Eat real food

In yesterday's San Bernardino Sun a consumer reporter recommended saving money by buying a whole freezerful of beef before prices rose. That same day the LA Times referenced, again, the "pink slime" additive found in so much ground beef without any special labeling required. Just below that was a link to the study noting that any amount of red meat shortens a person's expected life span (and it doesn't seem to matter whether it's the quality stuff worth packing away in a freezer or the 2 for 99 cents burgers from am/pm). Ewwww.

I understand the allure of meaty, hearty meals. It's just that you don't need a butcher to get you there. That's why god gave us beans and herbs and all sorts of other lovely ingredients. The other day my friend Maryanne reminded me of Michael Pollan's most basic rule: Eat real food. Mostly plants.

We were at our favorite produce stand, browsing among the lettuces. I had a crockpot of cranberry beans simmering at home (they are very similar to pintos, just a little larger and sweeter, and cook a bit faster) and, as I surveyed all the options for turning them into a delicious meal, I wondered why anyone would be offended by Pollan's love of actual, authentic food. You'd be amazed at the names he gets called: Food Nazi is one of the kinder ones.

I came home with not only the Fairytale Pumpkin whose story has yet to turn magical (see earlier post), but also a box of good ol' fashioned local produce that is finding its way into my delicious

happily ever after. This morning I sauteed a little onion, garlic, anaheim chile, and orange bell pepper together, ladled in some of the cranberry beans, and then stepped outside for a few leaves of fresh sage. The earthiness of the sage filled out all the other flavors, and in less time than it takes to brown a Jimmy Dean sausage I had a beautiful plate of that best of all country breakfasts. No artery-clogging bacon needed, and no greasy skillet to scrub out later. It's not just that I want to eat good food that keeps me healthy, it's that this was the yummiest option out there in breakfastland.

Kitchen Herbs

Meryl Streep is my all-time favorite actress. Her class and intelligence can turn a middling film like "The Iron Lady" into compelling drama. Even with her charisma and earthy chemistry with Alec Baldwin, however, I'd have found "It's Complicated" a somewhat forgettable movie, except for one aspect: Garden Porn. Every scene in that kitchen garden sent waves of lust and envy washing over me. I read an article revealing the secrets behind the perfection, and while the produce was real, it was grown in greenhouses and only perfect plants made it into the garden (and even that wasn't enough--those gorgeous tomatoes were wired to the vines). Just like fake breasts don't seem to deter men's fantasies, the artificial perfection of those cabbage rows didn't cool my flames one bit.

I don't even have time for a PG-rated garden of my own right now. Fortunately, I live where it's easy to find lots of fresh produce at farmer's markets and stands. With real estate in a slump, investors are holding on to open land and farming is a good way to catch some extra tax breaks while doing so. I make strawberry jam from berries grown and sold a mile from here on a couple of acres tucked in between housing developments.

The one thing that truly needs to come "fresh off the vine" is fresh herbs. Because they don't keep well they're expensive at the market, so growing your own isn't just a culinary advantage, it makes economic sense as well. Fortunately, this takes no extra time or effort on your part. I've devoted a corner of a planter right next to my front door to rosemary and several varieties of thyme and sage, and oregano grows among the flagstones next to the stoop. These herbs need so little attention--non-culinary versions of them all show up throughout my low-water landscaping (and even those are edible, just a little sturdier). The hose is right next to the kitchen herbs so it's easy to spritz them regularly but if I get busy and miss even a week or two they hang right in there.

Most importantly, when I'm cooking all I have to do is pop out the door with a pair of scissors and snip all the freshness required to make a dish memorable.

What's Cooking?

I found this Fairytale Pumpkin squash at the vegetable stand today. You can see how it got its name, from that shape found in so many illustrations of Cinderella. I sliced it up and discovered a rich deep orange flesh inside--this photo just can't do the color justice.

Now the chunks are roasting at 375 in the oven. I really have no idea what I'm going to do with them so we'll just have to see! It's fun to try something out.

More later, as this plays out. Anyone with ideas, please post!

Next day: Well, so far no fairytale ending for the Fairytale Pumpkin. I followed roasting instructions I found on the internet and ended up with tough chunks of pumpkin. I should have known better. I will probably dice some of it up and throw into the stew I'm making this afternoon.

The name Fairytale Pumpkin is too alluring to give up on, so I'm picking up another one and will try again using a roasting pan covered with foil to retain moisture.

It's fun to write about cooking successes, but the fact is that a lot of cooking is try, try again.

A couple of days later: Well, it wasn't a loss after all. I was in a hurry the other day so made a quick lunch by heating up a big chunk of the cooked pumpkin, finishing off with a dab of butter and salt. The squash flavor had intensified by sitting in the fridge, and the flesh had rehydrated a bit. It was tasty and took me through the whole afternoon. I know something that deep orange and fiber-rich has to be super-healthy as well. I ate pumpkin for lunch again today. Even though it had been sitting in the fridge for 5 days, it was just as tasty. I can see this as an easy way to make lunches for school.

Sometimes it's worth it to think outside the box

Today is my friend Tom's birthday. So I made him a cake. As my faithful readers know, I'm a big fan of mixes--why do all that work when someone else has already done it for you? Sometimes, though, it's really satisfying to do the work yourself. And rewarding. Voila Tom's cake.

I've made a lot of yummy cakes from mixes. Duncan Hines Lemon Supreme for example, finished with a can of Betty Crocker cream cheese frosting. Pretty damn good. And I've messed around with this cake recipe and that, because the write-up in the LA Times food section makes them sound so good. Last winter my friend Maryanne and I tag-teamed on a couple of sponge-cake recipes, trying to figure out which one worked best. But really, again, why do the work when someone else has done it for you? Someone like the great food scientist Shirley Corriher.

I've been hooked on Shirley since I first heard her interviewed on NPR's Fresh Air. My mom bought me her cookbook/textbook Cookwise, which teaches not only how to cook, but why. It's a fantastic tome. Then, my fried Gail started experimenting with her quickbread recipe, and said she sure wished she knew more about adjusting proportions as she changed her ingredients around. Well, bless Shirley's heart, she had just put out another cookbook all about that very topic: Bakewise. There was Gail's Christmas present (and of course one for me too).

Because she explains not only how to do something, but why, Shirley Corriher's recipes turn out yummy and reliable. She admits she has a powerful sweet tooth, and cakes are obviously nearest and dearest to her heart. There is no cake mix on earth that can come close to her Satin-Glazed Midnight Black Chocolate Cake. As much as I love chocolate, however, I have to award the blue ribbon to her Magnificent Moist Golden Cake. I baked it yesterday, and went to bed with the sweet perfume of vanilla and cream still hovering in the air.


Nonstick cooking spray with flour
4 Tbl unsalted butter, cut in 1-Tbl pieces
1 ½ cups sugar
2 tsp pure vanilla extract
1/3 cup canola oil
3 large egg yolks
2 large eggs
1 ¾ cups spooned and leveled cake flour (NO SUBSTITUTE!)
1 ¾ tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
1/3 cup buttermilk
½ cup heavy cream

1. Arrange a shelf in the lower third of the oven, place a baking stone on it, and preheat the oven to 350.

2. Spray a 9 x 2-inch round cake pan with nonstick cooking spray with flour and line with a parchment circle, then lightly spray the top of the parchment, too.

3. In a mix on medium speed, beat the butter to soften. Beat until it is light in color, about 3 minutes. Add the sugar and continue to beat (cream) until very light, scraping down the sides and across the bottom of the bowl at least once. While creaming, feel the bowl; if it does not feel cool, place in the freezer for 5 minutes, then continue creaming.

4. Beat in the vanilla. On medium speed, blend in the oil.

5. On the lowest speed, blend in the yolks, one at a time, mixing just to blend. Blend in the whole eggs, one at a time, mixing just to blend.

6. In a medium mixing bowl, beat the flour, baking powder, and salt for a full 30 seconds at medium speed with a hand mixer or with a fork or whisk by hand.

7. On the lowest speed, blend over half of the flour mixture into the batter. Continue on lowest speed and blend in half of the buttermilk. Continue adding the remainder of the flour until all is incorporated. Blend in the remaining buttermilk.

8. In a cold bowl with cold beaters, whip the cream until soft peaks form when the beater is lifted. Beat just a little beyond this soft-peak stage. Stir about one-quarter of the whipped cream into the batter to lighten. Then fold the rest of the whipped cream into the batter.

9. Pour the batter into the prepared pan. Drop the pan onto the counter from a height of about 4 inches to knock out bubbles. Place the cake in the oven on the stone and bake until the center springs back when touched, or a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean but moist, about 40 minutes. Ideally, the cake should not pull away from the sides until it has just come out of the oven. the center temperature should be about 209 degrees if you check by inserting an instant-read thermometer.

10. Place the cake in the pan on a rack to cool for about 10 minutes, then shake the pan to loosen the cake all around. spray a cooling rack with nonstick cooking spray and invert the cake onto the rack to finish cooling. Peel off the parchment. Cool completely before slicing into layers, storing, or icing.

Today, I sliced the cake into two layers and filled the middle with some homemade strawberry jam thinned with a little Grand Marnier and a nice helping of mocha frosting, made with Shirley's Basic Confectioners' Sugar Buttercream recipe. The outside is a thick layer of more of that frosting with walnuts pressed into the sides. Tom's about as Guy's Guy as a guy can get, so I didn't want to make it too frou-frou, but at the same time it's so much fun to play around with frosting tips, so I got a little flourish-y with the dark purple embellishments. I don't think he'll mind!

If you want the frosting recipe, or more details on the whys and wherefores of the cake recipe, or just want to spend some time learning really cool stuff about the science of baking, or just get your hands on a whole passel o' kick-ass recipes, you must check out Shirley's book (actually, check out both of them!); you can also catch her quite often on Alton Brown's Good Eats cooking show on the Food Network. Shirley teaches a lesson with each recipe in her book, and although I didn't take the time to include them here, she gives each amount in ounces and grams, which I often use to make sure I have the proportions perfect. They came in especially handy this time, since I used some of Gail's duck eggs to make the cake. They're larger than chicken eggs, and knowing exactly how much the yolks and whole eggs should weigh made it possible to use just the right amount. Bakers swear by duck eggs--the yolks are heavy and rich and assertive. All I know is that the cake turned out perfect.

Celebrate the Butternut

There's a great new restaurant in town, Wild Rocket. I've had some really yummy bites there, and highly recommend it (corner of Eureka and Pearl--you gotta try it).

Imagine my disappointment yesterday then, upon ordering a bowl of butternut squash soup and finding it completely unremarkable. The goat cheese-stuffed dates, pear arugula salad, and berry crumble were simply delightful. How could someone who knew how to create such flavors be content with such a bland bowl of soup? The waitress said it's really meant as a base for lobster (which I don't eat) but I still ask myself, why not celebrate the butternut???

I had the urge to slip him my recipe. I can't take credit for it (the LA Times can) but after having made it a zillion times I can vouch for its utter deliciousness. When my friend Lari had jaw surgery and was limited to what she could sip through a straw, a pot of this manna helped her survive.

This recipe taught me the magic of jalapeno. My first try, I forgot to buy it; the soup was still good enough to make again, and the second time it had the jalapeno, and wow, although I couldn't taste it, suddenly all the other flavors just danced in my mouth. Since then I've been adding it to all sorts of stews, pot roast, and more.

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¼ cup butter
2 leeks, cleaned and chopped
3 stalks celery, coarsely chopped
2 large carrots, peeled, chopped
1 1” piece fresh ginger, peeled & grated
1 fresh jalapeno, seeded & chopped
1 tsp dried thyme
Sea salt to taste
2 lbs butternut squash, cubed
4 cups stock or water
½ cup cream (I use half and half, the original recipe calls for heavy cream)
Freshly ground white pepper

Melt butter over medium heat. Add leeks, celery, carrots, ginger, jalapeno, thyme, and salt. Cook, stirring sometimes, until veggies are wilted, about 10-15 mins.

Stir in squash and stock, bring to a boil, reduce heat to med/low, cover and simmer 20-30 minutes until vegetables are falling-apart soft.

Puree with immersion blender (or in a blender or food processor).

Stir in cream.

Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Serve at once; or reheat gently if needed.

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I think maybe I was disappointed in Wild Rocket's version because I know what butternut can be. If the chef got a hold of this recipe the soup, while still working beautifully as a base for lobster, would be a star of the menu, all by itself.