Kimchi Fest

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.

Harvest Season

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

1. Befriend your freezer.
2. Rig up your own root cellar.
3. Cover your crops.
4. Dehydrate.
5. Learn about wild food.
6. Plant edible perennials.
7. Ferment.
8. Can like granny.
9. Sprout.
10. 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.

Freezer Pickles Demystified

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.

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

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.

wintergreens: How We Started

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 is Coming!

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!

Distribution - January 24, 2010

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!

Witches Brew

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!

Distribution - January 10, 2010

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.

Eat the New Year

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

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.

Salted Plums

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.

Tart

Speaking of lemons being a key ingredient in my food, and not being a locally grown item, I like the thought (put forth by a food blogger that I can no longer locate) that, in the northeast, rhubarb is our lemon. It's true, it's mostly tart, with some underlying sweet, and can be used to give food the edge that we generally depend on lemons to provide. I've pickled a pretty pink vat of rhubarb, and look forward to experimenting with it this winter. Do you have any (vegetarian) recipes to share where rhubarb isn't a main ingredient (as in pie or preserves) but is used for its tang?

Pear Honey

First things first: pear honey has no honey in it. It is named for its color and consistency. I'm not going to give you measures, because every recipe varies, and the key is really just to cook the mix down until the consistency is right. You'll need:

• Peeled and cored ripe pears, run through the food processor to a chunky slush. (I use a pull peeler for pears, and it's very easy. I struggled with a straight handled peeler for years, and found a nice sharp pull peeler to be great for many things: watermelon rind, squashes, anything firm.)
  
• Sugar
  
• Pineapple juice, or fresh pineapple, crushed, or even frozen concentrated pineapple juice.
  
• Lemon

Put the pears in a heavy bottomed pan with an enormous amount of sugar, over medium heat. Most recipes call for pretty much equal parts pears to sugar, but if you want to put in less sugar, I don't blame you. Squeeze lemon into the mix, and add some zest, too, if you like. While we're talking tools, a citrus reamer is by far the most straightforward way to get the most juice out of your citrus. And who doesn't love good old wooden hand tools? Add just enough pineapple to give the mix additional liquid and tang, probably in a 1/6 ration to the pear and sugar amounts. When the mixture starts to bubble, turn it down to a simmer and stir often. The more you've made, the longer it will take to thicken.While we're waiting for our mixture to thicken, let's talk about the blatant use of very non-local ingredients. Here's my take on this: pretty much everyone uses some stuff that's traveled far and wide. I say, pick your battles. Eat as much local food as you can, eat less and less meat, drive less, turn down the heat in your house, collect rainwater, don't be a super consumer. And then any guilt you might feel over using lemons doesn't feel like much. Me, I couldn't really operate without lemons and limes. Should I probably live in a warmer climate, where lemons and pomegranates and figs and nopal and avocados grow? Yes. But I don't. And pineapples are from even further away! Here's a secret: I often buy pineapple juice concentrate to use in my recipes. It tastes pretty great used to sweeten curries. Hopefully those little cans take less fuel to ship from around the world. I'm ok with these guilty pleasures, because they're helping me use up a tree full of ripe pears from right here in the Hudson Valley. (If pressed, I'm sure a version of this recipe would work just fine with no traces of pineapple.)
Wow, this is turning into a confessional. Sorry, but here's another: I had no interest in canning. When you're super into the aliveness of fermentation, canning seems like a bit of a bummer, since everything has to be heated to death. But pear honey (remember to stir, now!) is changing my attitude. After all, freezer space is tight, and canning has turned out to be so extremely easy. There is an appeal to having all those pretty jars lined up in the root cellar. Proper processing calls for boiling the jars in water for 10 minutes, then cooling upside down. Is your pear honey thick yet? If yes, I found that pouring it into the jars when still boiling hot, sealing them tight, and inverting them, is plenty to create a strong vacuum seal. If you're worried, or if the lids don't get super stiff, put them in the bath.

These jars will last for at least a year, and the pear honey can be used as a straight sweetener, instead of marmalade, or as an ingredient. The pear flavor is delicious. And if you're like me, your canning craze will have begun.

Pickle Popsicle

I bumped into this funny item on the internets this morning. Maybe wintergreens should team up with Zora Dora?

Pickle Upper

Meet Eva. She had never had a pickle in her (nearly) eighteen years.* All that changed two weeks ago.

Eva looked sleepy, and I offered her a fermented garlic dill pickle, thinking she could use a vitamin C kick. She explained the lack of pickles in her life thus far, and was tentative with her first few bites. The report was good: it tasted great to her, and unlike anything she'd had before. That pickle started something.

Today, Eva explained that the past couple of weeks have been filled with cravings for things she never had or liked before: olives, dark chocolate, and pickles.** You might call it a tastebud revolution. She wants a version of the wintergreens C.S.A. that is pickles only, every week, all winter long.

Not a terrible idea, Eva. Not bad at all.***

*I had word with her father about this tastebud terrorism.
**Eva's father had a word with her about whether she might be pregnant.
***This would be the easiest C.S.A. on the planet to run, no?
P.S. Meet beekeeper Mike. He thought these particular half sours in this particular jar were too beautiful to eat. I took this picture so that he could look at them forever, and still get to eat them.

Sigue Sigue Sputnik

In order for the wintergreens blog to be a well-rounded place, we need to discuss bruises, rot, mistakes, failure, crashes and burns. One such crash involved the gorgeous and alien-looking kohlrabi, a vegetable as wild looking as the glam band, and in this case, as short lived.I got a most beautiful batch of white and purple kohlrabi bulbs. Excited to preserve these crisp lovelies, I moved them into a barrel of salt brine, covered them, and waited. After a few days, they smelled fantastic, and the one I sampled was crunchy and flavorful. Left to ferment longer, I was left with a big barrel of stinky rot, a struggle to get out to the compost without gagging. Slimy purple and white and black, with the stench of a dead cow.

It was my first experience with vegetables rotting that I was attempting to ferment. Up until this moment everything I'd captured under brine had preserved well, and often taken on interesting and new flavor qualities. I wondered, does kohlrabi have some special reason it can't be fermented? Nope—others have done it successfully. Was there a rotten bulb in there that caused the rest to turn? Did I not pack it tightly enough, and leave air bubbles? Was there not enough salt in the brine? Was the barrel left in too warm of a place? I'll never know, but you can bet the itch to do it again, successfully, has got to be scratched. I want kohlrabi more than ever.Spectacular failure is okay sometimes. After the eighties, we just go on.

Choices

Exercise your right to choose: Don't rely on Key Food for your health and happiness this winter!

Spoiled with Food

I am lucky to have this job. One reason that's true is the great people I get to meet. One couple who are wintergreens regulars at the market are passionate about tofu, saying that the tofu we sell is the best they've had in the U.S. (though still not comparable to Japanese tofu quality). One of them came by after the market was closed today to tell me about hiyayakko preparations for tofu, and to make me an on-the-spot cool lunch on a really hot day. How sweet is that?

Then I had the pleasure of going to a guacamole competition/party, thrown by another market-goer who takes her guacamole VERY seriously. I'd gotten the date confused and didn't have traditional ingredients, so made Korean guacamole, with a lot of kimchee chopped finely and mixed in to mashed avocado (what I did have available). I didn't take home the big sahuaro prize, but people were intrigued. (I must reveal my inspiration: a west coast friend had just told me that Korean tacos are all the rage there.) It was a lovely gathering, and everyone wins when there's guacamole to be had and sangria flowing.

It's great getting to know you all—and your food!Korean Guacamole

• 1 ripe avocado
  
• 1 cup kim chee, diced
  
• 4 tsp kim chee brine
  
• 1Tbsp diced jalapeno
  
• Dash of sea salt

Chop avocado then mash with a fork. Gently stir in other ingredients.

"Real" Pickles

There are some people who've enjoyed tasting citrus turnips and curried cauliflower, but who just don't believe a pickle is a pickle unless it once was a cucumber.

For those of you needing a pickled cuke to chomp on, traditional garlic pickles have arrived in the 'hood. Madura Farm has provided us with stacks of lovely kirbys, and they've made for crunchy, REAL, crowd-pleasers. Visit wintergreens at the Cold Spring Farmer's Market and taste for yourself.