about 3 hot meals for one dollar. That means our donation is making an impact.
More later on some of the creative people who made the fundraiser possible, and a success.

Distribution - February 14, 2010

2010-02-14T18:01:00.009-05:00

Distribution number seven is like a Wednesday afternoon, our season's hump day. It means that we're more than halfway through winter C.S.A. season. Who knows where the time goes?

We've still got plenty of good stuff in our stores. And, because it's the day of love (as if we shouldn't focus on our hearts every day!), we've got heart healthy food, bright bleeding pink food, and food shaped like an anatomical heart. Here's what the love share brings:

- frozen tomato* sauce, Huguenot Street Farm
- frozen blueberries, Fishkill Farms
- root cellared garlic, Huguenot Street Farm
- dehydrated apple rings, Fishkill Farms
- pickled beets, Huguenot Street Farm
- hoophouse cilantro or parsley, Madura Farm
- hoophouse celeriac, Madura Farm

*Again, these tomatoes were sprayed with copper to survive late blight, and you can skip them if you choose. Sadly, I can't remember the exact numbers, but they were sprayed with something like 1/15th the amount allowable under organic standards. That's good to know when it comes to soil health. When it comes to your health, you'll want to know that they were triple washed before cooking. I'm skeptical of the copper spray, but am trusting my beloved farmers who know far, far more than I ever will about soil, and fungicides. Still, I worry. I intended to skip tomatoes entirely last summer after late blight hit, but couldn't walk away from these when presented with their alluring smell. Be warned, if we have the same disease problems in the growing season of 2010, wintergreens may have a tomato-less 2010-2011 season.

That said, right now we've got sauce! Some jars are perfectly smooth and without skin and seeds, and others are chunky with a bit of bell pepper and eggplant thrown in. Both were made without salt or herbs (that's up to you), and both have a bit of virgin olive oil. If you're passionate about smooth v. chunky, come early. Happy lycopene day!

Ah, the blueberry. These roly-polys come up over and over on all the superfood lists. For me, they're love-ly because blueberry bushes are perennials, of which I am a fan. No work and delicious—what's not to like? Also, because there's nothing as excellent as coming upon a patch of wild blueberry bushes when hiking. Or blackberry. Or rasberry. But I digress... Last but not least, I totally heart foods that make your tongue look like a chow chow's, and I think all our toddler members will agree!

Garlic. Love it. Need it.

Dehydrated apple rings: another excellent short person snack. These hula hoops for your tongue are incredibly sweet and satisfying, making me wonder why I ever bothered to get addicted to chocolate. Use these to get the next generation wanting healthy snacks.

We're going in for a second round of pickled beets. They're a productive plant, they're great for you, the color is appropriate for the holiday, hearty-y and bloody and pink. And, the real reason: we had an indoor picnic during one of the snowstorms that included wine, crusty bread, nice green olive oil, cashew cheese, and pickled beets. The beets were the star of the meal, and when the jar was done, I wanted more. That must mean you want more, mustn't it?

Celeriac is celery grown for the root instead of the stalks. It's great because it stores well, and works in situations where celery flavor is desirable, but strings are not. If you're a celery string hater, you might also want to try cutting celery, which is essentially an herb.

Parsley is one of those hearty herbs that will stick out the snow under a drape of plastic or a cloche, and has thankfully graduated from its days as a garnish. I had some yesterday juiced, with celery, and I'm still on the top of the world from it.

All herbs are great for you in, like, a bazillion ways, and fresh cilantro is no exception. You either love it or you think it tastes like soap. If you fall in the second category, gift it to someone in the first who you want to adore you. I always remember gushing over a restaurant server who had a leaf of cilantro stuck to her cheek—I thought I could love her forever. Herbs, they're that powerful.

Happy hump day.

Keeping Warm

2010-02-11T06:11:00.007-05:00

When the world is glowing pale blue, like it was this morning just before dusk, and the sun rises to a snowy scene of greytones, it's not unusual to be dreaming of ways to introduce warmth.

I keep my coffee cup on the wood burning stove while I'm getting ready for work, to keep my hot drink HOT. The rest of the house is cold, but moments of holding that hot mug, and sipping hot liquid make a big difference. I, and the cats I live with, feel warmer when the stove is glowing orange. If the flames are hidden behind a log, or if the glass panes get covered in soot, we don't feel as warm as we would, even if the stove were emanating the same amount of heat. Psychological, maybe, but real nonetheless.

When it comes to food, there's actual heat (think of hot chocolate or stew), there's vibrant color to both warm us and to ward off scurvy, and then there's spice. Ginger, garlic, and black pepper come to mind immediately, and, if you're anything like me, chilies and paprikas follow closely behind. I also rely heavily on spicy condiments: Indian pickles, chutneys, spiced pumpkin butter. Two that warm your body up right quick (or burn out your nose hairs) and are easy to make are spicy beer mustard, and hot pink horseradish.

Spicy Beer Mustard, which I got from bread & honey, who found the recipe in an old issue of Martha Stewart Living

Ingredients:
1/2 c brown mustard seeds
1/4 c yellow mustard seeds
1 c dark beer
1 1/4 c white-wine vinegar
1 c mustard powder, combined with 1 c water (let sit 20 minutes)
2 T sugar
2 t salt
1 t ground allspice
1/4 t ground turmeric
1/4 t ground mace

Directions:
In a nonreactive container, combine mustard seeds with beer and vinegar. Let sit at least 48 hours. Check periodically to make sure seeds are covered by liquid; add more if necessary.

Transfer seeds and liquid to a blender or food processor. Add remaining ingredients. Process 4 to 6 minutes. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for at least 1 week before to let the flavors develop. The mustard will keep for a month or more. Judging from the the market tasters, people are gaga for good spicy mustard.

Hot Pink Horseradish
Wash and peel horseradish root as you would a potato and dice it into small cubes. Place the cubes in the blender jar. Add a small amount of cold water and crushed ice. Start with enough cold water to completely cover the blades of the blender. Add several crushed ice cubes. Put the cover on the blender before turning the blender on. If necessary, add more water or crushed ice to complete the grinding. When the mixture reaches the desired consistency, add white vinegar. Use 2 to 3 tablespoons of white vinegar and 1/2 teaspoon of salt for each cup of grated horseradish.

The time at which you add the vinegar is important. Vinegar stops the enzymatic action in the ground product and stabilizes the degree of hotness. If you prefer horseradish that is not too hot, add the vinegar immediately. If you like it as hot as can be, wait three minutes before adding the vinegar.

For the gorgeous pink version, simply throw in a chunk of beetroot when blending.

From Global Gourmet.

Mustard photo from bread & honey. Horseradish picture from some eco garden cooking dude blogger who I can't find again. If you recognize it, let us know the source!

Bottle Trees

2010-02-10T13:15:00.007-05:00

Here's a tree you can "grow" outdoors in deep winter, and one that conveniently traps bad spirits.

VD Present Perfect

2010-02-05T13:45:00.014-05:00

I just got a sweet valentine in the mail from my sis'. She must've noticed the wintergreens kitchen towel craze, or be tuned into my brain vibrations from across the country, because she sent me a hand printed tea towel from The Heated (a lesbi-printi-furnituremaki-musician, apparently) featuring one of my favorite animals, the ratbird. Al, how'd you know it's what I've always wanted?

This leads me to wonder, what are the ideal ways I can think of to show love this VD?

There's always gifting: burning the hell out of someone you love's mouth with the Vegan de Guadalupe Cookzine; getting the garden started with a set of artpacks from Hudson Valley Seed Library.Or you could go deeper, my friends, much deeper. You can buy revolutionary versions of good ol' valentine standbys at the Vegan Bake Sale for Haiti. Better yet, bring your sweetie to the sale, and fill a box with their favorites.

No sweetie? No problem. Bring your dog, your neighbor, or someone you just picked up in a dimly lit bar and come hang with us. Let your pocket change help people who really need it. Now that's showing the love.

Ice Cracker

2010-02-03T18:15:00.012-05:00

At the market the other day, someone walked out onto the ice on the river, with a kid trailing behind. It was a controversial move—just hearing about it made me unable to breathe.

The week before, someone had seen a fox way out on the river ice, in the middle of the day. What was that fox doing? Fishing? looking for birds? for fresh water?

The ice on the Hudson River holds my attention and imagination every winter. I think of my grandma ice fishing in a little shack in Minnesota; of the woman I met in Hudson (the town) running across the icy Hudson (the river) every morning to the factory where she worked, scared of the cracking and groaning, but crossing nonetheless; of the scene in The Shipping News when the house is dragged across the sea-ice from an island to the mainland of Newfoundland's coast, and cabled there to keep from blowing away; of stories of my dad delivering ice, huge cubes, lifted with big, sharp tongs. And current events, too: the Newburgh-Beacon Ferry being unable to cross the river; bald eagle and seal sightings; dogs and men falling through the ice and drowning in Central Park.At a dinner party a few nights ago people were talking about harvesting river ice, and keeping it in sawdust to use in iceboxes the following summer. Indeed, harvesting river ice used to be a major industry in the Hudson Valley. I don't know about the big tongs, or the conveyor belts of huge cubes, but we could notice this ice, this snow, and use this natural resource locally, on a small scale.

I did live in a New J. apartment for a winter with no refrigerator, and hung my food out the second story windows in bags to keep cold. That, and floating a six pack in a stream, are the closest I've come to using winter for cold storage, but I'm thinking on it. The wintergreens root cellar half counts, since it's moderated at an above-freezing temperature.*Photos courtesy of Boat Nerd, China Daily, and Tessa Lau.

Summer is Coming!

2010-02-02T18:40:00.008-05:00

I keep telling myself this, like a mantra. It's better than pouting, right, and I do really feel those extra couple of minutes of light per day!

So I'm thinking ahead to things I want to do and experience this summer. Two things on my mind are homemade vinegar, and edible flowers. So what better than a recipe for nasturtium vinegar?

I haven't walked around eating flowers very much at all, but isn't it appealing? Though my first instinct involves fermentation (I can't help it!), I suspect I'll be trying them as ingredients and on their own, too. Hurry up sun!

Tiny Fish in a Growing School

2010-01-31T12:58:00.004-05:00

wintergreens is a tiny C.S.A., and sometimes we feel like we can't possibly be making a dent because we're so small. But then I read things like these statistics from Local Harvest, which say that the median number of members that CSAs in the U.S. have is forty seven. Ok, then, we're not all that small!

They also point out that 25% of all CSA members belong to CSAs of 100 members or less. The many, many tiny CSAs all combined ARE having an impact.

Vida longa ao organizações minúsculo!

*Photo from SouleMama.

Wild Food & Wild People in San Fran

2010-01-29T14:03:00.004-05:00

My little heart is warmed by the great outpouring of people working on the Vegan Bake Sale for Haiti. And still, just for a moment, I'm wishing I were in San Francisco.

That's because of the San Francisco Underground Farmer's Market, where food gatherers and producers who aren't certified and who don't work in commercial kitchens can offer their wares for a suggested donation. I'd love to cut out all the extra costs and let people pay what they think an item is worth!

The underground market was brainchild of Iso Rabins, a wild forager, and the founder of ForageSF, who run a "CSF" or Community Supported Foraging. Wouldn't you love to get a wild distribution as beautiful as the box pictured?

No animals harmed in the making of this relief effort.

2010-01-28T21:16:00.011-05:00

Attention wintergreens members, Hudson Valley Compassion groupies, arm wrestlers, roller derbyists, farmers, activists, quilters, queers, country singers, chefs, hairstylists, veterinarians, cyclists, bloggers, and craft queens:

We're putting together a fundraiser for 2 groups doing good disaster relief work* in Haiti in the aftermath of the earthquake. We need your help:
1 - getting the word out
2 - baking, cooking, or making small artworks for the sale
3 - working the event
4 - coming and buying stuff

In solidarity with other Vegan Bake Sales for Haiti, ours, too, is a Vegan Bake Sale. But my pickles are better than my cookies, so we'll be deviating a bit and also catering to customers who yen for salt, salsa, or spring rolls. And there's one more way our bake sale is a little unusual. Since it'll be taking place during Beacon's Second Saturday artwalk, it made sense to ask all our artist and crafty friends to donate small works, which will be made available at the sale. (Nothing priced over $20, please, and please, no animal products. The point is to help some without hurting others.)

Yes, a quilted bowl makes sense.
Yes, a CD of your music is great.
Yes, your homemade granola is superb.

Do whatever you do best! To make donations, leave a comment here about what you're bringing, and drop it off between 5 and 6 on the day of the sale. Or, contact wintergreenscsa@gmail.com.

The "Vegan Bake Sale for Haiti: Sweets, Savories, and Still-lifes" will take place Saturday, Feb. 13th at 6 pm, Zora Dora's Paleta Shop, 201 Main Street, Beacon, NY.

All proceeds go to relief workers, Food for Life, and animal rescue group, Sodopreca, both on the ground in Haiti.

Thanks in advance for your participation!

*After witnessing a rich and large "relief organization" giving out New Testaments to Katrina survivors before drinking water was available, we're serious about researching the right groups to support.

Sprout Care and Maintenance

2010-01-25T11:53:00.006-05:00

Your sprouts have been soaked for a day and sprouted for three days. You can use them as they are, or you can use some, and continue letting the remaining sprouts grow.

To do this, rinse them in a fine strainer, make sure they are well drained, and put them in a jar or shallow tray. You can choose to keep them in a dark place, where they'll continue to expand like a chia pet for a couple of days. Or, you can put them in a bright windowsill and watch them get little green bits to add chlorophyll to your next meal. Either way, give them a rinse and thorough draining once or twice a day.

If you don't have time, keep them in a closed package in the fridge, not too wet (no standing water), and not open to dry out. They should last several days to a week.

If they do dry up, finish up the job in a dehydrator or the sun, and grind them into a fine flour. This healthful flour can be added to breads, or even hidden in smoothies or sauces.

Distribution - January 24, 2010

2010-01-23T21:09:00.016-05:00

Happy frozen river! Happy hard frost! Happy celebration when 40 degrees come and rains fall and melt the snow! Happy scarves and mittens and seeing your breath! Happy mid-winter!

Our mid winter distribution holds:

Frozen dark leafy greens: curly green kale, curly purple kale, vitamin greens, and chard, to be exact. Huguenot Street Farm.
Frozen zucchini, also from Huguenot Street Farm.
Sundried tomatoes, Four Winds Farm.
Pickled ume radishes, Huguenot Street Farm.
Pickled watermelon rind and pickled tomatillo salsa, with ingredients from all of our farmers, and then some!
Sprouts! Crimson clover, fenugreek, radish, alfalfa, mung bean, and pea from wintergreens' windowsills.
A peck of potatoes from Huguenot Street Farm. (Ok, not really a whole peck, but a bundle.)

Greens can be defrosted in the fridge before cooking, or just cooked frozen. I don't add water, just flip and scrape what has melted (on medium heat), flip and scrape, until it's all warm. The zucchini moons are great to throw in to stir fries just as they are.

The tomatoes are Amish paste tomatoes, and are actually oven dried, which is a process I didn't love. Next summer, invite the sun back to town so that we can solar dehydrate! Anyway, because of this summer's late blight problem, these tomatoes were sprayed with copper, which is acceptable by organic standards. They were also quadruple washed. It is up to you whether you want to take tomatoes this time or not. We had a hard time when trying to decide whether to include tomatoes this season, and ultimately, ended up including some, but not as many as we'd hoped. Here's an argument to not spray at all. You can judge for yourself, and eat these tomatoes, or not.

The radishes are daikon and cherry belles, in plum vinegar. They're sweet and crisp and pink, great as one of those palate cleansing type pickles, nice to have a few on the side of your plate with meals.

The salsa is kind of cross between salsa and relish, with a base of fermented tomatillo, garlic, onion, cilantro, jalapeño, daikon radish, maple syrup, and roasted green chile, with chunks of fermented watermelon rind. These ingredients came from Morgiewicz Farm, Huguenot Street Farm, Three Chicks Sugar Shack, and a side of the road farm stand somewhere between Beacon and New Paltz. It also has some ingredients from far, far away: lime, avocado, cumin, black pepper, sea salt, and a dash of balsamic vinegar.

Put sprouts (and potatoes, too) in everything you eat: on salads, in soups on sandwiches, as a crunchy bed for entrees. These little guys are powerhouses of nutrition, so just eat 'em!

See you in the morning!

Prickly Pear Sorbet

2010-01-21T05:55:00.004-05:00

I'm minding my own business, keeping my head down, working, thinking I'm finally going to shut up about desert foods, and I run into prickly pear sorbet in Grand Central during my commute. Disruptive!

You can speak French and make this granita/sorbet/ice in fancy machines, give it a kick with lime or tequila, or make it with just a campfire, coffee filter, and a freezer. Done!

Taste of Home

2010-01-18T20:59:00.039-05:00

I've been trying to set up this book recommendation thingie, which isn't working because I'm having trouble with the blog settings tool. I tell you this because I keep thinking of interesting books to include. Today it's Foods of the Americas. Like many books I recommend, it's not vegan or vegetarian, but acts as a starting point, ideas for flavor combinations, and different uses for foods you thought you knew how to use. Most cookbooks I'm interested in have something besides recipes to offer, and that is the case here.

I was happy to look through this book which I hadn't cracked in the past year, to think about ways to use ingredients like espazote and masa and annato and hominy that taste like home to me, and new ones, like cattail flour. Because this book is about native recipes, and native people, I'm forced to think about MY HOME, Arizona, not really being mine, and that thinking is interesting combined with very familiar smelling and tasting food. Yes, I can smell and taste just by reading. So there. There is overlap, and influence both ways. Some reviewers of this book have complained that the recipes have been altered to be "too white," which I think in this case meant able to be understood and used by the average non-native reader. Indeed, the Smithsonian was involved in the project . . . it's bound to be a little more sociological and a little less "authentic." And the Americas are kind of large get a taste of. What makes Vegan with a Vengeance, for example, such a great cookbook is not the recipes, but the context, and that is true here, though here it's many contexts. (I know, I used a wildly different book as an example, but you can think of Isa's cat Fizzle giving you Brooklyn junk store tool tips, and understand what I mean. It gives you something to think about, and play with.)

I used to go tamale hunting around Christmas in front of Safeway stores. Women would make huge batches and sell them out of shopping carts in grocery parking lots before the holiday. The trick for me was chatting up enough ladies to find one who was traditional enough to be making shopping carts full of tamales at Christmas, but nouveau enough to do it without lard, or manteca.
This year, I didn't need to hang out in parking lots, because Tucson Tamale has opened, uses only vegetable oil, and were selling tamales (and very good salsa) at the farmer's market. It's like living in a gentrified neighborhood: you're glad for easy access to good coffee, but you worry after all the old neighborhood characters who begin to disappear. Where will everybody go? Tucson Tamale took me one step further away from a familiar culture. Foods of the Americas takes me the other way, one step closer.

It's frightening to think that the shopping cart tamale women might only ever appear on book pages from now on.

While we're on the topic of "this land is not my land," see two interesting tidbits:
1) The work of No More Deaths, activists who leave water out in the desert for border crossers who find themselves in dangerous situations. It was heartening to find signs supporting them in front of many houses and businesses in Tucson this winter.
2) The closing of Arizona's state parks.

*Lostmissing, in picture two, is a project of my dear friend, mattilda, for all the things and animals and people who go missing.

Summer in Snow

2010-01-17T16:00:00.011-05:00

Today's predicted "late afternoon rain" is turning out to be thick, wet, snowfall. Some days you have to pretend: sweat it out in the steam room at the gym imagining you're in the tropics, or wear too few clothes while sitting close to the wood stove and eating summery foods. Let's think warm thoughts, shall we?

Here are some warm places I go back to in my head: making friends with a sweet dog in Buenos Aires, Argentina; driving to a faraway beach outside Recife, Brazil; checking out purple prickly pear cacti while wandering around San Xavier Mission outside Tucson, Arizona. All this mind travel is helped by eating one of my favorite summer foods, summer rolls.

Summer Rolls with Spicy Peanut Sauce

There's not really a real recipe for the rolls, but I'll tell you my favorite things to wrap up in rice wrappers:

rice sticks - Make sure not to get bean thread, cuz it's a bit slimy. The rice sticks give the roll good texture.
matchstick carrots
matchstick red pepper
matchstick cucumbers
matchstick scallions
fresh mint leaves
shaved fresh ginger
crunchy lettuce leaves

Cook the rice sticks according to the instrucs on the package (not very long). Drain. Don't worry about making extra—you can always eat them on top of salad with sesame dressing. Ditto for any extra chopped veggies.

Heat up a large frying pan of water, then turn off the fire. Soak a wrapper in the warm water until pliable (also not very long). Drain. On a cutting board or clean surface, put in some of each herb and veggie and a little portion of rice stick & roll up like a burrito. I like to put the colorful stuff on the outside, to show through the skin. I put a couple colorful pieces down first, then a lettuce leaf which will cradle and contain the rest of the ingredients, making it easier to roll. Your first few will look wonky, but you'll get the hang of it! Pretty soon you'll be dazzling your friends at parties, preferably parties on a beach or near a campfire.

There are zillions of variations on these rolls. I particularly like the scallion/ginger/mint interaction, but if you've got cilantro, go with that, get rid of the mint and ginger, pump up the scallion and red pepper, and include avocado or a little bit of spicy guacamole. A lot of people put in baked tofu or replace the lettuce with spinach. You get the drill: take what you've got and put in a rice wrapper!

Here's the sauce, which there is a recipe for:

1/4 c soy sauce
1/8 c brown rice vinegar
1/3 c warm water
1 Tbsp maple syrup
1/2 tsp sea salt
1 inch piece fresh ginger, minced
2/3 c chunky peanut butter
2 Tbsp toasted sesame seed oil
1/2 tsp paprika
1-2 teaspoons hot pepper sauce, or more to taste

Use the warm water to soften and blend the peanut butter. Once blended add other ingredients. Best at room temperature.

Beans, beans, they're good for your heart....

2010-01-16T21:28:00.008-05:00

If you haven't devoured your beans from last distribution yet...

All the recipes I could think to post using them were pretty standard: borracho beans, beans on toast, the basics. But I remembered tasting New Paltz chef Lagusta's chili last year at a chili cook off. It had chocolate in it, and chilies, and fermented ramps, and really outdid any chili I've ever made. I asked her if she'd consider sharing the recipe (for your benefit and mine): read it here in all its glory. (Thanks for sharing it, Lagusta.) She recommends throwing in an old cup of coffee, which is a new one to me. Consider serving this fine chili with her homemade onion rings.

(Lagusta can be found at Lagusta's Luscious, Bluestocking BonBons, and her attitudinal and hilarious blog, Resistance is Fertile.)

Witches Brew

2010-01-13T21:49:00.005-05:00

So, my trick is working—you guys are eating and drinking delicious fermented food and getting interested in the health benefits, and how to make your own. Heh heh heh. Follow me, my pretties.

But then: I don't actually know anything special about fermentation.

What I DO know is this: it's really easy, and really flexible, and if you want to, you can ferment food, too.

Fermentation is a big part of why wintergreens began. I took a little how-to workshop and made my first jar of fermented mixed veggies less than two years ago. I immediately read Sandor Katz's Wild Fermentation, and became a little bit obsessed. This was the perfect "recipe" book for me. Regular cookbooks seem like they're telling me what to do, which is a sure way to get no good end result. The bible of fermentation instead tells stories of queers in the U.S. South, of fighting corporate culture, of gourmet food, of living with HIV, of diy ethic, and slips in encouragement and ideas about various fermentation experiments. Perfect for the stubborn. It lets you know you can relax, you're not going to cause anything bad to happen, only good: no poisonings, no illness, just food suited to your personal taste.

People at the market this weekend were asking me the hows and whys of kombucha's health benefits. Again: I don't know. I never took chemistry (preferring physics), and don't entirely understand what's at work in probiotic foods. I figure that there are other people to take care of this part, to test and prove and explain. To me it's a magic little witches brew. My role is making great tasting ferments available in Beacon, and convincing you to try making them yourself.

Without any knowledge of chemistry, I know this food and this drink settle my stomach. They stimulate the sour and tart parts of my palate. They give me a little power zing, like a big dose of vitamin C or a shot of wheat grass. They put me in touch with foods my ancestors ate, and what people in other parts of the world eat. I always have a jar of something unusual to offer when I go to get-togethers. The colors please me, and make my meals more varied and nicer to look at. And I'm able to keep food from the summer crunchy and tasty and fresh for winter, when cold and dark threaten to make me lay down on the floor.

I crunched my way through some fermented okra this morning hours before the sun was up, and even though it was nine degrees or some ridiculous number, I relived summer just a little bit. I was thinking this and smiling: okra flowers are so delicate and pretty, and the pods themselves so phallic and silly, like an over-excited dog. I pictured where I was when I picked that okra, the big leaves of the plant, and remembered how the sun felt on my shoulders.

If you like other people preparing your food, that's cool. But if you like to experiment yourself (or are trying to get yourself off the floor), let's get started! Begin with sauerkraut or mixed veggies, or something that excites you, like good kimchi. Chop up your produce, salt it, squeeze it with your hands to get its juices flowing, and put something heavy on top of it so that it doesn't float. Check back in a day to be sure the brine (salty liquid), is covering all of the food. If not, add some salt water (1 to 5 ratio) until covered. Let this sit.* Taste it often, so you know exactly what's going on. Depending on how warm your kitchen is, you'll be tasting ripe delicious flavors in a matter of days.

Once you have your preferred fermentation times figured out, you can leave the food alone for longer periods, and the "bloom" that floats on the top of the brine becomes easier to remove, since it's one solid sheet. When your taste tests please you, refrigerate the food, or put it somewhere cool to slow things down, like a root cellar.

You are the master of your own fermentations.

Wild Fermentation is still far and away my favorite book (that's at all relevant to wintergreens), but people have been asking for other book recommendations. To that end, I'm setting up a Library Thing bookshelf. We've only just begun, but will work on building it up. Please let us know your favorites!

*This process is slightly different for kimchi, so read the book!

In Response

2010-01-11T18:32:00.009-05:00

To the NYTimes article The 11 Best Foods You Aren't Eating: Yes we are!
The eleven "healthiest foods on earth" were listed as follows:

beets
cabbage
swiss chard
cinnamon
pomegranate juice
dried plums
pumpkin seeds
sardines
turmeric
frozen blueberries
canned pumpkin

I'd rather eat whole pomegranates than buy the juice that doesn't even taste like the fruit it came from, but, alas, they grow in the Sonoran desert! Instead of sardines, there's flax, which can be grown locally and has no risk of heavy metals.

As for the rest, wintergreens has got you covered.

Food for All

2010-01-11T14:50:00.008-05:00

I like Great Barrington, MA. I go there occasionally for meetings, and always find things that impress me: such a nice food co-op with bulk kombucha, local money called BerkShares that have improved the local economy, beautiful ruins of an old fairground (the ruins, not animal racing!), the Orion Magazine office.

During previous visits I've noted signs of well cared for feral cats, and this last time learned about the T.N.R. organization responsible. I'm impressed with Berkshire Animal D.R.E.A.M.S. because trap-neuter-release programs are a challenge to implement, and even harder to get funded.

Beacon has its own [significant] homeless cat population. There are many volunteers working to spay and neuter these cats, build shelters, track colonies, and keep everyone fed and healthy. But Beacon does not have a funded organization like the Berkshires does, so that population is ever-growing.

wintergreens is actively involved in the TNR efforts in Beacon (part of what we're talking about when we blather on about ALL of Beacon's citizens deserving to be well fed). When this issue comes up again as part of the city's budget, I hope you'll support your neighbor cats, too.

Distribution - January 10, 2010

2010-01-09T22:25:00.010-05:00

Woohoo, the first distribution of 2010! Here's what we've got:

Purple pickled cauliflower (Madura Farm)
Onions (Morgiewicz Farm)
Frozen peaches (Glorie Farms)
Frozen pesto (basil from wintergreens' garden, garlic from Huguenot Street Farm)
Carrots (Huguenot Street Farm)
Dried red beans (Cayuga Pure Organics)
and, fresh from the greenhouse, Mesclun baby salad mix (Madura Farm)

Let's start with pickled cauliflower. It's not made with purple cauliflower, but white, and gets its color from a bit of purple cabbage thrown in during fermentation. The brine is hot pink, but the cauliflower itself is sort of a subtle pastel pink, to contrast with its sharp taste. It has some vinegar and hot chili added, but tastes closest to crunchy kraut, with an edge. It's a great accompaniment to mild flavors or soft textures. I'm eating mine snuggled next to mashed potatoes.

Put onions in all hot things (and some room temp salads, too), and put peaches in or on anything cold. Sweet peaches in winter—does it get better than that?

The pesto is made with basil, pine nuts & walnuts, garlic, sea salt, and olive oil. It is very concentrated, and should go a long way. I put my jar in the fridge to thaw first, scrape some off the top & mix with additional olive oil for use (or blend with tofu and spinach for a healthy version). I then put a bit of extra oil on top of what's left in the jar so that it doesn't discolor. It will keep in the refrigerator this way for quite some time. The basil is extra special, since it's grown with seed from the Hudson Valley Seed Library.

Carrots are holding up great in the root cellar. They're amazing little beasts—enjoy them!

We're thrilled to include New York State beans in the distribution. My taste buds and stomach will tell you that Cayuga Pure grows beautiful beans. But before I'd even tasted them I admired them, so glossy compared to those other, dingier red beans! But what to do with all those pretty beans?

Last but not least, we have very nice mesclun mix (heavy on spicy arugula). Many of you told me you'd had too much of EVERYTHING over the holidays. I bet you didn't have too much fresh greens!

Go forth and eat, and remember to bring back your jars for the next helping.

Beacon Bagel + wintergreens = TLA

2010-01-09T21:37:00.006-05:00

Did you carve the sign for true-love-always in trees and wet cement as a child, or did I live in a weird subculture of freaks? No, no, I'm positive you made TLA signs, too.

Well, I feel all warm and fuzzy for Beacon Bagel. Because the market was closed, we held our last distribution of 2009 there, in the front window, with heat and coffee and food. Delightful!

Thanks to Anik and Art for helping out the C.S.A., but also for working so hard to run a great local business. We really appreciate you!

Food Art

2010-01-08T08:42:00.009-05:00

A word about your tea towels from last distribution, and the artist who made them:

Tea towels have everything to do with a functional kitchen. They are reusable for practically forever and let you forego paper towels and napkins, and they make every kitchen chore easier. I use mine to move hot things because I never seem to have potholders close by. I use them, with a piece of string, to keep bugs and dust out of crocks of fermenting food. I wash my hands twelve hundred times a day and need them to dry off. I air dry stacks of clean dishes on them. I use them as a fine strainer.

Putting a calendar on a tea towel ups their functionality one more notch. People in England and Ireland have been making calendar tea towels for a long time—you often bump into them in vintage shops.

Claudia Pearson, the creator of your 2010 calendar tea towel, is a Brooklyn illustrator and children's book author who hails from England. She loves the farmers market and is very interested in local and seasonal food. You can check out her lovely portfolio here. For the food obsessed, she's collaborating with chef Sung Uni Lee to create a series of illustrated recipes that are simple and vegetarian. You received the recipe card for tipsy leeks, and Claudia's just posted one for fuschia mash.

Art and food seem like a funny combination to some, but without aesthetics and creative experimentation, we'd never enjoy eating (or cooking) as much as we do!

Desert Food

2010-01-07T18:51:00.009-05:00

Someone at the market said they thought I'd be bummed living in the desert, because there wouldn't be any local food. Hogwash! Or, more appropriately, javelinawash! The food literally grows on trees...

A taste of the Sonoran desert includes (in order of appearance) pomegranates, mesquite, saguaro fruit, prickly pear tunas, pecans, kumquats, grapefruits, dates, and olives. Swap Meet vendors had the beds of pickup trucks overflowing with oranges and lemons.

Thanks to The Firefly Forest for the saguaro fruit picture. Check out that blog to see beautiful bats eating from a hummingbird feeder.

Eat the New Year

2009-12-31T18:50:00.010-05:00

Whether you're eating black eyed peas in Hoppin' John, eating grapes or sauerkraut for a cleanse, or trying to swallow a long noodle without breaking it, celebrating New Year's Day with foods that are superstitious or traditional, depending on how you look at it, can't hurt!Here's a recipe for veggie Hoppin' John:

1 cup dried black-eyed peas
6 garlic cloves, divided
1 dried hot pepper
1 bay leaf
1 c uncooked brown rice
2 c vegetable oil
1 Tbsp olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
1 jalapeño pepper, chopped
3 celery ribs, chopped
1 big bunch collard greens, large ribs discarded and leaves sliced into thin ribbons
Juice of 1 lemon
Sea salt and fresh ground pepper to taste

Soak peas in cold water for 4 hours or overnight. Drain. In a large pot, bring 3 cups of water to boil over high heat. Add peas, 2 whole garlic cloves, hot pepper and bay leaf. Skim off any floating peas. Reduce heat and simmer, uncovered, until peas are tender but not mush, about 1 1/2 hours.

Add brown rice and broth to pot. Cover and simmer 20 minutes. Turn off the heat, but leave the pot on the burner.

Meanwhile, heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add onion, jalapeño, celery and the remaining 4 garlic cloves, chopped. Sauté for about 5 minutes, stirring, until the vegetables soften. Reduce heat to medium. Add greens by the handful, and cook until wilted, stirring occasionally, about 10 minutes. Fluff rice and beans. Remove whole garlic, dried pepper and bay leaf. Stir in collard mixture, lemon juice and salt and pepper. Makes 6 servings.

Have a happy new year!

*Please note, no feet or rubber boots were used in the making of your sauerkraut. However, happy older people may have enjoyed themselves while pounding.

Distribution - December 27, 2009

2009-12-26T17:41:00.020-05:00

We've made it through the holidays, and are ready for new beginnings. Yes?

Remember that the farm market is closed this weekend, and distribution will take place at the Beacon Bagel from noon to three. Skip breakfast and join us for a schmear (yep, they've got tofu cream cheese). We'll toast with wintergreens' own bubbly: homemade ginger kombucha. Here's what your distribution holds to help you with your local eating and healthy self promises:

2010 calendar tea towel by Claudia Pearson to remind you what's in season when.
A scattering of radishes, rutabagas, beets, and turnips, because a bit of spiciness and earth brought up from the cellar are excellent defenses against the cold. Huguenot Street Farm.
Fermented garlic dill pickles and sauerkraut to get your body back in balance. Cukes from Madura Farm and cabbages from Huguenot Street Farm.
Frozen mulberries to help you get your days started right, with smoothies or sunshine muffins. Mulberries grown wild on the streets of Beacon.
Butternut and delicata squash. Vitamin C! Antioxidants! (Here's a tasty recipe that's not soup.) Huguenot Street Farm.
A smidgen of ginger. Local ginger! If you're sick, put in tea with your pear honey. If you're me, put it in everything. Huguenot Street Farm.
A few more tasty apples, to keep you, um, on schedule. Fishkill Farms.

I guess this new year (new decade!) is about belly and digestive health!
Lucky for you, there's not much to rattle on about today, except that the weather fluctuations are crrrraaaazzzzy and the weather in the root cellar is SO consistent. Amazing. If I weren't so addicted to light, I'd live underground with the veggies.

Oh yeah, and the fact of local ginger. I have tried and tried and failed and failed to grow my own ginger because the stuff they sell even in the health food store comes all the way from China. China! But Huguenot Street Farm grew some this year. It was only enough for inspiration but I'll be sure to be pestering them to do more next year. Have you tried growing ginger?

Stay tuned for new year's recipes for prosperity and happiness. Get your black eyed peas ready....

*Pickle print also by Claudia Pearson.

Figs and Other Fruits I Don't Have

2009-12-24T15:57:00.015-05:00

2009 is the year my fig tree died. It was given to me as a gift many years earlier, because I love the fruit and also love those big floppy elephant ear leaves. I think fondly of the short and stout fig tree that grew in my backyard "on base" (Davis Monthan Air Force Base, that is) when I was kid. It was a grand climbing tree, for me, since I'm scared of heights and was terrible at climbing trees. It thrived there, with no t.l.c.

I still don't know what I did wrong with my coddled fig: it survived last winter (pouting) indoors, by a cold, drafty window with a lot of southern light. She'd shed all her leaves in a tantrum in about March, and then come back strong. Soon after she made the transition to the porch in May, she up and died.

I work in an Italian neighborhood in Brooklyn, and I've spotted several figs there that fruit year after year. I made friends with some of the neighbors, and helped them pick the fruit this year and planned to use some figs for the C.S.A. We decided that their cool cellar was a good place for storing them. I'd checked in a couple times, and they were holding up just fine. When I stopped by this week, I was told they all had recently spoiled. I'd waited one distribution too long, thinking because of the association of figgy pudding with Christmas, that these delicate fruits would last until the end of the month/year/decade. This lack of judgment goes in the annals of failures and mistakes.

Because of losing my fig tree, losing the figs harvested in Brooklyn, and having missed Southern Arizona's fig season, I'm taking this opportunity to pout about fruits I don't have.
Oh yeah, 'tis the season for want-want-want, so let's start with hardy kiwis. I'm reading the kiwi (a.k.a. Actinidia) chapter in Uncommon Fruits for Every Garden. Reading about them and their edible skins and their pop-in-your-mouth deliciousness is making my mouth water. Oh, I have plans to plant them, on a side of my house that needs its ugliness covered by pretty plants, where there's enough room for them to grow like crazy, as it seems they do, and in a place with lots of sunshine. But I have to build mega support for the vines, and house projects tend to back up around here. People get distracted by starting up C.S.A.s, by pickling for farm markets, by train commuting to paying jobs. Thus, walls that are halfway torn down stay only halfway torn down. So, though I feel very determined to get these kiwis going (soon, soon), I wish planting them were going to be as easy as walking down a shady road where the mowers never come and shoving pawpaw seeds one inch under the soil, all along that road.
So, even though I was just complaining about the California Rare Fruit Growers teasing me, part of me suspects I should turn my mid-winter fruit blues toward fruits I can't grow. Just look at them, pet the pages, drool, dream, and move on. (This month's mag features kumquats, which I will be eating in four days. But last month's cover showed Ecuadorian mystery fruits.) What fruits will 2010 bring?

Homeward Bound

2009-12-21T21:00:00.002-05:00

One week from today I'll be sniffing desert air. Yep, I'm going to be a tourist in my own hometown, because I've been away too long. I'll be checking out the sites (bat caves!), eating Mexican food that tastes like Mexican food, taking long walks in the desert (secretly looking for jackrabbits and javelinas), and seeking out all of Tucson's local food. I've been reading Tucson bloggers and bloggers headed for Tucson in preparation. Tucson farmer's markets, here I come!

What's in season foodwise in the Sonoran Desert right now? Olives. Citrus. (Oranges and grapefruits and lemons and tangelos and kumquats, oh my!) Pecan, oh, pecans.

I've missed some things, too, like chiles, nopales, prickly pear tuna, and pomegranates, but maybe just maybe I'll find preserves. I've also missed the season of organized mesquite millings, but know I can still get my hands on some mesquite flour to give it a try. It's a little silly to think I have to taste my way through my visit, but fresh orange juice and green chile tamales won't make terrible guides.

Last time in Tucson I attended an animal rights demo, and ended up at Earth First! HQ having dinner and stuffing envelopes with my eighties activist hero, Rod Coronado. Who knows what this visit will hold? Except, of course, plenty of gorgeous food, gorgeous scenery, and gorgeous weather. And that smell...

Beets, the New Eco Graffiti Tool

2009-12-21T08:57:00.015-05:00

I'm a fan of some of the illegal arts. I get, grudgingly, that gorgeous, bright colors of spray paint and mop markers are toxic. That's what makes moss graffiti, botanigrams, clean tagging (literally erasing grime), and other, newer forms of graffiti interesting.
As if beets aren't delightful enough, their gorgeous color calls out for brine reuse. And there are uses. If you're not drinking it as a tonic, or dyeing paper, clothes, or food with it, consider beet tagging.
Note that it does take some practice to get both your method and message right. Consider this grossness:
While you're practicing, why not be digesting this lovely Mediterranean Beet and Yogurt Salad? Here's how to make soy yogurt so that you can get the tang without the dairy.

New York Raisins & Prunes

2009-12-18T12:29:00.008-05:00

"Sun Mad" is by Esther Hernandez, 1982.

New York grows grapes, New York grows plums. Where are the raisins and prunes? If you know of a NY (or close) farm that sells raisins or prunes, would you let me know?

When searching for my little wrinkled friends, I did come across the very interesting raisin tree. Ooh, those pesky Rare Fruit Growers!

Stick with Your Roots

2009-12-18T10:49:00.011-05:00

Evolutionary Organics (and their turnips) were featured in the NY Times. That's because: 1) Kira's certified naturally grown veggies are fantastic, 2) the Hudson Valley supplies the city greenmarkets with the bulk of the their produce, and 3) everyone should eat turnips and other roots. (Um, and the greens that grew attached to those roots.)

I had a conversation this week with a local organic grower who is also interested in preserving food. We were talking about how we (and most people in the U.S.) are clueless about the value of various foods. Take, for instance, tomato sauce. So many tomatoes go into a jar, and so much time, that it should sell for about twenty bucks. Those little cans of tomato paste you buy for $.99 should cost about fifty dollars. How can you compete with the out-of-control food industry on these things? I, personally, am just tempted to let tomatoes be something that I eat raw, in season, only, preserving only late season green ones, or only if there's a bumper crop in my own little garden. But is everyone willing to give up tomatoes for half the year?

There are some things we do just as well as big commercial farms, or better, really. (I've just lumped myself with HV growers, which I am not! But, as someone who champions and funds HV growers, I'm gonna leave it alone.) Roots, for example, grow fantastically in our area, store well, and taste much better when just pulled from the ground, or stored in a moist root cellar rather than refrigerated in traveling trucks. Because foods like turnips aren't as popular with consumers as something like tomatoes, they don't command as high a price at Key Food or Shop Rite, and those sold at the farmer's market are more likely to be able to compete on price.

This, then, is another reason we should investigate local foods and their seasons. Just as the first ripe tomatoes of summer taste amazing because you haven't had any for months, so do roots. Most of us just need to get more acquainted with them.

Put that jar of cheap "pasta sauce" back on the shelf, and check out some turnip recipes.

Note: If you need vegetarian "fish" sauce, you can get it at many Asian markets. You can also replace it in recipes with a little kimchi brine or concentrated mushroom broth. If you're determined to replicate fish sauce's flavor, here are two recipes to try.

Long Johns

2009-12-13T07:37:00.002-05:00

It's eleven degrees this morning. Bundle up for the farmer's market!

Distribution - December 13, 2009

2009-12-12T20:44:00.013-05:00

This distribution is full of sweets for the holidaze!

apples: super crisp Ida Reds and sweet Mutsus from Fishkill Farms
pickled beets, grown at Huguenot Street Farm
carrots, carrots, and more carrots, from Huguenot Street Farm
pear honey, pears grown at Glorie Farms
frozen sweet red peppers, from Madura Farm
potatoes from Huguenot Street Farm
spinach from Madura Farm

Fishkill Farms' apples are not organic. They are not no spray, rather LOW spray, using integrated pest management. What that means is that they exhaust all other options before spraying. They spray less than commercial orchards, and with caution. And they're working toward becoming organic. In the meantime, wash these apples! (We did get some organic ones this year, too, ugly-beautiful things that were also hit by hail. We'll be making those into sauce...)

Beets are known as a great source of iron, but they're also filled with folic acid (for you pregnant ladies) and have tumor fighting properties. Because these are fermented, they're also great for your belly. You can drink the juice alone as a probiotic tonic. Don't be scared of that florescent color, it tastes great. This recipe is mostly just beets, water, and sea salt, but there's a touch of cider vinegar, agave syrup, mustard powder, and white pepper. The beets have not been canned, so please refrigerate.

I don't know if any of that stuff about carrots being great for your eyesight is real, but I do know that carrots are one the all-time best snacks in the world. Back when I didn't eat anything real at all (high school!), I still remember being impressed by my friend who always had carrots in his back pocket, ready for a snack. I still get angry about bags of "baby carrots" in the store, which are really just large carrots cut down and rounded, because apparently we're too lazy to bite and chew. This is what a real baby carrot looks like:

Pear honey isn't really honey, but is very pear-y. Read all about it here.

Use frozen red peppers any way you use fresh. Of course, I eat red peppers raw and whole like apples, and I wouldn't do that with frozen ones. But they can be used in anything you're cooking: soups, crock pot meals (veggie chili!), stir fries, on pizza, or, if you're fancy, roasted and made into a pretty and flavorful puree to grace the top of other dishes. These peppers give your food a shot of color and sweetness, but also some winter vitamin C.

Potatoes and spinach aren't sweet, but are good for you. Eat well and with color, and we'll see you after the holidays!

Lock Zip

2009-12-12T19:57:00.004-05:00

wintergreens freezes fruit and veggies using the nested bag method. That is, put food in a small freezer bag, then put a bunch of those in a bigger freezer bag, so that there are multiple layers of protection from freezer burn.

We don't use a vacuum sealer. I was tempted, because of the thicker plastic, and because the food looks more "official" that way. The downside was that the plastic then had to be thrown away after it was cut away from the food. I've got a clothesline of washed baggies to reuse, so that part rubbed the frugal me all wrong. Plus, I don't like having to have special single-use equipment. Nesting doesn't get every last bit of air out, but it does protect the food well from burn.

Then my Dept. of Agriculture safety inspector told me that vacuum sealing done wrong can cause botulism, just like canning gone wrong. It creates an anaerobic situation, where bad bacteria can thrive.

Now I'm sure there are measures you can take to avoid botulism, and, indeed, many people use vacuum sealers every day. But after my safety inspector recommended we not vacuum seal our stored food, that sealed the deal! wintergreens uses plain old heavy duty freezer baggies, inside other freezer baggies.

We expect to see your baggies hanging out to dry!

Reusing Jars

2009-12-11T19:20:00.009-05:00

Reducing waste is a huge focus for wintergreens. It informs the order that various foods are prepped (prepare veggies for pickling then use trimmings to make vegetable broth, for example), what tools and packing are used (or not used), it even decides what produce we'll be using. (The hail-damaged apples can't be sold to anyone else? Okay, we'll make applesauce!)

When we pack food in glass, we sometimes use heavy duty canning jars. When we can, we use old jars. They may not look as glamorous, but they're already in our presence, and, when sterilized, can be safely used again and again. Some have the perk of fabulous designs on the lids.

In my own cupboards, I enjoy pulling out my nutritional yeast jar when cooking, for example, because I remember where I got that jar (nearly twenty years ago!).

I hope you'll feel proud to be reusing jars with wintergreens, rather then putting them into recycling after one use. The process of recycling creates pollution, too, and those jars have a lot of functions just as they are. Once you've eaten the food within, please consider bringing your (clean) jars back for reuse.

**Please note: When thawing frozen food in glass jars, loosen the lid, and keep the jar in the refrigerator to thaw. Even the most cheapo commercial jars hold up when food is thawed in this method. Do not run under hot water or put frozen jars in a microwave. If a jar breaks, throw it and the food away. No matter how tasty, it's not worth ingesting broken glass!

Living Underground

2009-12-11T18:59:00.006-05:00

When I go down to the wintergreens root cellar to check the temperature and humidity, it sometimes feels like a trip to a haunted house. It's underground, very dark, smells moist and earthy, and the heaps of vegetables have pale little antennae growing out of them. It feels very alive, like you're not in the cellar alone.

In fact, all those veggies are alive, and that's a good thing. Roots are filled with energy, and they're sending out shoots looking for light. They continue to require moisture in the form of very damp air, accomplished by hanging wet towels, keeping pots of wet soil and trays of water, and by keeping the floor wet. They're still breathing, and to stay in good shape they require fresh (cool) air coming in, and stale (warm) air to leave.

It's tempting to think that veggies stop growing and are frozen in time once they're plucked from the ground and put in a cool place like a cellar or fridge, but actually they're just hibernating. Like bears, their systems slow down, but they're very much alive. It's only if air or moisture are denied that they shrivel and die.

Hardcore over-wintering types collect these pale sprouts and add them to salads. Like other sprouts, they're packed with energy.

I have to stop thinking of these sprouts as whiskers, shooting out to monitor what's happening in the root cellar. Monitor me, really. Then, maybe, I'll be able to eat them.

Rich and Fat

2009-12-07T20:43:00.008-05:00

Not everybody loves soup, but when you're one of us, the soup worshippers, your love goes deep and wide. I eat miso nearly every day, enjoy broth soups made from leftovers, and feel totally luxurious when eating thick stews or creamy soups. A beautiful lunch was served to me the other day that consisted of green salad, fresh bread, a cup of tea, and coconut squash soup. Squash soups are always easy and delicious, but coconut made it fit in with the "rich and fat" themes I've been embracing (and writing off as holiday decadence).

Here's a recipe for creamy coconut squash soup:

1 medium sized butternut (or other) squash, peeled and cut into about ½ inch pieces (about 3 cups)
1 large onion, chopped
3 medium cloves garlic, chopped
1 Tbsp chopped fresh ginger
1 tsp turmeric
1 tsp curry powder
2 3/4 cups + 1 Tbsp vegetable broth
6 oz canned coconut milk
2 Tbsp chopped fresh cilantro
salt & white pepper to taste

Peel squash and cut into pieces.

Heat 1 Tbsp broth in medium soup pot. Healthy Saute onion in broth over medium heat for about 5 minutes, stirring frequently, until translucent. Add garlic, ginger, and continue to sauté for another minute. Add turmeric, curry powder, and mix well. Add squash and broth, and mix. Bring to a boil on high heat. Once it comes to a boil reduce heat to medium low and simmer uncovered until squash is tender, about 10 minutes.

Place in blender and blend with coconut milk. Make sure you blend in batches filling blender only half full. (Start on low speed, so you don't have a hot blender accident!) Blend until smooth, about 1 minute. Thin with a little broth if needed. Season to taste with sea salt and white pepper. Rewarm, and add cilantro.

Party hearty.

Almondinis

2009-12-02T21:49:00.001-05:00

I need greens today, and tomorrow, and the next day. Greens and plenty of water. That's because I had a carnival of holiday excess eating, the focus of my glee being nuts. I ate waaaay too many almonds, pecans, and coconuts (which are technically seeds).

The peak of my nuttiness focused on almonds. Knowing I'd have a bit of time over the holiday, I'd stocked up on sliced almonds, almond paste, almond meal, and almond extract (just in case!). I hadn't consulted a recipe, just my own (admittedly strong) want.

And then I found this recipe for pignolis. Though I sometimes veer into the philosopical on the subject of pignolis (Why are almond cookies topped with pine nuts? Why not just use almond meal instead of wheat flour?), I shut up and baked, and they made for an amazing, decadent binge: the bottoms of the cookies were nearly caramelized, and the tops purely sported almonds. Let's call them "almondinis." They may be the most insane cookies I've ever had. Subtle they are not.

Thus, I now detox. Maybe Almondinis and I will meet again in a year (or two).

Scavenge and Glean

2009-11-27T17:20:00.010-05:00

Scavengers aren't generally thought of very well, but there are ways of appreciating them. After all, when a murder of crows descends, they do clean up our roadkill, our rot, our discards. They loudly scold us for our errors, and move on to clean up for someone else. (Yes, a flock of crows is really called a "murder.")

Here's a non-crow version: Food Bank Farm went to farmers' fields after they were done harvesting. They dug and pulled and collected missed roots, tiny broccoli heads that wouldn't sell at market, imperfect greens, missed apples, and delivered the fresh food to food pantries. (Julia, the vegetable farmer at Fishkill Farms, calls her late season pool-ball sized cabbages "kittens.")

Worlds apart, in the U.S. there are philosophically driven dumpster divers, and in China, rag pickers who dissassemble our discarded electronics to save the reusable pieces. They are driven by poverty.

Another version is groups like Fallen Fruit, like Iskash*taa. Like a friend of a friend Inna Pickle Inna Jam who rides her bike around, offering jars of preserves and asking fruit tree owners if she can pick their unwanted fruit. Her preserves are named after where the food was discovered: Norvell Street Quince and Essex Street Plum.

This dark, moody day after Thanksgiving, the flocks of crows are here, talking. I'm not taking it as a death toll, rather, as a sign of efficiency, of early winter cleanup, as something that is right and makes sense.

Full disclosure: I was predisposed to be pro-scavenge since I had and loved a vulture stuffed animal as a kid.

Roasted Squash

2009-11-23T14:46:00.004-05:00

My grocery, Nature's Pantry in Fishkill, had a full thanksgiving meal laid out for shoppers to taste this weekend. Thankfully, it was a vegetarian meal. They also provided recipes for the food they offered, and I thought I'd share the tastiest one here.

Roasted Squash

1 lb. orange squash deseeded and peeled, and roughly chopped (kabocha, butternut, acorn)
1 Tbsp chopped garlic
2 Tbsp chopped shallot
1 Tbsp fresh grated ginger
2 Tbsp olive oil
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp allspice
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp ground coriander
1/8 tsp cayenne
1/2 tsp sea salt
1/4 c margarine, melted

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Mix herbs and spices into the oil, then fold into the squash. Bake for 45 minutes to an hour in a glass casserole dish, or until tender when poked with a fork.

Thanks to vegannifer for the image.

Holiday Veg Roast

2009-11-23T13:48:00.008-05:00

We hope that you and your loved ones enjoy the roasts prepared with love by wintergreens!

If you forgot to order one, maybe you'll find this Everyday Dish video useful. In it, my pal Brian McCarthy makes a great seitan roast.

Vegan Turkey Loaf from Everyday Dish TV on Vimeo.

Distribution - November 22, 2009

2009-11-21T20:39:00.008-05:00

This Thanksgiving distribution we have food that is sturdy in the cold (kale, sage), many items from the root cellar, and our first fermented bit.

roots: rutabagas, turnips, radishes from Huguenot Street Farm
rhubarb chutney from Madura Farm (the rhu, not the chut!)
sage from Huguenot Street Farm
potatoes & sweet potatoes from Huguenot Street Farm
squash: butternut and delicata from Huguenot Street Farm
fennel from Morgiewicz Farm
curly kale from Morgiewicz Farm
garlic from Huguenot Street Farm

If green was the theme of the first distribution, the theme of the second is "roots."
There's nothing better than mixed roasted roots in the fall. I chop all roots (the denser ones should be smallest) with squash and fennel and whole garlic cloves and quartered onions and bake them with olive oil and salt, for an easy meal filled with a lot of earthy flavors. If you have a fry daddy or a good exhaust fan over your stove, you may want to make pretty root veggie chips.

If rutabagas (a cross between a turnip and a cabbage) are new to you, you might want to prepare them in a way that they are the focus: mashed with maple or with pears, or stuffed into squashes with pecans, or in a soup with chipotle.We decided to include rhubarb this distribution with the theory that this chutney can be a locally grown replacement for cranberry sauce at a thanksgiving meal. It's sweet, sour, tangy, and a tiny bit spicy, and goes nicely on crackers as an hors d'oeuvre, or as a tangy side to the many salty and savory foods we traditionally eat at this holiday. (The chutney has the following ingredients: fermented rhubarb, onion, raisins, agave nectar, apple cider vinegar, ginger, garlic, jalapeno, olive oil, salt, allspice, clove, black pepper, cinnamon, black pepper, and cayenne pepper.)

Sage is a rich herb, and a key ingredient to stuffing. It tastes great with potatoes and apples, and, if your fry daddy is still hot, there are sage potato chips.You can figure out what to do with potatoes and delicious sweet potatoes: Mash 'em! Ditto for squashes. Just don't forget to roast your seeds! Use garlic in your mashes, and every day in everything, to keep from getting sick.

And kale. We're so obsessed with bready things and creamy things on thanksgiving, that we often forget our greens. When we remember them, our guests are happy. There are a billion ways to prepare greens, but I find that this recipe (pretty and appealing) is by far the most universally accepted by people who aren't used to eating leafy greens.

Fantastic fennel. Try it carmelized, in potatoes, with pasta, or for the strongest licorice flavor, shredded raw in a salad.

There are some unusual foods in this distribution, but I urge you to give them a try. You're not always going to love every food that's locally grown, but it's worth it to find out.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

Winter Salad

2009-11-18T21:54:00.014-05:00

Green salads are not just for summer lunches. What goes nicer with hot soup or a hunk of fresh bread?

Way back when I was a young and going to school in Jersey, there was a snow storm that dumped something like four feet of snow, and stopped everything for days. Suffering from serious cabin fever, I hiked to a friend's house for dinner.

This was not an easy task, since plows hadn't come through at all, and drifts were taller than me. A walk that usually took fifteen minutes took me at least an hour and a half. Tired and wet when I got there, I thought it would be the soup or the tea or the whiskey that would win my heart, but it was a green salad with lime dressing, topped with avocado, pepitas, and lots of pomegranate seeds.

I grew up in the desert eating pomegranates and kumquats like they were going out of style, but I had never thought to put either of them in a salad. Nearly twenty years later I remember that salad and evening fondly. I don't remember my friend Matthew's boyfriend's name—the smart guy responsible for the salad.

Now my salads are always an experiment. If I'm craving something, I put it on a salad, or, in the dressing. (Tequila, no problem! Jicama, good idea! Flax seeds, sesame seeds, and peanuts, great! Pickles, well, all right. Peanut butter, yes, excellent with sesame oil and soy sauce.)

In winter this often means I'm putting hot foods on top of my greens: roasted beets and parsnips, wild rice, curry sauce, mashed potatoes, half burned spicy green beans, bean thread, squashes. Nuts and fruit are great on top of the hot layer. Obviously I use big bowls for these monster creations. Half of the time there's so much good stuff in there, I don't need dressing at all.

Today's salad had chopped raw fennel (the whole thing, bulb to fronds), haruki turnip, walnuts, and an apple. This sounds a little sad, but here it is anyway: It was the highlight of my day.

Biblically Bad

2009-11-14T22:26:00.008-05:00

With 2009 being the worst farming season in NY in memory, the whole being-grateful-for-our-food ritual feels important.

Salted Plums

2009-11-13T11:28:00.012-05:00

I grew up next to the Mexican border, sucking saladitos that I bought for a nickel from a box next to the register at the corner store. Better than candy, these salted dried plums made your face and neck pucker, were useful for bets and challenges, and made pop fiz like crazy when you dropped them in the can. I haven't had a saladito in years, but my hankering is satisfied by the Japanese version, umeboshi plums. (You can taste ume in wintergreens' plum vinegar radishes.)

My friend Youko serves ume dishes at her New Paltz eatery, Gomen-Kudasai, and sent this info my about beloved salty snack:

The Japanese are masters when it comes to fermentation and pickling. The ume plum is no exception. When the plum is picked it is fermented in a very specific amount of salt that promotes only an important beneficial bacteria: lactic acid bacteria. These bacteria run the show and prevent harmful bacteria from entering the plum. This probiotic quality of umeboshi, in combination with its other healing properties, provides one of coolest examples of holistic eating.

Umeboshi vs. Conventional Antibiotics

Conventional antibiotics are nutorious for 2 things: gastrointestinal upset, and easy bleeding & bruising. Both of these are rooted in the fact that conventional antibiotics are often (but not always) broad-spectrum antibiotics, meaning: they kill the beneficial bacteria in your gut too! Without friendly gut bacteria, your gut cannot digest food efficiently. Moreover, gut bacteria are primarily responsible for vitamin K production, which is responsible for blood coagulation and keeps our bleeding in check.

There are times when only a presrciption antibiotics should be recommended. However, umeboshi is better used as an antibiotic tonic. A tonic is something which helps the overall functioning of a system over a longer period of time, rather than doing something very specific in a short period of time. Umeboshi is also, like ginger, a gastrointestinal tonic.

So unlike conventional antibiotics, umeboshi works as an effective long term pathogen antibacterial, but at the same time protects (rather than destroys) your gastrointestinal health.

Another random use: ume apparently works as a hangover cure. Though I haven't tested the theory, friend-of-wintergreens Eva said our fermented pickles make for an excellent hangover recovery. If you've overindulged, indulge in a pickle, or drop an ume plum or saladito in your morning seltzer!If you missed the link the first time, Just Hungry illustrates how to make your own umeboshi.

Beacon or Bust

2009-11-13T10:37:00.003-05:00

It was a great summer in Cold Spring, but winter is all about Beacon! We've closed up shop in Cold Spring, and will now be at the Beacon Farmers Market the 2nd and 4th Sundays of each month, through the end of April.