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Showing posts with label Restoration Farm 2013. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Restoration Farm 2013. Show all posts

Sunday, December 01, 2013

A Bevy of Beautiful Brussels Sprouts

Before we conclude Thanksgiving 2013, let us take a moment to recognize a petite powerhouse of the holiday table – Brussels sprouts.

Both adored and reviled, the one thing Brussels sprouts will never evoke is indifference. The little cabbage-like buds may have once been cultivated in ancient Rome. While the rich, earthy, complex flavor is often too strong for a young palate, many adults become die-hard fans.  
Regardless of how you feel about the taste, at the CSA, just harvested Brussels sprouts are a showstopper.  My mom describes the stalks as resembling musical sleigh bells. At Restoration Farm, Brussels sprouts are a “micro crop.” They take up quite a bit of valuable land, so a smaller patch is planted later in the season and made available at the annual Thanksgiving distribution for members who have renewed for the upcoming season.  

The mountains of sprouts at the Thanksgiving distribution inspired awe, admiration and delight from members. 
The little buds snapped easily off the stem, and were tender and sweet – a lovely treat to complete the 2013 growing season.  
One of my favorite recipes for Brussels sprouts comes from chef Julia Shanks, the co-author of “The Farmer’s Kitchen – The Ultimate Guide to Enjoying Your CSA and Farmers’ Market Foods.”    Brussels sprouts are sautéed with garlic and oil and then tossed with lemon juice and quinoa. 
I leave the sprouts in the pan as long as possible until they are deliciously crispy, brown and caramelized.  
Quinoa with Roasted Brussels Sprouts (adapted from “The Farmer’s Kitchen” by Brett Grohsgal and Julia Shanks)

½ cup quinoa
½ pound Brussels sprouts
2 tablespoons olive oil (my olive oil was infused with lemon)
3 cloves garlic, sliced thin or chopped
½ lemon
Salt and pepper to taste
¼ cup toasted, slivered almonds (optional)

Rinse quinoa under cold water. Put in a small saucepot and cover with water. Add 1teaspoon salt. Cover the pot and cook over medium heat for 10 minutes, or until the quinoa has popped and is cooked through. 

Meanwhile, cut Brussels sprouts in half.  If sprouts are larger, slice thin.

Heat a large skillet over high heat.  Add the olive oil and let heat for 1 minute. Add the garlic and cook for 3 minutes or until aromatic. Add the Brussels sprouts and cook, stirring regularly until they are bright green and soft (I covered the pan and turned down the heat, stirring occasionally and allowing the sprouts to get crispy-brown). Remove from heat.

When quinoa is cooked, drain excess water.  Toss with Brussels sprouts.  Add juice from ½ lemon and season to taste with salt and pepper.  Stir in almonds, if using. 

For more on the annual Restoration Farm Thanksgiving celebration, visit Edible Long Island.   

©2013 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved   

Sunday, November 10, 2013

Carrot Cake Jam From the Field to the Jar

I once had a friend who believed that carrot cake was an acceptable choice on any diet, since technically it is a vegetable.  I’m not sure Carrot Cake Jam exactly qualifies as a vegetable, but what goes into the jar was harvested in the field and it sure tastes a lot like the cake after which it is named.  

The final pickup of the 2013 season at Restoration Farm features crisp, sunny carrots that sparkle in the morning light. The splash of bright orange color immediately catches the eye.  
Root vegetables personify the heartiest traits of the farm, drawing their earthy flavor directly from the elements of soil and water that comprises the land.  
Perhaps it is my need to extend the season that prompts me to – once again – organize a weekend canning project. This recipe for Carrot Cake Jam intrigues me.  The jam evokes tradition, and the flavors of Carrot Cake a touch of nouveau cuisine. 

Grated carrots, chopped pears and canned pineapple are simmered with sugar, pectin and warm autumn seasonings – cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg.  I’ll be able to enjoy the sweet carrots of Restoration Farm for some time to come.  
By now, my canning skills are practically instinctive, which was a goal of mine for the season. Once hesitant to tackle home preserving, it now comes quite naturally.  
Here’s the rub with jam.  You actually can’t sample the fruit of your labor until the job is complete – the jam is just too hot.   But, the aroma is rich and inviting, and a pretty clear indicator of success.  
The delectable spread packed into the jars is chunky and sweet, and the house indeed smells like warm Carrot Cake is baking in the oven. 
A slice of homemade bread spread with cream cheese and Carrot Cake Jam on a bracing autumn afternoon will assure that the flavors and textures of Restoration Farm continue to delight the senses. 
©2013 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved 

Sunday, November 03, 2013

The Measure of a Season at Restoration Farm

How does one measure a season at Restoration Farm?  As the 2013 growing season comes to a close, I reflect on the months that have passed.  Do the variety of vegetables, the abundance of the yield, or the finicky nature of the weather determine the worth of a harvest and the character of a growing season?  Or is it something more?
Is it the bushels of crunchy broccoli that come off the field late in the season, and literally glisten in the morning sun?
Is it the endless abundance of juicy heirloom tomatoes that delighted us well into the weeks of autumn?

Is it the wet fields that struggled to produce?

Perhaps it’s the hundreds of tiny seeds planted early in the year, that yield miraculous results?  

Is it the burgeoning flock of heritage chickens?
Or, the number of additional inches the youthful apple trees grew in stature at Apple Trace?
Perhaps it’s the distinctive Long Island Cheese Pumpkins that add a festive glow to autumn?
Or the pounds of potatoes harvested?
Was it the fact that the kale crop struggled?  

Maybe it’s the chunks of loamy soil that sustain the rows of plants?
Or, the tender lettuce that dresses so many salads?
Most certainly, it is the smiles of members, and the lively conversations that punctuate a morning distribution of vegetables.  It’s the nourishment the farm provides to body, soul and community.  
And, it’s the unshakable feeling that no matter where you might roam, you can always come home to Restoration Farm.   
As this chapter concludes, there are already signs of new stories and new seasons to come. The foundation is poured for a permanent farm support building that will take the place of the venerable outdoor distribution tent.    The building will be constructed during the winter months and feature a produce cooler, a farm office, and a covered patio for the farm stand and vegetable distributions.  
And, so we turn the page and wait with anticipation for the cycle to begin again.  
©2013 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Sunday, October 20, 2013

Guilt and the Green Pepper Jelly


Many predicted it would happen, but I didn’t believe it.  Now, I realize I should have seen it coming.  

I am now canning everything.

A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing.   For years I was afraid of canning, but a Restoration Farm workshop last winter gave me the confidence I needed to start canning at home.  After that, it was a casual hobby – some apple butter, some blueberry jam.  I was proud of the results.   I even designed my own labels.  (Note to self – designing your own labels for anything is the first sign of a problem)  

Then, I started shopping in order to can. I would scour the farmers market for anything that might look good in a jar. The Peach Preserves were silky, and the Cinnamon Pear Jam heavenly. A fresh herb jelly using basil and parsley from my own garden was perhaps the zenith of sustainability.  

Canning is a big project.  Even if you let the canner air dry after you are done, it’s a big time investment. I finally decided I would take a Sunday off – a little canning “time out.”
But, green peppers and guilt did me in. Restoration Farm has produced a bumper crop of bell peppers, jalapeños and other specialty peppers this season. I kept staring at that mountain of peppers. Guilt is a huge emotion when you’re a member of a CSA. I could not let one more green pepper rot in the crisper. So, I reached for the canning cookbook. 
Green pepper jelly looks like something served for brunch in the wonderful Land of Oz.  A heap of bell peppers are pulverized along with two jalapeños in the food processor. Then, you let the pepper juice strain from the puree, and cook the juice along with sugar, vinegar and pectin. 
The interim color is a bit muddy, but a couple of drops of green food coloring perk it right up.  
The result is a sweet and savory jam with just a touch of warmth from the jalapeño. 
Guilt averted. I’m thinking a little green pepper jelly with a bagel and cream cheese will really jump start breakfast.  

The head grower at Restoration Farm, Caroline Fanning was very understanding when I confessed my obsession to her.
“Hold the phone,” she said.  “Have you made chutney?  If you haven’t made chutney, you haven’t canned everything.”  She’s very kind, but I can see the writing on the wall. 
A short while back, I met another obsessive canner at a community dinner.  Heather was perfectly charming, but all the signs were there. She let drop that she owns a pressure canner and several people at the dinner were raving about her Carrot Cake Jam.  She actually sells her preserves at the farmers market.  

The subtext was clear.  Boiling-water canning is for amateurs.  Pressure canning is the big time. Heather casually mentioned, with a tempting gleam in her eye, that this is a good time of year to buy a pressure canner because they are often on sale.  

Well, I don’t need much encouragement to make a purchase.  I’ve already started comparison-shopping.  No doubt canning my own tuna – and a whole lot of therapy – is in my future.  

©2013 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Sunday, September 01, 2013

Backyard Basil Pesto


If you’ve ever made homemade basil pesto, the only thing you are likely to learn from this post is that the success or failure of backyard gardening is often based on dumb luck.

Last year, I planted basil in pots in an attempt to create a trendy container herb garden. I tucked some kale and Swiss chard into a traditional bed and hoped for the best. The kale and Swiss Chard thrived, while the basil struggled. In fact, the basil either fried in the sun (as I frequently forgot to water it) or sat in pools of water for days after a summer thunderstorm released a deluge from the sky.
This season, I decided to plant one of these basil beauties from Restoration Farm in the backyard patch I’ve reserved for herbs and greens, and this summer, the basil is thriving.  The initial plants, plus two others I received as gifts, with no nurturing whatsoever are the size of small shrubs.  
So with basil leaves the size of palm leaf fronds nodding at me from the garden, I must finally acquiesce and make a batch of backyard basil pesto.

It really is as easy as they all say – about 10 minutes or less from garden to kitchen.    I’m a little amazed at all the “original recipes” for pesto I find proliferating online.   Let’s face it – there’s not a lot you can do to mess with this one. It’s basil, garlic, pine nuts, olive oil, salt, pepper, and grated cheese. This basic recipe from the Food Network Kitchens works just fine. 

Harvesting the basil is kind of a soothing, visceral experience. A heavy perfume of liquorice hangs in the warm summer afternoon air.  
My one stab at originality consists of using a lemon infused olive oil I purchased at the local farmers market the day before.   It does add a certain brightness to the party. 

There are people who will tell you a salad spinner is a useless item. But it’s quite handy for rinsing the basil leaves and spinning them dry. Even when I believe the leaves are free of water, I manage to spin away several tablespoons more. 
From there, the food processor is the kitchen tool of choice. Part of the appeal of this recipe is the additional directions for freezing. Grated Pecorino or Parmesan can be added once the pesto has been thawed. 
So, the pesto is pulsed smooth and poured into a freezer safe jar, the shimmering green puree ready when I need it to adorn grilled chicken or pasta at some later date.  
And, I’m already expecting that whatever plant is bombing this year will likely be my top performer in next year’s kitchen garden. 

©2013 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved