The Best Money Ever Spent

Some months ago, a friend of mine asked if A. and I wanted to split a family share at a local CSA organic farm. It didn't take us long to jump at the opportunity. Organic produce every single week from May to whenever it peters out in the fall for $200? We're in! And it was easily the best $200 we've ever spent. Although the weather's, well, sucked for most of the summer, the abundance of produce has been astonishing. The share is split three ways, and yet we still tend to end up with more food than we can eat (hence my recent canning craze).

The whole idea is great--swing by on your appointed day, toting baskets, clippers, and bags, help yourself to your share of the produce in the farm stand, and then take to the field to collect flowers, fruit, herbs, and more veggies. The raspberries and blackberries are coming into season now, which gives us a little something to dress our cereal up with every morning. It's a great thing; it gives those of us with no time, space, inclination, or talent for gardening all the benefits of fresh-grown produce with almost none of the work. And, it gives me something to look forward to on Wednesdays (our appointed day). I never check the farm's website to see what's on offer--I like to be surprised. Every Wednesday's like Christmas morning now.

In season this week: the aforementioned berries, heirloom tomatoes (mmmmmm), watermelon, and dill, among other things. I grabbed the dill on a whim, I'll admit, and now I'm trying to think of things to do with it. I think I'll do a veggie dip with some plain yogurt and snack on it at work next week. What do you think?

Kashi If You Can

I was pretty entertained the other day when I stumbled across a post on Chowhound that described most Kashi cereals as being designed by a "stern, ascetic, pucker-mouthed wraith" who produces "rabbit-food-like items". Funny? Yes. And also, sadly, true.

Now, the post was actually complimenting the Kashi cereal that seems to be the exception to the rule--their Autumn Wheat cereal, which I will say, is quite lovely and good, although a little on the sweet side for me. On the strength of that cereal, I thought I'd try one of their Go Lean Crunch cereals this week. Its major appeal? High protein content, which is a must in our house (A. and I tend to exercise pretty obsessively).

What I failed to pay attention to, although I should have, was the staggeringly high sugar content in these supposedly healthy cereals. A whopping 13 grams--that's almost as much as there is in Cocoa Puffs! (Interestingly, Cocoa Puffs also has about half the fat of the Kashi cereal I grabbed--1.5 grams vs. 3 grams). As A. said as soon as he took his first bite, "It's like eating caramel corn." For breakfast. With milk. Ick. I don't care where that sugar is coming from, sugar is sugar, and I don't know how lean you're going to be sucking down 13 grams of it every morning for breakfast.

I'm not normally the type to judge a cereal based on aesthetics (I do, after all, eat Shredded Wheat 'n' Bran on a regular basis), but the Go Lean cereal really did look a bit sad. And yes, it does look like rabbit food. Or the sweet feed we used to give to the horses (which is coated in molasses and tastes almost exactly like this cereal. I think I've just figured out where they got this idea from).

Needless to say, I won't be dipping back into the Kashi well. Yes, the protein content is high, but so is everything else. I think I'll stick with my nice, boring Shredded Wheat topped with a few blueberries, thanks!

Canning Craze

It's that time of the summer when the produce starts rolling in faster than we can eat it. We've been especially overrun with tomatoes, despite the blight and crappy weather--not that I'm complaining. The tomatoes we're getting from the farm are fabulous, but I was starting to run out of ways to prepare them. I was having the same problem with all the summer squash we were getting. My solution--tomato sauce, homemade, canned, and put aside for January, when a hot bowl of pasta with yummy summer veg would be most welcome.

So, that was my project on Sunday. While the sauce was simmering, I blitzed up some pesto, using the enormous bunch of basil I got from the farm last Wednesday, and canned that too (waste not, want not!) The sauce turned out beautifully, and I now have five jars of it, sealed and sitting in my makeshift closet pantry, just waiting for those chilly winter days.

Summer Pasta Sauce

1 large summer squash (zucchini or yellow squash)

1 medium onion or 2 small onions, minced

2 cloves garlic, minced

4-5 large tomatoes, chopped small

1/2 bell pepper (any color)

your favorite herbs (I used a few leaves of fresh basil and thyme)

Olive oil

Salt and pepper to taste

Heat a deep saute pan over medium heat. Add enough olive oil to coat the bottom. Add onions and garlic and saute until the onions are just transparent. Add squash and stir. Saute for a few minutes, until the squash just starts to color and cook a little.

Add the tomatoes, stir, and simmer for about five minutes, stirring frequently to keep them from sticking to the pan.

Add the herbs and peppers and simmer the sauce about 5-10 minutes, until it reduces and thickens slightly. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Can in sterilized jars for later use or refrigerate.

**Cook's note: if you don't mind a wetter, slightly thinner sauce, you don't have to bother seeding the tomatoes. If you want your sauce thicker, though, gut the tomatoes before adding them to the sauce***

Cooling Cocktail

As you may imagine, after all the insanity and stress from earlier this week, as A. and I finally headed home on Wednesday evening, I was sorely in need of a nice glass of white wine or a cocktail. I'm not a big drinker, but sometimes, you really just need a little something to unwind with. It was also about 95 degrees outside. Perfect Mojito weather.

A. was only too happy to oblige, and we stopped off for some white rum on the way. We were practically on our doorstep before I realized we didn't have any mint--kind of a problem if you're making a classic Mojito. Neither of us wanted to stop again, so we decided to experiment with what we had. There was a lime and a few lemons in the fridge, and I'd just snatched up a huge bunch of basil from the organic farm. Well, lemon and basil go together...

I left the mixology to A. (who is very good at it) while I raided the fridge for leftovers to scrape together for dinner. He did an excellent job, all things considered. If there's ever a Top Mixologist show on Bravo, he should check it out. I think this is one we'll definitely keep tweaking (I would have liked the basil flavor to come through just a bit more). What do you think? Any suggestions for improvement or favorite drinks of your own?

Lemon-Basil Mojito

4 large basil leaves

2 tsp sugar

1 1/4-2 oz white rum (A. "eyeballed" the rum--probably why I started feeling the drink so quickly, so I'm just going with the classic proportions here)

1 1/2 lemons, cut into quarters

ice cubes

club soda

Cut the pulp from the peel of the 1/2 lemon. Discard peel.

Place basil leaves, sugar, lemon pulp, and lemon quarters in a tall glass. Muddle until the pulp is fairly well squashed

Add rum and ice cubes. Top with club soda.

Comfort Food

We're currently in the middle of a family crisis. My dad's heart, it turns out, is in rather poor shape, a fact that made itself apparent when he passed out in the garden Sunday morning, scaring my poor mother to death and bringing A. and I flying from Princeton to Doylestown Hospital.

We're all lucky, this time. Although dad's tests were a bit worse than expected, the problem is fixable. He's still in the hospital, having some procedures done, but they expect to release him tomorrow, and he's back in good spirits and feeling much better. The whole family is now breathing a collective sigh of relief and, finally, eating a little again.

Its at times like these that you realize the vital importance of comfort food. Last night, post hospital visit, mom, A., my grandmother, and I all went out for dinner. My mother went for the ultimate comfort food--meatloaf. I can't remember the last time she made or ate meatloaf, but there she was, happily inhaling it.

"This is just what I needed," she sighed when the plate was scraped. "Some good, filling comfort food." In an unusual move for me, I too indulged--in a cheeseburger and fries. I never order cheeseburgers and fries, and yet in mere minutes my plate was empty, astonishing A.

"Where did you put all that?" he asked, staring from my plate to his own, which still had half a burger and a full order of fries on it.

The night before, while A loaded the car with our dogs and the suitcase so we could stay with my mother in PA, I whipped up a quick order of another major comfort food (for me at least): pasta. A plate of ziti with some fresh summer veg, leftover roasted chicken from the night before, pepper, and a little parmesan cheese. Quick, easy, nourishing, and yes, comforting.

Consolation Pasta

(serves 2)

1/4 lb pasta of choice (I used ziti, but anything will do)

5 cherry tomatoes, quartered or 1 tomato, seeded and diced

1/2 fresh zucchini or other summer squash, cut in half and sliced into half moons

1/4-1/2 cup cooked chicken

Parmesan to taste

pepper to taste

Boil pasta according to package directions, stirring occasionally to keep it from clumping together.

Drain, retaining a tablespoon or two of the cooking water.

Return pasta to the pot with the cooking water. Add zucchini, chicken, and tomatoes. Stir to combine. Add pepper and parmesan to taste and stir to combine. Serve.

The Tomato Extravaganza

Despite the blight and the uncooperative weather, tomato season has come to New Jersey, and Restaurant Serenade in Chatham celebrated with their annual Tomato Extravaganza. As a major perk of the job, A. and I scored seats at the press table for the dinner, which was fabulous.

I'd been meaning to try Serenade for a while--their menus sound amazing, and I wasn't disappointed. The five-course meal kicked off with tomato cocktails (we tried the tomato water with, presumably, spicy vodka, which was interesting. What the heck is tomato water, anyway?) and some little bites before progressing to amazingly velvety corn soup, halibut, fried green tomatoes, little bison burgers, and a particularly inventive tomato bread pudding with an outstanding basil ice cream--quite the inventive take on the traditional tomato basil salad.

To my (kitchen nerd) delight, I got to chat with the chef/owner before the dinner, and in doing so I learned a couple of things:

1. The cold, wet weather has played hell with the tomatoes. Apparently, hot, sunny days are needed to get great, sweet, ripe tomatoes. Even the ones that ripened properly have a watery flavor this year. I had no idea.
2. This unfortunate situation required a complete overhaul of the evening's menu. A last-minute overhaul, by the sound of it. Apparently, in years past, the tomatoes have been the star of the show, but this year they were relegated to more of a supporting player role because the flavor wasn't all there. No matter, everything was still delicious, and I loved the gazpacho served in a small, hollowed-out tomato that served as a side for one of the entrees.

As a bonus, the farmer who grows Serenade's tomatoes (and peaches, and...well, almost all their produce, really) was on hand to answer diners' questions in a dessert-time Q&A. I learned more about tomatoes and cutting back peach trees during that 20-minute session than I thought I ever would. Maybe someday I'll put it to good use and manage to keep a plant alive for a change. Well, a girl can dream, can't she?

Quick and Easy Does It

Thankfully, the fajitas went better than the scallops.

On the occasional Sunday, I volunteer with a local animal shelter, handling a dog when they do adoptions at the pet store down the road. I love doing it, I really do, but it is surprisingly tiring. Yesterday, they sent an adorable puppy named Josie, who was great, but rambunctious, so I was more zapped than usual by the time I dragged myself home. Fortunately, I had an easy dinner planned.

Last week, I tried out my magazine's recipe of the month: a grilled Southwest-style beef, marinated in spices and lime juice. It was quite delicious, and there was plenty left over for fajitas. I grabbed some whole-wheat wrappers when I went food shopping Friday (a more difficult process than you'd think--I found myself standing in the aisle, holding three different types of whole wheat fajita wrapper, trying to figure out which one was the healthiest. I went for the one with the most recognizable ingredients).

I had some kidney beans in the cupboard, so I sauteed some onions and jalapenos with them and mashed the whole thing up to make a sort of refried bean. It tasted slightly bland, even with salt, so I added a little chili powder and a squeeze of fresh lime. Much better. As for the meat--that just had to be heated through, with some onions, jalapenos, and sliced green peppers from the organic farm. A little shredded cheese, some chopped Jersey tomatoes, and warmed fajita wrappers and we had a very satisfying dinner in under 20 minutes. The best kind!

Scallop Stumped

I need to work on my scallop recipe.

For some reason, I had an inexplicable urge to make scallops this weekend. Maybe it's the fact that I've finally found somewhere to buy nice, fat, fresh ones for less than $15 a pound (the amazing Asian grocery store less than 10 minutes away in Plainsboro--one of my new favorite food stops). I don't make scallops often. In fact, I can't remember the last time I did them, but I had made up my mind, and yesterday I got my hands on eight plump, ocean-smelling beauties.

In the summer, I tend to lean towards light flavors when I cook. Acids like lemon and lime, and lots of fresh herbs, which, I'm proud to say, I've managed to keep alive in a small planter on our front porch. I know scallops have a pretty delicate flavor, so my plan was to marinate them in some olive oil, lemon juice, and sage and serve them with a nice gremolata (a finely minced combination of parsley, herbs, garlic, and lemon zest).

Sorry to say, it wasn't my greatest success. For one thing, I think I marinated the scallops for too long. And the gremolata tasted bitter, no matter what I did to try and tamp that particular flavor down. I thought cooking down the marinade and using it as a sauce might help, since the acid would cut the bitter taste. Well, that was a mistake. All I tasted was acid. It overwhelmed the delicate flavor of the scallops and hit my stomach like a lemony spike. Luckily, I did a caprese salad as a side dish, and both A. and I shoved the tomatoes aside and inhaled the mozzarella instead. The white wine we were drinking, though nice, didn't help with the acidity hit either.

Oh well, you live, you learn. Now I know to go a little easier on the lemon next time, use all herbs instead of parsley, maybe. This is how you figure out what works and what doesn't--and that's what intuitive cooking is all about. Hopefully tonight's fajitas will go a little better!

Who Can't Cook?

A startling number of my friends claim they can't cook. I'm not sure I buy it. I have yet to meet anyone in real life who doesn't know how to turn on an oven or a stove and put a pot in or on it. Know how to boil water? Toss in an egg or some pasta--you're cooking!

I think what people who say they can't cook actually mean is that they don't know how ingredients go together. They don't know how flavors work together. They've got the basic fundamentals, but they don't know how to take the next step, look at what they have in the refrigerator, and make a full meal out of it. That can be tough, and intimidating. It takes practice. I used to be in awe of my mother when I was young, because she could do that, and because I watched and helped her do it, once I moved out of my parents' home, I could do it too. My roommates were amazed!

That's intuitive cooking, to me. Looking at a few ingredients, grabbing the ones that go well together, tossing them in a pan, and putting it on a plate. I do it almost every day--rarely do I use an actual recipe (except when baking, but that's a whole other thing). Of course, to be able to do this, you have to know what all the ingredients taste like, which means you have to eat. A lot.

Eating, sadly, has been stigmatized in this country. Unlike in France, where food is a sensual experience, or Italy, where it's all about nourishment and family, here in the US food has, for many years, been looked at askance. It makes us fat! No it doesn't. Too much junk food makes you fat. Good food--fresh food--is a good thing.

Happily, it seems that Americans are starting to come around on the idea of food. There are trainee foodies everywhere, and God knows how many food blogs, so there's hope yet. I'm happy about that, because food has put up with so much abuse--coming out of cans for decades, bizarre flavor combinations--that it's about time fresh food started being appreciated again. It's no longer impossible to find a nice cut of meat or a great farmers' market (at least in NJ, where I live). Food is cool again, and I'm hoping it won't be long before even the most die-hard 'can't cooks' jump on the bandwagon and start experimenting with quinoa and jicama (though maybe not together). When they do, I hope one or two of them will invite me over.

Bon appetit!