Portland Farmers' Market Photo Tour: Early April Edition in Shades of Rhubarb and Tulip

Portland Farmers' Market Photo Tour: Opening Day 2011

Portland Farmers' Market Countdown: One Month to Go!

Today, my dearies, we find ourselves under sunny skies in Portland, just one month from the opening of the Portland Farmers' Market on March 19th. In a few short weeks, my Saturdays will be spent in my favorite place in town, amidst potatoes and greens and farmers in the beating heart of our city. The weekend of March 19th, 20th, and 21st will certainly be a busy one for this gal - I'll be elbow-deep in James Beard mania, hopping around town with my camera and a smile, doing my best to soak in the excitement surrounding the announcement of the James Beard nominees on Monday morning. 2011 is the first year the nominees are being revealed in Beard's hometown, and the weekend leading up to Monday's main event will be packed with events that will undoubtedly leave me hungover and ecstatic. I'm more than stoked. I'm also pretty positive the market's opening day will draw out some national food bigwigs in town for the announcements, but the real celebrities will be the market staff and farmers ringing in the true start of the new year.

PFM Chef in the Market with Jenn Louis of Lincoln Restaurant

This past Saturday I had the pleasure of hosting the Portland Farmers' Market Chef in he Market with Jenn Louis, chef and co-owner of Lincoln Restaurant, a gem of a local spot in North Portland on North Williams, and owner of Culinary Artistry, the wonderful Portland caterer. Jenn and I made Ribollita, a hearty stew-like soup with a name that means "re-boiled" and is perfect for cool fall days like today, with rich flavors of beefsteak tomatoes, summer squash, sweet onions, cabbage, and all topped with the infamous Redmondo cheese from Juniper Grove. It's the only hard cheese at the market, so we use it in what seems like EVERY demo... I didn't get enough of Jenn at the market, so my sister Casey and I stopped by Lincoln for dinner that night.


We had some great cocktails, including the Don Draper (Bourbon, muddled orange, brown sugar, and bitters - I'm going through a whiskey/bourbon phase) and the Rhubarb Pisco Sour (Rhubarb liqueur, pisco brandy, lemon juice, egg whites, and bitters) and some out of this world appetizers, as well as some truly tasty entrees. We got:

• Baked hen eggs with cream, castelvetrano olives and herbed breadcrumbs - Perfectly baked eggs with yummy green olives and grated cheese, perfect for dipping with their AMAZING french bread. Seriously, Lincoln's bread was so unexpectedly good it stopped both of us mid-sentence. How many times to you hear me say that about a slice of white bread?
• Bari cucumbers with oil-cured olives, mint and sheep’s milk feta - Ok, I'm going to admit it, Casey ordered this one and I was skeptical. Ten bucks for some cucumbers? Sure, they were fancy cucumbers, but still. And then I took a bite, and quite my snarking, because OH MY GOODNESS these weren't just cucumbers. They were so intensely spicy, sour, sweet, and just plain flavorful, I was actually sad when the plate was cleared. (Oh, and in case you're wondering, Bari cucumbers are those ridged, pale yellowish cukes at the market.) I would really love the recipe for this dish, and hope its on the menu next time we stop by.
• Malloreddus with rabbit ragu and chicken of the woods mushrooms - This was the ultimate comfort food dish... I kept trying to compare it to something, like my mother's spaghetti, gnocchi from Austria, mashed potatoes and gravy from Mimi's Cafe or IKEA, and in a moment of weakness, to Chef Boyardee. Malloreddus are these small, dumpling-like noodles, cooked in saffron broth and topped with this great, meaty sauce. I'd like to describe how fun this was to eat, but it involves describing kind of intricate tongue maneuvers that maybe don't belong on a food blog...
• Pork chop with crispy potatoes, rosemary, roasted peach conserva and vin cotto - This was the only "meh" thing we ordered - well, other than the ill-advised lemon and rosemary house soda. The potatoes were a bit underdone, and the pork didn't have a lot of style. It was kind of just a big hunk o' meat, which would be great for some people, but it overwhelmed the awesome peach sauce and greens.

All in all, a tasty meal. Jenn's husband and Lincoln co-owner David Welch sat us in a rather sad little corner table, and we didn't realize until we were leaving that Lincoln has a gorgeous open kitchen with bar seating that would have set the night over the top. I'm just happiest in a restaurant when I can see the action, talk to the chefs and staff, and generally be a part of the hubbub instead of it being hidden away. I made a mental tally of all of my favorite restaurants in Portland, and without exception all of them have quite visible kitchens, while the restaurants I love to hate hide the cooking "mess" from the clientele. Put me on a stool in front of a hot grill and I'm a happy, happy girl. A cute chef doesn't hurt either.

Oh well, next time we'll be sure to sit at the bar and order twice as many Don Drapers...

Though the weather on Saturday still had that summery heaviness to it, I'm writing this wrapped in blankets in my living room, looking out on the rainiest day this season, drinking hot chai with a cat curled up on my feet. It's perfect weather for a slow, flavorful soup full of end-of-summer flavors, but its hard to let go of the days of perfect tomatoes and basil salads. It seems that this time of year the weather is so unpredictable that I'm tempted to keep my pantry and fridge stocked with everything - ingredients for comforting, warm meals as well as light, no-heat meals - just in case the Portland weather gods decide to throw another heat wave at us. I'm headed down next week to Santa Cruz, California to my family farm, Camp Joy, for the annual Harvest Dinner. You can almost guarantee the weather will be deliciously warm, perfect for dinner outside with friends and family under the stars. I promise I'll take too many photos and notes to share with you, but until then keep eating well, and enjoy the rest of these photos of Jenn Louis and the Saturday Portland Farmers' Market.

Ribollita de Lincoln Restaurant
Recipe from Jenn Louis, Lincoln Restaurant
"Ribollita means re-boiled. Make this soup, put it in your fridge overnight, and re-warm to serve."

Ingredients
1 medium onion, small dice
2 large garlic cloves, minced
1/2 bulb fennel, small dice
2 bay leaves
2 inch piece rosemary
pinch chili flakes
8 large beefsteak tomatoes, peeled and seeded
3 medium summer squash: zucchini, crookneck or patty pay, medium dice
16 oz shell beans, canned or fresh: cannellini, borlotti, or corona work well
1/2 medium green cabbage, sliced thinly
Fresh herbs: oregano, basil, parsley, roughly chopped

Directions

• Slowly sauté onion, garlic, fennel, bay, rosemary and chile until vegetables are soft, but not colored
• Add summer squash and continue to cook until squash is tender
• Add chopped tomatoes and their juices and cook over medium heat, until sauce starts to thicken
• Add beans and cabbage, cook until heated through and season to taste
• If needed, thin with vegetable or chicken stock
• Stir in fresh herbs when serving
• Finish with pecorino or other hard grating cheese, drizzle with olive oil, and serve with crusty bread, brushed with olive oil and toasted.

Portland Farmers' Market Photos: Saturday at PSU 8/14/10

Pietopia 2010 at Buckman Farmers' Market

Prints inspired by the winning pie recipes and their stories:



For more info about Pietopia 2010, including winning recipes and stories, click here.
All photos © Allison Jones 2010. Full sized images here.

Photo Credits and Market Props

Hey guys... The lovely Mona from the Portland Farmers' Market just let me know that a photo of mine was featured on CNN.com's America's Best Farmers' Markets! I love it when PFM gets the credit it so very much deserves (even if they just talk about our mushrooms...) and it doesn't hurt to see my name along the side of a photo on CNN: the fine print on the right side there says "Courtesy Allison Jones/Portland Farmers' Market"... The article focuses on the appeal of farmers' markets for travelers, and I certainly agree with some of their picks. The Portland Farmers' Market (presumably the PSU incarnation) joins the Columbia City Farmers Market in Seattle, Santa Monica Farmers' Market, Alemany Farmers' Market and Ferry Plaza Farmers Market in San Fransisco, Green City Market in Chicago, the The Union Square Greenmarket in NYC, Santa Fe Farmers Market (with its ungodly variety of chili peppers for sale), Dupont Circle Freshfarm Market in D.C., and the Flint Farmers' Market in Flint, Michigan.

Someday I hope to travel and take pictures (and tastes) of all of the markets on the list, but until then, I'm happy with my hometown favorite. The farmers' market at Portland State University on Saturdays is far and away one of the best things to do in Portland, whether you're a visitor or a long-time resident. When you're only in town for a weekend, it's like a little microcosm of the region, because you get a glimpse of the local food scene, the seasonal changes, the popular music and fashion, the attitude... and when you live in Portland, the farmers' market can become a social hub, a grocery store, and, at least for me, a home away from home and a launching pad for a career. Check out the full article here: America's Best Farmers' Markets, and be sure to check out the farmers' market next time you're in Portland. I'll show you around!

Seared Buffalo Liver with Roasted Vegetables and Quinoa Pilaf

While strolling through the market snapping photos on Saturday, I wandered up to the Pine Mountain Ranch booth to buy some eggs when I noticed they had chicken livers and hearts. I'd been wanting to make my own chopped liver for a while, so I inquired about the chicken parts. In what is quickly becoming a trend in my life, I was told that someone had just snapped up the last of the chicken bits but they had a package of buffalo livers available. As with the lamb tongues, I rolled with the punches, bought the liver, and set home to do some research. On the walk home, I called my sister Casey and told her I'd scored some buffalo liver, to which she responded, "Is this going to be your new thing? Eating weird parts?" I guess so, Casey. I guess so.

After some straightforward Googling of "buffalo liver," "bison liver," and even "beef liver" to round out the information hunt, I found out that soaking liver is pretty much suggested across the board. Some people recommend soaking in milk, others lemon or tomato juice, and a few prefer wine or another alcohol. This is really doing two things: The acids in the milk/juice/booze help tenderize the meat, and they tone down the strong flavor that liver can carry with it, especially if the liver comes from an older animal. I knew the livers I bought were probably the best money could buy, so I wasn't really worried about masking any off flavors, but I chose to marinate in red wine to be on the safe side (also, wine is rarely a bad idea). On another note, liver can be difficult to slice, but my friendly ranchers packaged the buffalo pre-sliced so I didn't have to worry about it. Perfect slices of even width made my job pretty easy.

A few hours of marinating later, I turned my cast iron pan up to smokin' hot, and seared the livers without letting them overcook, and served them up with flash roasted (really, broiled) veggies and some quinoa pilaf (which is just quinoa cooked in water with oregano, garlic powder, thyme, salt and pepper, and a skosh of tomato paste). I was pleasantly surprised! Yes, it tastes like liver, but the first taste on the tip of my tongue was of a really good steak - likely due to the caramelization of the searing...

(SCIENTIST SISTER EDIT: If you are talking about caramelization, it can't be caramelization of the meat. You might be able to get away with caramelizing the residual sugars of the wine in your marinade but you will never caramelize liver because caramelization refers exclusively to the decomposition of sugar with applied heat. In the case of a fatty meat, the browning and goodness that comes with searing is a complex mixture of reactions known collectively as the Maillard reaction which requires sugars, amino acids, and heat. And specifically, the reaction most likely occurring in your lean liver is decomposition of myoglobin, the protein that makes up muscle. Right! Thanks, Casey!)

I topped off the liver and veggies with a balsamic vinegar reduction, which basically entails boiling some balsamic vinegar until it reduces to a thick, delicious sauce that perfectly complemented the meat. Livers are really good for you, super lean with all of the good vitamins and nutrients, but when you're eating organ meats you really want to make sure you're getting the best quality, organic animal possible. Hormones and anitbiotics can concentrate in places like the liver, giving you a concentrated shot of all the nasty stuff. Luckily, they're about the cheapest meat sold at the farmers' market, so treat yourself to the best organic, pasture-raised liver you can buy from someone you trust. It won't put you out more than a couple of bucks.

Pine Mountain Ranch raises some might fine bison, all grass-fed and loved. My friend Nate asked me if I felt odd about eating buffalo, given that less than a century ago they were all but extinct. The truth of the matter is that most of the bison rehabilitation efforts have been due to the increased demand for buffalo/bison meat. In his book, Renewing America's Food Traditions: Saving and Savoring the Continent's Most Endangered Foods, conservation scientist Gary Paul Nabhan argues that by creating a culinary market for many of the endangered species of North America, the buffalo included, actions may be taken by private and public organizations to increase the population and establish safe havens for them. The owner of Pine Mountain Ranch, Alan Rousseau, has said of the buffalo: "Because of their majesty, and their place in history as a symbol of America, I have set a personal goal to return Buffalo to the wild, by way of a state or national park. This way, more of the public can be educated on the Buffalo, and hopefully be as inspired as I am by these magnificent creatures, which are as much a part of this great country as the Bald Eagle."

Perhaps more than most ranchers, Pine Mountain makes a point of using the whole animal - which is why I could find livers, hearts, feet, and tongues at the Portland farmers' market. Reducing waste, valuing the whole animal, and respecting the integrity of the species are reasons to feel good about eating those "weird parts" of the animals, while supporting local ranchers and their goals of rehabilitating and respecting the land and its sensitive ecology.

Plus, it's really tasty.

Chef in the Market with David Anderson of Genoa

Yesterday I had the pleasure of hosting a demonstration at the PSU Portland Farmers' Market with Chef David Anderson of the newly-reopened Genoa and its sister restaurant Accanto, and we had a really great time. This weekend's weather has been a bit confusing, starting off cool and cloudy and slowly burning off to a gorgeous sunny day, so our audience started a bit on the small side. Once people around the market started smelling frying pancetta and caramelizing apricots, however, we had quite the crowd. David was great, sharing stories from Genoa's past and present and explaining how the menu has been "traveling through Italy" as the seasons change in Portland.

Every month, the restaurant features a five-course prix fixe menu highlighting the specialties of a single region in Italy, and David selects the region based on the pairing of authentic ingredients with what's available in the markets in Portland. This month the menu features Chef David's interpretation of dishes from Abruzzo and Molise, a region nestled at the border of Northern and Southern Italy in the highland foothills of the Apennine mountains. The mouthwatering offerings include:

• Scamorze allo spiedo: Creamy scamorza cheese (a stretched cow's milk cheese similar to mozzarella) skewered on rosemary stems, pan seared and served with marinated baby artichokes and pickled asparagus.
• Farfalline con pisselli e fave: small hand-made pasta butterflies tossed in a savory San Marzano tomato sauce with Viridian Farms peas, fava beans, lemon zest and fresh sheeps milk ricotta.
• Pasta alla chitarra con ragu d’agnello: fresh egg and semolina pasta cut on a traditional chitarra or “guitar” tossed with a ragu of Cattail Creek lamb and sweet peppers.
• Scapece di salmone alla vastese: salad of wild Oregon Sockeye salmon marinated in champagne vinegar, white verjus (a very acidic juice made from pressing unripe grapes), saffron and aromatic vegetables served over baby spinach, sweet basil and Yukon gold potatoes.
• Dentice e calamari in purgatorio: Line caught pacific rockfish and calamari sautéed in a spicy sauce of onions, white wine, tomatoes and dried chiles.
• Coniglio alla grigliata misti: Mixed grill of rabbit; tender loin skewered with house made rabbit sausage and kidney served with airy potato croquettes and caramelized baby fennel.
• Lombatine pepate e fiamma: Grilled Pepper and herb crusted strip loin steak flamed with strega liquor and served with a saffron risotto stuffed pepper and a raw zucchini and mint salad.

David told us that he loves featuring regional cuisines because it gives him a chance to learn about the ingredients, culture, and history of a region, as well as pick up new techniques and traditional combinations. It's great to know that even Portland's top chefs continue to learn about food and regional cuisine long after they've established themselves as knowledgeable and skilled in the kitchen. There's so much rich food tradition out there that it'd be impossible to know everything before you begin - so get out there and start some hands-on learning. You're in good company.

Start your culinary tour of Italy via Oregon's farm-fresh bounty with what may be the perfect summer salad: Crispy pancetta cubes, sweet and tart apricots with a perfect sear in butter and honey, peppery arugula and fresh basil leaves, and a sprinkling of the Oregon favorite, Marionberries, and fresh, creamy ricotta cheese. Chef David provides a step-by-step guide for making this delicious dish, which would make a great summer meal on its own, or serve as the starter for your next five-course supper party extravaganza. Eat well, or perhaps more appropriately, buon appetito!

Caramelized Apricot Salad with Arugula, Basil, Pancetta, Marionberries, and Fresh Ricotta
Recipe courtesy of Chef David Anderson of Genoa and Accanto, 2010
Serves six as a starter or four as a light meal

For the vinaigrette:
1 pound pancetta, cut into lardoons (bite sized chunks)
2 tablespoons minced shallots
1/4 cup Balsamic vinegar, preferably 12 year
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
Salt and Pepper to Taste

1. Place the pancetta and the olive oil in a small sauté pan and slowly bring up the heat to render out the fat. Leave over a low flame until the pancetta starts to color.
2. Drain the pancetta reserving the fat into a separate bowl. Keep the pancetta lardoons warm or at room temperature.
3. Put the pan back over the heat and add the shallots. Sweat for a few minutes until soft then deglaze with the balsamic vinegar.
4. Whisk in the reserved fat and taste for seasoning.

For the apricots:
6 apricots, ripe but firm, cut in half vertically and pitted
4 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons honey
Salt and pepper to taste

1. Heat butter slowly in a wide sauté pan. As soon as butter foam subsides add the aprictos cut side down.
2. Raise the heat and lightly caramelize the apricots. Add the honey and toss well. Remove from the heat and cool slightly.
3. Cut into wedges and taste for seasoning.

For the salad:
3 bunches of fresh arugula, washed and stemmed
1 bunch of basil, stemmed, leaves roughly torn
1/4 pound fresh ricotta, crumbled
Reserved pancetta cubes
Marionberries
Apricots
Vinaigrette
Salt and pepper to taste

In a large mixing bowl toss the apricots, arugula, and basil with enough of the vinaigrette to coat. Taste for seasoning and garnish with pancetta, berries, and ricotta.

Market Photo Report: Bacon Pickles and the Perfect Corn

Yes, you read that correctly. Bacon pickles. Unbound Pickling is satisfying that seemingly insatiable Portland pork hunger with a hickory-smoked dill pickle that would be happy on any burger, though there isn't actually any bacon in the brine. Sneaky pandering marketing? Brilliant idea? Either way they are damn tasty.

The PSU market was intimidatingly busy, as per usual, but it was worth braving the crowds for the first corn, colorful cauliflower as big as my head, great walla walla sweet onions, and the piles and piles of carrots reigning over the rest of the early summer bounty. Check it out for yourself next weekend, at the South Park Blocks on the PSU Campus, 8:30 to 2 pm. See you there.

Crispy Fried Lamb Tongues

Though I’ve long been interested in the lesser-utilized animal parts schlepped in blue and white coolers to the Portland Farmer’s Market, I hadn’t intended on having lamb tongues in my freezer.

I had ordered a cow tongue from one of the market’s ranchers on a rainy Saturday morning, and had been fine with waiting the two weeks for the special request. I couldn’t expect them to bring every bit of offal, eyeball, and taste bud to the market every week. I thought I’d try my hand at some lengua sliders or lengua tacos and had been excited to finally buy some meat from the market. I can’t typically afford a whole chicken or prime steaks, and I figured that if I could find an affordable and delicious piece of meat from the best ranchers in the country, I could handle a slight stretch of my imagination and a little extra work.

On the agreed-upon day, I walked up and, no doubt with a goofy grin plastered on my face, greeted Dick Sexton and reminded him I’d ordered the tongue. He proceeded to pull out four tiny vacuum-packed frozen bits of… something.

I must have looked mighty confused because he said, “You did want lamb tongues, right? I didn’t think anyone would want just one, so I brought four of them.” After a very brief moment of consideration, I responded, “Nope! I wanted a beef tongue, but these will do just fine.” A little embarrassed about the confusion, he eagerly wrapped up my tongues in a brown paper bag, charged me less than three dollars, and asked me what I planned on doing with them. Smiling, I told him I had absolutely no idea.

For the rest of the market day I had a lot of fun showing off my purchases to the market staff, reveling in the combination of gross-out powers and foodie adventurism afforded by these next-to-free tongue popsicles. After cradling my prize back to my apartment, I threw the tongues in the freezer where they sat for a few weeks while I summoned the inspiration for a recipe and the courage to actually go through with it. Cooking tongues requires a strong stomach and a delicate touch, but with the right treatment they turn into tender morsels that taste like the platonic form of whatever animal they came from.

I settled on a recipe from Vitaly Paley from Paley’s Place that had been featured in Edible Portland a while back. It had far too many steps for my typical repertoire, but I was completely in the dark about what to do with my lambsicles and was willing to yield to a master.

The recipe wanted me to brine the tongues overnight in a spiced brine of kosher salt, sugar, a cinnamon stick, peppercorns, and bay leaves. I ended up throwing in a few tablespoons of mulling spices because I didn’t have a cinnamon stick, and I really like the flavor my brine gave the meat. After brining, the tongues got a low and slow poach in court bouillon (I used my standard broth method and added wine) for two hours before peeling.

And then it got intense.

Up until the peeling, you don’t really have to confront the fact that these are tongues, fully intact, with taste buds and connective tendons and saliva glands and a thick outer skin that feels, well, a lot like a tongue. When Vitaly asks you to “Trim and clean the tongues of gristle, fat and bone while the meat is still warm“ and use a paring knife to peel the outer skin from the inner meat, you do it, and you don’t look back. I won’t get all hackneyed and fall over myself about how I had a moment of connection with an animal that had a good life not far from town, and how for a tiny amount of cash money I was able to prepare some of the tastiest, most tender lamb I’ve ever made. Nope, none of that. It was actually pretty harrowing. Of course, as with any dramatic moment in my life, my camera, fitted with a macro lens, was near at hand.

After a rather tedious peeling session, which left me with a small pile of tongue sheddings, I dredged the tongues in spiced flour, then egg, then breadcrumbs I’d made by throwing a handful of rye crackers into the food processor. I’d pre-heated a cast iron pan with a half-inch of canola oil, and after that it was pretty smooth sailing. The tongues were fully cooked so it was just a matter of getting the breading golden and heated through. I’m not one to waste dredgings or oil, so I also battered some kale and fried up some greens and polenta (yum!).

I served these now-unrecognizable “lamb fingers” with a parsley aioli, and, if I may say so, felt pretty darn happy with myself. I braved my first battle with offal, and it was wonderfully tasty. If you’re feeling a bit adventurous and you don’t live with anyone who would disown you for storing a bucket of tongues in the fridge overnight, go talk to your local rancher and find out what little odd bits you can buy for a song. If you’re lucky, you’ll be given the wrong thing and have to get a little creative, and maybe a little freaked out, but it will be worth it.

Look! I did the whole post without a single tongue/offal/lamb pun! Now THAT’S an accomplishment.

PALEY'S CRISP PAN-FRIED LAMB TONGUE
From Vitaly Paley, Chef/Owner, Paley's Place

Brine
1 cup Kosher salt
1/4 cup sugar
4 qt cold water
1 2-inch cinnamon stick
5 bay leaves
1/4 cup black peppercorns
6 whole lamb tongues

Court Bouillon
1/2 bottle dry white wine
1 qt cold water
1 large carrot, chopped coarsely
1 whole onion, peeled
1 whole clove
1 tsp salt
1/4 cup black peppercorns

Breading
1 cup all-purpose flour
2 Tbsp smoky Spanish paprika
Pinch of cayenne
1 tsp sea salt
12 grindings black pepper
3 whole eggs
1 cup fine bread crumbs
2 cup grapeseed oil

To make the brine, select a large pot, add all the ingredients, and bring the liquid to a rolling boil. Shut the heat off and allow the mixture to cool to room temperature. Transfer the tongues to the container in which they will refrigerate, pour the brine over the meat, cover, and refrigerate for 24 hours.

The next day, prepare the court bouillon for poaching the tongues. Add equal parts water and wine to a 3-quart pot, add carrot, onion, clove, salt and pepper, and bring the liquid to a boil. Simmer for about 30 minutes to develop flavor. Slip the brined tongues into the poaching liquid and simmer gently for two hours. Discard the brining liquid. When a knife inserts easily into the meat, remove the tongues to a cutting board. To reuse the poaching liquid, strain and refrigerate; it will hold for about a week.

Trim and clean the tongues of gristle, fat and bone while the meat is still warm. Use a small paring knife to separate the outer membrane to reveal the inner meat. Set them aside.

To bread the tongues, arrange three small bowls side by side on the work surface. In the first bowl, sift together the flour, paprika, cayenne, salt, and pepper. Crack the eggs into the second bowl and beat them with a fork until frothy. Place the crumbs in the third bowl.

Pick up a tongue and dredge it evenly in the flour, then shake off the excess. Drop it into the egg bowl. Use the other hand to transfer it from the egg bowl to the crumb bowl. Once covered in crumbs, place the tongue on a wire rack. Repeat the breading process with the remaining pieces. To keep the flour and crumbs from clumping, use one hand for dry ingredients, the other for wet.

A 9-inch skillet should be large enough to hold all the tongues without crowding. Add 1/2 inch of oil and place the pan on high heat until the oil reaches 350 degrees. Lower the heat to medium-high, place the breaded tongues in the oil, and fry until they are uniformly golden, about 45 seconds to a minute. Turn the tongues, making sure the crumbs don't burn. When the desired color is achieved, transfer the tongues to a plate lined with a paper towel and immediately season with a light sprinkling of sea salt.

Place one tongue on a cutting board and slice it on the diagonal into finger-thick slices. Arrange the slices on a plate, and serve immediately.

Market Photo Report: Peaches, Peppers, Pops, and a Birthday Pose

Today brought the first (early) peaches of the year to the market.
The first bell peppers rang in July, and Sol Pops had a very good day with the weather the way it's been.
Jamie, one of our fabulous market coordinators and the organization behind the Chef in the Market, celebrated a birthday in style.
In other news, my apartment is REALLY, REALLY, REALLY hot.

In fact, it's too hot for writing full paragraphs. Enjoy the pretty.