Sweet and simple

Winter can be, well, depressing. Eating locally can get, well, boring…especially in February and early March. Here is my sweet, simple and delicious recipe for roasted sweet potatoes – a tried and true that picks me up even at this time of year.

Roasted Sweet Potatoes

2 c. chopped sweet potatoes (skin on)
1/2 medium onion – sliced
1 clove garlic – sliced
2 T. olive oil
Salt & pepper
pinch red pepper flakes
1/4 c. chopped parsley (if available)
2 T. balsamic vinegar

Preheat oven to 425 F
1. Combine all the ingredients up to and including the parsley in a large bowl. Mix until fully combined and coated with the oil.
2. Place in a 8×8 baking dish and bake for 25 to 30 minutes or until potatoes are fork tender.
3. Remove from oven. Drizzle vinegar over and stir everything around.
4. Place back in oven and cook for an additional 5 minutes.

New flavors

I don’t know about you, but I feel like I’ve been eating the same-old, same-old for the last few months. Maybe I let my meals become as dull as the winter weather. Maybe I was just a little lazy. Either way, spring is now here and there is an influx of greens at farmers markets adding flavor and color to dinner. This week I had the most amazing, quickest, delicious stir-fry for dinner.

 

Pea Shoot and Spinach Sauté

2 cloves garlic – minced

2 T. grated ginger

1 t. red pepper flakes

2 cups pea shoots – cut into 2 inch segments

2 cups spinach – cut into thin slices

1 T. soy sauce

 

1. In a large sauté pan or wok, heat 1 T. olive oil over medium heat. Add garlic and ginger, sautéing for 3 minutes – don’t let garlic brown! Add pepper flakes and cook for an additional 30 seconds.

2. Add greens and mix until they begin to wilt. Toss in soy sauce and mix, cooking for an additional two to three minutes.

 

Simple, easy, delicious and a great change from the winter blahs.

Sunshine in winter cooking

Over the last nine months I’ve been working for Schenectady Greenmarket. In that time, my life has changed quite a bit. One main area of change is my kitchen. Sure, I have always been a pretty ardent home-cook, rarely eating out, rarely purchasing prepared foods – but I haven’t the kind of person that eats truly seasonally. All that has changed since now most of my grocery shopping is done on Sundays as I run around the market.

Among the celeriac, beets and kohlrabi, there has been one humble reawakening – carrots. This cooked carrot salad is now a staple of my weekly dinners and lunches. It brings sunshine and warmth to my day regardless if it is actually sunny outside (and -12) or snowing.

Spicy Cooked Carrot Salad
Adapted from Deborah Madison’s Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone

1 lb. carrots – diced
1 garlic clove, minced
salt
2 t. sweet paprika
1/2 t. red pepper flakes
1 T. fresh lemon juice
3 T. olive oil
2 T. chopped parsley
1/3 c. crumbled feta cheese

1. Boil the carrots in salted water until tender but not soft (about 3 minutes).

2. In a large bowl, smash the garlic with a pinch of salt. Stir in the paprika, hot pepper flakes and lemon juice. Whisk in the oil.

3. Add the carrots and half the feta cheese. Toss until fully combined. Sprinkle the remaining feta on top and serve.

This salad is wonderful on its own for lunch, perfect wrapped up in a pita with falafel or grilled chicken and amazing served for dinner next to some freshly grilled chorizo.

Sweet summer treat

I’m going to admit it – I am pretty damn lucky. I live in an amazing part of the world surrounded by farmland, friends, mountain views and great food. Top that off with a job that allows me to combine all of these things and, well, things are pretty damn sweet. The past few weeks I’ve been grabbing some delicious fruit from the Market and nibbling on it throughout the week but the truth is, I can’t eat the fruit fast enough. So instead of letting it go to waste, I’ve been making the most delicious, simple and summery treat I can think of: cobbler.

Last week it was cherry cobbler, this week it’s been peach and next week who knows? Maybe plum? Yum! Cobbler is so amazingly simple to make, the toughest part is waiting the 45 minutes for it to cook. It’s best served warm with a scoop of vanilla ice cream (Battenkill Creamery is my choice) but I’ll fess up to eating it cold, straight from the pan for breakfast too!

Easy Fruit Cobbler

4 T butter

3/4 c. all-purpose flour

3/4 c. sugar

1 t. baking powder

1/4 t. salt (I usually skip)

3/4 c. milk

2 c. fresh fruit (sliced if needed)

1. Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Put butter in an 8-inch square pan and set in oven to melt. When butter is melted, remove from oven.
3. In a large bowl, whisk dry ingredients together. Add milk and whisk until it forms a smooth batter.
4. Pour batter into the pan then scatter the fruit evenly on top.
5. Bake until batter browns, about 45 to 50 minutes.

Eat and enjoy!

So I took a break

You may have noticed that I haven’t been around for a while. There have been no recipes, insights or reflections from me for nearly a month now. Somewhere along the line a week’s long break to get things in order here ended up being a month (or more). So where have I been and what have I been doing?

Well, I started a new job.

I am now the market manager at Schenectady Greenmarket. It’s only been a week, but what a week it’s been! I’m trying to get into the groove of balancing my new role with my writing and family and friends and all the other things that make up my days.

For those of you in the area, the Market runs on Sundays from 10 to 2 on Jay Street in Schenectady. Stop by, say “hi” and enjoy all the wonderful food and wonderful people the Market has to offer. I’ll see you there.

True north? Maybe not…

As soon as the sun begins to shine and the snow stops falling, my job requires that I am on the road visiting farmers. I love this part of the year…and I loath it. There are two fundamental truths I have discovered over the last few weeks:

1. I live in an amazingly beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful area of the country.
2. Despite printing up and following directions, I will get lost.

I told this to the Lemon Drop yesterday afternoon as I asked him to talk me out of the maze of back roads I was on in Rensselaer County. He just laughed and laughed. What makes the entire experience even more funny is that I have a master’s degree in geography.

It isn’t my fault though…

Sure, I have no sense of direction and I second guess any kind of instructions no matter how simple or exact. No, the problem is not on my end, it is with the directions themselves.

Why take me down six back roads when I could easily take a main route the entire way and then a left onto the desired street? Why aren’t roads marked? Or signs twisted so you think you are on the correct road only to realize 3.7 miles later you actually aren’t?

The only thing going for me is that I am not required to find my way around at night. I once had a 1.9 mile night-time journey take me an hour and a half because I missed the one and only left turn I had to make. Yes, a GPS would make my life simpler and my bitching wane, but I don’t think about it until I’m in the middle of nowhere on mile 4.2 when I was supposed to find Barton Road at the 1.6 mile mark. And I’ll forget about everything by the time I hit the road again on Friday.

My faults are many, I’ll admit. I have a problem with any kind of authority (shocker, I know). And I don’t like having to hand control over to anyone or anything (even directions) – I’ll do it, but grudgingly and I am always poised to snatch that control back at the slightest moment of weakness (huh, maybe that’s my issue with men?).

Is that why I keep getting lost? I don’t know and I’m not convinced. I still think Google Maps has it out for me.

Rhythm of the season

Spring has finally (kind of) made an appearance in Upstate New York. The Winter was cold and bitter and even snowy…but it was also long. Why is it that we spend all year complaining about the season we’re in? Winter is too cold (or too warm); Spring is too short, too rainy, too cold or non-existent all together; Summer is too hot, too wet, too dry; Fall is too short, too warm, too stormy. I’m just as guilty as the rest, I complain right along with everyone else.

To me, Spring is always about transformation and transformation is never easy or smooth. Transformation, instead, is about stormy emotions, destruction of the old, birth of the new. Muddy paths and windy nights; turmoil and chaos – that is what Spring brings. It is an unsettling of routines, souls and perspectives. It is scary and beautiful all in the same breath. It is about surrender and acceptance.

Spring in Upstate is also the time when fields are plowed and planted. It is the time when farmers emerge from their workshops rested and repaired with a curse on their lips and a prayer in their hearts, prepared for the marathon that is about to begin.

Farmers are always in a tussle with Mother Nature. Last year it was a record warm Spring and a devastating Summer drought. This year, it is the continued cold snap and flooding. We need to get seed in the ground so that it can mature in time and be ready for harvest but we also need the ground warm and dry enough to get into the fields.

For many of us who have a supporting role on farms or in farmers’ lives, planting means saying “goodbye” for a solid six (or more) weeks. I had my goodbye chat last night, planting hasn’t started, but it will in the next few days. There may be a quick call from a tractor cab here and there, but I’m not holding out a lot of hope. After seven years in the country, I’ve gotten used to the rhythm and the calendar that farm men live by. I’m not saying that I like it, I’m just used to it now.

Perky?

I’m in the process of getting back into the groove. I was in Vegas for a conference last week and I’m now off to another conference in Syracuse tomorrow. The only thing that seems to be getting me through the daylight hours is caffeine – a lot of caffeine.

Lucky for me, I just received a “new” coffee maker. Actually, it’s an ancient relic. A glass percolator that’s 6-cup designation is more like only 2 1/2 cups. It is beautiful, all gold and black and grandma-looking. I think that it was an unopened wedding gift from the 1960’s that somehow found its way to me. I am in love with my percolator, though I’ll admit that there have been a few issues along the way. Brewing a morning cup of joe in a percolator is more of an art than a mindless act of flipping a switch.

For example, if you let the water come to a full boil then you get a mess and a cup full of grounds. Actually, no matter what I do there is a small silt layer at the bottom of the pot every morning. I think that I need to purchase a larger ground coffee than the black-dirt richness that I bought for my other love – my silver one-cup espresso maker.

But regardless, I do not care. Good, bad or silty – my ancient percolator makes me think of breakfasts of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and grapefruit served in pretty breakfast nooks full of sunshine…even when all I have time for is a rushed cup of coffee in my car on the way to work.

The grinder, the dipper and the plaid in between

Ah, the pure joy that comes from people watching; from observing the male of the species try to win over the female…and from laughing your butt off as the entire episode unfolds. This is what an evening out at a club holds in store for the social scientist in me. Let me begin by stating that last night I went out with friends to help celebrate my brother’s birthday. We went to a club featuring country line dancing and karaoke.

Initial observations were:

1. 80% of the room wore plaid
2. 40% of the attendees were over the age of 55 (or at least looked it)
3. 10% of the men wore cowboy hats
4. 0% of the dancers smiled

Having taken in these facts, I was drawn to two distinct subjects for a further, more detailed study. The two men were clearly friends, had honed dance skills and were, by all accounts, very fine examples of the male form.

Subject A) The Grinder

Tall, fit and had the dance moves to make the ladies swoon. Add a great big black cowboy hat and The Grinder looked like he stepped right out of a romance novel. It was unclear if he’d come with a particular female, but it was apparent that he would be leaving with one. During a rare slow song about a pickup truck, a mourning brother, and a soldier’s death, The Grinder, well, ground against his female who in turn found the act appropriately respectful – for a slow, sad song about death.

Can I take a moment here? How could she keep a straight face? I would have started giggling so hard that I’d double over and likely start snorting. Nothing relays the deepest depths of despair like a good grind…

Subject B) The Dipper

The Grinder’s less able counterpart was The Dipper. The Dipper was again, fit and handsome though not to the extent of The Grinder. Whereas The Grinder honed in and devoted a large (though not exclusive) portion of his efforts on one woman, The Dipper spread a wider net – pulling women from the periphery of the dance floor. The Dipper never danced with the same woman twice and each encounter included his signature move: the dip, a thrilling and exciting maneuver that his partners apparently enjoyed though this was difficult to discern as, noted earlier, no one smiled whilst dancing.

Again, I would like to note that I would have burst out laughing. Have you ever been dipped? It’s kind of terrifying. Your body does not surrender its equilibrium easily. When you are returned to standing, you are light-headed, giddy and unnerved. Laughter is the natural reaction to such an unnatural move. Not one of The Dippers dance partners even cracked a smile.

Finally, it must be noted that both The Grinder and The Dipper clearly practice their courtship dances in the shared bachelor pad they inhabit. This deduction was derived by the Magic Mike-like performance they burst into when “Indian Outlaw” by Tim McGraw was played.

Conclusion: As ridiculous as their moves were, the entire excercise was successful. You could not help but watch and wonder…Oh, and clearly I have a hair-trigger when it comes to laughing. But really, how can you not laugh?

My favorite part of St. Patrick’s Day

I’ll be honest, I’ve never been a big St. Patrick’s Day observer. I don’t like the smell of corned beef and cabbage cooking away on the stove and I never understood what’s appealing about boiled veggies. I have made only one corned beef dinner in my life and that was only because a boyfriend asked for it. I will leave the corned beef to my friend Bridget, author of Ranch Wife Life. Bridget is a cattle rancher in Eastern Washington and works for the Washington State Beef Council. Her recipe is tested, tasted and approved and the veggies are roasted, not boiled – a plus in my book.

The one thing I do like about St. Patrick’s Day is Irish Soda Bread. I love it toasted with butter and honey. Why is it only an annual treat? Soda bread is simple to make, quick to bake and intensely satisfying to eat. It should be a weekend standard, not just a holiday treat.

1/4 c. butter, melted
2 T. sugar
2 c. flour
1/2 t. baking soda
2 t. baking powder
pinch salt
1/2 c. buttermilk
1 egg, beaten

1. Pre-heat oven to 375 degrees F.
2. In a large bowl, combine all ingredients until a ball is formed.
3. Turn dough out onto counter and knead for three to four minutes.
4. Form into a round approximately seven inches wide and two inches high and cut cross on top.
5. Place on parchment lined baking sheet and bake 35 to 45 minutes or until a knife comes clean when poked into bread.