Many families have a ritual around at least one special meal a week. For us it’s our Saturday morning trip to the farmers market followed by breakfast at home, made with everything farm-fresh. It’s the same every week. We wake up, roll out of bed, get dressed and set off to the market. We usually arrive at the opening bell and there’s a good reason for that — at least there used to be. We’ve been buying eggs from Michaele at Growing Things Farm practically since the University Farmers Market began in 1993. For many years, Michaele was the only egg vendor there and a long line formed even before the bell rang. Come to think of it, her eggs were one of the things that lured us to the market in the first place. We became such devoted fans that we’d meet her during the winter in the parking lot behind Dick’s Drive-In before the market was open year-round — rain or shine. We’ve even met some of our best friends waiting in line for eggs at the farmers market.

Each week by the time we finish shopping and unpacking, our meal is more brunch than breakfast but the menu rarely varies — poached eggs on toast with whatever greens are fresh, lightly dressed with olive oil. Add a cup of hot tea and there’s no meal I’d rather have to start the weekend. After a farmers market breakfast, my life feels complete — fridge is stocked with food for the week, my belly is pleasantly full and plans for the weekend have been discussed. Now, I’m ready to go.

Michaele’s eggs usually find their way into our meals all week long — breakfast, lunch and dinner. They’re filled with amino acids, vitamins and minerals and are a relatively inexpensive source of protein that’s easy to incorporate into practically any meal for an extra nutritional and flavor punch.

On a recent trip to the Olympus Korean Spa, a friend ordered bibimbap for lunch. It was a beautiful arrangement of exotic vegetables and meat around a scoop of rice, topped off with a lightly fried egg. I had serious meal-envy and within a week tried my own Northwest version using mostly local ingredients. Once you have everything carefully placed in your bowl, add some hot garlic-chili sauce and stir, letting the egg yoke add a creaminess that brings it all together. Talk about a perfect one-bowl meal. Salmon works well instead of beef or leave the meat out and you’ll still have a very satisfying vegetarian meal. If you stripped this meal down to the basics, you’d need rice, an egg and chili sauce. Shiitakes, spinach, soy bean sprouts, daikon and carrots are all considered traditional but using the farmers market as my source, I was easily able to improvise. It’s a great meal to make with leftovers too.

Speaking of leftovers, if you have any extra corned beef from St. Patrick’s Day, hash topped with a sunny-side-up egg, is one of my favorites. I can remember my mother grinding leftover meat for hash with a hand-crank meat grinder. My corned beef was so tender, it practically fell apart on it’s own so I just chopped it up with a fork and knife. Simmer a whole peeled potato or two plus an onion in broth or water until tender. Chop them both up, add to the meat and you have hash. Fry it in butter until it browns and gets crispy around the edges. Make a little opening in the hash, crack your egg open and slide it into it’s nest. Cover and cook on medium heat until the egg white becomes opaque.

Go to the farmers market. Buy fresh eggs. Enjoy for breakfast and other meals throughout the week. Repeat — and don’t forget to bring your egg carton back with you.

I’m not Irish but St. Patrick’s Day gives me an unnecessary excuse to wear green and to eat corned beef. I decided to try “corning” my own beef this year and in the process learned that I have more of a connection to this dish than I realized. As it turns out, corned beef didn’t originate in Ireland after all. The story goes that on the lower east side of NYC in the late 1800’s, Irish immigrants learned to make corned beef from their Jewish neighbors as a less expensive version of their beloved Irish bacon. My Jewish ancestors may not have been those sharing their recipes, but I had plenty of corned beef growing up, mostly from the only Jewish deli my father could find in Charlotte, NC. It was at Leo’s Delicatessen that I learned to love the food of his childhood, as out of place in the South as it seemed at the time.

“Corn” refers to kernel-sized salt, originally used in the process of dry-curing the meat we know as corned beef. Somewhere along the way, the dry-cure became a wet brine using salt & spices prepared to flavor beef brisket. Pre-brined corned beef is readily available this time of year in honor of St. Patrick’s Day, but here’s the thing. Most, if not all of the pre-processed corned beef contains potassium nitrate or saltpeter. This chemical is a preservative but it’s main function is to keep the color of the meat pink. Trust me, it’s not something you want to have lurking around in your cupboard. In addition to being a known carcinogen, if you were to mistake it for salt and eat too much of it, you may not live to regret it. I think I’d rather make my own corned beef and forgo the chemical taste and unnatural pink color.

The process of making your own corned beef isn’t difficult but takes a little thinking ahead since the meat sits in a brine for several days. I’ve read everything from 4 days to 3 weeks brining time and decided a week or so was as long as I was willing to give up the space in my fridge. Once the brining is complete, the meat is removed, rinsed and then gently simmered in water with more spices for a couple of hours. Vegetables — cabbage, potatoes, onions, turnips, carrots and whatever else you can find at the farmers market — are cooked in the same liquid for 25 minutes or until they’re tender.

Homemade Corned Beef

2-3 lb. beef brisket ( I bought this size from Skagit River Ranch but most recipes call for 4-6 lbs)

For the brine:

1 bottle beer (optional, although there are plenty of local brands that work well. Choose something with some heft rather than a pale ale. If you don’t use beer, substitute with water).

2 cups water

1/4 cup kosher salt

1 T cracked black peppercorns

2 bay leaves, crumbled

3/4 T whole allspice, cracked

3 sprigs thyme

1 t paprika

Stir the beer, water and salt together until the salt dissolves. Mix in spices. Trim some, but not all, of the excess fat from the brisket. Prick on each side with a fork about 30 times. Submerge meat in brine, weight it down to keep it under the liquid, if needed. Cover and refrigerate for a week. You can also place the meat and brine in a ziplock bag, close, remove as much air as possible and refrigerate. Turn the meat over every day or two. After a week, give or take a few days, drain and discard the brine, rinse the meat with water to remove excess salt.

For Corned Beef & Vegetables:

1 cabbage, core removed and quartered

Several carrots, peeled and cut in half

2 russet potatoes, peeled and cut into quarters

3 rutabaga, peeled and cut into quarters

1 bunch of small turnips, stems removed

Brussels sprouts, stems and outer leaves trimmed

2 bay leaves

12 peppercorns

Place rinsed, brined brisket in a large pot. Cover with cold water and add bay leaves & peppercorns.

Bring to a boil, skim off foam. Lower heat to a slow simmer, partially cover pot (leave the lid cracked open so some of the steam escapes). Let the meat simmer for around 3 hours, adding more water if needed. It will become very tender when done so take a bite or two if you’re not sure.

Remove meat from the pot when it’s tender. Set aside on a platter, cover with foil.

Cook vegetables in the broth adding more water, if needed. I started the potatoes, rutabagas, carrots & turnips first. After about 15-20 minutes, I added the cabbage & brussels sprouts and cooked just a couple of minutes more. (The list above is what I found at the farmers market last weekend. Any combination is fine although potatoes & cabbage are traditional).

Return the meat to the broth and vegetables if you’re not ready to eat. If you are, cut slices, add vegetables to your plate, spoon on some of the luscious broth, serve horseradish on the side and pour yourself a big glass of stout.

These rustic flavors remind us of our heritage — Jewish or Irish or both. Earned me the name of Poppy O’ Barach — by certain joking family members — thankfully just for the day. Corned beef hash made with the leftovers coming soon….

Check out Sally’s take on corned beef from last St. Patty’s Day.

The paper cup’s perceived biodegradability snookered some of us into thinking it was so much better than Styrofoam, and it’s paper and that’s organic, so what’s the problem?

A few things to consider about the paper cup:

• Recycled materials make up only a small percentage of a paper cup, mostly it’s wood chips. Trees, many trees, are needed.
• A lot of electricity and water, and then chemicals in the form of plastic are necessary to make a viable paper cup, many times more than what is required to make a Styrofoam cup. We caught on to those a long time ago and are aware that they take centuries to biodegrade. We now need to be just as savvy with the paper cup, which is a glutton at the production end.
• We’re now ‘consuming’ sixteen billion or more paper coffee cups per year in the U.S, plus plastic lids for each. (Starbucks alone accounts for over 2.3 billion), landfills are overwhelmed with this bulk, and we now know that it isn’t simply paper that’s decomposing, but the paper cup chemicals as well. Not such a clean operation.
• During the process of biodegrading methane is created, a substance far more environmentally damaging than carbon dioxide.

Check out this website, Sustainability is Sexy. An excellent resource, it has the complete scoop, well organized and succinct information about the paper cup, including a table of statistics that are mind blowing.

Our comfort with having hot beverages delivered in a nice paper cup is analogous to the disposable chopsticks issue in China. NPR featured an interesting piece a couple of years ago, Bring Your Own Chopsticks. They reported that in China a one-hundred acre forest is required to produce enough disposable chopsticks for one day’s use. Like we Americans with our paper cups, the Chinese have become accustomed to the convenience with little regard for the environmental cost. There’s now a campaign in China to diminish the use of disposable chopsticks. As you can imagine there are mixed reviews from those who like the convenience of the take-away, disposable chopstick. Sound familiar?

So many conveniences become habits that are taken for granted. Sometimes environmentally sensitive, sustainably oriented people don’t think about common practices like paper cup use that is, collectively speaking, unbelievably toxic. A new sense of frugality is needed, new habits formed and the unimagined secondary benefits of living sustainably will surprise us.

A small action toward sustainability: Find your reusable coffee cup and carry it with you like the reusable bags we’re using for groceries. And making coffee at home isn’t a bad idea either.

From a previous post, Rhubarb Jam & Java, Good Mornin’: There are plenty of coffee shops around and I’m an occasional patron, but I love making my own in the morning. The daily ritual means at least as much to me as the java itself. The pouring of boiling water over freshly ground beans, followed by the experience of their steamy aroma and darkly iridescent bubbles – it’s a morning meditation. I close my eyes and have a moment. Using a battery-powered frother (aero latte), I whip warm milk until it’s silky, pour it on top of the strong coffee and have myself a handmade latte. I deliver a cuppa Joe to Bob and our day begins.

]]> http://mixedgreensblog.com/2010/03/08/local-living/small-actions/whats-up-with-the-paper-cup/feed/ 1 http://mixedgreensblog.com/2010/03/08/local-living/small-actions/whats-up-with-the-paper-cup/ http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/MixedGreensBlog/~3/eT9EH7i6dxg/ http://mixedgreensblog.com/2010/03/04/seasons-eatings/be-kale-my-heart/#comments Thu, 04 Mar 2010 01:11:40 +0000 Sally http://mixedgreensblog.com/?p=7972 Kale plants in the backyard are a show all winter long. Hardy and steadfast, they dominate a big patch of the winter garden, and lately they’ve turned seasonal warmth and light into effervescent new leaves – garden sirens beckoning me to look, to photograph and to eat. Be kale my heart may be a frivolous salute to their swirling green beauty that I’m in love with this week, but kale rolls made a few days ago turned out to be a worthy testimonial.

When my grandmother was in her late nineties and still as avid a gardener as she could be, she honed her vegetable plot down to three plants: tomatoes, zucchini and kale. She ate kale all winter long, steamed and then doused it – her word – with vinegar, which was an ever-present condiment on her table. She vigorously claimed that vinegar kept her free of arthritic pain. She walked two miles a day right up to one hundred years of age. So, vinegar it is.

Or is it genes? Whatever, vinegar is an excellent accompaniment to steamed kale. Steam it for 7 or 8 minutes with a little water, drain, add 1 or 2 tablespoons of olive oil along with some finely chopped garlic. Let that sizzle for about thirty seconds, stir in the cooked kale. Turn off the heat, splash with any vinegar and eat. (Someone gave us truffle oil a few years back and I must say a few drops of that just before serving works pretty well too.)

So this week I wanted to feast on kale both with my eyes and my stomach. I arranged leaves from several varieties in the backyard – Nero Di Toscana, White Russian, Dwarf Siberian, Winterbor, Winter Red and Fizz – and made myself another backyard bouquet.

All were started from scratch last July, planted in the garden on August 15th. They’ve lived up to their strong-willed sounding names. Any time now they’ll begin their flowering and we’ll eat Brassica florets for the next couple of months. They’ll finally be finished about the time the first round of spring greens are ready to harvest in mid-May. Eaten from October until May, that’s not a bad run, and with virtually no intervention after the August planting. Well, some slug patrol, but not even much of that is needed mid-winter.

More effort is required than for the steamed version, but I decided to try kale rolls (aka cabbage rolls). I’m not much of a fussy cook, but this can be the center of a meal and they’re absolutely delicious. Leftovers for lunch today were a feast.

It helped that I had kale growing in the backyard, and leftover cooked rice, fresh mozzarella, tomato sauce, and a small amount of ground turkey sitting in the fridge. Some things are meant to be. So I made these kale rolls. This anecdotal recipe will get you going, but add and subtract ingredients to your heart’s content in terms of meat, no meat, herbs and spices, finely chopped flavors of any kind. The dish is all about the steaming, filling and rolling of the kale.

Kale Rolls  for 4  (about 12 small rolls)

15 – 17 large, whole kale leaves

1/2 # ground turkey

2 T finely chopped onion

1 t finely chopped garlic

Splash of cream or milk (maybe 3 T)

*1 C tomato sauce

1/4 C finely chopped fresh chives, parsley, oregano and/or basil (or 1 T dried herbs)

1/4 C grated Parmesan

Salt & pepper

1 1/2 C cooked rice

Optional: small pieces of cheese for the center of each roll. Mozzarella for melting on top if you have it.

Rinse and trim the kale, using only the broadest part of the leaves and cutting out the toughest piece of stem at the base of each. Place in a saucepan with a small amount of water with  lid on, in a more or less flat pile. Steam leaves for a couple of minutes until they’re floppy and still bright green.

In a bowl stir together the turkey, onion, garlic, milk, 1/4 C tomato sauce, herbs, salt and pepper. Reserve 3/4 C tomato sauce for later.  Sauté this mixture in olive oil until meat is just cooked through. Stir in the cooked rice and Parmesan cheese.

Drape 4 or 5 steamed kale leaves around the edge and up over the rim of a lightly oiled casserole dish.

Ready to Roll! Place steamed kale leaves on a large work surface, vein side down. Arrange pieces of kale so that the leaf will roll and hold the filling relatively well. Place 1/4 – 1/3 C of the rice mixture near the base of the leaf, plop a small bit of cheese in the center if you like, fold sides in the best you can while rolling gently from one end to the other. Voilà, kale roll. They might be rustic, no worries. Don’t be too fussy. The tendency, mine anyway, was to place too much mixture on the leaf making it more difficult to roll.

I found the rolling fairly easy and I’m not particularly handy at such things. Carefully place each beautiful green package of lusciousness into the casserole pan. Pull leaves that are lining the pan over the top more or less, add 2 or 3 tablespoons of water to the pan, cover with a lid or a piece of foil and bake at 350º for 30 minutes. (If rolls were made earlier and refrigerated, increase baking time by 10 minutes or so.) Remove foil, drizzle remaining tomato sauce over the kale rolls, add grated mozzarella, Parmesan or any cheese you like and bake for a few more minutes. Remove from oven. Sprinkle with fresh herbs if you have them. Parmesan polenta on the side is perfect.

When you have these babies sitting on your plate, you want to believe they’re winters’ best green food and it might be so. Green on many levels.

*Last summer’s roasted tomato sauce is sublime. You can make a really good roasted sauce mid-winter using canned tomatoes. Sauté some onion in plenty of oil until they’re translucent, add chopped garlic, a can of drained tomatoes, stir together, cover and roast in the oven at 350º – 375º for 30-40 minutes. Check periodically. Remove from oven, let it cool a bit, purée with a blender device of any kind and it’s sauce – which transitions into amazing tomato soup.

Some say President’s Day, others say St. Patrick’s Day. Any way you look at it, prime pea planting time is upon us. There’s no better way to give your gardening muscles a wake-up call before spring has fully sprung than to plant a couple rows of peas. It’s a springtime ritual here in the Northwest and one of the most satisfying vegetables to plant with kids. The pods are not only fun to find and open, tender sweet peas are an ideal snack for a warm day in the garden.

The soil should be Goldilocks-perfect — not too cold and not too hot — somewhere around 50 degrees, damp but not too wet. As far as your planting spot goes, four hours of sunlight is sufficient, six even better. Once they’ve germinated and grown a couple of inches, you can keep the soil cool with straw or shredded leaf mulch. This will also help keep the pods drier and cleaner as they ripen. The good news is that peas along with other legumes don’t need excessively rich soil. They feed themselves by pulling nitrogen from the air and storing it in nodules that grow on their roots. Bone meal added to the soil can be beneficial but lots of fancy fertilizers aren’t necessary. As long as the soil is well-drained, there’s no need to rototill, which I never do anyway. Just scratch out a shallow furrow and plant the seed 1 – 1 1/2″ deep and 1″ apart. You should start seeing their little heads poke out in 6 to 14 days. Oh, and don’t bother to thin peas because they grow better in thick stands.

For the highest yield, you can buy a packet of a specially formulated inoculant, a bacteria that helps the plant receive proper nutrition. This is especially helpful if you’re planting in a brand new garden spot. Simply coat the seeds by gently shaking in a jar or bag with the inoculant or sprinkle some of the powder into the planting furrow. Just make sure the powder has contact with your seed.

Peas, both vining and bush types, need support. Staking helps to keep them cleaner and safer from insects and mildew. I found some ideas for very cool pea trellises in the latest issue of Organic Gardening magazine. Those of us that have been at this for years may remember this incredible resource. (In the 1940’s, J. I. Rodale offered “life subscriptions to Organic Gardening at $35 each saying “Regardless of your age, you will receive the magazine for the rest of your life.” Twenty-five of these subscriptions are still active – most of which must have been given as gifts to young people. What a gift!) When pea season is over, you can use your trellis for cucumbers.

Knowing which varieties to grow can be confusing since there are shelling peas, sugar snaps and snow peas. In my experience, sugar snaps are the easiest to grow and obviously don’t require the time spent shelling. Even so, I love the taste of shelling peas and will plant those instead. You can extend your pea season by planting two different varieties, an early and a later type or plant some seeds and then more of the same a week or two later.

Seattle Tilth is having an early spring edible plant sale this year on March 20 from 9-2 at Magnuson Park. Their plant list is a wonderful resource if you’re trying to decide what to plant in your garden. They’ll have 6 different varieties of peas, all of which sound interesting. If March 20th rolls around and you haven’t gotten a chance to plant your own seeds, you still have a chance at having a pea crop. Some of their varieties are ornamental and could be fun to try as part of an edible landscape even if you have the more common types in your vegetable garden.

I promise to have some recipes for you once the peas begin to ripen in about 2 – 2 1/2 months. That is, if they all don’t get eaten before they make it into the kitchen.

Here’s Krista’s newly constructed pea trellis to give you some inspiration.

Last week while my car was being repaired, I was forced to think about my all-too-often impulse to “run to the grocery store” to pick up something for dinner. Run meaning, of course, drive. I’m sorry to say that it took me not having my car to look at the food I already had and to cook dinner from my pantry and freezer instead. I even made a brilliant discovery from a picked-over bunch of grapes sitting on the counter. Okay, I know grapes aren’t exactly local this time of year but in this case, the sustainable act of cooking at home with ingredients I already had made me realize I should be doing this much more often.

I think I’m pretty good about not wasting food but since the average American throws away 14% of their groceries while millions of people are going hungry at the same time, I’ve started to think that I need to be better than pretty good about it. Cooking the majority of our meals at home helps a lot, as does turning our food waste into compost for our garden and shopping once a week at the farmers market. Uneaten food decaying in landfills contributes significant amounts of methane, not to mention the impact of everyone making frequent trips to the grocery store for one or two items. If you use food you already have and add a little creativity, you might come up with some delicious meals without having to go further than your own kitchen.

I found some dried porcini mushrooms, frozen peas, chicken broth, an onion that was beginning to sprout, large amounts of garlic from a bag purchased at the farmers market last fall and some arborio rice I’m ashamed to say I bought ages ago, stuck in the pantry and never even opened. Perfect. I had all the ingredients I needed for risotto. Once I realized that I wasn’t going to be running errands, I decided that I really should take advantage of the sunshine and work in the garden and not in the kitchen. I pulled out the crock pot and tried a slow cooker risotto. It was actually pretty good — not quite as creamy as the traditional method of slowly adding broth and stirring, but very respectable, especially for a weeknight meal. The roasted grapes, however, are company-worthy and simple beyond belief.

Slow Cooker Risotto with Porcini Mushrooms and Peas

1/2 cup dried porcini mushrooms

1 cup hot water

3 T butter (or combination of olive oil & butter)

1 large onion, chopped

4 cloves garlic, minced

1/2 cup dry white wine

2 cups arborio rice

2 1/2 cups chicken broth

1 cup peas

3/4 cup grated parmesan cheese

Salt & freshly ground pepper

Soak dried mushrooms in hot water for at least 30 minutes.

Melt butter in large skillet. Saute onions until tender, about 10 minutes. Add rice and garlic and continue cooking a few minutes until the rice is well coated.

Add wine and cook until the liquid has evaporated.

Put mixture in slow cooker along with chicken broth, mushrooms and soaking liquid.

Cook on high for an hour. Open lid and stir. Taste rice for doneness. Continue cooking on high until rice is done, about 1/2 an hour more.

Stir in grated cheese, peas, salt & pepper to taste. (Since I used frozen peas, leaving the lid down for a few extra minutes was enough to thaw and warm them up).

Serve with extra butter, cheese and minced herbs on top, if you like.

And now for the roasted grapes I’ve been bragging about. What can I say? The first time I made them, I was already roasting vegetables and threw in some small bunches for the last 40 minutes or so (at 400 degrees). If you feel like you need to do something, you can coat them with olive oil, but even that isn’t necessary. The grape juice oozes out and caramelizes on it’s own. It adds the perfect amount of sweetness to any savory dish — way better than raisins in my estimation. I’m also dying to try them on vanilla ice cream.

I’m so in love with these that I took them as my contribution to a food photography workshop. The next time I resist the temptation to “run to the store” who knows what treasures I might discover already exist right in my own kitchen.

If you want to know more about our food waste issue, Jonathan Bloom has an excellent blog called Wasted Food and is writing a book about the problem and some excellent solutions.

If you want information about the shelf life of any food, there’s StillTasty.com. Check before tossing anything out. Remember, waste not, want not.

During our 28-day detox diet, just finished, no wheat was allowed, along with dairy, sugar in any form – yes, that includes chocolate – alcohol, soy, caffeine. Our plates were full of fruits and veggies, rice, some meat, nuts and legumes. A limited repertoire, but a healthy way to eat for a short while. It feels good to have given cells and organs a break, but mornings were difficult – a smoothie without its yogurt, no toast and jam, an empty coffee cup.

One thing I lusted over during those 28 days was a croissant, and once intentionally walked past Bakery Nouveau as a test. I told myself to just have the damned croissant if I wanted it so badly. I guess my resolve to detox was stronger than my desire for a croissant – I know that’s really, really odd – because I marched on by. You’d think that last Monday morning, free at last, I would have launched myself into the bakery at 6:00 a.m. for coffee and a buttery pastry. But nay. I’m not such a disciplined person when it comes to food, but somehow the re-entry this week has been conservative.

Amazing how many people are gluten-intolerant. We aren’t, but for this detox we went wheat-, gluten-free for the month. I put together this granola that’s so good we might continue with it anyway. Gluten-free oats, Bob’s Red Mill, along with reduced apple cider are key. How can an oat be gluten-free I wondered, but some things you take at face value. Bob has them and I jumped on his bandwagon. (Not so fast. Check out comment below. Apparently some people are intolerant of gluten-free oats.) If gluten isn’t an issue use any oat you like. Quinoa flakes, pumpkin seeds and almonds add a protein kick, coconut and dried fruit for sweet, a pinch of salt, a little oil and reduced apple juice bring it all together. Roasted at low temp for half an hour or so until it’s golden and crispy, yes it’s good for you, but it becomes something you might actually want to eat for breakfast.

A lot of us are interested in avoiding processed and heavily packaged food products, which means that we often cook from scratch. From scratch is a daunting phrase, conjuring visions of blood, sweat and tears in the kitchen, hours of steaming and stirring. As one who usually cooks from scratch let me just say that’s a myth – there’s not much blood involved at all.  This granola requires collecting ingredients (available in bulk at some stores), 15 minutes of assembly, and then keeping an eye on the mix while it toasts in the oven. Not such a big deal. Double this recipe and make enough for several weeks.

Great Granola, No Gluten

Amounts here are suggestions, more or less of anything would be fine, as would additional ingredients and spices like cinnamon and nutmeg, flaxseed.

2 1/2 Cups Apple Cider/ 3 -4 C Gluten-free oats/ 1 C Quinoa flakes/ 2/3 C Almonds/ 1/2 C Coconut flakes/ 1 C Raw Pumpkin seeds/ 2 C dried fruit: a combination of raisins, currants, apricots, apples, dates/ 3 T Safflower oil/ 2 t salt.

Place the cider in a small pan, bring to a simmer and reduce to about 1 1/4 cup, fifteen minutes or so – it won’t be syrupy yet, but somewhat thickened. Meanwhile, in a large bowl, combine all other ingredients, drizzle the oil in last and mix it all thoroughly. Add reduced cider and mix again.

Pour onto a parchment lined baking pan and spread out evenly. Stirring every 15 minutes, roast granola in a 325º oven for 30 – 40 minutes or until mixture is crispy and golden and you’re satisfied with its texture. Less time might be required. Dried fruits become crisp during the roasting, so leave them out and add halfway through the roasting if you like.

Though I’m not much of a cereal-eater, I ate this by the handful for a snack, and Bob consumed a lot of it any time of the day with Hemp milk and a banana. In fact, I think I hear its crunch coming from the kitchen right now. Seriously.

(BTW, as of this morning I’m busted on the croissant.)

In the past few years I’ve read several books about food and meat production, Omnivore’s Dilemma (Michael Pollan), Grub (Anna Lappe & Bryant Terry), watched the film, Food Inc. I reached a tipping point recently while reading Eating Animals (Jonathan Safran Foer). A perfect storm of revelation and repulsion happened. I guess you could call it reflection, my wide-eyed, middle of the night omnivoric mortification over the wretchedness of industrial animal farming and its product, a lot of iffy meat. CAFO, Concentrated Animal Feeding Operations, euphemism for an horrific practice that has become our norm; and CFE, Common Farming Exemptions make it all legal. (Lappe, Grub).

It’s not like I didn’t already know about this stuff – I haven’t been living in a cave – but there’s a proverbial tipping point, different for each of us, where something else kicks in.

I don’t think of myself as a killer of animals. I doubt that many of us meat-eaters do. I just cook them, put them on my plate and eat them. I recognize the irony in that, but raised on a ranch, I accepted the reality of animals as food (for many of us) a long time ago -  though I’ve never thought of them as animal units as is their tag in the CAFO industry. The new reality of industrialized factory-farmed meat is a whole different animal, and I mean that literally, though it’s not a bad pun. Industrialized farming got started by accident in the 1920s and in the past fifty years has gradually – now emphatically – become our domestic norm (99% of available meat is industrialized). Upside is that there’s a lot more cheap meat available, downside, it’s a really bad life for the animals, the hygiene of the meat is compromised (an understatement!), environmental and public health undermined.

Anna Moore Lappe states that it’s very difficult to find meat these days that isn’t factory farmed. Jonathan Safran Foer further defines difficult with specific percentages. Up to 99% of all available meat in the U.S. comes to us via industrialized factory farming: 78% of available beef, 95% and 97% respectively of pigs and turkeys, 99% of chickens. The photos in this piece are what we like to imagine is the truth, but the truth is that small farming operations like Plum Forest Farm and Sea Breeze Farm on Vashon Island, Skagit River Ranch, among others, provide a minuscule amount of our available meat.

You have to really want it, go out of your way to find it, pay more upfront for meat and fish that isn’t contaminating both the planet and our bodies via its production. Europe banned the importation of U.S. hormone-raised beef in 1985, and the European Union continues the ban.

I was eight or nine when my dad thought I should learn how to shoot a gun. It was a -22 I think. He showed me how to aim and shoot at soaring clay pigeons slung into the air with a slingshot gizmo. I was a haphazard shooter and my Annie Oakley career as a gunman was short-lived, but in those few days I practiced and aimed as carefully as I could at Jack Rabbits inhabiting the back pastures of our cattle ranch. I remember feeling appalled at the possibility that I might actually have hurt one of them. Three days of a killing spree – if indeed I hit anything at all – were enough for me. My dad apparently came to the same conclusion years later when, living in Alaska, he would hike for hours, indeed half the night in summer, with a camera and never again a gun. We never gave up eating meat. Funny how that is in our culture, except for dogs and cats, that we think about animals as plates of food and not as creatures with lives to live in spite of their destiny to be eaten.

But this isn’t about the kill of the conscientious hunter, but revelations in print and film – and reality! – that give new meaning to those meaty plates of food we omnivores buy at the store.

I’d read the books I’ve mentioned, seen the film and begun wee hours’ musings about it all when I discovered this article on the Gourmet site, Carbon 101. I thought it worth sharing. Though I recommend the reading and watching the film, this brief article provides succinct, relatively non-judgmental information about what is required/recommended to put meat on our plates. Go ahead and buy your meat they say, but be aware of a few things as you do. For me it means less meat, carefully chosen.

Even then, from what I’ve read there are no guarantees that what I think I’m buying is what I’m actually getting.

I think I trust PCC (Pacific Consumer Coop). They seem to be conscientious about their sources. But I must admit my confidence has been shaken. Meat from small farmers at Farmers’ Markets is more costly, another reason to consume less of it, but at the same time it’s decidedly cleaner food. We’ll say that it’s too expensive. But if the *cost of fuel, transportation, environmental degradation and subsidies that corporate farms receive are factored in, in balance it’s a lot better deal for all of us.

Can we omnivores get by with eating significantly less meat raised on reliable small farms when most of the earth’s environmental degradation is related to the raising of domesticated animals for food? And aside from the moral, environmental, ethical issues of factory farming we do need to figure out ways to feed a burgeoning world population. How to accomplish that with integrity in regard to our own bodies, the animals and the planet? I’ll continue to eat meat for the time being, but our habits in that regard are changing emphatically.

I’ve consciously chosen not to include graphic details of the industrial farming processes – this is a family show and the specifics are readily available. I do hope you’re inspired to reassess your appetite, but not to lose it entirely. (And then there’s the decimation of our oceans’ fish. More lost sleep.)

Tender herbs are popping up all over my garden and it’s making me positively giddy with excitement about spring even though it doesn’t officially arrive until March 20. Our mild El Nino-influenced winter has given the garden a jump-start and it’s gotten me out earlier than ever in anticipation of a long growing season. At this point I’m mostly cutting away dead growth from last summer but I’ve discovered the tiniest little herb sprigs and even a clump of full-fleged chives, all begging to be brought into the kitchen. Herbs love to be pinched and eaten and will reward you with even more robust growth throughout spring and summer.

As it turns out, the exact herbs I’m finding — parsley, chives, tarragon & chervil are also known as fines herbes and are a mainstay in French cooking. They’re mild, delicate, blend well together and can’t withstand intense heat or prolonged cooking. Their flavors shine with a very light touch, leaving the woodier herbs like rosemary and thyme for heavy-duty stews and braises. If you have herbs in your garden or in pots, you may want to grab your scissors and check their progress because it’s very possible you’ll have some that are ready to be eaten. Grab a handful of chives and cut them off at the base — they’ll grow back like grass. If you divide your chive clumps, place them around the garden to repel insects. Their flowers are attractive to bees so you get the best of both worlds — insect repellent and pollination, not to mention a flavor that works well in salads, sauces, eggs, potatoes or fish.

One of my great pleasures is having my brother, Jon, fix me a breakfast of scrambled eggs. I’ve watched him many times and have never been able to cook them as light and fluffy while almost creamy as his. I used a recipe for Softly Scrambled Eggs with Chervil & Chives in the Herbfarm Cookbook and these were the closest in texture I’ve come to Jon’s. The recipe cooks the eggs in a stainless bowl on top of a pot of boiling water, like a double boiler. Jon doesn’t go to all that trouble but does use a rubber spatula as they do. He doesn’t stir the eggs too much and takes them off the heat before they’re completely cooked. Somehow they’re always perfectly done but having my little brother cook for me is surely part of the perfection.

While looking through the Herbfarm Cookbook, I saw another old favorite of mine — Green Mashed Potatoes, an equally good use of fines herbes. Creating a version of pesto with 1 cup parsley, 1/2 cup chives, 1/4 cup olive oil and 3/4 teaspoon salt, you have a sauce to use on fish, in an omelet or as I did, stirred into mashed potatoes just before eating them. I couldn’t resist loading them up on a plate with plenty of butter and sitting down for lunch (after taking this photo, of course).

The point I’m trying to make is that you don’t have to make anything fancy with the lovely little herbs. As a matter of fact, their delicate flavors will be lost on anything too complex or heavy. Just chop some up and throw them into your favorite vinaigrette, toss them into a salad or even tuck a few into a grilled cheese sandwich.

Fine Herbes Vinaigrette

1/2 cup olive oil

1/4 cup champagne vinegar

1/4 cup lemon juice

2 T minced parsley

1 T minced chives

2 t minced chervil

2 t minced tarragon

1 T minced shallot

Salt & freshly ground pepper

Put it all in a jar and shake.

Just keep it light, keep it easy. So fine and so local.

With Valentine’s Day right around the corner, we’re all thinking about the sweetness of relationships but it takes a little more effort to delve into the deeper, more complex aspects of love. Similarly, chocolate’s savory side isn’t usually sought after or easily understood. Just try adding a little unsweetened cocoa powder to a dish for a whole new level of depth — that is, if you’re willing look beyond the more usual sweet chocolate taste. Before sugar is added to chocolate it has a bitterness that is best savored like a rich cup of coffee or a seasoned relationship. Oh chocolate, I think I’m beginning to love you in a whole new way.

If I say savory chocolate, you might think of chicken mole. But how about coq au vin instead? Perusing my current favorite cookbook, Canal House Cooking, I came across this unusual combination of ingredients. Adding a few tablespoons of unsweetened cocoa powder to the pot after the chicken and vegetables have finished cooking creates an almost alchemical richness and depth to the sauce. After all, that’s what the most interesting relationships are often about — putting together two complex elements and creating something new that far exceeds the individual qualities of either one.

The idea of chocolate paired with chilis and Mexican spices is another intriguing combination. I pulled out my crockpot with the intention of adding a little cocoa to my Black Bean Chili to give it a try. The result was deliciously dark, smoky and spicy with faint chocolate undertones adding that magical extra dimension.

Charlie was so impressed with this dish that he was willing to look away from the Super Bowl long enough to say that I should enter the recipe in a Chili Cook-Off. Now that’s an endorsement, I think. This chili is a different spin on an old classic and could be just as delicious as a vegetarian dish. (I’ve been trying to make my way through the freezer, using as much as I can. I came upon some Skagit River Ranch ground beef that I decided to add). I used my slow cooker but the stove top will work just as well.

Black Bean Chili with Chocolate

2 cups dried black beans, soaked overnight in cold water

1 or 2 medium onions, chopped

3 T olive oil

4 cloves garlic, chopped

1 lb ground beef (optional)

1 28 oz can chopped tomatoes with the juice

1 T chili powder

1 bay leaf

1 T cumin seeds

2 t smoky paprika

1 t dried oregano or marjoram (or fresh if you have some)

1 T canned chipotle chile in adobo sauce, chopped

1 T unsweetened cocoa powder (grated unsweetened or bittersweet chocolate will also work)

1 t salt or to taste

After soaking overnight, drain black beans. Place in a slow cooker with chili powder and bay leaf. Cover with 2 ” water and cook on high until tender about 3 hours. They can also be cooked on top of the stove by bringing to a boil then reducing to a simmer, cover and cook until tender, about 2 hours.

Once beans are tender, drain off most of the liquid and remove the bay leaf, leaving the beans in the slow cooker.

In a large skillet, saute the onions and garlic in olive oil until soft. Add ground beef and cook until it’s no longer pink.

In a small skillet, heat the cumin seeds, paprika and oregano. Shake the pan to lightly toast — about 2 or 3 minutes. Grind the spices in a mortar with a pestle or in a spice grinder.

Add spices to the onions, garlic and meat and then put it all into the slow cooker along with can of tomatoes and 1T canned chipotle chili. Stir it all together, cover and cook on low for 5 or 6 hours.

Just before you serve, stir in cocoa powder and salt. Start with a small amount, taste, then add more to suit your taste.

If you feel you need to justify your consumption of chocolate by all it’s healthful qualities, you may as well eat the very best you can find. We have an amazing little-known resource in Seattle — Claudio Corallo Chocolate. This is truly hands-on artisanal chocolate grown on a previously abandoned plantation on a tiny island off the coast of Africa. It’s then transported to a neighboring island to be fermented, dried, sorted and crafted into chocolate. The Claudio Corallo North America flagship store is located on Westlake Ave. I haven’t been to the new store but I went to their former location and had a wonderful time learning about their unique operation and tasting the chocolate. Tasting chocolate is a lot like tasting wine. Enjoy it with someone you love but watch out, you might take your relationship to a whole new level.