Purple Potato Salad with Sunchokes, Eggs, and Creole Cream

This dish is one of those immensely satisfying uses of interesting ingredients from my local farms and artisan food vendors, on a beautiful day simply dripping with promises of Summer. The weather this weekend was so mind-numbingly perfect - light breeze, low seventies, clear skies - that I'm almost positive nobody in the city accomplished anything more than a park stroll and a picnic. Which is, incidentally, exactly what I think a weekend should be.

In a comical contrast to last weekend's rainy, freezing market Saturday, this week's market was one of the best attended in my memory. This is the first year the Portland Farmers Market has ceased allowing pet access in the market, and it was clear to see why - there was hardly enough room for the shoppers! Every farmer I talked to was all smiles, joking about how the ups and downs of the weather effect the market as much as the farm.

This weekend we were all like new crops, reaching our leaves up to the sunny warmth, and getting our nourishment from the water, soil, and sun of Oregon. And nowhere was it more evident than the PSU market.



I picked up some of my favorite market finds - purple Peruvian potatoes! - from Prairie Creek Farms' booth. These little jewels are a relatively recent cross between the All Blue and Russian Blue varieties, and feature a striking blue-purple center with white rings. Inspired, headed off to find another basket of sunchokes. I had a salad in mind, and nothing was going to get in my way.

Well, that is, until I was distracted by the return of Pam Kraemer and the Dulcet Cuisine table! If you haven't heard of Dulcet's ketchups, sauces, spice rubs, and mustards, I'm sorry. If you have, you'll know that they have on of the friendliest, taster-friendly booths at the market, and sophisticated, locally-crafted condiments. I picked up some Creole Mustard and set off the finish tracking down the ingredients for my feels-like-summer Purple Potato Salad!



I peeled and chopped up 2 pounds of the purple potatoes, 1 pound of sunchokes (which I didn't peel), and simmered the tubers in a big pot for 15 minutes. I drained the roots and let them cool to room temp in a big bowl. I hard-boiled three eggs, chopped them up, and diced half a purple onion. Throwing everything into the bowl and lightly tossing, all I had to do was whip up a dressing. In a small bowl, I mixed a half cup of plain yogurt, two tablespoons mayonnaise, a tablespoon of the Creole mustard, two tablspoons of cider vinegar, salt, and pepper, and drizzled this over the potato/sunchoke mix. Yum.

Wouldn't this be perfect for a Passover or Easter lunch? Such pretty colors - just calling out to be eaten while sitting on a blanket in the middle of a park, getting absolutely nothing accomplished. And not regretting it one bit.

The rain will be back, the cool will have a bit more fun with us before this kind of weather is the norm, and I won't be able to sit here with a hint of a sunburn, avoiding my classwork for much longer. But we can soak it up while we can, and taste the flavors of summer, even in April. Eat well, friends. Enjoy the sun.

Sunny Sunchoke Pickles

The first time someone served me sunchokes (also known as Jerusalem artichokes), it was pureed - a sort of creamy mash with a nutty flavor. The next time I ate them, they were served as creamy sunchoke mush... and the next, well, I think you get the point. What do you do with a little root that looks like a potato or a piece of ginger, and is sold as an "artichok" (see below)? Apparently, you mash it with butter. Don't get me wrong, I love things mashed with butter. It's one of my favorite ways to eat, well, anything, but it also seems a shame to mask the interesting shape and flavor of this relative of the sunflower by treating it like a potato with an identity crisis.

I wanted to branch out a bit, so I pickled mine! I'm not going to claim this was complete ingenuity - people have been making sunchoke relish and pickles for centuries, but I was pleased to make something fresh and crisp from the oft-mashed veggie.



It seems that the culinary world is a bit confused by this tuber, and if you look at its history, you shouldn't be surprised. The sunchoke is one of the few tubers native to this part of the world - indigenous peoples of America have been growing and eating sunchokes for centuries. Apparently, the Europeans were subject to rumors that the plant was dangerous if eaten. Some brave soul decided to try one anyway (maybe in a game of truth or dare), and figured out that it was mighty tasty. After this, the story goes that some French explorer took some plants back to an Italian friend, who, upon remarking that its flavor resembled an artichoke, named the tuber "girasole articicco," meaning, "sunflower artichoke."

Like a game of telephone gone goofy, English speakers flubbed up the name and called in a Jerusalem Artichoke - though they have absolutely no connection to the holy city. Ah, but the name stuck, and perhaps the early myths of the danger have survived through history, because these tasty guys are still on the fringes of the culinary world. Don't worry, they are only myths. The sunchoke is the root of the Helianthus tuberosus, which looks like a mini sunflower. Also, they seem to be a good starch alternative for diabetics, because the substance that allows the tuber to make it through the winter, inulin (not insulin), breaks down into fructose instead of glucose during digestion. Sunchokes are completely safe, even if they won't be winning any beauty contests.

It was pretty empowering to make a batch of pickles, even if they were simply refrigerator pickles that didn't require any special sterilization or months of waiting. My roommates weren't too happy that I made the house smell like vinegar and spices, but by now they are used to my kitchen escapades and didn't complain. Much. A week in the fridge, and these pickles were ready for eating. They are so good, I've thrown in a bunch of veggies to the juice to pickle-ify them. The sunchokes themselves taste a bit like artichokes with the texture of jicama. A great way to try the weird looking tubers from the farmers market, with no danger at all. Well, except that vinegar smell.

Good luck, and Eat Well!

Oakley's Sunchoke Pickles

2 pounds sunchokes
1 red bell pepper
1 quart water, plus 1 cup
4 tablespoons salt, divided in half
3 cups cider vinegar
2 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon peppercorns
1 teaspoon celery seed
1 teaspoon mustard seed
1/2 teaspoon turmeric

Cut the sunchokes and bell peppers into thick slices (about 1/4 inch), and combine with the water and 2 tablespoons of salt. Let soak overnight in the fridge. Drain and rinse well.
Bring the cider vinegar, 1 cup of water, the remaining 2 tablespoons of salt, sugar, and all the spices to a boil for 6 minutes. Plug your nose and alert your roommates.
Pack a jar (or jars) with sunchokes and peppers, and pour the hot vinegar mixture over the veggies up to 1/2 inch below the neck. Place any remaining spices in the pot into the jars. Allow to cool, cover, and store in the refrigerator for a week before eating. These will keep for about 4 weeks in the refrigerator. Enjoy!

Baked Chioggia Beet Chips

I've been spending a lot of time in the kitchen this week. It's my Spring Break, and instead of gallivanting off to some exotic locale, I figured I'd be happiest if I spent the week at home, catching up with some books, recipes, and movies with my housemates. Of course, that means more time for the blog, which has made me very happy, indeed. And with all of this produce from the first farmers' market of the year, this break couldn't have come at a better time.

I had grabbed three big Chioggia Beets, an Italian heirloom variety with gorgeous stripes of pink and white. Also known as candy-stripe or bulls-eye beets, these little guys are one of my favorite farmers' market finds. Oh, and I asked the farmer, and now can proudly pronounce their name correctly - it's kee-oh-gee-ya!



I've had a beet chip recipe tucked away from an old issue of Gourmet. The original recipe blanches the beets in a simple syrup before baking, but I think I prefer blanching in plain water and tossing with a bit of canola oil and sea salt. Chioggia beets can be sweeter than standard beets, so I didn't feel the need to add more sugar.



I sliced the beets paper-thin with my mandolin, though next time I'll slice them thicker, as they crumbled quite a bit when they cooled. Plus, a thicker chip will hold up to a dip, which is always a good thing. The trick with these chips is to take them out of the oven earlier than you think. They won't get crispy in the oven, they need to crisp as they cool, so start checking by taking a few out of the oven instead of peaking at them while they are still inside.



The result is a sweet little chip - they shrink a lot, because the water in them is not replaced by the usual oil of frying - and they would be a good way to get some extra fiber and plenty of other nutritional boosts: they are high in folic acid (great for pregnant women), potassium, calcium and antioxidants (betacyanin, which is what gives beets their rich red color). A perfect snack from a superfood with style.

Tomorrow it's back to school, but I only have a few weeks left. This last lap will be a killer, but I'll make it through to find summer waiting at the finish line. Until then, I'll be sneaking into the kitchen every chance I get, and can't wait to share those adventures with you.

Eat well!

Baked Chioggia Beet Chips

For chips

* 2 medium beets with stems trimmed to 1 inch
* 1 cup water
* 1 Tablespoon canola oil
* Sea salt

Peel beets with a vegetable peeler, then slice thinly (but not too thinly) with mandolin or sharp knife, using stems as handles.

Bring water to a boil in a saucepan. Add beets, then remove pan from heat and let stand 15 minutes. Drain beets in a colander, discarding liquid, then let stand in colander 15 minutes more. Toss beets with oil and salt.

Put oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 225°F.

Line a shallow baking pan with nonstick liner, then arrange beet slices snugly in 1 layer. Bake beets until dry, about 45 minutes to 1 hour. Immediately transfer chips to a rack to cool (chips will crisp as they cool).

Mushroom Root Vegetable Pie with Cheddar Rosemary Biscuits

I'm not going to lie. Blogging about local, sustainable foods is not as easy in the winter. Everything seems to be the same color.

Don't get me wrong, I still love root vegetables, winter squash, hearty greens, and fresh baked goods as much as the next guy, but I've found myself glancing through old blog photos, dominated by bright shades of green, red, orange, purple... And to think the first farmers market is still a few months off, it's hard not to be a bit less than enchanted by the offerings of these darker, browner months.

I know eating like this through winter will make the spring harvest that much better, and there is something incredibly satisfying about casserole, soup, and roasted vegetables.

That being said, one of the best things about dishes like this root vegetable and mushroom casserole, adapted from this month's Bon Appetit magazine, is that they make life a little easier after I realized asparagus season is still months away.

Luckily, Portland has been getting good doses of winter sun, and I can still find local supplies, from cheese to apples to mushrooms, at a few local vendors. We'll make it, and maybe I'll be a bit more diligent about freezing and preserving the bumper crops this summer.

Eat well, stay warm, and keep your spirits up!

Root Vegetable and Mushroom Pie with Cheddar Rosemary Biscuit Topping
8 to 10 Servings
Adapted from Jeanne Thiel Kelley's recipe
Bon Appetit, March 2009

Ingredients
Filling
6 cups homemade vegetable or chicken broth
3 large carrots, cut crosswise into 1/2-inch pieces
3 large celery stalks, cut into 1/2-inch pieces
2 large parsnips, quartered lengthwise, cut crosswise into 1/2-inch pieces
1 large rutabaga, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
1 large sweet potato, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
3 yukon gold potatoes, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
1 oz shitake mushrooms, halved
2 portobello mushroom caps
3 tablespoons butter or olive oil
3 cups chopped onions
4 large garlic cloves, chopped
1 teaspoon minced fresh rosemary
1/2 cup all purpose flour
1/2 cup heavy whipping cream
2 tablespoons dry Sherry or red wine

BISCUITS
2 1/4 cups unbleached all purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
2 teaspoons minced fresh rosemary
1 teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons (3/4 stick) chilled unsalted butter, diced
2 cups grated cheddar cheese
1 1/3 cups (or more) chilled buttermilk

PREPARATION
FILLING
Bring broth boil in large pot over medium-high heat. Add carrots and next 5 ingredients. Simmer until vegetables are tender, about 7 minutes. Drain; reserve vegetables and broth.
Melt butter in same pot over medium heat. Add onions; sauté until beginning to brown, about 10 minutes. Mix in garlic and rosemary; stir 2 minutes. Add flour; stir 1 minute. Gradually whisk in reserved broth, then cream and Sherry. Cook until sauce is thick and reduced to 4 cups, whisking often, about 8 minutes. Mix in mushrooms and reserved vegetables. Season with salt and pepper. Transfer filling to buttered 13x9x2-inch baking dish.
Preheat oven to 400°F. Bake filling, covered, until bubbling, about 50 minutes. Meanwhile, prepare biscuits.
BISCUITS
Stir first 4 ingredients in large bowl to blend. Add butter. Using fingertips, rub in butter until mixture resembles coarse meal. Mix in cheese. Gradually add 1 1/3 cups buttermilk, tossing with fork until dough is evenly moistened and adding more buttermilk by tablespoonfuls if dry.
Drop biscuit dough atop hot filling by heaping tablespoonfuls; sprinkle with pepper. Bake uncovered until tester inserted into center of biscuits comes out clean, about 45 minutes. Cool 15 minutes.

Snowed In, Day 2: Sweet Potato Cinnamon Rolls

We got another few inches of snow overnight, and we woke up to freezing rain, which made a thick crust of ice over the fluffy snow. Reeeeally fun to walk in, even more fun to sled in, but not very fun to drive in, or, as it turns out, to fly in either.

A mess of flights out of PDX were cancelled or delayed today. Difficult for travelers, good business for airport stores and restaurants! When we think airport delays, I'd bet a lot of us think about distracting ourselves with a sweet, icing-slathered roll of dough - yes, the Cinnabon. I don't think we have a Cinnabon franchise at PDX, but I think the urge exists nonetheless.

In honor of my friends and neighbors stranded in our newly-frosted city, I thought I'd create a cinnamon roll using Oregon produce. This time of year, that means one of a few things: winter greens, apples, and root vegetables. While a kale sweet roll would be, well, an experiment, I think sweet potatoes lend themselves a bit more to a tribute dessert.



My roommates Weasel and Greenbriar had a fantastic time sledding down our street, and were more than delighted to be met with a smell of cinnamon sugar and pecans as they peeled off their gloves, scarves, and snow clothes.

After the first bite, Weasel squealed, "You made these... from scratch?" Yes, darlin', it's not like I've got anything else to do. Sooner or later, cabin fever will set in, but until then, we'll be eating well.

Travel safe!

Sweet Potato Cinnamon Rolls with Maple Cream Cheese Glaze
adapted from Beth Hensperger's Bread Bible

Dough
1 medium sweet potato (about 6 ounces), peeled and cut into large chunks
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 tablespoon active dry yeast
1/2 cup (packed) brown sugar
1/4 cup warm water
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 large egg, room temperature
1 teaspoon salt
5 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

Filling
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
1 1/4 cups (packed) light brown sugar
1 1/2 tablespoons cinnamon
1 cup raisins, plumped in hot water and drained
1 cup chopped pecans

Glaze
1 1/2 cups powdered sugar
5 tablespoons milk
2 tablespoons real maple syrup
1/4 cup cream cheese, softened
1/4 teaspoon salt

In a medium saucepan, combine the sweet potato chunks with water to cover. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to low, and cook uncovered about 20 minutes. Drain the sweet potato, reserving 1 cup of the liquid. let the potato water cool to warm. Meanwhile, process the sweet potato with the butter in a food mill placed over a large bowl, or purée in a food processor until smooth.
Pour the warm water (not the potato water - the other 1/4 cup) in a small bowl. Sprinkle the yeast and a pinch of the brown sugar over the surface of the water. Stir to dissolve and let stand at room temperature until foamy, about 10 minutes.
In a large mixing bowl with a whisk or in the work bowl of a stand mixer fitted with paddle attachment, combine the pureed sweet potato, the potato water, yeast mixture, the remaining brown sugar, oil, egg, salt, and 2 cups of flour. Beat hard to combine, about 1 minute. Add the remaining flour, 1/2 cup at a time, until a shaggy dough that just clears the side of the bowl is formed.
Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured work surface and knead until smooth and springy, about 4 minutes, dusting with flour only 1 tablespoon at a time as needed to prevent sticking. If kneading by machine, switch from paddle to dough hook and knead for 3 to 4 minutes, or until the dough is smooth and springy and springs back when pressed. If desired, transfer the dough to a floured surface and knead briefly by hand.
Place the dough in a greased deep container. Turn once to coat the top and cover with plastic wrap. Let rise in a warm place until doubled in bulk, 1 to 1 1/2 hours. Gently deflate the dough and let rise a second time until doubled in bulk, 50 minutes to an hour.
Gently deflate the dough. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured work surface. Divide the dough into two equal portions. Roll out each portion into a 10-by-14 inch rectangle, at least 1/4 inch thick. Brush the surface of each rectangle with the melted butter. Sprinkle the surface of each rectangle evenly with half of the brown sugar, cinnamon, raisins, and pecans, leaving about 1 each around the borders. Starting from the 10 inch end, roll the dough up and pinch seams together. Using a sharp knife, cut each roll into 1 inch slices. Place each slice on baking sheet, at least two inches apart. Cover loosely with with plastic wrap and let rise at room temperature just until puffy, about 20 minutes.
Twenty minutes before baking, preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Place the baking sheet on a rack in the center of the oven and bake 30 minutes, or until golden brown and firm to the touch. Prepare glaze by combining the powdered sugar with milk, syrup, cream cheese, and salt, whisking until smooth. Drizzle mixture over over rolls, and let stand until warm. Enjoy!

Acorn Squash, Two Ways

We had a brief respite from the "arctic onslaught" yesterday, and I was able to zip around and get some errands done, enjoying the sun (!) around Portland. But, much to my delight, I woke up this morning to white flurries riding the wind outside my bedroom window - and a few inches on the ground. I'm so in love with snow, that I really don't mind that Portland ceases to function under these conditions. It means more time to read, more time to finish holiday presents, and more time to cook!

This morning's Farmers' Market would have been all about winter squash - the sturdy champion of these wintry days and nights - and I'm pretty sad I didn't get a chance to thank all of my favorite farmers for a great year. I thought I'd commemorate the end of market season by roasting a sweet little acorn squash, and proving that these guys are a food of many hats by doing a savory and sweet rendition for each half.

For the savory side, I crafted an open-faced sandwich using fresh Tuscan Peasant Bread that I made this morning. If you couldn't tell, I'm having the time of my life baking every day. I'm usually running around Portland, hopping from one task to another, that the though of making bread seems like an indulgence I don't have the time for, seeing as I'm rarely in the house for a few consecutive hours. But this week, what with this lovely winter weather that has shut down the city, I've got all the time in the world - what's a two hour rising time when I'm snowed in for the whole day?



Plus, I was able to roast my squash in the oven while the bread was baking. Hooray for multitasking. I didn't do anything fancy with the acorn squash - just cut it in have, scooped out the pulp, and dotted each with a pat of butter and some kosher salt. I nestled the halves into a shallow pie pan filled with about a half inch of water. The bread was baking for an hour at 425 degrees, so I left the squash in for the same amount of time. It's kind of hard to screw up winter squash.



I used Beth Hensperger's Tuscan Peasant Loaf recipe from (where else?) the Bread Bible, though I like to add a touch more salt and replace the sugar with honey. This bread has a great crust and a dense crumb - perfect for sandwiches! I took two big slices of the bread, brushed on a bit of olive oil and rubbed the slices with garlic. I layered on roasted zucchini, slices of one half of the acorn squash, and some slices of really good local havarti from Willamette Valley Cheese Company - my absolute favorite cheese - and popped it under the broiler for a minute, until the cheese was golden and the bread was toasty.

I mixed up some halved kalamata olives, capers, and balsamic vinegar to drizzle over the top. Yum. The zucchini, squash, and cheese melted together to a really creamy consistency, perfectly set off by the crunchy bread. This was SO filling, I had to put a half back in the fridge for later. I'm sure it will be just as good in a few hours.



For the sweet side, I called upon my mom's old trick to get us to eat banana squash - her's and everyone else's moms' - by sprinkling the other half with brown sugar and cinnamon. Nothing to it - creamy, sweet, a little salty, and a perfect accompaniment to the open-face sandwiches. No one could complain that it was the same ingredient twice - and it's a treat that would get anyone through a winter of squash!



Eat Well!

Sweet Potato Ginger-Stick Curry

Leave it to Lynne Rossetto Kasper to figure out what my stir-fries have been missing. I've been cooking my way through The Splendid Table's new cookbook, How to Eat Supper, and there has been no shortage of epiphanies and inspiration. I'm always looking for more things to do with sweet potatoes (she calls them yams) because I find myself buying more every time I go to the store. They are just so comforting, healthy, and they last forever. Sweet potato fries are a regular event at my house, but they never seem to fully explore the potential of the ingredient.

In this recipe, the fantastic Lynne treats the humble sweet potato the way it should be treated - with tons of flavor and complexity. Don't get me wrong, I find myself dreaming of a simple baked potato with butter and brown sugar a bit more than I'd like to admit, but all too often the tuber is tossed to the side. Here, it's the star.



She calls it a curry, which I suppose it might be and I'm just not up on the full range of uses of the word, but the strongest flavors are ginger, jalepeño, basil, and lime. Yum. The key here is the ginger - the recipe calls for ginger "peeled and sliced into paper-thin matchsticks". Luckily, I have a good knife, but I see how it might be a challenge.

Lynne says:

Cutting the ginger into paper-thin matchsticks may seem fussy, but there is method to what seems to be madness. That shape changes how you taste the ginger in this dish. Crushed or chopped ginger would taste different - an interesting thing to remember when you see very specific instructions like these in Chinese recipes. There's always a reason.

I made this dish twice, once as a simple stir fry and another to make lettuce wraps, where I pared it with fresh sliced cucumber, cashews, and yogurt in fresh butter lettuce leaves. Sadly, the book is due back to the library today, and the hold list is miles long, so I can't renew. My birthday's tomorrow, maybe I'll get my own copy. Hint hint.



Eat well!

Sweet Yams in Ginger-Stick Curry

Yams
4 quarts salted water
2 large Garnet or Jewel yams (about 1 3/4 pounds), peeled, halved lengthwise, and cut into 1/4-inch-thick half-rounds.

Curry
Extra Virgin Olive Oil
One 1 inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and sliced into paper-thin matchsticks
4 large garlic cloves, sliced paper thin
1 jalepeño, sliced very thin
2 whole scallions, cut into 1-inch lengths
2 large shallots, sliced thin
Salt and Pepper
1/2 light-packed cup fresh basil leaves, course chopped
Juice of 1 lime

1. Bring water to boil.
2. Once water is bubbling fiercely, drop in the yams and cook them at a hard bubble for 10 minutes, or until tender. Drain in a colander and turn into a serving dish. Set the pot back on the stove.
3. Generously film the pot with oil. Set it over medium-high heat and add the ginger, garlic, jalepeño, scallions, shallots, and generous sprinklings of salt and pepper. Saute for two minutes, stirring often. Then cover the pot tightly, reduce the heat to medium low, and cook for 5-8 minutes, or until the ginger has softened.
4. Stir in the basil and cook, uncovered, for no more than 30 seconds. Spoon curry over yams, and squeeze lime juice over the finished dish.

Finally! A Blog and a Bunch of Beets

I guess I knew this would happen. I had wanted to start a food blog a long time ago, and when I found myself with a bit of free time this summer, it became a reality. The problem (if you can call it that) is that all but the tiniest bits of that free time are now a distant memory, and I have gone a bit too long without a new post.

And it's not only that I don't have time to blog, I actually don't have much time to cook! As you could probably imagine, this is hard for me. I've been grabbing raw fruits, veggies, hard boiled eggs, and more cashew butter sandwiches than any one person needs to eat in a lifetime. Despite the monotony, I suppose if there was ever a time to eat mostly raw fruits and veggies it's in September in Portland. The farmers markets are overflowing with late summer goods, my garden is finally producing a solid round of tomatoes, and all of the fruit trees in my neighborhood are full of fruit.

In short, I'm not suffering for lack of good food. However, call me picky, but a photo of an apple and a few pieces of bread does not a successful blog make. But don't think that this is the end of Lemonbasil. Oh, no, my parents love this blog far too much for me to pack it up (hi guys). I'm just going to be aiming for two blogs a week, and not feel stressed that I haven't kept up with the greats of the blog world. I still bake for my friends most weekends, and I can't go too long without experimenting with some new recipe. Who knows? Perhaps I'll become an expert in how to cook with fresh, local foods in under ten minutes. Top that, Rachel Ray.

Life is really sweet right now, it's just very busy. And you know what every busy person needs... more fresh, local, fruits and vegetables! Here's a delicious salad I made from roasted cylinder beets and lemon cucumbers I got at the farmers market, topped with a cumin vinaigrette (inspired by this recipe). On the side are the beet greens sauteed in olive oil and garlic, with some fresh whole milk yogurt. Yum. I wish I had taken a picture of my plate when I was done - the beets and yogurt left a beautiful pink swirl. I admit it, I may not have much time to cook these days, but I still play with my food!

Be well, eat well, and enjoy the sun while it lasts.

Scarlet Beet Brownies and the Great Ingredient Hunt

First zucchini in chocolate cake, now beets in your brownies.

Yes, I'm slowly taking over the world with my sneak-attack veggies, bastardizing symbols of American cooking with local produce. And don't expect me to stop anytime soon.

I know, I know, brownies are pretty sacred. Adding beets is bound to be a bit of a scandal. When I made these for a group of strangers, who lacked the bulk of my friends' tolerance for my experimental baking, more than a few eyebrows were raised and the plate remained pretty full for a while. And then they tried them. Once the word got out that they were, well, amazing, they didn't last long.

Hey, no one complains about carrot cake or sweet potato pie. If people can put their root-vegetable blinders on for those treats, why shouldn't they be able to do the same for the beet? Besides, beets are a primary source of processed sugar. It seems only natural to add them to a dessert.

(For a snazzy and confusing schematic of the process of turning sugarbeets into sugar, click here!)



Before I get back to the beets, I'll clue you in on what I was doing on the East Coast, feeding a bunch of strangers. My sister, Casey, is getting her PhD at Princeton, and is also a major player in their student-run organic garden, The Garden Project, located in a great new plot surrounded by wild grapes, huge trees, and a picturesque ivy-covered stone wall. Overseen by the Office of Sustainability, The Garden Project has provided the Princeton food service with herbs and produce, and also hopes to use the garden as a community gathering spot and educate the campus about the American food system and the benefits of eating locally and sustainably. My family flew out to New Jersey last week to help with a garden party, showing off the garden to administrative VIPs and celebrating with friends (the aforementioned group of strangers). My dad constructed a fire pit and a great fruit stand/sink/prep station for the garden, and I painted the sign:


It was also my dad's birthday, my little sister's soon-to-be birthday, and a few weeks until the start of school - plenty of reasons to celebrate. In my life, the word "celebration" is pretty much synonymous with food. Cooking food, making a big deal out of presenting food, and eating far too much of it is how my family commemorated any big event. Or small one, for that matter. The element we've added to this ritual of celebration is the search for the best ingredients. The ladies of the family piled in the car and trekked around New Jersey gathering the best of the best the region had to offer.

We stopped at a Pennsylvania Dutch farmers market to sample cheeses and pick up "green pickles" (which were basically really fresh, salty cucumbers), four huge watermelons, and, one of my all-time favorite foods, Amish dilly beans. I adore Amish markets - so many smiling faces, handmade treats, and lots and lots of samples of everything from pickled kielbasa to peaches and cream cheese spread. The watermelons were amazing, definitely at the peak of their season.

Next stop was a farm stand known for its amazing corn. We got four dozen ears of corn, thinking we would be able to roast it on the fire pit Dad built, but we didn't get red-tape approval for an impromptu inferno of flaming doom on Princeton grounds (or something like that). It hardly mattered, though, as the corn was so sweet and creamy, full of just-picked-from-the-stalk flavor, we ate it raw.



After the farm stand, we went to a local farm that is well-known for its plentiful pick-your-own crops. From raspberries and blackberries, to peaches (yes, pick your own peaches!) and cut-your-own flowers, I'd been to this stop a few times before. Last fall, Casey and I found perfect pumpkins and ate hot apple-cider doughnuts before picking loads of raspberries.



This time were on a mission to buy some perfect blueberries, and this was a place to be. Now, for me, pick-your-own trips mean eating as much as I can possibly find, and occasionally tossing a few into the basket. Luckily, the rest of the family had a bit more restraint, and we managed to walk away with a few pints of gorgeous blues. The epitome of local eating, a berry picked off the bush and eaten immediately is, really, a taste of heaven.



Blueberries in tow, we then drove to Casey's favorite local farm (where she is a CSA shareholder, and the source of our local meal's tomatoes, cucumbers, green beans, carrots, and beets) to say hello to the happy cows and buy a ridiculous amount of fresh mozzarella. We got caught in the heaviest downpour I'd seen in years, but I managed to snap a shot of the sweetest baby cow before making a mad dash to the car to save my camera before dancing in the rain with my sisters.



We used the mozzarella and a bunch of beautiful tomatoes and fresh basil from Casey's CSA box to make a lovely Insalata Caprese. I'm not usually a fan of mozzarella - I find it can be a bit spongy - but this stuff was so fresh, it was amazing. And you can pretty much top anything with perfect tomatoes and a basil leaf and I'll swoon.



In the end, the Great Ingredient Hunt was a smashing success, and was a great way to spend a vacation. I love nothing more than cooking and eating with my family, and we definitely have transitioned to local, sustainable preparation without sacrificing any of our quantity, quality, and taste. This kind of eating, celebrating the season and connecting, quite directly, with where our food comes from, can be so amazingly rewarding. At the party, I looked at our table full of fresh, colorful dishes, and realized we had created memories for every ingredient. That meal was more than a number of calories or a tally of complicated methods, it was a veritable collection of experience. Tasting the cheese, I saw the baby cow and felt the huge raindrops, popping a blueberry I heard the laughter of my sisters and the buzzing of bees. This is what it feels like to connect with our food system, to respect the earth, and celebrate to the fullest. And it went off without a hitch. The trickiest part was cooking everything in Casey's small apartment kitchen, but even that went relatively smoothly, save for a bit of a fiasco with the food processor. Really, who thought it would be a good idea to put an unsealable spout pointing towards the floor? Ah, a bit of beet puree never killed anyone. But it does make killer brownies.

Scarlet Beet Brownies and Fresh Blueberries

• 3/4 cup of beet puree*
  
• 4 ounces of good-quality chocolate chips
• 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• pinch salt
• 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 7 tablespoons butter, softened
• 1/3 cup sugar
• 2 eggs, room temperature

*I used dark red and candy-striped beets. I peeled them and then boiled them until they were easily pierced with a fork. I then pureed them in a food processor and measured out the 3/4 cup. The rest of it was delicious with a bit of butter, salt and pepper. Also, the puree is absolutely gorgeous and can be used as a stand-out side dish.

1. Heat oven to 350F.
2. Melt chocolate over double-boiler. Set aside.
3. Whisk flour with baking powder and salt and set aside.
4. Cream butter and sugar together. And vanilla and eggs, one at a time, until the mixture is creamy. Add melted chocolate, beet puree, and flour mixture. Mix well.
   
5. Pour batter into 9 x 13 baking pan and bake for 30 minutes.
6. Let cool and cut into triangles. Serve with fresh-picked blueberries and share with family.