3.14.2013

Salads for all seasons


Today, I have salad on the brain. Never mind that there's not much green growing around here, except for the grass. Even in the dead of winter I believe it's possible to make delicious and seasonal salads. You know what I think the secret to that is? A well-stocked pantry. That means having a whole whack of oils, vinegars, dried fruits, nuts, seeds, grains and legumes right at your fingertips. Pick and choose from these staples as your mood or imagination or the weather dictates, add whatever is freshest, juiciest or ripest and you'll end up with an easy, satisfying and healthy meal.

In the Spring and Summer I tend to make salads that are light and refreshing whereas in the Fall and Winter I want something heartier and filling. Whatever the time of year, I follow roughly the same formula when making a salad. I start by making a dressing in the bottom of a big bowl that I'll serve the salad in or eat out of (if it's just me). The essential elements of a typical salad dressing are some sort of fat (any kind of oil, cream, buttermilk or yogurt) emulsified with an acid (vinegar and/or lemon juice)  combined with a bit of salt and a crack of freshly ground black pepper. There's talk about the ideal ratio between oil and vinegar for salad dressings - anywhere from 2:1 to 5:1.  It all comes down to personal preference. I like my dressings on the sharper side so I add less oil in proportion to vinegar. Experiment and discover what you like best! Other things I might add to a salad dressing include: mustard, honey, jam, jelly or preserves, any kind of citrus juice (orange, grapefruit, lime, etc.), maybe some chopped up garlic or ginger, occasionally a splash of pickle juice! Unusual ingredients inspired by a particular cuisine might include pomegranate or date molasses, tahini or rosewater (Middle Eastern); miso paste, soy or fish sauce (Asian). Whisk all the ingredients you've chosen for your dressing together and then taste it! At this point it should be much saltier/stronger/sharper/brighter than you'd expect the final salad to taste like. This is as it should be since the dressing will be tempered by the ingredients you have yet to add. At the same time, you want it to be balanced. If it's really sweet or rich you might need to add a bit of vinegar; conversely if it's too acidic, add some oil. When you're first starting to concoct your own salad dressings keep it simple. It's easier to adjust the taste of a salad dressing with only four ingredients than one with eight. One more thing: If you're planning on using raw onion in your salad you might want to add it at this point. If you slice it thinly and let it sit in the dressing while you prepare the rest of your ingredients you'll find that the acidity of the vinegar softens the onion and mellows its flavour.

Now that the dressing is made, it's time to get to the substance of the salad. In my opinion the heart of any salad is the fresh vegetables and fruit you put into it. These should be of an awesome quality because it's what's going to make your salad delicious and nutritious! Making a salad in the Spring (with so many fresh green things) or Summer (such abundance) is pretty easy. Doing so in Winter might be challenging but also rewarding. Winter squash, sweet potatoes or parsnips can be roasted. There's always onions and potatoes around. Brussels sprouts, cabbage, carrots, cauliflower, broccoli and beets can be used raw or cooked. There's kale and collard greens, Belgian and curly endive, radicchio. Don't forget crisp celery or fennel (and their leaves or fronds). Use avocados, sprouts, mushrooms. As Fall fades to Winter there are still persimmons and grapes, pears and apples. Oranges, grapefruit, pomegranates and kiwifruit are all at their best in Winter. I especially like contrasting textures in a Winter salad so I'll often roast some vegetables while leaving others raw. Anytime you roast or saute a vegetable you can add herbs or spices that will transport you to any corner of the globe - say cumin, coriander and sumac for a Middle Eastern experience or cardamom and curry leaves to channel India. (I think I'm going to have to talk about spices in another post. I am beyond wordy as it is). The way in which you prepare each vegetable for your salad makes a difference. You might shred carrots and beets and cabbage for a winter slaw. You might combine fat hunks of roasted squash with torn kale leaves for a rustic salad. You might finely slice beets or fennel using a mandoline if you're going for a refined look. You can slice your pear or cut it into fine cubes. Think about colour. Do you want to work with an all-green palette or would you like a vibrant mix of oranges, purples, whites and greens?

I really like to bulk out my Winter salads, adding almost anything and everything. Grains with a toothsome texture, like wheat, spelt or rye berries are particularly nice. I'll slice stale bread into fat croutons which I'll drizzle with olive oil, sprinkle with salt, maybe some pepper and toast to a rich brown. I love adding dried fruit to Winter salads; you get a punch of concentrated sweetness and sense of warmth. Throw smaller dried fruit (like raisins or cranberries) in whole and give larger fruits (such as dates, apricots or pears) a quick chop. I think the more kinds of nuts and seeds you use the merrier. I like to toast mine before I toss them in (though you could also get real fancy and candy 'em). If I have cheese around (which these days I often do) that goes in as well, maybe grated or sliced, or in chunks. If you want more protein you could add some leftover meat, or a hard-boiled egg, or some canned fish. Consider olives or capers or pickles. A friend of mine has been using a microplane to finely grate chocolate into her salads! People, it's hard to go wrong.

Think about everything in your salad - how you're going to pick it up with your fork, how it's going to feel in your mouth, how it's going to taste and look combined with everything else. You'll find it becomes easier and easier to imagine what kind of salad you want to create as you make more salads and eat more salads. You'll have a rummage through the fridge and cupboards and improvise from there. It'll be fun and rewarding. I think of us as artists. All the goodies we have in tins and jars and plastic bags are our paints and pencils and canvases. We use our creativity and a bit of inspiration (perhaps from a cookbook) to craft a beautiful dish, our version of a painting. Instead of hanging it on a wall we get to eat it!

Here's some of my sketches from Winter days past:


This is a simple yet classic winter salad. Slivers of raw fennel, grapefruit segments and avocado slices with salad greens.


I took some notes on this lovely, monochromatic salad after I made it: pear (juicy, crisp); cauliflower roasted with olive oil, salt and pepper and some fennel seeds (savour/crunch/slight liquorice notes); shaved raw cauliflower (variety of textures); toasted pine nuts (buttery, smooth richness); currants (a ball of sweetness); picked onions (acidic tang, silky texture); olives (briny/salty) and sheep's milk feta (rich but sharp, creamy and tangy). A beautiful salad to behold with lots of complex, interesting flavours going on.


Here's a hearty winter salad with roasted cauliflower and squash, shreds of raw radicchio and kale, pieces of persimmon, leftover sorghum and a combination of pecans, pumpkin and hemp seeds.


Finally, in this salad we have Israeli couscous cooked with garlic and celery, cooled, mixed with slivers of red onion soaked in sherry vinegar and orange juice, black pepper, olive oil, shreds of roasted red pepper, an assortment of olives (shrivelled black and pungent green), very sour dried cherries, peppery arugula, roasted cauliflower and carrots (sprinkled with dukkah), orange segments and crumbled sheep's feta.

I hope you find this post useful and are inspired to create some tremendous and tasty salads of your own!

2.12.2013

The start of it


To see the shades of early Spring light, grey and oranged on bare branches, dazzling electric green on grasses. The leaves of last Fall have sunk into the soil and now smell of it - new dirt, fresh earth, soon to be planted, soon to sprout with seedlings sown. Seedlings to feed us, and those we know, and those we don't and may never will. Light lengthens upon light, stretching each day wider, till it shifts enough to be sensed, enough to name otherwise. Dormancy over, Spring has arrived.


This Spring is something different for David and I. The kernel of the idea we've shared - to work with our hands, growing and tending - has been watered and weeded and nurtured and, in short, experienced just the right conditions to finally break the surface of the soil. This year will be our first year farming! We don't have any land yet. We are borrowing, with the greatest gratitude, the two acres on which we will grow basil, beets, broccoli, Brussels sprouts, carrots, celeraic, cilantro, collards, cucumbers, dill, fennel, fava beans, green beans, kohlrabi, kale, leeks, mustard greens, parsley, parsnips, peppers, potatoes, radicchio, salad greens, scallions, sugar snap peas, sweet onions, Swiss chard, winter squash, zucchini and more! We are learning the ins-and-outs of GST returns, over-the-border brokerage, net worth statements, web design and the difference between vector and raster images. There is crop planning, soil analysis, the search for compost, ordering walk-behind tractors and hoes and harrows and seeds and salad spinners - every kind of tool we'll need for the intensive, organic kind of agriculture we aim to practice. Right now we're still in the theoretical realm - planning, scheming, dreaming.


But, the sun is starting to send out whispers of Spring. Soon, we'll be in the thick of it; plans put into action; our bodies, not just our heads, hard at work. I don't know what Spring will be like in Agassiz - if there will be cherry blossoms or daffodils. I don't know about Summer either. I expect it will be hot and humid and that the corn will reach sky-high and I hope there are a good deal less mosquitoes than in Alberta and I know that I'm looking forward to it, however it will be. 

Can I quote some Tom Petty?

There's somethin' lucky about this place
There's somethin' good comin'
For you and me
Somethin' good comin'
There has to be.


1.31.2013

Hello again


(Silence).

Yes, I know. That's what it's been like around here as of late. I'm sorry.

To tell you the truth, there have been some changes around here. Big ones. 


In October, David and I loaded up our new truck, our new trailer, said sayonara to Alberta and hightailed it back to B.C. As we crossed the bridge, narrow and metal-framed, slanting upwards over the Fraser river, that delivers you to Agassiz my shoulders slumped in sheer relief to be back. I was here last Fall, doing a cheese-making internship that I wrote about very briefly. In fact, I was meaning to tell you more but somehow never did. Well, let me tell you this: every day that I was here felt like magic. I rode my bike to work past cornfields, donkeys, barking dogs (that chased me down the road), pumpkin patches, windrows of hay drying in the sun. The hillsides were freckled with yellow, with orange, with green. The mist moved over everything so that nothing ever looked the same. And when it wasn't there Mt. Cheam could be seen, rising stony and sometimes snow-flecked, so downright majestic I would always gasp. I trained with some of the strongest, funniest and wisest women I have ever met. There was another intern who happened to be my doppelgänger and is now one of my best friends. I lived with a family, everyone in it so entirely unique and great, that welcomed me into their fold. So, when an opportunity arose to come back, to all of this, and this time with David too, well, I said YES! Every time I cross that bridge into Agassiz I get giddy. My stomach butterflies, my lips curl upwards, my eyes probably shine. I can't believe I'm actually here. That, after ten years of different cities, basement suites, and roommates, after so many moves and travels, I finally, finally feel like I have landed. I am home.


I've got so much more to tell you. The silence is over!

9.25.2012

Crumby


It's your last day of vacation and you're at the Penticton Farmers Market when you spy a loaf of bread so beautiful and rustic and sesame-crusted that it's bought before you've even finished browsing. So you also end up with a dark chocolate-stuffed baguette. It's not much of a contest when it comes to choosing which to have for supper that night. (Chocolate). The first loaf is forgotten the next day when you arrive at your parent's house where the bread basket overfloweth. When you finally get home the bread is substantially older and drier, but at least you are wiser. Better make some breadcrumbs.

You might think you should use a bread knife but the bread is so stale that you have to bite hunks off to spit into your coffee grinder, where they're whirled into fine breadcrumb oblivion. You toast them in a 350 F oven for about 10 minutes - maybe more, maybe less. You weren't really looking at the clock. It's wise to check on them often because one second you're thinking they need some sun, the next you're reaching for the aloe vera. Dump those babies into a bowl because you didn't pay five dollars, spend half an hour chewing and then nearly overheat your coffee grinder for nothin'. (They'll burn if they stay on the baking sheet). Toss them with some fine sea salt (to taste) and olive oil (about two tablespoons for each cup and a half of breadcrumbs). Feel free to use different types of oil too - a wee bit of hemp oil is rather scrumptious. 


You can sprinkle your breadcrumbs over grilled vegetables (try zucchini with pecorino), a sumptuous hash (with fresh shelling beans, tomatoes, corn, potatoes and zucchini as the major players), pasta or just leave the bowl on your kitchen table so you can eat a spoonful every time you walk by. There you have it - breadcrumbs!

8.08.2012

Cooked as a cuke


You'd think it was the zucchini that was the trouble. The zucchini that was multiplying like mice on a farm or mosquitoes during a hot, muggy Alberta summer. Well, there's been a lot of it sure, but so far this year the star producer of our garden has been the cucumbers. If you're finding yourself in similar straits, I have two recipes to help you out. I know the saying goes "cool as a cuke" but here you're going to cook your cucumbers! 


Spiced Cucumbers and Coconut Milk

This is totally delicious. The cooked cucumber reminded me somewhat of eggplant but maybe even better. In the interest of full disclosure I didn't peel my tomatoes (because life is too short for that), I used dried rather than fresh chiles (which may have made my version a little less spicy) and I used parsley leaves instead of cilantro (because that's what I had). It was suggested that you serve this with rice.

1 tbsp vegetable oil
2 cups of 1/4-inch-thick slices of peeled cucumber
salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 small tomatoes, seeded and coarsely chopped
4 scallions, thinly sliced
2 red Thai chiles (with seeds), thinly sliced
1 garlic clove, smashed
1/2 cup unsweetened coconut milk
1 1/2 tsp honey
1/4 cup fresh cilantro leaves
fresh lime juice

Heat oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Add cucumber. Saute until beginning to soften, about 1 minute. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper.

Add tomatoes, scallions, chiles and garlic. Saute until vegetables are soft, 2-3 minutes.

Add coconut milk and honey; simmer until vegetables are cooked through, 2-3 minutes. Stir in the cilantro leaves and a squeeze of fresh lime juice. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper.

Makes about 4 cups.


Sour Pickles

These are the genuine, real-deal pickles you've dreamed of. No vinegar, just straight-up lactic-acid fermented, brined cucumbers. Apparently the bane of pickle-makers is the cucumber's tendency to turn mushy rather than crispy. Adding grape, oak, cherry, or black currant leaves (which are rich in tannins) is said to help keep your pickles crunchy. I tried using red currant leaves and they seemed to work.

3 - 4 pounds unwaxed, small to medium cucumbers
3/8 cup sea salt
3 - 4 fresh flowering dill heads, or 3 - 4 tbsp of any form of dil (fresh or dried leaf or seeds)
2 - 3 heads of garlic, peeled
a handful of fresh grape, cherry, oak, black currant and/or horseradish leaves, washed (if available)
a pinch of black peppercorns

Rinse the cucumbers, taking care not to bruise them and making sure their blossoms are removed. Scrape off any remains of the blossom end. If you're using cucumbers that aren't fresh off the vine that day, soak them for a couple hours in very cold water to freshen them.

Dissolve the sea salt in 2L of water to create a brine solution. Stir until the salt is thoroughly dissolved.

Clean a ceramic crock or food-grade plastic bucket with a capacity of at least 4L. Place the dill, garlic, fresh leaves and black peppercorns at the bottom. Put the cucumbers on top. Pour the brine over the cucumbers, place a clean plate over them, then weigh it down with a jug filled with water or a boiled rack. If the brine doesn't cover the weighed-down plate, add more brine mixed at the same ratio of just under 1 tbsp of salt to each cup of water.

Cover the crock with a cloth to keep out dust and flies and store it in a cool place.

Check the crock every day. Skim any mold from the surface, but don't worry if you can't get it all. If there's mold, be sure to rinse the plate and weight. Taste the pickles after a few days. Eventually, after one to four weeks (depending on the temperature) the pickles will be fully sour and no longer white in the centre. Continue to enjoy them, moving them to the fridge to slow down fermentation.

Makes about 4L.