Vegan Schmegan

As Thanksgiving 2008 approached, it seems I heard more than the usual discourse on the ethics of food, and in particular, meat-eating. Maybe I am just more attuned to these discussions, as lately I've been doing a lot of examination of my food consumption and have been contemplating vegetarianism and even veganism. I then start adding back in animal based products that I don't want to live without, namely fish and cheese. God knows, there is probably a name for that kind of diet! If not, I'm open to suggestions.

There were several stories aired on NPR regarding the vegetarians' dilemma during the holidays. I heard about people that were just as conflicted about what we choose to eat and how that food produced.

We had decided to go out for sushi for the Thanksgiving. (As I write this, NPR is broadcasting a story about the threatened Atlantic Blue-fin Tuna, an impressive and beautiful fish that is a threatened species because of high demand for, um, sushi.) No birds were harmed in our holiday feast, however tuna, yellowtail, razor clams, shrimp and eel all suffered great carnage.

As both 'L' and I expected 'A' to be participating in our holiday plans, we both made vegan desserts. 'L' did her usual vegan pumpkin pie, which is damn good and almost indistinguishable from the kind made with animal fluids (mmmmm, fluuuuuuu-ids...). I, having only one dish to make, characteristically became very ambitious and decided to create a vegan version of one of PDX's dessert landmarks, the Pear Rosemary Tart from Pix Patisserie.

I made a pate sucree and added first a layer of almond cream. I placed sauteed pears second and topped the tart with a ganache made with Valrhona 70% chocolate infused with rosemary. I was fairly happy with it but next time want to make the ganache creamier.

I think I do not want to be a vegan, but want to be a vegan chef because of the challenge.

Magic Mushrooms

My former neighbors Flo & Randy are master mushroom hunters. Flo is a Frenchwoman transplanted to the Pacific NW. Being married to the outdoorsy, bike-riding, PDX native Randy, the union has produced an elite team of chanterelle foragers.

Once when I lived next door to them, I invited myself to one of their mushroom sojourns. The take was a paltry 3 slug-nibbled mushrooms. I believe I am a curse, as it seems every other outing they embarked upon yielded generous amounts of lovely orange fungi.

I received an email a few days ago from Randy asking if I could take some Cantharellus cibarus off their hands. Seems they hit the mother lode, finding so many mushrooms they could barely transport them from the forest back to the car. They had the equivalent of 4 brown-paper grocery bags stuffed full of the fragrant, orange morsels.

I replied that of course I would love some and I would also like the recipe for the buttery, flaky biscuits they would make every fall using our Oregon chanterelles. We made arrangements to meet at their house (my old 'hood) to prepare and enjoy lunch.

I decided to bring dessert and this morning made a pear tart using local Comice pears, local hazelnuts, local butter, local rosemary and local flour. The "quick" puff-pastry recipe came from the Silver Palate cookbook I've had since the '80's and it was brilliant. I have made authentic puff-pastry before, and the meticulous, precision-like technique suits my style. But you need quite a bit of time and the weather has to be just right to make a successful batch. On short notice I decided to take a chance on this faster, more convenient recipe. I added a bit of sugar because this was to used for a dessert, but I plan to make some more without sugar and freeze them for savory tarts and appetizers.

Once I arrived we set about preparing our meal. The weather has been spectacular, and today was another incredible sunny, chilly, blue-skied autumn spectacular (normally at this time of year we would be in the midst of winter rain, clouds and gloom). F & R have a virtual farm-in-the-city: apple, hazelnut, Asian pear trees; garlic, onions, leeks; kale, chard, arugula, romaine, green & red-leaf lettuces; end-of-season basil and tomatoes- and that's just what they have in the garden right now! I was assigned to prepping the mushrooms, which I love! Put me in a corner with a good knife and a pile of produce and I will slice, chop, dice, julienne, mince, chiffonade, etc. happily for hours. Randy prepared the biscuits and Flo did a bit of everything: cleaning, prepping, and- most importantly- harvesting the salad.

Why do French people make the best salads? Simple assemblages of greens, oil and vinegar become sublime compositions of textures and tastes. So different from the bland, flavorless watery greens doused in gluey, overly-sweet "dressings" that Americans call "salad." Of course, the fact that every salad I've had at Flo & Randy's house has been comprised of vigorous, healthy plants enjoying sunshine, water and rich soil that were picked and gently baptized with perfectly proportioned oil-to-vinegar vinaigrette seconds before being placed on my plate has something to do with the superior texture and flavor. But still... there is something in the genes of these Francs that understands how a salad should taste an feel and they make it look effortless.

Just as we had decided lunch would be biscuits, salad, Black Butte Porter Ale (a divine local beer product), and pear tart, Flo decided we should also make chanterelle risotto and bestowed upon me the honor of preparing it. Woohoo. Though she had a recipe, we pretty much winged it and the creamy rice dish turned out beautifully- savory, creamy, toothsome bites of rice infused with mushrooms, garlic and wine.

Because the weather was just too nice to stay indoors, we set the table in the midst of their garden of eatin' and enjoyed yet another local, seasonal, communal feast in this place that I am so happy to call home.

Gazpacho

I found the perfect recipe to capture the flavor and feel of summer before it slips away. Those of you who listen to the Splendid Table on public radio may have already heard David Rosengarten describe an authentic, Andalusian gazpacho. It differs from what Americans typically call "gazpacho" as it is a smooth, pureed soup with the addition of stale bread.

Yesterday I acquired all the vegetables and the bread at the Montavilla Farmer's Market and went to In Good Taste, cooking school/kitchen supply store downtown and splurged on a $21 bottle of sherry vinegar. There was a $60 bottle that the saleswoman said "...you could pour it in a glass and drink...", which I don't doubt, but if I'm going to lay down that kind of money it would for a Châteauneuf-du-Pape.

Well, I just made a batch and it is incredible. I didn't use David Rosengarten's recipe (though I did put it in a pitcher as he recommends) but another recipe by Anya von Bremzen which can also be found on the Splendid Table website. Use the juiciest, freshest, vine-ripened tomaotes you can find, as the flavor of this cold soup utterly depends on it.

So go- now, while you can still get some good tomatoes and make this. It looks like a lot of work but it really is just some chopping and pureeing and well worth it:

Classic Andalusian Gazpacho

Adapted from The Greatest Dishes: Around the World in 80 Recipes © 2004 by Anya Von Bremzen. Published by HarperCollins.

Serves 6

A fruity Spanish olive oil, preferably from Andalusia, is important, as is a good sherry vinegar, preferably aged. Both can be found at specialty groceries or mail-ordered (see Resources). If you can spare the time, garnish the gazpacho with tiny bread croutons fried in olive oil.

• Four 1-inch-thick slices day-old coarse country bread from a round loaf, crusts removed, torn into small pieces
  
• 3 pounds ripest, most flavorful tomatoes possible, washed and quartered (do not use Beefsteak tomatoes)
  
• 4 tablespoons good-quality sherry vinegar, preferably aged
  
• 3 medium garlic cloves
  
• Small pinch of cumin seeds or ground cumin
  
• Coarse sea salt
  
• 2 firm medium-sized Kirby (pickling) cucumbers, peeled
  
• 1 medium green bell pepper, cored and seeded
  
• 1 medium red bell pepper, cored and seeded
  
• One quarter of a medium red onion, peeled
  
• 1/2 cup fragrant, fruity extra-virgin Spanish olive oil, preferably from Andalusia
  
• 1/2 cup bottled spring water, or more to taste
  
  Garnish
• 2 to 3 tablespoons each finely diced cucumbers, peeled green apples, slightly
  underripe tomatoes, and green bell peppers
  
• Slivered young basil leaves

1. Place the bread in a large bowl, and squeeze out the seeds and some of the juice from the tomatoes over it. Crumble and massage the bread with your fingers. Add 1 tablespoon of the vinegar and let it soak for 5 to 10 minutes.

2. Using a mortar and pestle, pound the garlic to a paste with the cumin and 1/2 teaspoon of salt.

3. Transfer the bread mixture to a food processor along with the garlic paste, and process until completely smooth. Leave this mixture in the food processor while preparing the next step.

4. Chop the tomatoes, cucumbers, red and green peppers, and onion into medium dice. Place the vegetables in a bowl, stir in three large pinches of salt, and let stand for 15 minutes so that the tomatoes throw off some liquid.

5. Working in three batches, process the vegetable mixture in a food processor until as smooth as possible, adding a third of the olive oil to each batch. (The first batch will be processed with the bread mixture.) Transfer each finished batch to a sieve set over a large bowl.

6. Pass the gazpacho through a sieve, pressing on it with the back of a wooden spoon. Whisk in the remaining 3 tablespoons vinegar and the water. Adjust salt to taste. Chill the gazpacho for at least 3 hours before serving. (If making the gazpacho a day ahead, add the garlic 2 to 3 hours before serving, lest it overwhelm the other flavors.) Serve in glass bowls or wine glasses, with the suggested garnishes.

Yep, Summer is leaving us

I'm getting that anxious feeling that one has when your realize summer is coming to a close and you haven't done half he things you fantasized about during cold, grey, depressing February.

Things I did not accomplish this season:

• never threw the fabulous cocktail party
• vegetable garden didn't thrive beyond early June
• I planted no flowers
• only went to the beach once
• didn't install rain barrels
• didn't make jam or pickles or "put up" anything
• didn't paint the kitchen cabinets
• haven't eliminated any ivy since the great "Battle of the Invasive Plants" in January
• and on and on and on...

But today wasn't so bad. I got up fairly early, did some cleaning while listening to NPR. I then scrounged up all the semi-wrinkled, not-the-peak-of-freshness fruits I had on hand (blueberries, strawberries and apricots- all local) and made a delicious, moist coffee cake. I enjoyed a slice with a pot of French-press Stumptown coffee.

My current favorite coffee is "Los Planos" from El Salvador. The card included with the bag of beans contains the location of the grower (latitude and longitude & elevation); the varietal (Pacamara) and describes the flavor as: "Heavy bodied with notes of pear compote and fresh sqeezed orange juice in the flavor profile and an aroma of maple & sweet herbs." Makes you want a cup now, doesn't it?

As if this weren't enough, on the other side of the card is a detailed story of the grower:

In 1996, Sergio Ticas Reyers began cultivating Pacamara on Los Planos which he inherited from his grandfather. He provides land for his workers for food crops and donated land to the Chatalatenango community for construction of a water tank. Sergio Ticas also maintains a natural lagoon, spring and shade trees for local fauna. This coffee is washed processed in his wet mill with spring water and dried on patios.

If this coffee was a man I'd marry it. Only if it was grown down the street could this be more politically, socially and environmentally correct. Some of you non-Oregonians may now understand why I am so dismissive of Starbucks. I'm not a snob (OK, maybe kind of); I'm just lucky enough to have access to such amazing food.

Today was a cool & windy just reeking of autumn so I decided to get some yard work done. For dinner I made a pizza with the dough I had made yesterday. I topped it with basil pesto I made with ingredients from the Montavilla Farmer's Market and used hazelnuts instead of pine nuts. I added no cheese in case I make some food for 'A.' I added thinly sliced Brandywine and German Striped heirloom tomatoes and fresh mozzarella. It baked up perfectly with lots of bubbles in the crust, nicely charred on the bottom but with enough tenderness. It looked so good that I started in on it seconds after I pulled it from the oven and neglected to take a picture. Too bad- it was quite the beauty.
So as I sit on my comfortable deck at the house that I call my own, eating yet another satisfying meal made from impeccable local ingredients, admiring the Maxfield Parrish sky, and fondly recalling the all the visitors that made their way to Alder Street this season, I'm thinking that maybe this summer wasn't such a bust after all.

Cool Kettle, Hot Lunch @ 110 degrees

I've been looking for a new kettle. The one that I currently have was purchased at Marshall's in 1998. It is copper and in the British Georgian style. It was cheap, and I suspect, manufactured for "decorative use" only in China. For years I've held the belief that it has it has been poisoning me with toxic soldering and non-food grade metals. But it looks cute...

I've been on the lookout for a healthier replacement for a while, but couldn't find an affordable kettle that I could bear to look at. But yesterday after receiving a flyer from Macy's in the mail, I found this from the Martha Stewart collection on Macy's website and it is exactly what I've been looking for. Plus it is on sale for $26.99 from $49.99. Me likes a bargain! So, despite the extreme temperature, I decided to head downtown to the least-skanky Macy's and buy myself a beautiful, non-health-threatening kettle. By the way, I decided to take the day off today; too hot for even me to take Trimet home.

I got to Macy's a little after 1pm, and quickly located the object of my desire. But wait a minute, the price within the plastic sleeve attached to the display model says it is on sale for $39.99. Huh?

I started rifling through that plastic sleeve and found 2 more prices, both of which were higher than the $26.99 being advertised. Crap, did I read it wrong or miss the small print? I see signs all over the place: 'One Day Sale!' 'Morning Sale!' 'Weekend Special'. I have no idea which sale- if any- applies. All I know is that this kettle was clearly marked $26.99 on the Macy's website. Time for some haggling. And this time I have my secret weapon...my beloved phone!

I log onto Macys.com and bring the kettle up to the counter. After showing the saleswoman the online price, she hesitantly gave me the online price. What else could she do?

On my way out of the store I saw this creepy mannequin. I hope this wasn't a finished display...

I happily left the store and decided to have lunch as South Park. I enjoyed 1/2 doz. raw oysters and King Crab cakes with a lemon aioli on watercress with a crisp Sauvignon Blanc. I had David Sedaris' new book 'When You Are Engulfed in Flames' and laughed out loud several times in the restaurant. Oysters, wine, Davis Sedaris and air-conditioning- it was the perfect way to spend a 110-degree day off.

Montavilla Farmer's Market

I'm really smitten by our neighborhood farmer's market. This is a picture of today's purchases. Yes, the market is tiny, but that is one of the things that makes it enjoyable. There are an adequate number of legitimate farm stands that sell produce and a minimum of crafty, non-food items. There are at least 2 bakeries, a place to get seafood and free-range organic meats. There are 2 flower vendors and some interesting prepared food stands- barbecue, tamales, sausages, lemonade- just to name a few. I also like that it is on a Sunday and doesn't start until 10am.

I never go to the downtown market at PSU on Saturday's anymore unless someone is visiting from out of town. It is way too crowded and you have to get there early- 8:30am- to get some of the high-demand items. Plus, it is like a freakin' dog & stroller show.

Now, I understand that small children and babies can't be left at home alone and most grow to a size that makes it impractical to carry them or strap them to an adult body, so I concede that strollers are a necessary evil. (Though, it may seem darling to you parents as you allow 2 year-old Sofia, Ava, Henry or Jackson push the designer, Italian-made, produce laden, wheeled baby-container into the back of ankles but in doing so you are slowing down the flow of humanity and I'm from the East coast and move fast through crowds and have other things to do this Saturday so please- this is NOT cute but annoying. GET THE KID OUT OF MY WAY!!!)

But I beg of you, leave the dogs at home. I make this request not because I don't like dogs but because I care for them a great deal- a heck of a lot more than I care for your human spawn. Hey, this is summer time and it is hot and your poor dog is standing on asphalt and isn't wearing shoes like you are. They can't run or even walk at a normal pace. They are slowly wandering around in circles, having their leashes jerked every time they smell something interesting and go in for a better sniff. They are surrounded by human legs and baby-containers on wheels with kids grabbing for their faces and tails. The little one are getting stepped on and the big ones are getting challenged by other dogs. Yes, your pup may act like going to the Farmer's Market is the most exciting, enjoyable thing a doggie could ever do as you headed out the door, but believe me, your dog is miserable. I can see the disappointment in their eyes when they realize they aren't headed for a park, or a hike, or a simple drive in the car. Kind of like the expression they have at the vet.

The Montavilla market is very small but there is plenty of space between the booths. So even though there is a fair number of posers with their canines they are easily avoidable. But I still feel bad for the dogs...

After the market, I stopped by Bui Natural Tofu deli to pick up some- yeah, you guessed it- tofu. I was hoping the lemongrass tofu would be coming out fresh from the oven but the freshest was the green onion and mushroom. Well, I 've been trying to eat more "cruelty free" food but their tofu stuffed with seasoned pork was also fresh-from-the-oven and was beckoning me with its sizzling, porky tastiness. Mmmmmm, delicious cruelty...

I pedaled over to A and L's house. They were recovering from a Timbers game the night before and were watching soccer and the Olympics on TV. I hung out for a few minutes then headed home to get my sunflowers into some water. 'L' commented that I looked like a "Portland Girl" with my produce and flowers in my bicycle basket.

While I waited for the green light at Washington and 82nd, a guy in his twenties rolled up on his bike. He appeared like a typical Outer-Southeast inhabitant: pasty complexion, baseball cap backwards, erratic pedaling. He started talking about the sunflowers:

"You know why they are called sunflowers? Because they follow the movement of the sun, supposedly. They are such nice flowers- so pretty and happy. They are like great, big smiles."

The light turned green and off he went.
Awwwww... I love this town.

Dinner from the Neighbors

There are are 4 kids- 3 girls, 1 boy- who live a few doors down on Alder Street. Typical kids, they stop to chat and tell me all kinds of things about themselves and the the neighborhood. Their's is a very traditional Pakistani family. Everyday the youngest girl asks me how old I am and the middle girl (maybe 9 years old?) asks me if I have had a wedding or if I'm married. The eldest, a 14-years old, earns money doing yard work for the neighbors. Today I hired her and her sisters- it seems they come as a package deal- to do some weeding and raking. They went right to work and did a great job and are coming back tomorrow to bag up the ivy vines I cut back 6 months ago.

As they were working I learned that the eldest does much of the cooking at home. Of course, I start interrogating her about ingredients, techniques, etc. Well, this evening they appeared at my door with dinner.

There were 2 foil-covered plates. On one were 2 pieces of flat bread, very similar to a whole wheat chapati. On the other was a potato-cauliflower dish. They showed me how to tear off a piece of bread and use it to scoop up the vegetable, as if they only way I knew how to eat was by using a knife and fork.

The hand-made chapati were wonderful: slightly spongy and glistening with a thin sheen of oil, they had blackened, raised bumps and were the perfect combination of tender/chewy. The accompanying potato-cauliflower dish was a brilliant yellow from what I assume was turmeric. The cauliflower was silken yet held its form and the chunks of potato were creamy. It had all been seasoned with lots of salt, (which I believe is what makes food from India/Pakistan so delicious) as well has spices or seasonings which lent the dish the exact amount of heat: enough to get your taste buds hooked on the addictive burn.

It was the best meal I've had all week.

Here's to you, Trimet!

TGIFF! No, that extra 'F' is not a typo. It's been a hard week but I don't really know why. Maybe work is more demanding than I will admit. As I look back upon the many, many jobs I've had, I do see a pattern- I tend to deny when I'm under extreme pressure and attribute my stress, anxiety and feelings of inadequacy to my being, um, well...inadequate.

But maybe I'm not inadequate! Maybe my job is difficult and challenging! Nah, that can't be it...

Luckily it is Friday and I'm going to leave work early so I can get tickets to Live Wire Radio for tomorrow night. I'm so spent, but really looking forward to the weekend. I take the Max train into the city and jump on a bus so I can get the tickets at the theater box office. Yes, I could have just bought the tickets on line through Ticket Master, but after all those gouging "handling fees", 2 $15 tickets would have cost me $46 bucks. Fuck that! I am way too cheap and way too outraged to give them all that money. So, like a good citizen I go way out of my way to get to the Aladdin Theater box office to buy tickets in cash and pay only a $1 handling fee per ticket (which still kind of pisses me off- I mean, it's a freaking "Box Office", and by definition their sole purpose is to "handle" tickets, so now I have to pay you an extra buck to buy a ticket which is the only thing you are supposed to do? Yeah, that's like me asking for a "handling" salary to do what I'm expected to do at my job.) But I give it to them without rant and rave because the theater is cool- a shabby independent venue and hey, if freakin' Ticket Master can gouge huge profits by being a middleman, why shouldn't they hustle a few extra $.

I buy the tickets and now have to catch a bus all the way back across town to get home. It's only about 83 degrees, but on a skanky, urban intersection pounded by unrelenting sun-on-asphalt it has got to be 95 degrees. Luckily, the bus to take me from south to north (a challenge in SE Portland) is due in 5 minutes. Or 10 minutes? 15? 20- maybe 25...

I check the schedule online, call Trimet to see when the bus is due, check the posted schedule: All say the bus is scheduled for 4:15 and it is 4:36 yet there is no bus. I call Customer Servise and leave my usual "...I'm an annual pass holder, this is it- I'm buying a car...blah...blah...blah" The bus finally arrives and there are no seats, of course, but I should just be happy that it came within 40 minutes of the scheduled time, right? Plus, the air-conditioning seems to be working- yipee! But why is there no one sitting in those seats, I wonder...?

Oh, I see.

You might be thinking that by now I am in a full-bore rage, but seeing this mysterious styrofoam box set upon a pile of fluid-soaked paper towels with such a simple and succinct message- DONT SIT- well, it just about made me cry.

Because not ever, EVER, since I've been a Trimet rider- have I seen a warning to a fellow passenger that they should avoid some undesireable fluids. Not once in 7 years.
Things are looking up!

After such a roller-coaster day, I decided upon arrival at Alder Street that I needed a cocktail. My liquor-inspiration follows the same pattern as my food inventiveness: concept>composition>assembly. As I am car-less and usually too lazy to head to the store, my best innovations come from using what is already in "the pantry." Following this pattern of creation, I debut my original cocktail.

As I prefer everything have a utilitarian purpose, so does my poison. Here are the ingredients and why they were included:

TRIMET ANTIDOTE

• 2 oz. vodka (or 4-6 oz, I don't know...)- because of it alcohol and "forgetting" properties

• 1/2 fresh squeezed lemon juice- to prevent scurvy; also to *reduce acid in the blood. *see, Yogi! I'm being healthy!

• 5 shakes Angostura bitters- to aid in digestive disturbances that riding public transit induces

• 1 teaspoon sugar- to counteract the healthy qualities of the lemon juice

• 5 leaves fresh Moroccan mint- the spicy, aromatic herb helps "cleanse" your spirit from the polluting effects of human piss, sweat, snot and yes, poo, that you knowingly-or unknowingly- came into contact with on Trimet

• 1 sprig fresh lavender- the antiseptic qualities will help keep your immune system healthy and the aroma will aid your imagining that you are actually in an ancient farmhouse in Provence. You are overseeing the building of a limestone patio by some local men. Young, dark, muscular men, lifting stones, glistening with perspiration...mmm...

Oh yes, I digress...

Add all of the above ingredients to a cocktail shaker with lots of ice. shake, shake and shake some more. Pour into a martini glass and garnish with mint or lavender.

Ahhhhhhh. That's much better....

Roasted Beet & Smoked Duck Salad

...with Goat Cheese, Toasted Hazelnuts and a Dijon Vinaigrette. I had this on my deck at twilight, my favorite time of day.

Freedom Potato Salad

My brother the Yogi/Ski Master is in town visiting for a while and since I did not go to Vermont for the July 4th as I usually do, we had an impromptu Independence Day gathering here at Alder Street. As usual, the menu to a turn for France (or, a "Tour de France"): Ratatouille, Potato-Green Bean Salad w/Dijon Vinaigrette, Baguette, grilled Mushrooms and Harissa spiced Shrimp, Olive Tapenade, Spiced Hazelnuts. Christo-pee brought Salad Caprese and Beef Tenderloin for the grill. 'A' brought her signature- and only- dish, Sesame Noodles. Melissa brought delicious mini-profiteroles. Appropriately, Blandit brought Maple Bars and Chocolate-Frosted Doughnuts- the only bonafide American offerings to be seen. Kevin brought a delicious Syrah, 'L' brought lots of beer.

In addition to all of us gluttonous, alcohol guzzling adults there was a hyperactive Jack Russel Terrier and an equally mischievous 14 month old, so we were all "on our toes."

Spring Harvest

I know it isn't very impressive, but I've just pulled the first offerings from my humble, little vegetable garden- 2 radishes! I ate them with some bread & butter. The broccoli rabe went to seed because I didn't pick it early enough, but I like the yellow flowers so it's OK.

I wait too long to pick my vegetables. I always feel like it's a bit too early, and if I just wait just one more day it will be the perfect time. I have actually let a big, beautiful heirloom tomato go to rot on the vine because I just couldn't bring myself to pick it. Hmmm.

Hello from PDX- food capital of the US!

Since moving to Portland, Oregon in 2000, my already established food-obsession has only deepened. And broadened. This blog is devoted to my culinary experiences both local and global.