Blighted

Well, the organic farm has thrown in the towel with the tomatoes this year.

When I went yesterday, I was told that sauce and cherry tomatoes were now "gleaning" crops, meaning I could help myself to as many usable ones as I could find. Quality was poor because they'd been hit by late blight.

Boy, had they ever. Under a gray, drippy sky I wandered the rows of dessicated plants sporting rotted out fruit that somehow still clung to the vine, although it dropped off the second you touched it, splotching the ground beneath it. The few baby tomatoes somehow still managing to sprout don't stand a chance.

Someone told me that this is the same strain of blight that caused the Irish Potato Famine in the 1840's. We still haven't figured out what causes it or what to do about it. And walking the fields yesterday, I could get a very, very tiny measure of what it must have been like to go out to your farm in the morning and see your previously healthy plants reduced to this. Very disheartening.

Still, there is a bit of a silver lining. At least tomatoes can be eaten underripe, unlike potatoes. Circumstances like this tend to make you think differently about how you use your produce. Serendipitously, the New York Times ran a recipe yesterday for Green Tomato Soup. Keeping that in mind, I pulled some good-sized green tomatoes off the vines so I can give it a try. The weather's turned rainy and chilly very suddenly out here, perfect weather for soup. I know you can also can and fry green tomatoes, but what else? Any suggestions? I'm wide open to them!

Birthday Burgers

A. had very different food tastes when we first met. As a compulsive gym rat and former competitive weightlifter, his main focus was low fat, high protein. So, he thought canned tuna and a protein shake were perfectly acceptable meals. And then I came along and ruined it. He can't even look at canned tuna anymore, although the protein shakes do reappear every now and then.

I'll admit to being a bit of a gym junkie myself, and I'm all for the high-protein-low-fat diet, so one of the things I introduced A. to early on was the HPLF version of the traditional burger: the turkey burger. Much healthier. And, over the years, I've played with and tweaked the recipe quite a bit, depending on what I have in my fridge. The harissa I picked up in London has been a staple all summer, and I've started adding a hint of chili powder to give the burgers a slight kick at the end. The burgers I made last night, I have to admit, were pretty damn good, which is especially good, because they were the burgers A. specially requested for his birthday. I think it's a recipe I'll keep.

Birthday Burgers

1 lb ground turkey
1/2 onion, diced
1 tsp harissa
1/2 tsp chili powder
salt and pepper to taste

Combine all ingredients in a bowl and mix well. Divide into four pieces. Take each piece and form into a ball. Toss the ball between your hands to really bring the meat together (an old trick I learned from my great aunt when making meatballs. Her meatballs never crumbled in the sauce). Pat each ball down into a patty. Grill until cooked through.

We usually serve these on whole wheat buns with sriracha or, as we did last night, horseradish mustard from our local Amish market. Feel free to pile on the toppings of your choice, anything goes!

Dinner in the Field

Fall is almost here--It's almost palpable. Corny as it sounds, I could feel it in the air when I stepped outside yesterday afternoon. Although it was 80+ degrees, there was the tiniest edge to the air; a slight tang. It'll be here soon enough, and boy, does that make me happy. I love fall. Especially fall in my little corner of the world. Walkable historic towns with Victorian architecture lend themselves beautifully to fall foliage, as do the views of the Delaware River from the New Hope-Lambertville bridge.

On Sunday, A. and I had a pretty unique opportunity to celebrate the coming of the new season: a harvest dinner in the fields at Dreyer Farms in Cranford (another picturesque little town). The dinner was catered by the chef of Boulevard Five72, using produce from the farm. This one dinner was the best possible commercial for both the farm and the restaurant. It's too bad both are more than an hour from where I live, or I'd be there all the time. Then again, for the sake of my bank account, maybe that's a good thing.

First off, the weather actually cooperated, after several days of rain, cold, and gloomy skies. The sun came out, and the temperature went up to the 80's, which meant the sangria served during the cocktail hour were doubly refreshing. Ditto the champagne, which I really can't resist. Passed hors d'oeuvres included smoked salmon tartlets, wonderful polenta cakes with ratatouille (the polenta was perfect--crispy outside, and moist within. My hat is off to them), and sublime tempura-battered green beans. I really, really want to track down a recipe for those and make them for A's birthday party this week.

As the sun set and the mosquitos mercifully stayed away, we moved to the long table that had been set up between rows of basil and salad greens. By chance, I found myself sitting in the midst of the Dreyer family, who have farmed this same plot of land since 1904. Paterfamilias Henry Dreyer, who sat across from me, was a great dinner companion, and we chattered away through all four courses, covering everything from tomato blight to what to do on a visit to Quebec City.

Like the hors d'oeuvres, the main meal didn't disappoint. We moved from a lovely light salad to a prawn served on heirloom tomatoes and watermelon, followed by veal with sweet potato puree and an almond tart with Jersey peaches for dessert. Not a single thing disappointed, and the flavors were lovely. And so were the wines served with each course. Maybe the wines were too good--I did wake up with the slightest headache on Monday morning. Still, definitely worth it. Now, I'm off to try and find that green bean recipe. Wish me luck!

Jersey Fresh Cocktails

Food-wise, I have to say, this past weekend was a good one in our house. And it started, brilliantly, with some excellent cocktails A. and I whipped up on Friday evening to toast the start of the three-day weekend.

I came home from the farm last week with some lovely blackberries, which A. is addicted to. As it turns out, if you like your cocktails tart rather than sweet, a blackberry is a great fruit for it. A. had already made one prototype of a blackberry martini by the time I got home from the grocery store and Asian market, laden with goodies (including the superb clams that became our dinner). His first attempt, while good, was a work in progress. I suggested adding a hint of lime, which I thought would pair nicely with the blackberry flavor. Incidentally, we also had an insane number of limes we had to use up. So, we juiced one, mixed it up, and tried again. Not bad, but now a little too tart, even for me. A little simple syrup set that right, and we had an excellent cocktail.

As he headed out to grill up dinner, leaving me with little more to do in the kitchen than sip my yummy  new drink, A. asked me to mix him a cocktail and to "surprise him". Never one to disappoint, I dove into the fridge and came out with a pint of blueberries from the Asian market and some seltzer water. There were mint leaves soaking in a small jar on the kitchen counter (another contribution from the farm) and some white rum on hand, so I thought I'd give a blueberry mojito a try. A. tried it and pronounced it a success. Both drinks have now joined the Earl Grey MarTEAni in our drinks recipe file.

Blackberry-Lime Martini
5-6 large, ripe blackberries
1 1/2-2 oz vodka
juice of 1/2 lime
1-2 T simple syrup (depending on how tart you want this)

Smash blackberries with a muddler or mortar and pestle. Add smashed berries, vodka, lime juice, simple syrup, and ice cubes to a cocktail shaker.

Shake vigorously for 15 seconds. Strain into a martini glass.

Blueberry Mojito
1/4 cup ripe blueberries
1 1/2-2 oz white rum
1 tsp sugar
6-10 mint leaves
Seltzer water
Ice cubes

Place blueberries, sugar, mint leaves in a highball glass and muddle until the leaves are broken down, the blueberries are juiced, and everything's mixed together (we found that the end of a wooden rolling pin works great for this).  Add ice cubes and rum. Top with seltzer and mix everything together briefly.

Garnish with a mint leaf and enjoy!

Perfect Polenta

One of the things I like most about belonging to our CSA farm is that it essentially forces me to cook according to what's really in season, the way people used to. I'm a history buff, so I enjoy that and occasionally pretend I'm Laura Ingalls Wilder, tramping through the fields to get dinner. It also makes you use your imagination. You have no idea how many different things you can do with a tomato until you have three pounds of heirlooms, plus a pound and a half of cherry tomatoes on your hands.

Last night, I put those tomatoes to good work in a dish that would have made my Italian forbears proud: spicy tomatoes with shrimp and mussels, served over homemade polenta.

Polenta's a wonderful thing, and it's incredibly easy to make, which makes me wonder why the heck I ever spent upwards of $4 on the ready made stuff when I could have just bought $2 worth of cornmeal and made about 20 times as much of it at home. Like pasta, it's versatile and can be served as a side dish on its own, mixed or sprinkled with cheese or jalapenos to give it a kick, or covered with some kind of sauce, like we did last night. You can have it soft, like grits, or let it harden and slice it up to toss on the grill or in a pan. This also makes me feel Laura Ingalls Wilder-ish--what we call polenta she called Cornmeal Mush in her books. I think polenta sounds nicer.

Polenta A La Bree

1/2 onion

1 cup cornmeal (course ground works best)

Olive oil

salt and pepper

1. Saute the onion in the olive oil until it just turns translucent and starts to release its flavor, about 5 minutes. Set aside to cool slightly.

2. In a large saucepan, stir together 1 cup of water, the cornmeal, and 1 tsp. salt. Add the cooled onion. Stirring constantly, add 2 cups boiling water.

3. Turn on the burner under the saucepan to medium heat. Cook the polenta, stirring constantly, until it's thickened and comes away from the sides of the saucepan. Taste and season.

**If you like, you can fold in some parmesan or pecorino romano cheese, or sprinkle the cheese of your choice over the top of the warm polenta. Serve warm immediately, or spread in a greased brownie pan and let cool. Cut into slices and grill or saute.

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!