Recent Foodsville publications

Bi-Regional, North/South Local Food.

pinkney@meadandmikell.com — Sat, 11 Oct 2008 20:48:19

    I frequently complain about the lack of local produce in my old home state of South Carolina, about how a place that once produced some of the finest vegetables in the world and shipped them off to the northeast markets, can’t seem to come up with a tomato grown locally or a cucumber or onion these days because Agribusiness has put the small local producers out of business by selling every kind of formerly local food cheaper than local farmers can produce it.

   Contrast this situation with the local food scene in NY, my current home state, and it’s enough to make one weep. Over flowing farmer’s markets and green markets operate all year round. South Carolina is a surprising place, however, and every so often something unexpected and wonderful happens on the food scene. In Columbia there is Caw Caw Creek Farms with Emile DeFelice’s pastured pork and southern style prosciutto hams. Emile has breakfast sausage that’s to die for, bacon that renders enough fat from a pound to fry a couple of chickens and magnificent chops and roasts.

   There is also Michael Cordray’s Cordray Farms in Ravenel. This farm has been around for a hundred or so years according to the web site, but I met Michael because, like many small farmers, he has a sideline business; he runs an excellent deer processing plant and many of us drive by a couple of other processors to get our venison put up by the best. Michael also produces some beef cattle. Usually by the time I am getting my venison done he has sold out of his beef, but I was there a week or so ago – early for me – and his cooler was full of beef and the sign “Beef’s Ready” was still out on the main entrance. Michael’s beef is pastured beef with some grain finishing. I like to avoid grain fed animals if possible, but I thought to try some of the beef.

   The site states, "Since we provide beef from a limited number of small family farms our quantities are very limited. We process only a few cattle a year. It takes about 2 years for a steer to mature. We are slowly increasing our herd, planning now for the 2010 season! As you'll see when you come to visit, our cows graze at will on grass and hay. We grind our own feed from locally grown corn, soybean meal and molasses to help "finish" them during the last few months. They never receive injections, antibiotics, artificial growth hormones or anything that cattle didn't get 100 years ago when Cordrays first started raising all natural beef."

   I was delighted to find that he had several packages of short ribs. He labels them Beef Rib Stew so maybe they aren’t exactly short ribs even though that’s what they look like. I bought three of the five packages there and hauled them back to NY with the deer cuts he had put up for me. We are having dinner guests tonight and I thought to serve them something entirely seasonal and more or less local (to me anyway with my peregrinations back and forth).

   I seasoned the meat with salt and pepper and a little smoked paprika and then rolled the pieces in flour and browned them on all sides. I put them aside and sautéed a mess of finely chopped vegetables – all local from the Hastings Farmer’s Market (carrots, celery, tomatoes and leaks). The pan got a little degreasing with some left over American white wine and then I added in some home made beef stock from the freezer. I put the beef back in the pot with everything and brought it back to simmer and slammed it in the oven for two hours. When finished, I removed the meat; discarded the bones and put the liquids through a food mill and put the meat back in and let it rest. I did taste it, though, I can honestly say that these are as good as any short ribs I ever made.

   Michael has – or had when I was there – just about all the cuts a cow can be separated into. Like I said, he sells out pretty quickly and now I know why. If there is anything left when I get back, I’ll get some more. I have an eye round roast that I intend to do the slow cook way mentioned here. I’m not going to report Cordray's prices because he doesn’t charge enough for what he sells. Besides, he posts the prices on his site. I don't think he ships so a visit is required.

   South Carolina is coming on strong in the proteins – pigs and beef. It’s only a matter of time before someone starts making with the vegetables. There are many folks in the low country and right on up through the low mountains of western SC that know good food and would appreciate being able to buy it – especially locally grown. I hope, while SC is still somewhat under developed and farmers can still afford land to farm, that the remaining farmers find a way to return to growing some of the most nutritious and tasty food in America and selling it locally.

MARYLAND STYLE CRAB CAKES

chef4cook@yahoo.com — Sat, 11 Oct 2008 18:16:08

This recipe is my favorite. It has very little filler and has a wonderful clean crab flavor. Just be careful not to break up the lumps when folding and forming. I have prepared crabcakes using all kinds of different vegetable combinations over the years but I prefer to use shallots instead of onions and I don't sweat or saute my vegetables either.

Save the Bees

brokrbaby@yahoo.com — Sat, 11 Oct 2008 18:04:09

Did you know that every third bite of food we eat depends on bees for pollination? You might not have given much thought to the role honeybees play in our ecosystem. But fact is, 30% of the fruit- and vegetable-producing plants we rely on to feed our families need honeybee pollination to thrive. That’s why the mysterious disappearance of honeybees known as Colony Collapse Disorder is a critical environmental issue that must be understood and reversed for The Greater Good.

What is Colony Collapse Disorder?

Colony Collapse Disorder is the sudden die-off of honeybee colonies that has been occurring across the U.S. for several years now. The bee disappearance is so widespread that it is blamed for losses of up to 70% of the managed bee colonies in U.S. beekeeping operations. Estimates show that 23% of commercial beekeeping operations in the U.S, suffered from Colony Collapse Disorder in the winter of 2006-2007.

What can you do? Don't panic. Educate yourself. If you're not a beekeeper, please appreciate the bees in our environment. Spread the word about the benefits of bees. Support research and Extension efforts to promote the health of honey bees. Or learn to keep bees yourself.

Linda Ayer's Fruit Salad

jjbbrrdd@yahoo.com — Fri, 10 Oct 2008 00:04:05

Get ready to do some chopping, but WAIT...this salad is so delicious. I had it at a party at Linda's house one Christmas. She just made it up in her head, so I named it after her. This combination of fruits are just delicious. Remember to wait to add bananas until just before serving.

Veni Vidi Vino

franchiseremedies@sbcglobal.net — Thu, 09 Oct 2008 09:27:40

The greatest wine in the world is the wine that you’re drinking right now!

Think about that!

Why is that?

Maybe it is so simply because you are still here to drink it. Maybe it is so because it is the wine you chose to drink. Maybe other wines would be found to be more to your liking, but they are not now available to you for any of numerous reasons. The rationale is that connoisseurship is personal to each of us in varying degrees of competence, but if we have any capabilities in that vein at all, we recognize that gratitude is part of the equation. We are grateful to be here and to be able to enjoy this glass of wine, and that sense of thanksgiving, of saying grace, makes this glass of wine the very best wine in the entire world at this moment.

Wine symbolizes the best that is in and of us. When God decided that the world was so pervasively evil that humanity needed to be destroyed, all save one, it was Noah the vintner who was chosen to be saved. It was Noah the vintner who was placed in charge of the innocents of the earth, the animals, and through whose story we are first taught the meaning of stewardship. (Genesis 6 – 9) This association of wine with greatness and divine mercy, with the hope of a restored position on the road to a cosmic Christ signifies the mysticism and the grace, the elevated and enlightened state for which we are grateful when we enjoy wine. It is a magic elixir in the finest sense of magic.

What would the mystery of wine be without that sense of joy and gratitude? There is romance in wine, without which it would not be what wine really is – something decidedly more than a fruit drink. We love the wine somewhat as we love each other. Loving the wine and each other at the same moment elevates both experiences. Without the mystery, it is only a chemical compound. Mystery is what removes any experience from the mundane to the sublime. Mystery abstracts the physicality of what we are doing and imbues it with aura.

We drink wine here out of Goomba glasses, small glasses without stems, glasses that the Sicilians and Greeks use when they convene in their taverns. When you remove the artifices from the wine experience, it is just you and the wine and the person with whom you are enjoying it. The experience is pure and mystical for being pure. Gilding that lily with mise en scene gimmicks cannot counterfeit the mystery if the person does not experience the mystery simply from the wine and the company. Artifice is merely pretense. Having the wine with food is not artifice, for the sustenance is also a “real” need fulfilling resource for which there must also be thanksgiving.

Make no mistake. I like good bullshit, perhaps more than I should. In fact I thrive on good bullshit, bullshit for the sake of bullshit – ars gratia artis. All my friends will gleefully confirm that, in the instance of myself, the conflict between reason and testosterone usually ends with testosterone being the victor. But this vignette isn’t about my sessions with good bullshit. It is another story. It is a serious story, albeit you may well find the occasional aside for the sake of a chuckle or for irony.

Wine is, in another dimension, about imprimatur. The gradations of wine, the producers of wine, the sellers of wine all use imprimatur to differentiate, and in that manner to assign comparative value (or at least comparative price). Nations have specific statutes to establish and enforce imprimatur – appellation controlee – denominazione d’origine controlata, &c. Beyond that, however, the simple fact that one appreciates wine is in itself a form of imprimatur. Alas, to the simple and shallow, it is a perspective not used to its high purpose, but rather used to denigrate and to self promote – “We’re the sweet elected few. The rest of you be damned.” That mantra has been chanted for ions by people who lack the ability to appreciate that the only proper expression concerning one’s perceived good fortune is gratitude, not hubris. There are no chosen people. There, in good status or in bad, but for the grace of God, go we. And the grace of God has to be earned. It is not bestowed as one might expect a trophy for winning a wet tee shirt contest. But that is another discussion. Why one would use the fact that they are fortunate enough to be able to appreciate wine as a platform from which to look down on those who don’t/can’t, instead of simply focusing on their good fortune and going forward with that as best they can, is beyond me, but not worth the effort to learn about.

Part of me – the bullshit part of me – would really love to have a room devoted to wine. That room would be chock a block with wine bottles, sectioned off and identified with the wood case ends that identify more expensive wines. What I actually drink comes in cardboard shipping cases. That room would also be adorned with art depicting scenes from viticulture and gastronomy. There would be a small corner library on the subject of wine. There would be a look and feel of a wine cellar. It would be a veritable chapel for the appreciation/adoration of vitis vinifera and the pleasures that abound in that pursuit. The room would also accommodate a small assembly for dining. A meal in such a room is like taking communion. It is bullshit of a grand manner, and, as I said, I like good bullshit.

Reality is that I get to enjoy wine while I am cooking. I am standing at my battery, armed with pots, pans, grills, burners, ovens, utensils and ingredients, sipping my wine of the moment, and happily concocting some plat du jour for the delectation of my true love, humming or singing as I go, and sipping some delicious and pedestrian wine that suits my gloriously happy mood. How lucky can a person be? Reality is sometimes also a visit with friends, discussing what comes to mind, serious or not, and enjoying wine and antipasto, usually with fresh baked bread, still warm from the ovens.

I love my reality.

Today is Thanksgiving Day 2004 – an exclusively American holiday. It celebrates the establishment of the Massachusetts Bay Colony – you know – the landing of the Pilgrims on Plymouth Rock &c. We’ve all heard the story ad nauseam. Inasmuch as it is a weekday on which Belinda has a day off from work – a joyous occasion – there is a celebratory air. Accordingly, I chose a “special” wine for tonight’s dinner – a Cote D’Or Aloxe Corton blended by that fantastic negotiant eleveur Louis Latour. There are but a few truly great negotiants eleveurs in the Beaune wine trade. They are Latour, Drouhin, Bouchard, Mommesin, and one or two others whose names do not come to mind as I write this. They all produce what we call pinot noir blends of world renown. Personally, the greatest wine I have ever enjoyed was the 1970 bottling of Clos St. Denis (Domaine Dujac) – just up the road a few miles. The 1970 Clos de Vougeot was also memorable and a product of the only real chateau of the Burgundian region. That region is unlike the Bordeaux area in that it is but a fraction of the geographic size, and produces but a third (if that) of the volume of fine wine that the Bordeaux region produces. Through the centuries the land has become so split up that hardly anyone owns enough land to consider themselves a chateau wine producing establishment. Accordingly the small landowners send their harvests to be combined and blended by negotiants eleveurs in the city of Beaune into the great Burgundian wines. Louis Latour is one of those.

I chose his Aloxe Corton because I recall enjoying it with lunch right after I visited his (and numerous others’) establishments in the fall of 1976. That is the last time that I tasted it, but I have a phenomenal palatal recollection, and I recall to this day precisely what all the wines I enjoyed on that trip tasted like. They were phenomenal, albeit young.

It is now almost thirty years later, and the point of this recounting of palatal history is that in the interim I had the privilege to enjoy hundreds of wines of truly delicious vinification, from numerous regions of the world.

On that visit to Beaune in 1976 there was a grand WOW factor. Thirty years later, having learnt the more expansive lessons of wine appreciation across a broader area of this planet, that WOW factor wasn’t present this evening. The Aloxe Corton was actually a down scale experience. I enjoyed a better tasting wine at luncheon today by pulling a cork out of a bottle of Stags Leap Petite Syrah from the Napa Valley in California.

I made a vow today that I would not again select anything from Europe at the approximate price of $ 35 a bottle, because the Stags Leap Petite Syrah at $ 25 and the Ridge Lytton Springs Zinfandel at $ 35 are infinitely more delicious, richer, deeper, more lush – in fact, exquisite. At that price level nothing beats the California opportunities if one shops carefully. The WOW factor of Aloxe Corton has a diminished coefficient of elasticity – it had not survived the interim years during which I promiscuously enjoyed so many wines of so many varieties from so many parts of the world. Maybe the WOW was in part the product of my being so much younger and more impressionable. Maybe it was in part just being there where the wine is produced and being caught up in the fall wine festival atmosphere of Beaune. Inasmuch as French wines are so vastly overpriced anyway, I am giving thanks for the blessing of being here where American wines are so incredibly wonderful as well as favourably priced in comparison to the French offerings. Only the Rhone varietals remain within the ambit of what I still appreciate amongst the French wines. And tonight’s Stags Leap petite syrah was the equal of any of them. The two are but different clones of the same varietal that was originally brought from Shiraz Persia to the Rhone Valley during the second Albergentian Crusade in the twelfth century.

There should be some way other than the disgusting and useless tasting notes of pedestrian wine yuppies to preserve the library of palatal recollections that people like myself have accumulated over so many years of enjoying the wines of the world. On the other hand, it would be only an archivist exercise, and of no practical use considering my major premise here – that the best glass of wine in the world is the glass of wine that I am enjoying now, at this moment. Remembering what the Aloxe Corton tasted like in 1976 didn’t help me to appreciate the Stags Leap petite syrah. It only helped me understand how underwhelming the Aloxe Corton has become in the context of my experience in the interim. Had I not sought to relive the oenological thrill of Aloxe Corton, I could have continued to remember it as wonderful. You must always move forward, as you can never retrieve a “moment” – moments are fleeting. The entire “lets make tasting notes” movement is but another way to extract money from yuppie anal compulsives who drink wine for the social imprimatur more than for the taste and the ambient circumstances. He who dies with the most wine tasting notes wins, I suppose. The principal problem with attending any function of such people is that they all show up wearing enough cologne to frighten mosquitoes away. It is impossible to sense/assess/appreciate the aroma of the wine through the clouds of Prada and Chanel.

They wear this stuff because they have been duped into thinking that cologne is something that stimulates sexuality in the opposite gender, a sort of pheromone. How utterly ridiculous. But there again, someone has come up with a way to extract money from the stupid/ignorant yuppie mentality. Soap and water works just fine for real people.

Pheromonal stimulation occurs mainly amongst insects and animals. A sow assumes the coital position when she smells the hog’s breath. That’s something Clint Eastwood understood when he named his saloon in Carmel, California, The Hog’s Breath Saloon. DUH! What did you think Hogsbreath referred to – motorcycles? HAHAHAHA! Pheromonal protocols assign duties and give direction to assignments in ant colonies and bee hives. Pheromones stimulate appetite, but the stimulation is so subtle that no modern ultra clean over cologned American or European would recognize a pheromone if inundated in a cloud of pheromones. Let me give you an example of how pheromones work.

Several hundred years ago it was the custom amongst the “upper crust” to pass a bowl of something cold at mid meal – cleansing the palate for the next course was the announced purpose. Utter nonsense then, just as it is when pretentiously done today. When it was done way back then, it was absolutely necessary for its effectiveness to stimulate appetite that the cold bowl of whatever it was be passed by a teenage girl, preferably a virgin – except that teenage virgins are so hard to find – with her arms bare and no adornment in her hair. Her proximity when passing the bowl produced pheromonal experiences amongst the diners, not the contents of the bowl.

I am of the opinion - and I am not alone here – that as for the human female, her sexual signals cannot be evaluated by reference to farm animals and insects. What cologne you wear, and how much of it you inundate yourself with, will not get you sex. The human female is too cerebral for total olfactory sexual responses to get her there. Pheromonal influences don’t suffice. Forgetaboutit!

While the human female has her sexual requirements and proclivities, to be sure, other considerations – especially in an urban setting – will carry greater influence. Considerations of a man’s character and personality, his values and potentiality as a prospective mate and caregiver carry greater weight in any context except purely recreational sexual intimacy. In addition, it is a mistake to think that some mise en scene behavior or aroma – especially out of a cologne bottle – is likely to stimulate sexual urges. That’s just advertising bullshit. If you really want to start a woman on the road to intimacy, learn to cook. The aroma most likely to lead to sexual intimacy is a great sauce, meats roasting with herbs, spices and garlic, soups and stews that infer warmth and generous secure wellbeing. It doesn’t stimulate sexuality, but it does stimulate sensuality. Sensuality is a perception of wellbeing sufficient to permit and elicit a letting down of the guard, a relaxed and secure comfort level that enables –not compels – a woman to move in the direction of desire. A reasonably clean, very nice, caring and sincere male who can cook can make it in torn walking shorts and a pullover shirt with food stains on it. The aromas that arise in a well worked kitchen will go a lot farther to getting a man to yes than any perfume, an expensive wardrobe, an expensive automobile, a Rolex watch or any of the other trappings marketed to yuppie imbeciles. And taking a woman out to eat, while occasionally welcome and enjoyable, is nothing compared to being able to feed her at home – yours or her’s, it doesn’t matter – with a grand meal that was prepared entirely by you. And if you really want to score points, let it be you who cleans up after dinner.

As a chef, I recommend to any man who wants to add this capability to his life repertoire, that he develop about six dishes that he can really prepare wonderfully, without having to have a recipe card or cookbook in front of him – just do it over and over until it is as commonplace as pulling on your boots. This won’t work if you’re a one trick pony. You don’t want to become known as Mr. Beef Stew. I suggest the following for beginners: Roast Chicken (herbs, garlic, lemons, spices, olive oil (always put lots of garlic and herbes de province in the cavity of a chicken – the aroma while it’s roasting may be the only aphrodisiac) – roast it on a bed of sliced onions and sliced lemons with a touch of water or stock in the bottom of the pan); Beef Burgundy with mushrooms and capers; minestrone soup with escarole, grated parmigiano reggiano and crusty bread (a meal in itself – nothing else needed); pasta and meatballs made from scratch (see my recipe in Homage to Meatballs); a great Nicoise salad with crusty bread (also a meal in itself); shrimps creole; cioppino (a seafood stew a la Portugais). All these recipes can be reached on the Internet at www.recipesource.com . When you have mastered these, you are ready for a level of romance of which you never even dreamed in your wildest imagination. If you’re dessert people, it’s perfectly alright to buy dessert. A fruit tart or a Sacher torte with champagne for dessert is magical. For not more than $ 25, you can buy a really delicious California champagne.

There are no rules for the wines you enjoy with meals. Drink what you like. Red wine goes great with seafood, and white wine goes great with anything as well.

Ok. Now that you understand how this all works, the spirituality of it, the contexts in which it all may be put to its highest and best use, get your sorry butt out there and appreciate everything.

Older Women - Younger Wine

franchiseremedies@sbcglobal.net — Thu, 09 Oct 2008 08:53:53

It is amazing what tricks of temptation your will plays on you when you approach the age of 70 years. If you have been fortunate enough to have enjoyed robust health throughout your life, as have I, your psyche resists acceptance of the aging process. It wants to continue to do the things you enjoyed when you were much younger. It’s just one of the tasks that must be mastered, part of the price that must be paid for all those years of good fortune. I am physically the strongest person I know in my age group, but that means I would have to reach back into the younger population if I decided to aggrandize the inclinations that continue to assert themselves daily in my life. Every day fresh, ripe, luscious pluckables present themselves like produce in a market stall. It seems like it is always harvest time. Even a Parker House roll reminds me of female anatomy, and eating a taco is …… well…… what can I say? Did God make women to remind us of tacos, or did God make tacos to remind us of women? Would you name your daughter Medjool, hoping that she would grow up to be a great date? In high school I wanted to go out with the new Moroccan girl because I heard she put raisins into her tagine. Then I looked up the word tagine and learnt that it wasn’t part of anyone’s anatomy. The fantasies are endless.

I don’t want to do that for numerous reasons. While it would bring back many cheap thrills, it would cost me all the things that I treasure. Fortunately, I have daily reminders of how lucky I am, and this helps my intellect to deal properly with my opportunistic inclinations. It is a struggle to deal properly with seasonality. I understand what Jimmy Carter meant when he said that he lusts in his heart. This is the fall of my life, not the summer and not even the autumn. I may even be a tad delusional for thinking of it as fall and not as winter.

Whenever I think of the urges that are exerting themselves, I also am able to think back on moments when I observed other older men following the same urge. How ridiculous they looked. How everyone laughed at them and their out of season relationships, and the terrible stories of how so many of those relationships really worked and did not work. I recall vividly the stories of their performance anxiety with those younger women, and their paranoia about what the younger women in their lives might be doing with other younger men behind their back, most of which concerns were justified because that’s exactly what the women did. The supposed youth restoring surgeries and the awful and obvious hairpieces more frequently than not produced a macabre, freak show appearance rather than anything youthful and vibrant.

There are other natural rewards of this age. Whatever may happen to your other abilities, your gastronomic pleasures more than compensate for any off peak moments. The olfactory senses become sharper. If you don’t smoke or have awful allergies, everything tastes really grand.

One thing new is that no one my age who is not an idiot is laying down young wines for improvement over significant periods of “aging”. I never did that anyway, but I know many who did, and a few who dropped dead before they got to taste what they were treasuring. Wine is something to drink, not something to worship. I have one friend in New Orleans who accumulated a bloody fortune in “fine wines”. His living room wall was completely covered by a bank of especially climatised storage/display cabinetry, all of which failed when hurricane Katrina blew threw town. Moreover, he has a bad heart and lives on pills. Why, I remonstrated with him, are you saving this stuff? You surely aren’t saving it for yourself. Drink it before you leave the scene on very short notice and this treasure trove is wasted on some younger man/men by your widow. Hell, I said to him, I might start courting your widow myself just to get at that wine. After the hurricane, he did start drinking it. He is a happier man for that. I hope he gets to drink every last drop.

As for myself, I have had the grandest time searching out young wines that are delicious now and that do not need further nurturing. As these younger and absolutely delicious vintages do not enjoy a cult following, they are amazingly reasonable in price. Of course the price is also affected by where you buy wine. Here in Houston we have Spec’s. Spec’s is the best mode model for how to run a retail booze, beer and wine retail chain. The selection is universal and the prices are the best anywhere. Spec’s makes Houston a wino’s heaven. Of course, if you’re an imbecile and want to patronize the new groovy bozo in town who claims that he “hand selects” the wine he sells, why that’s your loss. How stupid do you have to be to recognize that “hand selected wines” is total bullshit, and not even good bullshit. Now if he said that he selected wines with other parts of his anatomy, that might be a viable promotional statement worth paying the higher prices for. But since his message is addressed to yuppie idiots, “hand selected” must convey to a yuppie idiot that something special just happened and that if he shows up there, he might just get in on the trend.

The trend amongst the winery refineries these days is to make wines that used to be kept for aging ready to drink with some semblance of maturity at an earlier date – hopefully even on the date the wines hit the stores. Maybe market research is telling the vintners that there are lots of people out there who share my opinion about buying wines that are not to be touched for several years. All markets change. All trends expire. What was WOW last year is not WOW any more. Somehow, though, I do seem to have missed out on the generosity of securities underwriters, investment bankers and broker-dealers who used to (and for all I know still do) order from Sherry-Lehman in New York City those
$ 100,000 per case presents of La Tache, Richebourg, Grands Echezeaux and Romanee-Conti as gifts for those who sent them underwritings business and issue allotments for initial public offerings and much sought after secondary offerings. DAMN!

The process of democratizing wine may have reached its farthest possible point of penetration in the reputed new arrangement between Wal-Mart and Ernest and Julio Gallo. According to today’s report of the venture, Gallo will produce a “wine” for Wal-Mart to sell at retail for between $ 2 and $ 5 per bottle/can/box. If they have a name-that-wine contest, I will submit Chateau Sam. At that price it will free the winos who live in our gutters from high priced exploitation by such highly advertised vinifications as Thunder Bird, Nature Boy, MD-20-20, and all the other snooty tanglefoot stuff that is now purchased mainly at convenience stores in tough neighborhoods. I hope that Wal-Mart has done some demographic estimates of the incremental population of down-and-outers who will now be hanging out in and around their stores and arrange for appropriate security resources. Some Wal-Mart shoppers may have a tough time trying to identify with/not be scared off by the Chateau Sam crowd. No doubt the pandering in Wal-Mart parking lots will increase as the Chateau Sam devotees aggressively seek to accumulate sufficient coin of the realm to afford their daily tipple. Right now the demographics of the Wal-Mart customer group consist of rather good folks who are not careless with money. We have been spared the unpleasantness of the trip to Wal-Mart including the need to run a gauntlet of aggressive, disease ridden and often dangerously psychotic winos. With that customer profile now about to be in abundance, Wal-Mart can now rent kiosk space to AA and to various local Save-A-Soul Mission organizations. Maybe that’s what they had in mind anyway – renting space to AA and their ilk but not yet having sufficient drunken bum traffic for those potential tenants to justify the rent. If you look long and hard enough, you can recognize the genius at work here. I suppose I will now hear angrily from the National Association for the Advancement of Dangerously Psychotic Winos about my unenlightened point of view.

Changing the subject, one should always strive to be aware of the context of any situation – who are the people amongst whom you find yourself – what are they accustomed to – what do they think they are entitled to by way of consideration. If you know that and think about it, you will never walk into a dinner party with the wrong wine. Even if you are dining with Hurricane Katrina evacuees beneath some freeway overpass, you will now be able to bring along the status appropriate Chateau Sam. The wrong wine is either wine that is beneath the dignity of the host or, conversely, wine that is beyond the experience of the host. Always shoot for a wine that is just a tad – but not a lot - better than the host is used to. If the host is a real oenophile, bring flowers. Be sure that you know the wine that you bring. You should have enjoyed it; know what it goes with best; know where it sits in its variety and genre; and be able to discuss it knowledgeably. Never walk in and be unable to discuss it – never say that it is just something that the clerk at the wine store suggested or recommended. That’s like wearing a shirt that says “I am stupid – DUH!” If you can’t handle that, bring flowers.

Possum Trot Tropical Fruit Farm

possumplentious@Yahoo.com — Tue, 07 Oct 2008 23:49:26

In South Dade County Florida next door to the Monkey Jungle a living museum of tropical trees which produce products usable to man grows quietly amidst the urban blight rapidly expanding toward it. Over 300 different fruit, spice, beverage, timber and poison trees grow in a jungle like planting. I am Robert Barnum owner and manager for the last 30 years. I have hopes of tapping into the slow foods efforts to educate the public in the cultivation and preparation of fruits and vegetables by chefs for enjoyment by the public. I have developed multicultural cuisine using unusual tropical fruits, beverages, and spices grown on the farm. Also for the 30 year period of time I have produced wines from the various fruits; bignay from Africa, lychee from subtropical Asia, jaboticaba and relatives from Brazil, and carambola from tropical Asia. Many of my cooking skills have come from watching cooking shows on public television. I also watch and ask cooks that prepare foods in the many tropical countries I have visited and worked in throughout the hemisphere to learn local methods of preparation for eating of the fruits and vegetables. One of my favorite TV chefs is Jamie Oliver the naked chef from London. His techniques in the kitchen most closely resemble mine. Not necessarily neat but effective. I believe in substance over style with fresh and properly prepared ingredients with multiple layering of flavors and textures to engage as many of our senses as possible usually producing agreeable results from those enjoying the cooking.

"It’s a Long Road to a Tomato Tales of an organic farmer who quit the big city for the (not so) simple life" By Keith Stewart With illustrations by Flavia Bacarella

pinkney@meadandmikell.com — Sun, 05 Oct 2008 14:49:23

    My dear one brings me all sorts of books to read. Lately she has been supplying me with books about organic farming and out of the way things like ‘fat. A Misunderstood Ingredient’, and ‘Mrs. Whaley’s Kitchen’. A couple of weeks ago she brought home Keith Stewart’s, ‘It’s a Long Way to a Tomato’ and Tim Stark’s ‘Heirloom, Notes From an Accidental Tomato Farmer’. I love both of these books and plan to write about Starks book in another piece, but I just finished reading ‘Long Road to a Tomato’ while on Edisto Island, former home to the world’s best tomatoes and now barren of any locally grown tomatoes what-so-ever.

    I thought to write about this book first because while Stewart doesn’t really grow lots of tomatoes in comparison with other vegetables he is a true organic farmer in the old, pre ‘gummit’ certified ways. He maintains the official U S Organic designation despite the expense and paper work while many small farmers simply can’t afford to comply – or don’t want to spend the time to do the paperwork to comply - with all that government certification involves. Some say the older standards were better while being less onerous and it isn’t hard to see the hand of agribusiness behind the complex gummit certification.

    I chose to start with this book for a couple of reasons and recommend it for several specific essays that appeal to me. It is, by the way, a series of essays each about two pages long and easier and more informative to read by tackling one a day or every other day or when ever the organic food mood strikes. It isn’t something that one wants to sit down to and read cover to cover. You could, but much would be lost.

    The essays take on different aspects of Mr. Stewart’s life as an organic farmer. The pieces can make one want to get right down to the Union Square Farmers Market for his garlic and herbs or drive one to despair over the fate of small scale, local and/or organic farming and farmers. New York City has always been fortunate in the variety of fresh local foods available in its markets. We have exotic food and down home goods in abundance, but the last twenty years have seen the growth of extensive farmers markets supplying local vegetables and meats directly to the city and this very proximity helps explain some of the problems that the small local farmer faces.

    He has to be near enough to the city to sell fresh foods directly to the public at retail prices. He doesn’t produce enough to be viable in the low margin, high volume food biz and so he has to have a local market willing and able to pay the higher prices required to produce the higher quality local goods. As urban areas expand the farm economy has to move further away from the city in order to afford land to grow on. That land is almost always valued more as housing tracts than small farms. So we go around and around and loose small farms and production to agribusiness far from markets and now are able to buy gummit certified ‘organic’ – of sorts – produce from the A&P.

    The essays run from the early optimistic, “Today I am a farmer, a grower of organic vegetables and herbs, and I can honestly say that I am a happier man.” To the, “My plan is to keep living on this farm until I am no longer able to – perhaps ten more years, perhaps twenty, whatever portion destiny allots me. But I doubt that I will last much longer as the sole driving force of a productive vegetable operation.” Along the way are essays about chickens, weather, farmer’s markets and the efforts necessary to be part of them, knives, dogs, rabbits, tomatoes, potatoes, dairy farmers and my favorite - an excellent tutorial on tractors –“ A man and his Tractor”.

    “To take on this land with just hand tools would be a very daunting task. A dozen men with shovels and picks might put in a week of hard labor to accomplish what I can do with a tractor and a rototiller in a couple of hours…. “ Under the tasks assigned to each of the three farm tractors is, “Restoration of self-esteem when confronted with the limitations of an aging body and other insults of time.” This is a facet of tractor ownership I can well identify with.

    While we in America enjoy an abundance, some would say a gross excess, of cheap, high calorie foodstuffs it is exciting to read and learn about local farmers and their products. It is also daunting to consider their large investment and the low return they receive for their efforts. We don’t eat seasonally these days, what with produce transported sometimes thousands of miles. We can – in NY – get pretty much anything year round. It’s summer somewhere every day. Much of this food has no more in common with local produce than appearance and even that is strained. February tomatoes have much more in common with baseballs than July tomatoes in that they are very round, way out of season in the Northeast and about as interesting eating.

    It’s a good read; I wouldn’t try to read it all at once, but I will read it again I am sure. Mr. Stewart , like some of the people he writes about, is interested in passing along his methods and experiences. He is instructive and entertaining and this is a book to be referred to over and over as we gain knowledge about and recover some of our lost appreciation and experience of local foods.

I really am sorry brownie delight

skneal@att.net — Sun, 05 Oct 2008 02:25:12

highly recommended for those moments of unresolved tension

dont throw that away casserole

skneal@att.net — Sun, 05 Oct 2008 01:19:24

leftovers meet fresh ingredients for a delicious one dish meal

WARM ME UP BROCCOLI POTATO SOUP

skneal@att.net — Sun, 05 Oct 2008 01:09:25

THIS CREATION IS GOOD FOR YOU INEXPENSIVE YET TASTY

EZ STREET QUICHE

skneal@att.net — Sun, 05 Oct 2008 01:04:27

SIMPLE, QUICK AND NUTRITIOUS

BOY R THEY GOOD BURGERS

skneal@att.net — Sat, 04 Oct 2008 19:42:38

EASY CHEESY FLAVORFUL BURGERS

Slam Dunk

skneal@att.net — Sat, 04 Oct 2008 13:02:08

Crock pots are easy street to a decent meal after a long day at work.

The title of this article is Slam Dunk, artfully named by my younger brother who would ask my mother "we having slam dunk again?"

You don't have to be a chef to master Slam Dunk. All you need is your crock pot and a chuck roast.
"slam dunk" that roast in the pot and cook on low for several hours. Chuck roast is the best for this, for some reason the other cuts are not as good.

Personally, I prefer not to put any liquid in my crock pot with the chuck roast. Because I am a flavor freak I will add crushed garlic or garlic powder to the pot.

After several hours you can add onion, potatoes and carrots for Slam Dunk Roast and Vegetables, leave the vegetables in there for at least an hour. At this point you can salt the meat. I do not reccommend salting before cooking all day.

Slam Dunk BarBQ is my favorite. Once the roast is tender you can tear it apart gently with a fork. Drain whatever liquid is in the pot and use that for adding to soup or giving your dog a treat on dry dog food.
Add your favorite BarBQ sauce, ours is a combination half hot and spicy and half hickory smoke this is great on buns and is simply delicious. Guaranteed to be a winner in your home.

Enjoy!

Mom's Tuna Cassarole

Kittykat197@aol.com — Thu, 02 Oct 2008 20:36:04

The best tuna casserole you will ever have, It sounds different, but it's delicious!