Late night at work
+ vegetables from last week on the verge of rotting that I TOTALLY FORGOT ABOUT (eek)
+ a new share
+ gone for the weekend
= stress
I was a super ninja and triaged the shit out of my fridge and cursed myself for forgetting about the basil and frisee hidden in the back that I forgot about. See, when frisee starts to go bad, it goes bad at the very tips and it goes bad unevenly. At least, mine did. So when I was picking out all the slimy leaves, I literally had to pick through each little tendril and pluck off the slimy bits to salvage what was left. Sure, I could have thrown it out, but I'm stubborn like that (though I do feel a little scared to eat it now after having gotten all up close and personal with the rotting tips). Besides, I felt vaguely guilty about tossing my kale salad and squash from last week. So I plucked. And plucked. And plucked some more.
Same thing with the basil, except basil starts to go bad where the leaves meet the stem, which means plucking each leaf off before stripping out the slimy part. Sigh. Fortunately, the parsley was in good shape. There were no other orphaned leftovers from last week's share to handle and I promised myself to be better about handling my CSA shares going forward.
I have to say, neglectfulness aside, I'm really impressed with myself. In under two hours, I managed to handle everything. In fact, I'm so impressed, I'm going to write down my triaging thought process so I can marvel at my ability to think on my feet later.
- Cabbage and napa cabbage: these keep forever ish. Take two seconds and store those suckers in fridge.
- Onion and fresh garlic: semi-long lived creatures. I lopped off their pretty green tops, rinsed those and tossed them in my "odds and ends" soup bag in the freezer. Tossed the bulbs in the fridge. Done. (Pro-tip: fresh garlic can be stored in the fridge for a week. Cured/dry garlic should NOT be stored in the fridge or in a plastic container, as it will sprout or mold. Store those outside in a dark location, like a paper bag or covered, ventilated basket.)
- Green beans and wax beans: Rinsed, admired their prettiness for a few moments, and stored them in ziploc bags as snack food. No prep, no cook, just rinse and store.
- Cucumbers: Washed, peeled, and sliced them into snackable sticks. No cooking (notice a trend?)
- Frisee and parsley: I debated cooking these together, but was too lazy after all that plucking, so I just googled "parsley frisee" and discovered that the internet says you can eat these together as a salad. Boom, done. I also chopped up a bit of parsley to sprinkle on some leftover hummus. I've discovered that I rather like the taste of fresh parsley on hummus and pasta. Those flecks of green are so surprising when you come across them, unlike their dried counterparts, which bear an uncanny resemblance to green paper.
- Basil and zucchini: arguably the most time consuming part of my evening. I basically followed the recipe for marinated zucchini, but spent a lot of time picking out the edible parts of the basil :/ I left the zucchini to marinate in a ziploc baggie and I made the basil-garlic-lemon dressing in advance. I'll give it a taste tomorrow and see how that went. My fingers are crossed. For once, I'm actually really excited to eat zucchini.
And that's it! My share(s) are packed into bags or containers or are safely in storage, and I am ready to face the rest of my week. Oh, I also got another chicken. I now have three chickens in my freezer and I'm running out of room. I should butcher one or roast one early next week so I have something to feed my brother when he gets here. That boy will eat you out of house and home. One time, I had to go to the grocery store twice IN ONE DAY to feed him. When you live in a five floor walkup, this is no laughing matter.
TL;DR: an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, avoid cooking like the plague, and google has all the answers.
Side note: I feel like this is a weird thing to admit, but I really like the way zucchini feels when you cut it up with a super sharp knife. It's really soft, almost buttery, in texture and it looks so clean and fresh. And it's so much less messy than chopping up, say, a chicken.
Showing posts with label soup. Show all posts
Showing posts with label soup. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Friday, January 18, 2013
CSA Share #21
Good thing CSA's are seasonal up here in the Northeast. I truly have no idea how regular bloggers can maintain their steady stream of output for our enjoyment and consumption.
Hurricane Sandy hit NYC right after my last post and in the flurry of trying to regain some sense of normalcy after the storm, I fell out of the habit of posting CSA updates. We lost power and steam in my neighborhood for about 4-5 days, which meant pitch-black darkness after the sun set, no hot water, and freezing temperatures inside. Fortunately, our gas was still working, so we were able to use a lighter to start the stove and boil a bit of hot water for washing our faces or for some tea, to keep us warm and lift our spirits a bit. It was like urban camping. Eerie and not something I want to experience again, if I can help it. Lower Manhattan looked like a post-apocalyptic world. Bizarre.
Grateful that I did not have to endure anything worse than this though. Truly a tragedy that people are still struggling to recover from. My heart goes out to all those who were affected and I hope the communities that were hardest hit will continue to draw strength from each other and lean on the rest of us as they rebuild their lives.
Anyways, it's well into winter here in NY and we've been hopping on and off the weather rollercoaster for the last week. One day it's 50 degrees and positively balmy and the next day, it's back to freezing temperatures. While I anxiously wait for the CSA season to start again, I'll catch up on my backlog of CSA posts.
CSA Share #21
1 bunch Tuscan kale
1 acorn squash
1lb yellow onions
1 bunch beets
6.5 oz spinach
5 oz salad mix
1 bunch cilantro
To be honest, because I picked up the share in the middle of the blackout, I straight up just told the coordinator for that week that I had no refrigeration, and could I please swap out the perishables for the hardier vegetables in the share? A lot of people hadn't showed up to retrieve their shares that week, so there was quite a bit of surplus. The coordinator took one look at my sad little face and the mountains of unclaimed vegetables and graciously encouraged me to swap out as much of my greens for squash and onions as I could manage.
So...no weekly roundup for this share, but a very heartfelt thank you to the wonderful lady who let me swap out my vegetables :)
Side note: The subways were still down, so I had to walk home with my cache of produce. On top of the other minor indignities I'd endured, this was just one more, but it made me truly grateful for the progress we've made in the last century or two. I have no idea how the Pilgrims or pioneers or even the Koreans after the war managed to eke out a daily existence. Much respect, and I am very aware that if the zombie apocalypse ever happened, I'd probably die of starvation before the zombies even got a chance to reach me. Ha.
Extra side note: We lost all our perishables in the freezer and fridge :/ But on the bright side, we didn't have much in there to begin with. And even better yet, that disgusting carrot top soup? Yup. It was one of the casualties of Hurricane Sandy. I don't have to eat carrot tops until next summer yay!!! :D
Hurricane Sandy hit NYC right after my last post and in the flurry of trying to regain some sense of normalcy after the storm, I fell out of the habit of posting CSA updates. We lost power and steam in my neighborhood for about 4-5 days, which meant pitch-black darkness after the sun set, no hot water, and freezing temperatures inside. Fortunately, our gas was still working, so we were able to use a lighter to start the stove and boil a bit of hot water for washing our faces or for some tea, to keep us warm and lift our spirits a bit. It was like urban camping. Eerie and not something I want to experience again, if I can help it. Lower Manhattan looked like a post-apocalyptic world. Bizarre.
Grateful that I did not have to endure anything worse than this though. Truly a tragedy that people are still struggling to recover from. My heart goes out to all those who were affected and I hope the communities that were hardest hit will continue to draw strength from each other and lean on the rest of us as they rebuild their lives.
Anyways, it's well into winter here in NY and we've been hopping on and off the weather rollercoaster for the last week. One day it's 50 degrees and positively balmy and the next day, it's back to freezing temperatures. While I anxiously wait for the CSA season to start again, I'll catch up on my backlog of CSA posts.
CSA Share #21
1 bunch Tuscan kale
1 acorn squash
1lb yellow onions
1 bunch beets
6.5 oz spinach
5 oz salad mix
1 bunch cilantro
To be honest, because I picked up the share in the middle of the blackout, I straight up just told the coordinator for that week that I had no refrigeration, and could I please swap out the perishables for the hardier vegetables in the share? A lot of people hadn't showed up to retrieve their shares that week, so there was quite a bit of surplus. The coordinator took one look at my sad little face and the mountains of unclaimed vegetables and graciously encouraged me to swap out as much of my greens for squash and onions as I could manage.
So...no weekly roundup for this share, but a very heartfelt thank you to the wonderful lady who let me swap out my vegetables :)
Side note: The subways were still down, so I had to walk home with my cache of produce. On top of the other minor indignities I'd endured, this was just one more, but it made me truly grateful for the progress we've made in the last century or two. I have no idea how the Pilgrims or pioneers or even the Koreans after the war managed to eke out a daily existence. Much respect, and I am very aware that if the zombie apocalypse ever happened, I'd probably die of starvation before the zombies even got a chance to reach me. Ha.
Extra side note: We lost all our perishables in the freezer and fridge :/ But on the bright side, we didn't have much in there to begin with. And even better yet, that disgusting carrot top soup? Yup. It was one of the casualties of Hurricane Sandy. I don't have to eat carrot tops until next summer yay!!! :D
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Stockpiling chicken soup for a germy day
I've been dealing with a nasty cold for the last few days, which means I haven't had the appetite for cooking or consuming vegetables. This is unfortunate, since I have so many of them piled up in my fridge.
I dutifully washed and froze all the carrot tops, celery leaves, and parsley that I thought might come in handy for soup-stock, along with a little pile of chicken bones, but that was all I had the energy for. I reheated frozen chicken soup for dinner instead, and hoped that the bones and stock ingredients would hold up for one more week in the freezer.
Times like these, I'm really glad I had the foresight to stockpile frozen Ziploc bags of chicken soup in my freezer. Homemade soup is always so much better than the canned versions.
I dutifully washed and froze all the carrot tops, celery leaves, and parsley that I thought might come in handy for soup-stock, along with a little pile of chicken bones, but that was all I had the energy for. I reheated frozen chicken soup for dinner instead, and hoped that the bones and stock ingredients would hold up for one more week in the freezer.
Times like these, I'm really glad I had the foresight to stockpile frozen Ziploc bags of chicken soup in my freezer. Homemade soup is always so much better than the canned versions.
Friday, September 28, 2012
CARROT TOPS!
For the last few weeks, I have been stripping the bushy green carrot tops off of my carrot bunches, admiring their lush greenery, and then sadly relegating them to the trash pile. After my last two ventures into carrot tops (toasted, garlicky green grass and a rather noxious carrot top tea), I had given up altogether on carrot tops, thinking that perhaps there wasn't anything to be done with them. I started brainstorming ways to build a little compost pile on my rooftop...but...
This week was particularly difficult. The purple carrots were so beautiful and the carrot tops were so abundant. I felt remorse and shame as I sliced off the tops and threw them away.
While I was contemplating the sad fate of my carrot tops, I had a suddent guilt-induced flash of insight. Perhaps carrot tops could be used for medicinal purposes? I shuddered a bit, thinking on the carrot top tea/infusion I had tasted earlier, but I figured it was worth a try.
I found a lot of interesting facts about carrots, the history of carrot cultivation, and its various uses through the ages. Did you know the wild carrot is native to Afghanistan, where it was found in its original purple and purple-white hues? There are yellow and black varietals as well, and researchers have managed to create a particularly sweet varietal of purple carrot with an orange core. I wish I could do that for a living - create new varietals of edible plants. Sighhh... if dreams were pennies, I'd be rich.
I found several reports of carrot top and carrot seed infusions (yeck) and extracts being used for detoxification and as a diuretic. Apparently, poultices made from (wild) carrot mash also work as an external antiseptic.
I also stumbled upon a particularly entertaining 2009 NY Times article by Michael Tortorello.
The Toxic Salad (NYT)
Tortorello is more gifted than I. After cooking up some carrot tops, I believe my description of the experience was something along the lines of "garlicky toasted grass" and "interesting." In Tortorello's words, "The immature carrot greens were cheerfully bitter—say, like a $150 million Powerball winner paying his tax bill. If you can’t quite taste that simile on your tongue, here’s another adjective I could use to describe those carrot greens: toxic."
Yeah, basically. Apparently, carrot tops are mildly toxic, given their high alkaloid content. I might be just spreading internet hearsay along, but hey, I believe it. Those things are vile.
I like to read the readers' comments sections sometimes. You get such an interesting view into the lives of the most annoying netizens floating out there. NYT, WSJ, Huff Post all have very different varieties of lurkers, some more obnoxious than others. But there are also a lot of normal people and I will occasionally discover the odd gem here and there. Especially when I read inoffensive niche articles, like this one. After all, no matter how determined the would-be political commentator, it is difficult to connect leftover vegetable tops with the varying obstacles our country faces from the pernicious effects of greedy, no-good (fill in your politician or minority group of choice here - Romney, Obama, bankers, and politicans as a general group seem to be particularly popular choices these days).
I digress. While I was sifting through comments that had been posted and forgotten several years ago, I discovered quite a few interesting and useful things. I felt like a packrat, successfully scavenging scraps that would prove useful someday, perhaps.
- Rhubarb leaves are toxic.
- Parsnip sap and sunlight are a dangerous combination for your skin. The two together can cause serious blisters and rashes. Yikes!
- A nice reminder that tomato plants are toxic, except the fruit. In fact, all parts of the nightshade plants are usually toxic, with a few exceptions.
- Another nice reminder that the carrot/parsnip family is very dangerous for the unaware forager. Deadly water hemlock is all too tragically mistaken for wild parsnip or wild carrot - even a bite is fatally toxic to children (and adults).
- Rabbits like carrot tops, sometimes. So do goats, apparently.
Of course, this being the comments section, even if it is the comments section of a top notch paper with a fairly respectable readership, it is wise to take all these comments with a healthy grain or two of salt.
But anecdotal evidence is sometimes oh-so-helpful in ways that dry facts simply are not. One woman, after reading the article, exclaimed that in France, carrot tops are sold by the bunch in farmers' markets for making an excellent soup stock. Is this true? Who knows? But oh, how brilliant!
I should have thought of this. The lady casually mentions freezing large bunches of carrot greens for winter soup making purposes and I can't help but smack myself over the head for disposing of my poor carrot greens. I knew there was a good use for them.
I prefer eating my carrots raw, most of the time. Occasionally, I might roast them. But I don't like wasting them in soup, since I find the raw version ever so much tastier than the cooked version. I do like the flavor that they infuse into the broth though. And that, exactly, is what carrot tops are useful for. I can make lovely, carrot flavored soup stock without sacrificing my carrot snacking habit. Why, oh why, didn't I think of this before...?
Well, now I know. And fortunately, carrots are not a summer vegetable, like the tomato or the eggplant, so perhaps we'll be getting a few more bunches in the next few CSA shares. Thinking of carrot tops as herbs, like parsley or dill, makes a world of difference. After all, you wouldn't want to cook a dish of sauteed parsley, but you certainly would throw a handful into a soup pot. (At least, I would.) Prepared and armed with my newfound knowledge, I am ready to tackle these carrot tops again.
Please, don't doubt. I know this will work. After all, third time's the charm!
Afterthought: I think I know why every culture has soup in one form or another. And I know why every culture has it's own version of "buddaejjigae," which is essentially a mashup of anything and everything available to Koreans during the civil war (popular ingredients include ramen noodles, sour kimchi, random veggies, cheese, spam, or pasta). All ingredients are optional and can be used in any order.
Soup is just the most forgiving food to make (and one of the most economical and healthy too!)
Leftover vegetables bits (carrot tops, onion and potato peelings), the aesthetically displeasing, the odds and ends of an animal carcass (bones, gristle, tendons, innards, skin, bits of extra meat and fat), the excess herbs - they all make lovely additions to the soup pot and can be added in any whatever quantity is available. Even the strongest herbs, like cilantro or dill, can be thrown by the handful into soup, where their flavors will soften and commingle with the other ingredients, producing a flavorful but not overwhelming soup base.
Soup! How versatile you are!
This is turning into an ode to soup. I'll stop here.
This week was particularly difficult. The purple carrots were so beautiful and the carrot tops were so abundant. I felt remorse and shame as I sliced off the tops and threw them away.
While I was contemplating the sad fate of my carrot tops, I had a suddent guilt-induced flash of insight. Perhaps carrot tops could be used for medicinal purposes? I shuddered a bit, thinking on the carrot top tea/infusion I had tasted earlier, but I figured it was worth a try.
I found a lot of interesting facts about carrots, the history of carrot cultivation, and its various uses through the ages. Did you know the wild carrot is native to Afghanistan, where it was found in its original purple and purple-white hues? There are yellow and black varietals as well, and researchers have managed to create a particularly sweet varietal of purple carrot with an orange core. I wish I could do that for a living - create new varietals of edible plants. Sighhh... if dreams were pennies, I'd be rich.
I found several reports of carrot top and carrot seed infusions (yeck) and extracts being used for detoxification and as a diuretic. Apparently, poultices made from (wild) carrot mash also work as an external antiseptic.
I also stumbled upon a particularly entertaining 2009 NY Times article by Michael Tortorello.
The Toxic Salad (NYT)
Tortorello is more gifted than I. After cooking up some carrot tops, I believe my description of the experience was something along the lines of "garlicky toasted grass" and "interesting." In Tortorello's words, "The immature carrot greens were cheerfully bitter—say, like a $150 million Powerball winner paying his tax bill. If you can’t quite taste that simile on your tongue, here’s another adjective I could use to describe those carrot greens: toxic."
Yeah, basically. Apparently, carrot tops are mildly toxic, given their high alkaloid content. I might be just spreading internet hearsay along, but hey, I believe it. Those things are vile.
I like to read the readers' comments sections sometimes. You get such an interesting view into the lives of the most annoying netizens floating out there. NYT, WSJ, Huff Post all have very different varieties of lurkers, some more obnoxious than others. But there are also a lot of normal people and I will occasionally discover the odd gem here and there. Especially when I read inoffensive niche articles, like this one. After all, no matter how determined the would-be political commentator, it is difficult to connect leftover vegetable tops with the varying obstacles our country faces from the pernicious effects of greedy, no-good (fill in your politician or minority group of choice here - Romney, Obama, bankers, and politicans as a general group seem to be particularly popular choices these days).
I digress. While I was sifting through comments that had been posted and forgotten several years ago, I discovered quite a few interesting and useful things. I felt like a packrat, successfully scavenging scraps that would prove useful someday, perhaps.
- Rhubarb leaves are toxic.
- Parsnip sap and sunlight are a dangerous combination for your skin. The two together can cause serious blisters and rashes. Yikes!
- A nice reminder that tomato plants are toxic, except the fruit. In fact, all parts of the nightshade plants are usually toxic, with a few exceptions.
- Another nice reminder that the carrot/parsnip family is very dangerous for the unaware forager. Deadly water hemlock is all too tragically mistaken for wild parsnip or wild carrot - even a bite is fatally toxic to children (and adults).
- Rabbits like carrot tops, sometimes. So do goats, apparently.
Of course, this being the comments section, even if it is the comments section of a top notch paper with a fairly respectable readership, it is wise to take all these comments with a healthy grain or two of salt.
But anecdotal evidence is sometimes oh-so-helpful in ways that dry facts simply are not. One woman, after reading the article, exclaimed that in France, carrot tops are sold by the bunch in farmers' markets for making an excellent soup stock. Is this true? Who knows? But oh, how brilliant!
I should have thought of this. The lady casually mentions freezing large bunches of carrot greens for winter soup making purposes and I can't help but smack myself over the head for disposing of my poor carrot greens. I knew there was a good use for them.
I prefer eating my carrots raw, most of the time. Occasionally, I might roast them. But I don't like wasting them in soup, since I find the raw version ever so much tastier than the cooked version. I do like the flavor that they infuse into the broth though. And that, exactly, is what carrot tops are useful for. I can make lovely, carrot flavored soup stock without sacrificing my carrot snacking habit. Why, oh why, didn't I think of this before...?
Well, now I know. And fortunately, carrots are not a summer vegetable, like the tomato or the eggplant, so perhaps we'll be getting a few more bunches in the next few CSA shares. Thinking of carrot tops as herbs, like parsley or dill, makes a world of difference. After all, you wouldn't want to cook a dish of sauteed parsley, but you certainly would throw a handful into a soup pot. (At least, I would.) Prepared and armed with my newfound knowledge, I am ready to tackle these carrot tops again.
Please, don't doubt. I know this will work. After all, third time's the charm!
Afterthought: I think I know why every culture has soup in one form or another. And I know why every culture has it's own version of "buddaejjigae," which is essentially a mashup of anything and everything available to Koreans during the civil war (popular ingredients include ramen noodles, sour kimchi, random veggies, cheese, spam, or pasta). All ingredients are optional and can be used in any order.
Soup is just the most forgiving food to make (and one of the most economical and healthy too!)
Leftover vegetables bits (carrot tops, onion and potato peelings), the aesthetically displeasing, the odds and ends of an animal carcass (bones, gristle, tendons, innards, skin, bits of extra meat and fat), the excess herbs - they all make lovely additions to the soup pot and can be added in any whatever quantity is available. Even the strongest herbs, like cilantro or dill, can be thrown by the handful into soup, where their flavors will soften and commingle with the other ingredients, producing a flavorful but not overwhelming soup base.
Soup! How versatile you are!
This is turning into an ode to soup. I'll stop here.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
CSA Share #16
I can't keep up! But this week's haul looks particularly promising :) I'm very excited to pick it up later today!
CSA Share 16
- 1 eggplant
- 2 bell peppers
- 2 heads garlic
- 1 bunch arugula
- 1 pint salad tomatoes
- 1 bunch assorted braising greens
- 1 bunch green onions
- 1 head romaine lettuce
- 1 bunch purple carrots
- 3/4 lb yellow wax beans
- 1 bunch young celery stalks
CWTC: purple carrots! Actually, it's a tie between the purple carrots and the yellow wax beans. I have a thing for odd-colored vegetables and fruits. I don't know. Nom nom. Did you know carrots were originally purple until the Dutch bred all the purple right out of them? Yeah, me either. Someone should invent a produce trivia section on Jeopardy and Trivial Pursuit and Who Wants to be a Millionnaire,
TAV: Yellow wax beans. I'm going to try very lightly sauteeing them with a squeeze of lemon, a bit of garlic, and a dash of chili pepper flakes. That plus some nice braised greens sounds like a perfect fall weather dish to me!
WTF: Celery tops. What? Apparently, the farm's field team mistook the celery tops for parsley, and harvested them a bit early. Oops.
Oh well! I'm glad they're distributing them, instead of throwing them away. They'll make a wonderful addition to a hearty fall vegetable soup. I've been squirreling away bags of chicken stock for an occasion like this!
I think, with all the work and travel and life happenings that have been going on, that it makes more sense for me to accumulate a pile of post-season topics that I'll return to later. I'll continue to update with the weekly CSA share and interesting tidbits, but I'll save the meatier posts and the recipes for when things settle down a bit. That way, I'll have something to occupy myself with, even during the winter months when there's no fresh produce coming in.
I've been keeping a pretty decent photo log of my CSA adventures on facebook, so hopefully that will help. And I'll try to go back and retroactively post all my lovely pictures in this blog during the post-growing season as well. In the meantime...I will fight off this nasty little stomach bug and the aftereffects of my flu vaccine! Rawr!
It seems frosty weather has begun to nip at our heels. Free Bird Farm reported the first Jack Frost visitations and have wrapped up the summer vegetable patch. No more eggplant, tomatoes, or bell peppers for us. That's okay with me, I think I've eaten more eggplant and bell peppers than I ever thought I could in the past few months. I hope we get potatoes and more garlic!
I've noticed another upside of seasonal eating. Vegetables ripen just when they start to look appealing and appetizing. For example, I wouldn't want a lot of potatoes and heavy collard greens or escarole, winter squash, and chili peppers in the dead middle of a hot and humid summer. Shudder. I'd have to turn my oven on. >.<
Neither would I want light salad greens, tomatoes, and cucumbers when chilly fall evenings start to creep into the Northeast. I want something more substantial, with more depth and smoke and body. But boy, does a refreshing salad sound delicious in the summer! And on a crisp, cool autumn evening, a hearty dish of roasted sweet potatoes, sauteed beans, and sturdy bitter greens cooked with garlic and a bit of fried pork sounds like absolute heaven. Preferably eaten while wrapped up in a warm, cozy sweater or a fleece blanket. See what I mean? Yum yum.
Side note: I WANT A FRUIT SHARE T___T. This week, Maynard Farms is distributing Chardonnay grapes and the last of the summer watermelon. I die.
Apparently, these are very sweet grapes with 24% sugar content, that can be eaten right out of hand. To reiterate, T___________T.
Next year...I am going to sign up for chickens, eggs, and fruit. I can eat the light veggies and eggs during the summer and cook/freeze up the leftovers in soup for winter. The chickens come pre-frozen, so I can just store them away in the freezer until the winter, and then I can make all sorts of lovely dishes. A whole roast chicken on a cold, snowy December night sounds brilliant. I'll have to think about this a little more and check the past few growing seasons to see if this is feasible, but if I'm careful, I may be able to stretch out a full CSA share over a good portion of the year. Hmm...
CSA Share 16
- 1 eggplant
- 2 bell peppers
- 2 heads garlic
- 1 bunch arugula
- 1 pint salad tomatoes
- 1 bunch assorted braising greens
- 1 bunch green onions
- 1 head romaine lettuce
- 1 bunch purple carrots
- 3/4 lb yellow wax beans
- 1 bunch young celery stalks
CWTC: purple carrots! Actually, it's a tie between the purple carrots and the yellow wax beans. I have a thing for odd-colored vegetables and fruits. I don't know. Nom nom. Did you know carrots were originally purple until the Dutch bred all the purple right out of them? Yeah, me either. Someone should invent a produce trivia section on Jeopardy and Trivial Pursuit and Who Wants to be a Millionnaire,
TAV: Yellow wax beans. I'm going to try very lightly sauteeing them with a squeeze of lemon, a bit of garlic, and a dash of chili pepper flakes. That plus some nice braised greens sounds like a perfect fall weather dish to me!
WTF: Celery tops. What? Apparently, the farm's field team mistook the celery tops for parsley, and harvested them a bit early. Oops.
Oh well! I'm glad they're distributing them, instead of throwing them away. They'll make a wonderful addition to a hearty fall vegetable soup. I've been squirreling away bags of chicken stock for an occasion like this!
I think, with all the work and travel and life happenings that have been going on, that it makes more sense for me to accumulate a pile of post-season topics that I'll return to later. I'll continue to update with the weekly CSA share and interesting tidbits, but I'll save the meatier posts and the recipes for when things settle down a bit. That way, I'll have something to occupy myself with, even during the winter months when there's no fresh produce coming in.
I've been keeping a pretty decent photo log of my CSA adventures on facebook, so hopefully that will help. And I'll try to go back and retroactively post all my lovely pictures in this blog during the post-growing season as well. In the meantime...I will fight off this nasty little stomach bug and the aftereffects of my flu vaccine! Rawr!
It seems frosty weather has begun to nip at our heels. Free Bird Farm reported the first Jack Frost visitations and have wrapped up the summer vegetable patch. No more eggplant, tomatoes, or bell peppers for us. That's okay with me, I think I've eaten more eggplant and bell peppers than I ever thought I could in the past few months. I hope we get potatoes and more garlic!
I've noticed another upside of seasonal eating. Vegetables ripen just when they start to look appealing and appetizing. For example, I wouldn't want a lot of potatoes and heavy collard greens or escarole, winter squash, and chili peppers in the dead middle of a hot and humid summer. Shudder. I'd have to turn my oven on. >.<
Neither would I want light salad greens, tomatoes, and cucumbers when chilly fall evenings start to creep into the Northeast. I want something more substantial, with more depth and smoke and body. But boy, does a refreshing salad sound delicious in the summer! And on a crisp, cool autumn evening, a hearty dish of roasted sweet potatoes, sauteed beans, and sturdy bitter greens cooked with garlic and a bit of fried pork sounds like absolute heaven. Preferably eaten while wrapped up in a warm, cozy sweater or a fleece blanket. See what I mean? Yum yum.
Side note: I WANT A FRUIT SHARE T___T. This week, Maynard Farms is distributing Chardonnay grapes and the last of the summer watermelon. I die.
Apparently, these are very sweet grapes with 24% sugar content, that can be eaten right out of hand. To reiterate, T___________T.
Next year...I am going to sign up for chickens, eggs, and fruit. I can eat the light veggies and eggs during the summer and cook/freeze up the leftovers in soup for winter. The chickens come pre-frozen, so I can just store them away in the freezer until the winter, and then I can make all sorts of lovely dishes. A whole roast chicken on a cold, snowy December night sounds brilliant. I'll have to think about this a little more and check the past few growing seasons to see if this is feasible, but if I'm careful, I may be able to stretch out a full CSA share over a good portion of the year. Hmm...
Monday, August 20, 2012
Fennel and Red Cabbage Salad
I've been holding on to a small head of red cabbage from CSA share #7 for a few weeks now, so I thought this might be a good time to try and use it up. Red cabbage is a great source of vitamins and minerals, including the antioxidant, Vitamin C. The thing about cabbage is that once it's cut, Vitamin C starts to disappear right away. Plus, it starts to wilt. So it's a good idea to use up the entire head of cabbage when possible, in order to maximize the health (and flavor!) benefits.
I had a bunch of oranges, pineapple, and apples stored in the fridge for sangria-making purposes (yum!), so when I happened upon a recipe for fennel and red cabbage salad with oranges, I decided to sacrifice a few of my sangria oranges for salad. Glad I did, because the salad turned out quite nicely. The original recipe called for things like pepitas, tamari, hemp seeds, and cilantro, none of which I had on hand, so I made a few modifications and tried to use up the random things I had lying around my kitchen. I also like keeping things simple and quick, to save time.
Ladies and gentlemen, behold my dumbed down fennel and red cabbage salad.
Fennel and Red Cabbage Salad
Ingredients:
- 1 small head of red cabbage
- 2 small fennel bulbs
- 2 oranges
- lemon juice
- olive oil
- balsamic vinegar
- salt
Recipe:
1. Wash and trim fennel bulbs. Reserve fronds and stalks for soup stock (stalk stock teehee) and garnish.
2. Wash and core red cabbage. If you're hungry, you could microwave the cores for a minute or two and eat them as a snack. Nom nom.
3. Slice the cabbage and fennel into thin strips, coleslaw style.
4. Drizzle the fennel strips with olive oil, lemon juice (I used the juice from a third of a lemon), and salt.
5. Slice orange segments into bite size pieces and add to the fennel mix.
6. If you're not eating the salad right away, store in the fridge and mix everything together just before serving/eating*. Keep the cabbage separate from the fennel so the red coloring doesn't leach into the fennel slices. Or the oranges. I imagine purple and orange in combination would turn a rather unappetizing shade of brown.
7. Toss the cabbage with the fennel/orange mix and then drizzle a bit of balsamic vinegar on top. Season with salt and pepper.
8. Garnish with a few fennel fronds.
9. Enjoy.
* If you're making lunch for work and you're short on tupperware (like me), you can wrap up the red cabbage in some saran wrap to keep it separate from the rest of the salad and put it on top of the fennel. Don't use foil, as the acid from the lemon juice might do funny things to your lunch :(
I had way too much red cabbage, so I just brought in the extra cabbage to work the next day, microwaved it, and added salt and pepper. Pretty tasty but it smelled pretty strongly of sulfur. Fortunately, my coworkers are accustomed to far more offensive smells, like fish and kimchi (we sit right by the microwave and the Korilla truck stops by every now and then), so I think I'm still on good terms with them. I hope.
CSA Share #11 is coming in tomorrow! I have a crapton of vegetables, but they're pretty storage-friendly, so I'll probably wait and see what I get in tomorrow's share before I cook any of the CSA leftovers. My inventory consists mostly of onions, garlic, jalapenos, and fennel stalks. I have a pint of frozen chicken consomme, so I might make some soup this weekend and freeze portions for later use.
On a somewhat (not really) related note, I had brunch with my friends at Clinton St Bakery down in the LES. Chocolate chunk pancakes with maple butterscotch syrup. I die. Haha. And the icing on the cake? When I walked in the door, I immediately noticed a sign hanging on the wall with a list of local farms that Clinton St. Bakery sources their fresh ingredients from. I excitedly pointed it out to my brunch friends, but I think my enthusiasm was a little one-sided. #foreveralone
I had a bunch of oranges, pineapple, and apples stored in the fridge for sangria-making purposes (yum!), so when I happened upon a recipe for fennel and red cabbage salad with oranges, I decided to sacrifice a few of my sangria oranges for salad. Glad I did, because the salad turned out quite nicely. The original recipe called for things like pepitas, tamari, hemp seeds, and cilantro, none of which I had on hand, so I made a few modifications and tried to use up the random things I had lying around my kitchen. I also like keeping things simple and quick, to save time.
Ladies and gentlemen, behold my dumbed down fennel and red cabbage salad.
Fennel and Red Cabbage Salad
Ingredients:
- 1 small head of red cabbage
- 2 small fennel bulbs
- 2 oranges
- lemon juice
- olive oil
- balsamic vinegar
- salt
Recipe:
1. Wash and trim fennel bulbs. Reserve fronds and stalks for soup stock (stalk stock teehee) and garnish.
2. Wash and core red cabbage. If you're hungry, you could microwave the cores for a minute or two and eat them as a snack. Nom nom.
3. Slice the cabbage and fennel into thin strips, coleslaw style.
4. Drizzle the fennel strips with olive oil, lemon juice (I used the juice from a third of a lemon), and salt.
5. Slice orange segments into bite size pieces and add to the fennel mix.
6. If you're not eating the salad right away, store in the fridge and mix everything together just before serving/eating*. Keep the cabbage separate from the fennel so the red coloring doesn't leach into the fennel slices. Or the oranges. I imagine purple and orange in combination would turn a rather unappetizing shade of brown.
7. Toss the cabbage with the fennel/orange mix and then drizzle a bit of balsamic vinegar on top. Season with salt and pepper.
8. Garnish with a few fennel fronds.
9. Enjoy.
* If you're making lunch for work and you're short on tupperware (like me), you can wrap up the red cabbage in some saran wrap to keep it separate from the rest of the salad and put it on top of the fennel. Don't use foil, as the acid from the lemon juice might do funny things to your lunch :(
I had way too much red cabbage, so I just brought in the extra cabbage to work the next day, microwaved it, and added salt and pepper. Pretty tasty but it smelled pretty strongly of sulfur. Fortunately, my coworkers are accustomed to far more offensive smells, like fish and kimchi (we sit right by the microwave and the Korilla truck stops by every now and then), so I think I'm still on good terms with them. I hope.
CSA Share #11 is coming in tomorrow! I have a crapton of vegetables, but they're pretty storage-friendly, so I'll probably wait and see what I get in tomorrow's share before I cook any of the CSA leftovers. My inventory consists mostly of onions, garlic, jalapenos, and fennel stalks. I have a pint of frozen chicken consomme, so I might make some soup this weekend and freeze portions for later use.
On a somewhat (not really) related note, I had brunch with my friends at Clinton St Bakery down in the LES. Chocolate chunk pancakes with maple butterscotch syrup. I die. Haha. And the icing on the cake? When I walked in the door, I immediately noticed a sign hanging on the wall with a list of local farms that Clinton St. Bakery sources their fresh ingredients from. I excitedly pointed it out to my brunch friends, but I think my enthusiasm was a little one-sided. #foreveralone
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Leek soup
Feeling terribly lazy and overfull from an indulgent weekend, during which I hosted a mini rebellion and declared a temporary vegetable hiatus. Pork buns and Hakata ramen from Ippudo, 짜장면 and 짬뽕 and fried dumplings at Dong Chun Hong, hot coconut bubble tea at Saints Alp...
There were a few moments when I thought I might pop from overeating.
So when I floated back to earth from my food-induced haze, the only thing that really appealed to me was simple fare. Like, really simple. I made leek soup. I forget who taught me this recipe, but I remember them telling me they read it in a book. I think you're supposed to eat this soup for an entire weekend to detox, but that obviously wasn't happening. Oh well! It's quite tasty though.
Simple Leek Soup
1. Cut off dark green leek tops and roots. Strip off outer layer. You should be left with only the white and very light green parts. You can keep the dark green tops for soup stock.
2. Cut leeks in half lengthwise (split it down the middle hot dog bun style).
3. Rinse leeks very thoroughly under cold running water, fanning out the leaves on each side to remove all the dirt. Not sure how to describe this, but it's almost like flipping through the pages of a book under running water.
4. Drop leek halves in a pot of water.
5. Bring the water to a boil and then reduce to a simmer.
6. Simmer for 20 minutes or so, until leeks become tender and slightly transparent.
7. Separate the leeks from the soup.
8. Drink the soup as is or season with salt and pepper to taste.
9. Drizzle leeks with olive oil and season with salt and pepper to taste. Enjoy!
I also cooked my eggplants, but I haven't had the chance to eat them yet, since I forgot to take them with me to work yesterday. I'll probably have them for dinner today. I cooked them the same way as I cooked the chard (minus the blanching part), meaning I finally managed to use up all my thai basil. Success! We'll see if it tastes good later today... It smelled good though, so I have high hopes.
UPDATE: The eggplant is delicious! Japanese eggplant has a thinner skin and the texture is much more delicate than the normal American varieties. Eggplant has been called bland, tends to absorb oil, and can degenerate into a slimy mess, but I think I managed to avoid most of the pitfalls. I circumvented the blandness by using liberal quantities of garlic and thai basil. And I only used a tablespoon of olive oil (max). All you really need is to infuse the garlic flavor into the oil so that the eggplant gets coated with plenty of flavor while it's cooking. It's a deceptive vegetable, this eggplant, looking dry and sad in the pan, almost begging for more oil. But don't be fooled! Just keep stirring and flipping pieces over and soon enough, the eggplant will become tasty and tender.
There were a few moments when I thought I might pop from overeating.
So when I floated back to earth from my food-induced haze, the only thing that really appealed to me was simple fare. Like, really simple. I made leek soup. I forget who taught me this recipe, but I remember them telling me they read it in a book. I think you're supposed to eat this soup for an entire weekend to detox, but that obviously wasn't happening. Oh well! It's quite tasty though.
Simple Leek Soup
1. Cut off dark green leek tops and roots. Strip off outer layer. You should be left with only the white and very light green parts. You can keep the dark green tops for soup stock.
2. Cut leeks in half lengthwise (split it down the middle hot dog bun style).
3. Rinse leeks very thoroughly under cold running water, fanning out the leaves on each side to remove all the dirt. Not sure how to describe this, but it's almost like flipping through the pages of a book under running water.
4. Drop leek halves in a pot of water.
5. Bring the water to a boil and then reduce to a simmer.
6. Simmer for 20 minutes or so, until leeks become tender and slightly transparent.
7. Separate the leeks from the soup.
8. Drink the soup as is or season with salt and pepper to taste.
9. Drizzle leeks with olive oil and season with salt and pepper to taste. Enjoy!
I also cooked my eggplants, but I haven't had the chance to eat them yet, since I forgot to take them with me to work yesterday. I'll probably have them for dinner today. I cooked them the same way as I cooked the chard (minus the blanching part), meaning I finally managed to use up all my thai basil. Success! We'll see if it tastes good later today... It smelled good though, so I have high hopes.
UPDATE: The eggplant is delicious! Japanese eggplant has a thinner skin and the texture is much more delicate than the normal American varieties. Eggplant has been called bland, tends to absorb oil, and can degenerate into a slimy mess, but I think I managed to avoid most of the pitfalls. I circumvented the blandness by using liberal quantities of garlic and thai basil. And I only used a tablespoon of olive oil (max). All you really need is to infuse the garlic flavor into the oil so that the eggplant gets coated with plenty of flavor while it's cooking. It's a deceptive vegetable, this eggplant, looking dry and sad in the pan, almost begging for more oil. But don't be fooled! Just keep stirring and flipping pieces over and soon enough, the eggplant will become tasty and tender.
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