change promise fudge

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

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

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

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

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

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.

Brooklyn Figs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and now back....

Herb

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

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

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

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.