Farm Breakfast

Hi everyone! I'm finally back in Portland, though not without a few mishaps along the way. My car is currently stuck down in Grants Pass, at the Nissan dealership, due to what has been so delicately termed as 'CATASTROPHIC ENGINE FAILURE'. Yep. Plus, my family is in town, for my mom's outrageously short summer vacation (she teaches special education, and between summer school and the regular year she gets too-little time off. But she's amazing, so she's totally ok with it), and we've been spending all of our time on the phone with various customer service representatives. Not a lot of fun. I have so many amazing things to share with you, but it's been tough to steal away to the computer to talk about veggies while I'm dealing with a minor vehicular emergency.

But hey, this is a food blog, not a complaints form, so, how about some shots of a gorgeous breakfast made from ingredients from my family's farm, Camp Joy, in Boulder Creek, California!


A simple bowl of oats, fruit, nuts, yogurt, and honey, enjoyed on the porch of the old house on the hill above the farm. There is really no way to express how amazing this place is. It's more than a farm, its a place of family, education, children, love, good food, good music, community, continuity, generations, activism, sustainability, appreciation, and perfect California sunlight. Coming here is coming home, and I am so grateful that, in this special place, the journey from farm to fork is a matter of feet, not thousands of miles. What's more, the beauty of the people that take care of this land really shows in the quality of the food, the health of the plants, and the happiness of the animals. It is so inspiring to be connected to something so fundamentally part of the solution to our world's problems. Starting with breakfast.

The apples and berries came from the orchard and blackberry patch. The yogurt was made the day before from fresh goats milk, from the happy, silly goats on the farm. Check out this goofball, on the roof of the goat house...



The honey is from bees, constantly buzzing around the lavender and every other plant. Once, I was digging up potatoes and got stung by a bee, right in the middle of my forehead. I got a big, swollen red bump, right on my third eye. Since then, the Camp Joy bees and I have been polite, but wary. That being said, I am extremely grateful for what they do for the garden and the world. A pollinator researcher, E.O. Wilson, famously stated in 1996 that we should, every third bite of food we take, thank a bee. And that number goes way up on a small, organic farm. So, thanks bees.



It just feels better to know where my food comes from, not to mention to have a small hand in picking it, raising it, fermenting it, and loving the land it comes from. It's how I eat well, and hope to for many years to come.

Baked Huevos Rancheros with Squash, Peppers, and Soyrizo

I've got so much food left to use before tomorrow's market. Next year, I'm getting a half share. It's Friday, and I've still got a bunch of cauliflower, fava beans, and a big pot of lentil-veggie soup I made up yesterday that will probably find its way to the freezer. Maybe I just need to have more dinner parties.



I bought a bottle of enchilada sauce at Trader Joe's last week, and it has been working its way into just about everything I eat. I was going to make a simple eggy scramble with some fresh squash and peppers from the CSA box, but I thought, why not jazz it up a bit and pull out a ramekin for some baked eggs.


Uh oh, now you know the sad state of my non-stick pans...

While the oven was preheating to 350 degrees, I diced and sauteed one yellow pattypan squash with one green chile, and added a bit of soyrizo, a soy version of chorizo that I also got at TJ's. When such a cool store is literally across the street, it's hard not to pick up fun stuff like that. I added a bit of enchilada sauce and spooned the mixture into a ramekin, topped with some shredded cheese, and cracked an egg on top. Into the oven for about 10 minutes, though mine took longer because I really hate runny egg whites. Just keep an eye on it, until it's cooked how you like it.

That's it! Pretty simple, I just topped mine with some greek yogurt and pico de gallo salsa, toasted up some sourdough, and enjoyed some brunch in my pajamas. Life is good. Anyone want some veggies?



Eat well!

Best Zucchini Bread Ever

Every vegetable enthusiast has a special place in her heart for the humble zucchini bread. It's one of those cherished ways to make a dent in the inevitable onslaught of summer squash, and it's always fun to sneak healthy (green!) food into baked goods. The only problem is that most zucchini breads have a lot of white. White flour and white sugar, that is. It's really hard to find a recipe that uses 100% whole wheat flour, people just seem afraid that the result will be inedible without some refined, bleached flour. In the pursuit of a healthier, happier zucchini bread, I decided to take on those critics. Also, I still have the better half of a 50 lb bag of whole wheat flour in my kitchen cupboard. Full disclosure.

I'm not going to lie, I'm really proud of this recipe. It was, as these things have been going lately, greatly accidental, but this time I measured my ingredients and was rewarded with something well worth making and passing on. In addition to using only whole wheat flour, I used maple syrup instead of white sugar, and I used a combination of fats - good cream butter and some raw coconut oil, melted down and mixed with fresh eggs. I added the zest and juice of one lemon (note to parents: bring more lemons when you visit, I'm almost out! And some figs, while you're at it!). It's all pretty simple, but, trust me here, this is the best zucchini bread ever. Hands down. And packed into the whole-wheat,maple-y goodness is 3 packed cups of grated zucchini. I don't really know what made it so good, but it's moist, decadent, and just the right mount of sweet. I think this will become a summer staple around my house, and it should freeze really well.

Lesson learned, we shouldn't be afraid of 100% whole wheat. It can lead to some pretty fabulous recipes.

Eat well!



100% Whole Wheat Maple Zucchini Bread
3 Eggs
1/2 cup melted butter
1/2 cup raw coconut oil, melted
1 1/4 cup real maple syrup
Zest and Juice of 1 Lemon
3 cups well packed Shredded Zucchini
2 1/2 cups Whole Wheat Flour
1/2 tsp Salt
1 tsp Cinnamon
1 tsp Baking Soda
1/2 tsp Baking Powder

Preheat oven to 325.

In a large bowl, beat eggs, butter, oil, lemon zest, lemon juice, and syrup together. In a separate bowl, whisk the flour, salt, cinnamon, baking soda, and baking powder. Stir the dry ingredients into the wet and fold in the zucchini.

Pour batter into two greased 9 inch loaf pans. Bake 50 minutes or a tester comes out clean. Enjoy!

Cinnamon Apple-Raisin Oat Bread

According to my National Parks Calendar and the definitive Google homepage, today is the first day of Spring!

Here in Portland, the sun has been taking turns with the rain, and there is a distinctive honesty to the air that tempts your nose with traces of winter daphne and fireplace smoke. The daffodils are out if full force, standing guard in small battalions around the city and along my walk to the store. I bought a dollar bag of organic Columbia Gorge Fujis at Limbo this week, thinking they would tide me over until the inevitable produce splurge that will be tomorrow's farmers' market. Unfortunately, the apples were a bit past their prime, which explains how I got 10 for a buck. As I'm sure many of you know, an ugly fruit has never stopped me, so I made a HUGE batch of Cinnamon Raisin bread (three big loaves) and added a few cups of diced apples for extra sweetness and texture. It's hard to go wrong with a good cinnamon bread, and the house smells almost as good as the air outside.

For some reason this dough did not want to rise, but the resulting bread was pleasantly hearty without being too dense. I used all-purpose flour instead of bread flour, but It's probably for the best, because a lighter crumb would have fallen apart in the toaster, and this bread begs to be toasted. Also, the recipe measurements are a bit wonky, as I had to convert them from metric quantities. Someday I'll get a kitchen scale, but for now, my haphazard measuring-cup methods aren't causing too many disasters.

I've got two loaves saved for a breakfast-for-dinner part tonight, complete with some honey-cinnamon butter I made by setting a stick of butter near the kitchen window, adding a few tablespoons of honey, two teaspoons of cinnamon, and mixing. Simple, yes, but this tastes SO good on the toasted bread, with the sweet bits of raisin and apple scattered through the slice.

The rest of the apples will be used to make a caramel apple pancake topping, which will be a sort of farewell to the winter flavors I've loved for the past few months before I set of for a greener palate.

Hope to see you at the market tomorrow, and I would love to hear about the signs of spring where you live, culinary or otherwise. Eat Well!

Cinnamon Apple-Raisin Oat Bread
Adapted from Jeffrey Hamelman's Bread
Makes 3 loaves
5 1/2 cups bread or all-purpose unbleached flour
1 7/8 cups whole wheat flour
1 5/8 cups rolled oats
2 1/2 cups water, divided into 2 cups and 1/2 cup
3/8 cups half-and-half or milk
3 tablespoons honey
5 1/2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 tablespoons plus 1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/4 tablespoon dry active yeast
2 tablespoons ground cinnamon
1 cups soaked and drained raisins
1 1/2 cups diced apples

While you measure and mix the other ingredients, soak the raisins in warm water. Next, soak the oats in a large bowl in the 2 cups water for 20 to 30 minutes. Proof the yeast in the remaining 1/2 cup warm water for about 7 minutes. Mix the flours, yeast, milk, honey, oil, salt, and cinnamon into the oats. Mix well, until all of the flour is hydrated. Knead by hand for 5 minutes or in a standmixer for 3, then mix in the drained raisins. Knead or mix until the raisins are distributed throughout the dough.

Cover the bowl of dough and allow it to rise for 1 hour. Then remove the dough from the bowl and fold it, deflating it gently as you do. Place the dough on a floured work surface, top side down. Fold the dough in thirds, like a letter. Fold in thirds again the other way. Flip the dough over, dust off as much of the raw flour as you can, and place it back into the bowl. Cover the bowl and allow the dough to rise in bulk again for another hour. Then divide the dough in thirds and shape the loaves. Place each shaped loaf into a greased bread pan. Spray or gently brush each loaf with water and sprinkle with some more oats. Cover the pans and set aside to rise until the loaves crest above the edge of the pans, roughly 90 minutes. Preheat the oven to 450. Place the loaves in the center rack of the oven. After 5 minutes, reduce the oven temperature to 375. Rotate the loaves 180 degrees after 20 minutes, and bake for another 15 to 25 minutes, until the tops of the loaves are nicely browned, the bottoms of the loaves make a hollow sound when tapped. Cool before slicing.

Challah French Toast with Sauteed Apples

Ah, winter bliss. Finals are over, and I'm snowed in with plenty of time to bake in a warm kitchen. Honestly, I don't know how these few days of vacation could get any better. Oh wait, yes I do - Challah! I adore making challah. There's something so satisfying about putting together a few simple ingredients and making something that tastes just right every time. It's such a familiar taste, sweet, eggy, fluffy bread - with a bit of honey it tastes like every great challah I've ever had.



With the snow falling outside, I'm just about falling apart with happiness. Portland is really beautiful in the snow, though I have to admit I haven't seen much of it. I have this fear of being in vehicles in the snow, so I've been stuck within a mile's radius of my house since last weekend. Luckily, everything I need is within walking distance, and it's really fun to get all bundled up to walk like a penguin to the coffee shop for hot chocolate while my bread rises.

I used my no-fail challah recipe from Beth Hensperger's Bread Bible. EVERYONE who wants to dabble in home bread baking needs this book, and since I didn't change the recipe at all, I'll encourage you to go find your own copy. Hint - it's also on google books.

Plus, when you make challah, that means you get to make challah french toast! I'm STILL working my way through a big box of apples (yes, the same apples from the great Thanksgiving Pie Event). Winter fruits and vegetables are miracles, honestly. Anyway, I thought I'd make a sauteed apple syrup for my french toast, and it turned out so well, especially with a bit of creamy yogurt. I'll make it through this winter, farmers market or not. If every morning could be like this morning, I don't think I'd have any problems at all.



Stay warm, drive safely and eat well!

Here's the recipe for my challah french toast. Perfect thing for a lazy, snowy morning.

Challah French Toast with Sauteed Apples

Ingredients
5 eggs
1 cup half-and-half or milk
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 large loaf challah
Unsalted butter
Vegetable oil

For topping:
4 large apples
1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
2 tablespoons butter

Optional: greek yogurt, whipped cream, Crème fraîche, or vanilla ice cream, if you dare.

Directions
Preheat the oven to 250 degrees F.

In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, half-and-half, and vanilla. Pour mixture into shallow container, like a pie pan or deep plate. Slice the challah into thick slices, and soak slices in the egg mixture for 5 minutes, turning once.

Heat 1 tablespoon butter and 1 tablespoon oil in a very large saute pan over medium heat. Add the soaked bread and cook for 2 to 3 minutes on each side, until nicely browned. Place the cooked French toast on a sheet pan and keep it warm in the oven. Fry the remaining soaked bread slices, adding butter and oil as needed, until it's all cooked.

Peel, core, Chop apples. Melt butter over medium heat. Add apples and cook until almost soft, about 6 minutes. Stir in sugar and cinnamon, and cook until combined and syrupy, about 2 minutes. Spoon over french toast and serve with creamy topping of your choice. Dust with powdered sugar, and enjoy!

Happy Birthday Muffins!

Today is my roommate Dragonfruit's birthday, a perfect morning mid-way through a long weekend, when we realize we still have two days of relaxation ahead of us. Why not spend a few minutes making warm, filling breakfast muffins for one of my best friends, simply because she deserves it. Oh, and because I still have a giant box of local apples sitting in my living room. 

I'm pretty sure everyone in my life is tired of sugary, apple-y baked goods. I know apples will last forever, but I can't justify buying more fruit until I've used up the box. The solution? Whole-wheat and multigrain spice apple muffins, made with nonfat yogurt and sweetened with a bit of agave. They were perfect, the apples were sweeter for the lack of sugar, and the oat crumble topping was deliciously crisp with a touch of salt. 

I had originally wanted to grate the apples, and I would really recommend it if you have the time or desire - it would distribute the sweetness throughout the muffin. To save time, using my trusty apple-peeler-corer-slicer, I chopped the apples into a small dice - little gems of fruit in the finished muffins. 

I used an organic whole multi-grain hot cereal blend from Trader Joe's - with barley, rye, oats, and wheat - and organic blue agave nectar. Try these when you want something wholesome and hearty - perfect for a cloudy late fall (fine, winter) morning with good friends and tea. 

Organic Multigrain Apple Muffins with Agave

Batter:
1 1/2 cups 100% whole wheat flour
1 cups organic multi-grain hot cereal blend (or steel cut oats)
1 1/2 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp nutmeg
1 tsp ginger
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 cup canola oil or non-hydrogenated margarine, melted
1/3 cup organic agave nectar
2 large organic eggs
1/2 cup milk (cow, soy, or almond all would work)
1/2 cup plain yogurt (any kind - I used non-fat)
1 tsp vanilla
1 1/2 cups grated or diced apple pieces

Topping:
1 cup multigrain cereal or oats
2 tbsp agave nectar
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp salt
2 tbsp canola oil or melted margarine

Preheat oven to 325.

In a large bowl, whisk together grains, flour, baking soda, salt, and spices. Stir in apple pieces. In a standing mixer or in a large bowl with a whisk combine the oil, agave, eggs, yogurt, milk, and vanilla. Fold in the dry ingredients until just combined. Mix together topping. Pour into muffin tins and sprinkle with topping.
Bake for about 25 minutes or until golden brown - these are best after they've had a chance to cool in the pan, as the flavors combine and they are much easier to remove. Enjoy!

Beat the Heat with Ugly Fruit

While I fully believe farm fresh, local, organic food is tastier, more nutritious, better for the world, and more nurturing for our bodies and souls, there exists a fact that might be considered a downside to turning away from conventional early picking and gassing to ripeness - some fresh produce doesn't last as long as it's supermarket cousin.

This makes sense when you consider what it takes to get a factory-farmed tomato to stay pretty and red in a pile in the produce section, weeks after being picked. A tomato bound for the big-box store is harvested while still green. In order to "force ripen" them, they are loaded into large "gas houses" and exposed to large quantities of ethylene gas - which, in its natural state, is produced by the fruit itself to facilitate ripening. Basically, the gas tricks the tomato into blushing red - but does nothing to mimic that fresh-off the vine juiciness and flavor. Gonna eat that rock hard Roma? Might as well be eating a green one.

The process is roughly the same for a lot of fruits and veggies - stone fruits like peaches and apricots are so juicy when ripe that they are picked weeks before they're ready. If you haven't had the chance to eat a peach from the farmers' market lately, you're in for a surprise - the peaches at the store could be considered "stone" fruits in more ways than one.

This "downside" should in fact be appreciated. From observing how local, fresh food lasts (or, at times, doesn't) we can gain an understanding about the natural process of ripening and increase our skepticism towards those tasteless supermarket finds. Of course, through all of this, the obvious fact is that fruit and veggies are best eaten right away.

But sometimes, Limbo has giant bags of local apricots for a dollar. And they aren't pretty. But they are local, plentiful, delicious, and a dollar. And so you find yourself buying FAR TOO MANY APRICOTS. The first few are ambrosial - sweet, juicy, melt-in-your mouth amazing - but then I realized that I'm stuck with a lot of ugly fruit that won't be getting much prettier.

The truth is, while rock hard fruit might stand the test of time and win a beauty contest, and can withstand countless "squeeze tests" in the story - the ugly fruit just plain tastes better. Cooks Illustrated recently featured a story about how to make your "hard, mealy super-market peaches" into a passable shortcake. Um, thanks anyway, but I'll stick with my ugly fruit.

So begins my attempts to bite my thumb at mass-market false-ripened fruits and make the most of the summer bounty. I'm talkin' jams, tarts, ice cream sauces, ICE CREAMS, and, yesterday, the best smoothie I've had in a while.

It might not have been the best choice to declare the birth of Bread Tuesday on the second hottest day of the summer. Going out and watering the garden in the 97 degree heat was a relief after standing over a 350 degree oven. Yeah, I know, not the best planning. But I had my productive pants on! You can't just postpone bread-making plans! So bake I did.

While the results were great, I needed to escape the kitchen. I looked over at the fruit bowl (which - for all the overflowing - might as well be the fruit counter top) and spied my bag of ugly fruit. Ah, poor little apricots, you are so tasty, but how will I use you up? Looking back toward the butcher block where my bread was rising, I see my blender peaking up over the big stainless-steel bowl, virtually screaming at me to make a smoothie.

Eager to blend up something cold and hightail it out of the baking inferno, I pitted about six of the apricots and a big peach that was hidden in the dollar bag - even uglier than the apricots - and threw them in the blender with some blueberries and a handful of mint. A few ice cubes and a minute of shrieking from the blender and there it was - a minty ugly fruit smoothie - my ticket to paradise.



Though the situation might have made me a bit biased - hot kitchens on hot days make anything cold seem godly - but this smoothie was AMAZING. Falling-apart-ripe fruit is meant for this kind of thing. I'm going to pit the rest of the apricots and freeze them so I don't need to use ice next time. Or maybe I'll make ice cream... or a tart... or jam... oh goodness, I think another trip to Limbo is in order... Need more ugly fruit!

This is a submission to A Southern Grace's Beat the Heat event. Check it out!

A Family Affair on Bread Tuesday

I woke up early this morning and declared it Bread Tuesday. I thought I'd better get to work using up the HUNDRED pounds of flour I bought this week, and set aside a few hours to make a lot of whole wheat bread - some to eat, some to freeze for later, some to bribe my loved ones with...

After a lovely morning of crossword puzzles, eggs benedict, and a whirlwind of spontaneous laundry sorting, I tied on my apron, turned on the radio, and got to work. Only one problem - the kitchen was a disaster zone. I live with my best friends, and none of us are especially messy individuals, but with the combined kitchen clutter output of my thrice daily cooking adventures and the sheer volume of kitchen usage between the five of us - it's bound to get pretty hectic. Oh, and how.

Luckily, I had my productive pants on and I happily got to work scrubbing, rinsing, drying, organizing, and sweeping up the accumulated kitchen lives of five twenty-somethings. I don't know when I became one of those people that loves doing dishes, but surely enough, I geek out over steel wool and soap bubbles. I was just about to settle into scraping the gunk from around the electric stove burners, when I realized I was having too much fun and it was time to get to work. Leaving the less-than-perfect stove top, I pulled out the big canister of whole wheat flour from the cupboard, snatched the yeast from the freezer, and was just about the heat some water to between 105 and 115 degrees, when I noticed something looking at me.

There, on the counter next to the garlic, were five brown, spotty bananas. My roommate Dragonfruit has this habit of buying weekly dollar bags of dozens of bananas from Limbo, and uses them as her primary source of nutrition until they run out. The promise of making banana bread with the mushiest of them floats in and out of actualization, but most of the time they disappear one by one as D gets hungry, their sad, brown peels lying in the compost next to the beet greens. Setting my yeast back in the freezer for a few more hours, I decide to make the dream a reality - it was Bread Tuesday after all - and banana bread there would be.

Here's where the family bit comes in. Growing up, my family used cookbooks even less than I do now - we had a series of truly reliable dishes in a relatively constant rotation, and if it was anything other than baked chicken thighs or spaghetti, my parents didn't need a recipe to whip up something new. The Joy of Cooking came out once in a while for cookies or cakes, but for the most part, we got along fine without help. Because of this, the few cookbooks we owned sat in the dining room closet dubbed the Liquor Cabinet - a full-sized shelved closet filled with homeopathic remedies, a bunch of random serving platters, the ice bucket for parties, and the same twelve bottles of liquor we only used when my grandparents came over. On the highest shelf of this random collection sat the cookbooks, lined up and gathering dust - save for the previously mentioned Joy and one other: My First Cookbook by Rena Coyle.

This was officially my older sister Casey's cookbook, and we would use it for after school snacks and the occasional breakfast in bed we'd make for our parents birthdays, anniversaries, sick days and such. Casey still waxes poetic about a certain recipe we made, spending an entire afternoon assembling a fancy chicken dinner of chicken thighs, canned cream soup, frozen mixed vegetables, and tubed biscuit dough (the tops of the biscuits would get all brown and the bottoms would stay gooey and doughy - which was a delight, believe it or not).

I'm pretty sure the only reason we even talk this book anymore is a certain Banana Nut Bread recipe. A few years ago, Casey wanted to make something special for her then-boyfriend, and remembered the famously moist banana bread recipe from the "teddy bear" cookbook, still at our parents' house on the top shelf. She called up Mom and Dad and asked them for the recipe, and the perfect banana bread was born again in New York. I emailed Casey this morning and asked her to send me the recipe, thinking she'd just send back a few paragraphs of text, but nope - I opened my email and found scanned images of the two pages from the original book, teddy bear illustrations and all.

She's not seeing that guy anymore, but you bet your buttons those scanned pages are still with here everywhere - literally - she's still got them on her iPod Touch. We'd made a batch a few weeks ago when I was down in California, and I thought I'd play with the recipe using a few of D's spotty bananas, lest they keep staring and distracting me from making the most of Bread Tuesday.

As I'm mixing up the bread - which gets its amazing tenderness from sour cream - I get two emails from Casey and my mom, simultaneously. Casey's says,

"Subject: my first cookbook
its called my first cookbook by rena coyle. mom says the page is covered in flour, banana and dough"

and Mom's reads,

"Subject: I just smelled the bear recipe of banana bread...
It does smell, even tastes like banana bread. Bob tasted some of the crumbs of dough on the page. Will be looking for the blog about it."

This is my family. Spread across the country, but united by the internet and a recipe. Three separate kitchens, in three corners of the nation, will smell like banana bread today. You should join us, and have a fantastic Bread Tuesday.

Eat Well.


It doesn't surprise me that my dad tasted dough that has been smooshed between the pages of a children's cookbook for what must have been years, but you will be surprised by how good this banana bread is. As much as this story is about the original Banana Nut Bread, I just had to tweak it a bit. I'm me, afterall. I used 100% whole wheat flour, a bit of cocoa, some dried cranberries, and replaced the walnuts with sunflower seeds. Here's the recipe for my version of the Perfect Banana Bread.

Seedy Cocoa-Cranberry Banana Bread
adapted from Rena Coyle's My First Cookbook, 1985

1/2 cup butter plus 1 Tbs for greasing pan
2 cups whole wheat flour
3 Tbs unsweetened cocoa
3/4 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
3/4 cup sugar
2 eggs
3 very ripe bananas
2 Tbs sour cream
1/2 cup dried cranberries
1/2 cup raw, shelled sunflower seeds

Preheat oven to 350. Grease a loaf pan with butter. Mix flour, cocoa, baking soda, and salt in a small bowl. Cream together butter and sugar with hand mixer until creamy. Add eggs and beat until incorporated. Add cocoa/flour mixture and beat until smooth. USING YOUR HANDS, mush bananas into batter, leaving some large chunks. Add sour cream, seeds, and cranberries and mix until evenly distributed. Pour batter into loaf pan, scraping bowl with a rubber spatula. Bake for one hour and 10 minutes, or until the bread pulls away from the sides of the pan. Let cool, slice, and enjoy with family.

Save a few crumbs for future memories.

A Bit of Sunny Improvisation

A beautiful morning in Portland found me scrounging in the crisper for zippy bags of leftover chopped veggies. It's been such a great week for local vegetable finds that I had to break my near-ritual of flax-amaranth-corn cereal for breakfast, and what better way to use all those odds and ends than a classic fritatta.

I'm happily chopping along, gathering ingredients, appreciating the beauty of a huge fresh shallot from Sun Gold farms, and set to make a tasty, cheesy, morning veggie pie. Only, HOLD THE PHONE. There is no cheese in the fridge. None. Nada. Note to self - cheese shopping, pronto.

Now, I used to be a vegan. I can play the improvisational substitution game like a pro. But the reason that's "used to be" is simple: I love cheese. So what's a girl to do? What can approximate a creamy goat cheese or ricotta, a tangy blue or melty havarti... Gazing mournfully at the fridge, I stretch my imagination about as far as it will go, and pick up a tub of basil hummus. It's creamy... kind of tangy... and that shallot looks good enough to be the star of this dish, so why not. I settle in, layering squash and mushrooms in a pie pan, sautéing the shallot in butter and adding some gorgeous eggs from my neighbor's chickens before adding it all to the layer veggies. Final touch before she's off to the broiler, a few swirls and dollops of herby hummus. Crossing my fingers, I place the pan in the oven and wait.



The result was a surprisingly creamy, flavorful dish. I was spot on when I called the shallots the star of the dish, sweet and rich, I'll have to pick up some more of those at the farmer's market on Saturday. I don't think I'll be replacing all of my cheese with hummus, but it certainly did the job and made the most out of a beautiful bunch of vegetables. Crisis averted!

Enjoy your Friday, friends.
Eat well.