I don’t know if any of you are familiar with Sally Fallon or her cookbook Nourishing Traditions. Sally Fallon spent ten years putting together recipes that focused on Old World traditions before cheap and easy were the primary objective of our meals. Her research and inspiration were the provactive studies conducted by a dentist named Weston Price in the 1930s. Dr Price traveled the world to document the teeth and bone structures of different peoples. After extensive research, Price came to the conclusion that people with good bone structure and strong teeth – full, wide jaws and well-formed, even teeth – came from pre-industrialized villages that all had common nutritional threads. The people whose villages had already switched to more processed food tended to have crooked, crowded teeth, narrow jaws and unbalanced features. Dr Price’s own book, Nutritive Degeneration is a fascinating, if dense read, illustrated by smiling faces of people Dr Price encountered in small villages and towns.

For her own book, Sally Fallon paired up with a nutritionist, Mary G. Enig, to explore these common threads in diet from a physiological and chemical point-of-view. Based on Price’s findings and Enig’s nutritional recommendations, Fallon was able to write authortiative recipes urging us to cook like our great grandmothers used to do. Nourishing Traditions caters to both cooks and food-enthusiasts with its descriptions of cooking methods and recipes interspersed with nutritional information and stories of how food was cooked way back when. Anjuli and I have perused this interesting, though controversial book quite heavily. Sally Fallon’s book covers a full dietary range – meat, vegetables, grains, fruits and dairy.  

The first topic that attracted our attention was whole grains.  We like to cook with whole grain for their nutritional superiority and taste, but at the time we didn’t know too much more.  We learned  that whole grains have an outer shell or covering which white flour and more processed grains do not.  When a grain is whole, it includes the germ, bran, and endosperm. When the grain is refined, all that remains is the endosperm.   The germ is where a baby plant sprouts. Therefore it is filled with nutrients – in this case a concentrated source of vitamin E, B vitamins (thiamin, niacin and riboflavin), and minerals phosphorus, magnesium, iron and zinc as well as being rich in protein and fat. The bran also contains many B vitamins and minerals as well as the fiber.

Sally points out that unlike ruminants, we don’t have four stomachs to break down all the nutrients in the whole grains over a day of chewing our cud. In the pre-industrialized world, grains were treated with great care.  People knew, through trial and error over the millenia, that grains need to be soaked. Better still they need to be soaked in a solution that is slightly acidic. This neutralizes the phytic acid which would otherwise bind to vitamins and minerals in the body and prevent their absorption. For this reason, she maintains, all whole grains and rolled oats should be soaked before making the dough in a slightly acidulated solution.  This acid can be in the form of kefir, buttermilk, yogurt, whey or lemon juice. This intrigued us.  We began experimenting with some of the whole grain recipes for yeast breads from King Arthur’s Whole Grain Baking, adding this step the night before, according to Sally’s instructions.

We found that taking this additional step not only makes whatever you are baking far more digestible and nutritious, but leads to a lighter texture – much lighter than you normally would find cooking with whole grains. The grains have opportunity to absorb all that moisture, similar to when you soak a bean or lentil.

However, thus far, all our experiments had been with yeast bread.  I had hesitated to experiment with quick breads because it is always requested to keep the dry and wet ingredients separate until the end, when you finally combine and mix as little as possible.  If I soaked the grain beforehand, I obviously could not do that. So naturally, I was curious what would happen.

Austin was home.  I wanted to make vegetarian chili and cornbread for him.  I decided to take the plunge and figure out some way to make the cornbread – which is a quick bread – by soaking the whole grain first.  I combined quite gritty whole grain cornmeal and whole wheat flour with the buttermilk and maple syrup in my recipe.  I left them to soak overnight.  The next day I combined my leavening, fat and eggs and stirred it into the whole grain until just combined.  Then I cooked it in the oven in a cast iron frying pan to give it a good crust.

It worked!  It was amazing.  Austin said it was the best cornbread he had ever had.  It was a real keeper – sweet, rich, soft and fluffy but full-bodied with a fantastic crust on the bottom.  

Ingredients
2 cups whole cornmeal (the one I used was Arrowhead Mills and it was very gritty before the soak)
1 cup whole wheat flour (I used King Arthur organic)
1 1/2 cup buttermilk
1/2 cup maple syrup
1 1/3 teaspoon Bakewell Cream*
1 2/3 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2 large eggs
1/2 cup ghee
2 ears of fresh corn
1 tablespoon ghee for the pan

*Note: Bakewell Cream is a leavening similar to baking powder that some people consider to be superior.  I have been experimenting with it as well and tend to agree so far.

Soak the grain. Measure out the cornmeal and whole wheat into a medium bowl.  Add the buttermilk and maple syrup.  Combine until uniform but no more.  Cover the bowl with a plate and let soak overnight (7 to 12 hours).

Grill the corn. Ramani showed me how to grill the corn as follows.  Insert a metal skewer into the end of a raw ear of corn.  Turn the gas on your range to medium.  Hold the corn over the range and slowly rotate until it starts to pop and brown.  You are done when almost all the kernels have changed color, about 5 minutes per ear.  Remove from the heat.  Leave on a plate until cool enough to handle.  When cool cut the corn from the cob and chop coarsely in a mini chopper.

Note: You can do this outside on your grill as well.  It can be done on an electric stove, but it makes a bit more mess.

Get ready. Next day when you’re ready to make your batter, preheat the oven to 400 F.  Place a 9″-10″ cast iron frying pan on the middle rack of your oven while you are preheating so it gets hot.

Make the batter. In a separate medium-sized bowl add the salt, Bakewell Cream, baking soda, ghee, eggs and corn.  Whisk to combine completely.  Add to the soaked grain and stir until just combined.

Bake the bread. Remove the skillet from the oven. Use a mitt!  Add 1 tablespoon of ghee and swirl to cover the bottom and sides of pan.  Add the batter.  Return to the oven and cook 25 to 30 minutes until a tooth pick inserted in the center comes out clean.  Remove from the oven and serve warm.

During the winter as kids my brother and I would make little pine cone feeders so the birds would have some fat to tide them over until spring. We’d have already collected and dried the cones. Mom would give us a jar of peanut butter and a bunch of bird seed. We’d rub peanut butter in the little crevices of the cones. Smelling of roasted nuts and dripping all over the place, I’d want to lick them. Then we’d sprinkle them all over with sunflowers seeds and maybe some cracked corn, tie them with little ribbons and hang the cones around in the yard. The chickadees would invariably come. With their melodic chicka-dee-dee-dee singsong, little black heads and puffed out bellies, the chickadees were a family favorite. While everyone else was blanketed in a snowstorm, the chickadees would happily hop around, foraging and taking advantage of the quiet. They’d hop right along on those ice-coated tree branches to visit our cone feeders.

Seeds remind me of winter, of stocking up for the long haul when there’s not much else to go by. Little powerhouses of energy, seeds also remind me of hiking and camping and anything related to surviving without ready access to a market, garden, or grocery store.

But it wasn’t until college that I thought much of eating seeds myself. Sadly, this happened in the “health” aisle in a local food store, where I stood there gawking at the ridiculous number of bars stuffed with a variety of seeds, nuts, fruits and other “foods.” It felt like the end of the world, but I was in a rush and hungry. I gingerly selected a “Chocolate Chip” one, ripped open the colored wrapping, and bit into the lump that looked like a forlorn dried turd. It felt like hard chalk against my teeth and tasted of something bittersweet and 50 other things that I couldn’t decipher. Lunch! [I think I followed it up with a liter of water.] Somehow, while I didn’t enjoy them, I partook in eating energy bars. There seemed to be ample reasons to have them stuffed in a purse or on a plane or in a remote country where I may not be able to find food (gasp!). When I thought about them, though, energy bars seemed like something you’d take to the end of the earth, where there are no known comforts and you have no choice.

The idea behind these glommed together packages of energy is old. Little chickadees and even our ancestors have been partaking in a natural process of eating and distributing seeds and nuts for centuries. And while seeds are perfect sources of energy, we humans still wanted to intervene, and make a product as unnatural as we could.

I will be journeying to the end of comfort soon. Our trip to the woods is in just a few weeks! We’ll be living off the land somewhere in Oregon or California with only jars of peanut butter, jelly, grains, lentils, some kelp and lots of ghee. And suddenly seed bars sounded like something I needed to tackle. Not a dehydrated mess of 50 ingredients, but nougats that could pack well and taste amazing. A few months back we had spied these. And they were amazing, I tell ya. I had to try them myself.

So I toasted some delicate sesame seeds (black and white because that’s what I had), and those bacon-y sunflower kernels, added some raw flax seeds (so as not to destroy their delicate balance), and mixed in a good seaweed. Then I melted some maple syrup and a bit of golden syrup, and dried the resulting sheet in the oven. Out out came a wonderful single-handed snack to be had on the trails: salty, sweet and savory.

In addition to the basic carb, protein, and fat requirements, this mix of a few seeds and seaweed also replenishes the electrolytes lost through sweating (it’s high in calcium, copper, magnesium, phosphorus, selenium, zinc, and B-6), the nori gives a boost of vitamin C, and the flax seeds are filled with antioxidants, omega-3 fatty acids, and fiber. Of course this blend is not the only way to go – you can experiment with pumpkin seeds, chia, toasted grains, etc.

So while you could walk around with some seeds stuffed in your cheeks, saving them for later, I think these nougats are perfectly fit for humans. So go on, do it. Leave those stale nuts, gummy raisins and fake M&M’s for someone else. And don’t even think about Clif bars. When you pack in, make yourself a little homemade boost, one that’s fit for you and me and the chicka-dee-dee-dees.

Seed and kelp bars
1/2 cup black sesame seeds
1 cup white sesame seeds
1 cup sunflower seeds
1/2 cup flax seeds
2 sheets nori, folded and rolled and cut into 1/2″ x 1/4″ slivers
4 tablespoons maple syrup
4 tablespoon golden syrup

Note: Golden syrup is an English product made with cane sugar. It’s an incredible orange gold and forms wonderful caramel ribbons when you pour it. You could substitute for light corn syrup, but I will never go near the stuff. It’s toxic. Brown rice syrup can also probably be used and it is better it takes longer for your body to metabolize. Generally though with this kind of snack making, I find it makes for a more funny-colored and tackier bar that falls apart. Also in my case, I really wanted these bars to harden so they’d keep longer. So it depends on your purposes. Maple syrup alone has too much water content and when it hardens forms large crystals (think maple candy), so you’re not going to want to use it alone.

Turn the oven on to 100F. Grease the back of a cookie sheet or line with parchment paper.

Note: I was using an electric oven at the top whose lowest setting was 170F. So I propped the door open, and it worked fine, although I had some remorse over the wasted energy.

Toast the black sesame, white sesame, and sunflower, one at a time, in a skillet on medium heat. Remove from heat and let cool.

Tip: Each seed will have a distinct toasted aroma once done. The white sesame and sunflower turn a more golden color, and the sunflower starts to smell almost like bacon.

Heat the syrup and maple sugar in a pan on medium. Once warm and blended together, stir in the kelp and the seeds until completely coated. If you’re noticing some of the seeds are still dry, add a bit more sugar to the mixture and heat until melted.

Spoonful by spoonful, lay out the mixture on your cookie sheet as evenly as you can. Then, using the back of a greased spatula, tamp down the seeds lightly (tapping) until there are no holes. Turn the spatula 90 degrees (or use your finger) and press it lightly into the sides to form a rectangle.

Dry in the oven for 1 hour. Turn off the oven and allow to sit until the oven cools, another 45 mins. Once it’s good and hard you know it’s done. Remove and place on a wire rack to aerate and dry completely. Cut with a bench knife into whatever shape you fancy. Store, separated by parchment, in an airtight container. I’m hoping these will be good for a month!

Surely chile rellenos must have come from these sort of roots. A Mexican mama somewhere at some point pulled poblanos from the garden, grilled them as she always did, and then lovingly stuffed them with bits of ground meat and cheese before she covered them in batter and fried them. I don’t deep fry my chile rellenos, but don’t cry. These are damn good. I grilled them, as is traditional, to promote their smokiness and to help facilitate removing the tough skin. Then I stuffed them with a leftover homemade spicy sardine tomato sauce (recipe below), some black beans, cheese, and steamed broccoli and broiled ‘em until everything was fork tender and the cheese was bubbling and browning. These can easily be adapted to being more hearty (just add some cooked ground beef or turkey or even leftover chile) or more filling (just add some leftover rice).

I suggest you have a stuffed chile in your repertoire for summer nights just like these. Dig in. And of course if you don’t finish, there’s always tomorrow!

Chiles Rellenos
4 poblano chiles, washed
1 can of black beans, drained and mashed (you can also substitute 1/2 pound cooked ground turkey or beef)
2 tablespoons parsley + 1 tablespoon for garnish, minced
2/3 cup tomato spicy sardine tomato sauce (see below for recipe)
4oz pepper jack or other cheddar, grated, with some reserved for garnish
3 cups steamed broccoli, coarsely chopped
1/2 teaspoon smoky paprika
1/2 teaspoon cumin, toasted and ground
Freshly ground black pepper
Salt

Cut around the stem of each pepper and remove. Shake the seeds out over your trash or a bowl. Remove as much of the core as you can without cutting into the pepper.

Combine remaining ingredients above in a large bowl. Adjust seasoning.

Set your oven to broil (high).

Grill over direct flame until completely blackened (either on your grill or gas stove). Remove peppers and place in a bowl and cover with saran wrap or place in a sealed plastic bag. Allow to steam for 5 minutes. Remove and peel off the blackened skin. You can use a knife, but don’t wash them! Slice each pepper down one side and place in a heat-proof baking pan.

Stuff each pepper well and top with remaining cheese. Broil in the oven until cheese is browning and bubbling, about 3-5 minutes. Serve!

Spicy sardine tomato sauce
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 vidalia, 1/2 inch dice
3 cloves garlic, sliced
1 tablespoon thyme, minced
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 teaspoon chili sauce
3 sardine fillets (preferably salt-packed), minced

1 28oz can whole peeled tomatoes, crushed between your hands
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
1 tablespoon fresh basil, chiffonade
Freshly ground black pepper
Sea salt

Heat the oil in a sauce pan on medium. Add the onion and saute until translucent, about 8 minutes. Add the garlic and saute a few minutes more. Add the thyme, tomato paste, chile sauce, and sardines, grind in some black pepper, and saute a few minutes more. Add the tomatoes, basil and red wine vinegar and simmer 25 minutes, or until thickened. Add in the sea salt. Taste, and adjust seasoning. Remove from heat.

We used this first to pour over some grilled zucchini which we topped with goat cheese and served with crusty bread (depicted above).

Tomatoes are awesome this year. They’re plump, juicy and bursting with flavor; no rot, no blights. YEAH! Tomatoes are such a satisfying thing to grow. Once you get the hang of it, your tomatoes will taste and feel infinitely better (and be infinitely cheaper) than what you can buy. As long as you stake them, you can grow tomatoes in the most minuscule of places – even on a fire escape in the heart of a city. Tomatoes, generally a vine crop, like to grow up, so you just need to give them a little support. You can grow cherry tomatoes in a pot, too.

We grow romas for sauce, cherry tomatoes to pop in your mouth and big beefsteak tomatoes that are wonderful just sliced and served with fresh basil, olive oil and salt. Of course when they come in, no matter how carefully you try to plan on quantity, there are usually too many. You’ve heard the expression feast or famine, right? I didn’t have quite enough to make a big batch of sauce or baked tomatoes, which I slow cook in the oven for 1 1/2 hours until most of the liquid is evaporated. Then I can freeze them in sheets to use all winter when recipes call for cooked tomatoes. But I have too many for salad. And all my friends with gardens have their own wondrous, ruby tomatoes to process.

Bounty demands diligence and a creative spirit. Along with my tomatoes I had too much raw milk, which has a shorter shelf life than pasteurized milk. So out of love and necessity, these two recipes were born. Some people cook only with recipes, and some never do. I am halfway in the middle. I usually look through recipes, get an idea for technique, quantity, and flavor and then go my own way. Anjuli does this as well. For those out there who are die-hard recipe followers, I thought I’d embellish this process a bit. So here goes…

I started picturing my tomatoes cut in chunks. I have all this oregano I just dried, that’s oh so fragrant, which you saw in the last blog post. Earlier in the day I had skimmed Saveur’s (August/September, 2010) fabulous in-depth article entitled The Glories of Greece, which includes over 20 recipes and many factoids from all over Greece. Many of the recipes were coupling oregano with cinnamon, a combination which I happen to think is very exotic.

I looked around in the garden and noticed I had two Italian frying peppers ready to pick. I just harvested all my shallots last Friday. I made homemade cheese (paneer – see Matar Paneer for recipe) by boiling raw milk and adding lemon juice. I cut it into chunks and fried it. Now I could clearly imagine my tomatoes frying with rings of peppers and minced shallots. Then I could add whey and the fried paneer, cinnamon and oregano. I wanted to cut the acid a little from the cooked tomatoes – my dear husband’s tummy reacts to it sometimes – so I added raisins, Middle Eastern style. I could taste the whole recipe in my mind – it tasted good. So that’s what I did. And it was delicious.

I have been to Greece twice, once to Athens and then once to various islands. The sunlight in Greece was unlike any I’ve seen. Everything it touched became more luminous – the rocks, the sea, and all those white-washed houses. Of course that same sunlight grows the most intense and highly coveted of herbs. Life seemed uncomplicated; no frills, just strong, simple beauty. The food was of the freshest ingredients dug from rugged home gardens, the desserts were like clouds, and fish still blushed with life as it was nestled onto your plate. In my humble opinions, this luminous land of simple roots produces the freshest and most wonderful food in the world.

A garden simultaneously grounds you and allows you to travel to other lands without ever leaving home. When you pluck a few tomatoes off a vine, you have the opportunity to celebrate nature and also pay tribute to people far away who grow together and make food. The oregano and cinnamon coupled with the acid from the tomatoes, the creamy, fried paneer and sweetness of the raisins and shallots was exquisite.

Tomatoes, Frying Peppers, Raisins and Homemade Cheese  Serves 6

Ingredients
paneer made from  3/4 gallon of whole milk (raw or not), split with juice from 2 – 2 1/2 lemons, cut into 1″ cubes (here’s our recipe), along with 3+ cups of reserved whey
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons ghee
1 teaspoon salt
2 frying peppers, de-seeded and cut in 1/4″ moons
3 medium shallots, cut in 1/8″ rings
3 large tomatoes cut in 1 1/2″ chunks
1/2 teaspoon of freshly ground black pepper
2/3 cups raisins soaked in 1 1/2 cups whey
1 tablespoon dried oregano
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

NOTE:  I have asked you to reserve 3 cups of whey so you will have some for the next day, and a little to use for other purposes like soaking whole grain.

Heat a large frying pan to medium low.  Add 2 tablespoons ghee and 2 tablespoons olive oil.  Add the paneer cubes.  Sprinkle with 1/2 teaspoon salt and 1/4 teaspoon pepper.  Fry until golden brown, approximately 4 minutes on a side.  Resist the temptation to keep stirring the paneer or it won’t brown.  Remove from pan and set aside on paper towels.  Add 1 more tablespoon olive oil and the frying peppers and shallots.  Cook for 5 minutes.  Add the tomatoes and cook until they start to soften, 5 minutes.  Add the oregano, 1 1/2 cups of whey and raisins.  Simmer 10 minutes.  Add 1/2 teaspoon salt, 1/4 teaspoon black pepper and the cinnamon.  Add the paneer.  Put on lid.  Turn to low.  Cook 10 minutes and serve.  This is a hearty dish because of the cheese.  You could easily accompany it with the simplest of salads.

Chicken Tagine with Tomatoes, Frying Peppers, Raisins and Homemade Cheese  Serves 2
I made enough of the tomatoes and paneer for 6, but we were only 2, so the next day I simply browned 4 chicken thighs and added them to the leftover tomato paneer dish and let it simmer for 20 minutes.  It was an instant chicken tagine.

Ingredients
1/4 cup whole wheat flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground sage
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
3 tablespoons olive oil
4 chicken thighs, with bones and skin
3 cups of leftover Tomatoes, Frying Peppers, Raisins, and Homemade Cheese
1/2 cup whey

Wash the chicken and dry on paper towels.  Put the flour, salt, sage and black pepper in a zip lock bag.  Close.  Shake until combined.  Add the chicken.  Close the bag.  Shake until evenly covered.  Heat a medium frying pan to medium low.  Add olive oil.  Add chicken.  Fry 5 minutes on a side for 10 – 15 minutes until a nice medium brown.  Remove the chicken.  Drain any remaining oil from the pan.   Add the chicken back to the pan and the leftover Tomatoes, Frying Peppers, Raisins and Homemade Cheese dish, covering the chicken.  Add the whey.  Simmer for 20 minutes.  Serve.

The summertime chores ground me. To get the most out of the harvest I have to be in the rhythm of the earth; in tune with the seasons and the weather. It is something farmers know, but not us suburbanites. We normally do what we want when it suits us. To pick oregano when the bouquet is most fragrant, you have to do it just as it flowers. The peppermint needs to be picked in the early morning before the sun heats it and dries up its oil. If I don’t pick the blueberries when they just start turning blue the birds will enjoy every last one. If I don’t pick them when they are just ripe they will turn into hard kernels and drop off. These simple tasks, performed at the optimum time, keeps me in touch with the earth. It makes me feel connected to something bigger than myself.

A week ago I harvested my oregano. To harvest the plant, you simply cut the branches, leaving the flower heads, leaves, everything intact. You just snip them off 6″ up so you don’t hurt the plant. I put them loosely in two drying baskets (any big baskets will do) so they had room to breathe. Nothing fancy, just loosely dumped them in and left them for one week on the kitchen floor. I don’t put them in a dark place because I don’t find it is necessary; just baskets on the floor where you won’t trip on them will do.

Today, one week later, they are totally dry and fragrant beyond all belief. I wish I could put that bouquet in this blog post. You would love it. Ahhhhhhhh. Sorry, got carried away. There is something so essential about the smell of fresh oregano. It just goes up your throat and gives you such a rush of pure, aromatic pleasure. You should grow Greek oregano, if you don’t, just to be able to smell it.

To keep the oregano smelling fragrant you need to remove the leaves from the branches and store it in an airtight bottle. The leaves are ready when they are brittle; not leathery. If leathery, wait a few days. When they’re ready to be picked, I sit down at the table with Ramani or Priscilla with some cookie sheets spread out among us. We pick up a branch and slide our hand from the bottom to the top. The leaves easily crumble onto the cookie sheet. When we get to the flower end we lift our hands off, as we don’t really want the flowers. Easy peasy. When we are finished removing all the oregano, we store it in an airtight glass bottles. Harvesting two huge bottles, enough for us for one year, took Ramani and I sitting and chatting, exactly thirty-five minutes this evening. We enjoy our oregano freely on pizza, salads, and basically anything Italian. Oregano goes well with thyme and basil, with garlic and onions and black pepper. The dried herb actually has more flavor than the fresh, so if you choose to use it fresh, multiply the quantity times three. -Weezie

A Little History of my Favorite Herb
Oregano was first used by the Greeks. The word oregano actually derives from a Greek phrase meaning “joy of the mountain.” Oregano gradually made its way around the world over the ages, the way these things do. But it didn’t make it to the US until after WWII, when it was brought back by American soldiers involved in the Italian campaign. It is loaded with vitamins A and C, and calcium, manganese and iron. Oregano has been used in different cultures for its myriad of medicinal attributes, including antiseptic, anti-bacterial and high antioxidant properties. This time of year I use it constantly, as it goes so well with the vegetables I can harvest from my garden in July and August. I am including the recipe for a simple summertime favorite with summer squash and zucchini.

Summer Squash and Zucchini with Oregano and Parmesan Serves 4
When the squash and zucchini are ready to pick, they just keep on coming. We make this dish quite often and just don’t seem to tire. it is so simple and so tasty with the sweetness of the squash and onions, the earthiness of the oregano and the slight bite of the pepper. The parmesan gives it body.

Ingredients
3 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 Vidalia, cut in 1 1/2 inch long slivers
2 6 inch yellow crookneck summer squash, cut in 1/4 inch coins (you can use any yellow
summer squash)
2 8 inch zucchini, cut in 1/4 inch coins
20 grinds of black pepper, or to taste
1/2 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons of fresh oregano or 1 tablespoon dried
1/4 cup freshly grated parmesan

Heat a large frying pan to medium low. Add the olive oil and the onion. Fry until the onion starts to soften. Add the squash and zucchini, black pepper and salt. Stir to combine. Let it fry for 5 minutes and then after that, keep flipping it every 5 minutes, try not to in between unless it is burning. If you resist the temptation to stir it all the time it will brown beautifully, caramelizing and sweetening. After 15 minutes, or when quite tender, add the oregano. Cook for 3 minutes more. Turn the heat off, add the parmesan on top and then put a lid on it. The parmesan will melt and look beautiful against the squash.

Note: I used a 15 inch cast iron frying pan, huge, which I use when I am frying something that needs room to brown. If you crowd the squash into more than one layer it will steam rather than brown. You can use any frying pan so long as you give the squash room to fry in a single layer.

Rocky Durham said in a cooking class we took with him back in Santa Fe, if you put grilled in front of just about anything, people will buy it. Seeing as this Santa Fean chef launched a series of successful restaurants, all called Santa Fe with exactly this premise in mind, let’s give it a try. Salad. Grilled salad. Watermelon. Grilled watermelon. Pizza. Grilled pizza. Springer spaniel. Grilled springer spaniel. Well, you get the idea.

When it comes to cooking, you have basically three options – wet heat, dry heat, or no heat. Of those, Rocky theorized, the most desirable is always dry heat. Now I wouldn’t necessarily agree, but this was Santa Fe. The weather is always dry. In summer, the temperature soars up into heights that surely make the inhabitants feel like drippings on the underbelly of a good piece of pork, sizzling on a grill. And of course, in Santa Fe, if it had grilled in the title or Rocky was cooking it, I would most certainly sign up.

I also will agree that grilling during twilight, with a cool breeze blowing, is one of the most satisfying ways to wind down a summer day. In my book, if you like something but you know you shouldn’t have it often, make sure to honor and savor those meals when you do. So while I don’t eat pork often, add grilled in front of a good pork chop on a breezy summer night in July and I’m there. I suggest you get there this weekend.

This recipe is dead simple. I wanted to use the same ingredients for the brine as with the marinade, so they went in whole into the brine and roasted and ground into the marinade. This helps to keep things simple to do but with a complex flavor. The brine helped juicify our cuts into incredibly tender chops. The garlic, rosemary and spices grounded the flavor, and the smokiness, well, all humans swoon when we encounter that essence of flame. And the onions helped bring out that bit of sweetness. Since there’s never a good reason to waste a good flame, we grilled some market zucchini and summer squash alongside. I paired it in simple Italian style – garlic, basil, balsamic, and oil. So how bout it, eh? Grilled pork chops w/ caramelized onions and Grilled zucchini and summer squash w/ garlic, basil, and balsamic. How can you resist?

Grilled pork

Brine
4 cups water
4 tablespoons coarse salt
3 1/2 tablespoons brown sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons fennel seeds
1 1/2 teaspoons coriander seeds
1 1/2 teaspoons cumin seeds
1 1/2 teaspoons szechuan or black peppercorns, depending on heat preference

2 3/4 lb pork loin center cuts (chops), thoroughly rinsed

In a heavy-bottomed sauce pan, heat the brine solution until sugar and salt are dissolved. Let cool. Place the pork in a bowl and cover with the brine. Weight down the pork with a plate, cover the bowl, and place in the fridge overnight or up to 24 hours. Drain, rinse, and pat dry.

Garlic rosemary marinade
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 teaspoons rosemary, minced
1 teaspoon spice blend (fennel, coriander, and cumin)
20 grinds black pepper
2 teaspoons olive oil

Mix the above ingredients in a small bowl. Rub all over the pork. Heat the grill so you have an area where it’s max temp (about 500F) and another area of indirect heat at about 400F. At the max temp of your grill, sear the pork on both sides, about 1 1/2 minutes each side. Move to the 400F zone and cook covered, turning once, about 8-12 minutes, until internal temp registers 160F. Remove from grill and let rest for 5 minutes. Slice and serve with caramelized onions. Enjoy!

Grilled zucchini and summer squash w/ garlic, balsamic, and basil
Extra virgin olive oil
3-4 combo of zucchini and summer squash, sliced 1/2″ lengths
2 cloves garlic, minced
Handful basil leaves, washed and chiffonade
Balsamic vinegar
Sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper
Smoky paprika or red pepper flakes (depending on pref)

Cover the zucchini and summer squash in olive oil. Put on the grill at 400, flipping once, until, about 5-8 minutes. Remove. Put one layer of zucchini and squash on your platter, add some of the garlic, drizzle balsamic and olive oil, and then top with a sprinkle of paprika and basil. Repeat with the remaining zucchini and squash. Let marinade for 15 minutes or so, until pork is ready.

Caramelized onions
A pat of butter
1 red onion, sliced
2 teaspoons balsamic

Melt butter in a sauce pan on medium. Once hot, add onion and cook until tender and starting to brown, about 20 minutes. Deglaze with balsamic, stir and let cook until completely soft, about 8 more minutes. Add salt and pepper and remove from heat. Plate next to pork.

Tip: Resist the urge to over stir or they won’t caramelize. If the onions are browning, the heat is too high.

The other day it was easy and breezy in Portland and I was missing steamy NY. This is the yin and yang of the journey. As I get farther away from where I’ve been, I am closer to realizing what matters to me. This Portland summer is altogether wonderfully mild… and sometimes that makes me feel complacent and underwhelmed. We’re about to take a plunge and attempt to live in the woods OFF THE GRID for a few months by ourselves. While this is something I have been dreaming about, here I am missing the most urban place on the planet.

But I was. I was jealous of the heat wave that everyone else is having. Yes, you heard me. I was wishing my face was melting off along with everyone else’s across the country. But I was especially missing NY, kind of how a widower would miss his deceased wife. You know, like missing her farts or the drool on the pillow or the way she always made a funny clicking sound with her false teeth when she was nervous. Those endearing little human things.

NY, I miss… the grimy foot “tan” that covers everything except my sandal strap from all the muck and grit you put on me; the throngs of half naked people strewn across your Great Lawn, each as white as the underbelly of a ginormous whale; the sweaty mesh of bodies in various states of dress narrowly missing each other as they travel your sidewalk; your rudeness and briskness on a weekday morning; your nonstop energy; your surging beat, overflowing with so many emotions and desires and untapped creativity; your ridiculously over- or under- priced food and those bad hot dog smells. New York, you are not the easiest place to be in the summer, but I do remember fondly how good it feels to be surviving together with millions, in your hot, stinking, beautiful loins.

So there, I said it. I miss NY. I miss my family and friends. I miss that luscious garden of my mother’s, out there in the boondocks in Connecticut. I miss all y’all.

Like I said, I was feeling sad. I think it was partially because of these blueberry and apricot bars. Baking is incredible. Despite all sorts of unknowable factors, when you bake, you try to be precise and consistent. You will yourself to pay attention… to measuring, to texture, to viscosity, to spreading out the layers just so, to letting it bake until it’s just golden. You spend all this energy attempting to be totally meticulous. But ultimately, when you put the pan in the oven, you feel you’re leaving it all to chance. In this meditative madness, things tend to just flow. And well, sometimes, you can get all emotional in the midst of baking a batch of cookies. Thankfully with baking, if it proves to be the cause of your woes, when that timer beeps you have also found a good cure all.

The inspiration for making these oat bars came from this awesome bakery in Portland called Nuvrei (still waiting on the recipe for their oat currant bar) and the base recipe came loosely from the date oat bars in Breakfast, Lunch, Tea. I wanted a bar with a chewy bottom and a crunchy top but that didn’t require a lot of extra work, and one that could hold the softer fruit filling. This recipe is dead simple.

These oat bars have a good structure but they’re also begging to fall apart into chewy little gobs (or be toasted for breakfast!); their sweetness is magnified by a good, tart berry; they start off wholesome but lend themselves to a little overindulgence. They may look like granola, but that oat gives way to a toasted richness with a hint of molasses. They’re full of sunshine and summer, but they’re also just a tad bit blue.

Even though you say you’re tough, NY, I know you’re just a Stay Puft Marshmallow Man inside. Just like me. So here, NY and all its inhabitants, I baked these especially FOR YOU.

Blueberry and apricot oat bars
These were chewy on the bottom and a little crunchy on top. The original recipe called for golden syrup and was probably more like a flapjack, but I used brown rice syrup. You could also try them with agave or maple syrup. Each of these sweeteners will have a slight affect on the texture of the overall cookie. Omitting the egg will make the bottom less caky. So experiment and suit yourself!

Filling
1 pint blueberries, washed
1 pint fresh apricots, washed, pitted and sliced
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 teaspoon cardamom
1 teaspoon lemon juice
2 tablespoons raw sugar

Oats
2 2/3 cup rolled oats (not quick oats!)
1 cup whole wheat flour
Pinch of salt
1/2 teaspoon baking soda

2/3 cup unsalted butter, plus extra for greasing
2/3 cup raw sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons molasses
2 tablespoons brown rice syrup (agave, maple syrup, or if you must, corn syrup would all work, but result in varying textures; experiment!)
1 egg

Preheat the oven to 350F. Butter a 9×9 pan and line it with parchment.

Put the blueberries, apricots, and 2 tablespoons raw sugar in a medium heavy-bottomed sauce pan and turn on to medium-low. Cook until the apricots are tender, about 10 minutes. If the mixture looks decidedly wet, add in 1-2 tablespoons whole wheat flour. You want the mixture to hold together but not be stiff, like a thin paste. Remove from heat and add in the vanilla, cardamom, and lemon juice. Stir and set aside.

In a bowl, mix the flour, salt, oats, and baking soda.

Heat the butter, sugar, molasses, and brown rice syrup in a medium heavy-bottomed sauce pan on medium-low until melted, about 5 minutes. Stir often to prevent from sticking. Put this over the oat mixture and mix until crumbly.

Split the oat mixture in half. In one half crack in the egg and mix around until just coasted. Press this egg + oat mixture into the bottom of a pan with a wooden spatula, making sure to coat evenly.

Spread the fruit mixture on top. Sprinkle and lightly press in the other 2nd half of the oat mixture until evenly covered.

Bake in the oven until golden brown, about 30 minutes. Remove and let cool, then cut into rectangles and enjoy!

In the early 70s I was a weaver and a member of the Philadelphia Guild of Hand Weavers. I didn’t just want to weave. I wanted to card my own wool, spin it into my own yarn and make my own dyes. I even had fantasies of raising my own sheep. Well, I’m the same way with cooking. Anjuli and I always want to get back to the basics. We make our own ghee. We love it. Recently Anjuli said, “wouldn’t it be great if we made our own butter so that we know what kind we’re using for our ghee?”

That, of course, played around in my mind. I am in Iowa now, Fairfield to be exact. It’s the home of Maharishi University of Management, a small university of consciousness-based education founded about 40 years ago by Maharishi Mahesh Yogi. Austin did his bachelors and masters here and we have a sweet little cottage in the community that surrounds the campus.

Maharishi’s primary goal was to bring meditation to the West. He also helped to popularize Ayurveda, the holistic system of health and wellness. The university has a large farming operation which supplies all the students with Organic food, and there are a number of sustainable programs and green buildings on campus. We come here for peace and meditation and this unique community amidst these flat cornfields of Iowa. Suffice to say, this is a good place to look for milk!

When you’re going the extra mile to produce butter, it’s important to use clean, flavorful milk that is free of rBST, antibiotics, pesticides, and other chemicals. If you start with good milk, the sky is the limit. From luscious whole, pasteurized unhomogenized milk I can easily make butter, ghee, cream cheese, creme fraiche, yogurt, or kefir. Add in some sugar and I can convert these fats and proteins into an array of delicious Indian sweets; add a few yolks to that and I have emulsions, sauces, and ice creams.

Well here in Fairfield there is a dairy that supplies milk for the university, local grocery stores and restaurants called Radiance Dairy. Owned and operated by Frances Thicke and his wife Susan, this small dairy produces the best milk products I have personally ever tasted or seen. Frances and Susan play music for their cows. Each of the 65 Jerseys has names like Delila or Lolita. These farmers respect their cows, and it shows. It shows in the quality of the milk and the pride felt in the local community. If loves makes a difference, that is the reason these cows produce such good milk.

This was my second visit to Radiance Dairy. I went about 7 years ago when Austin first started going to MUM. That first time I saw the cows out to pasture on these deep, rolling hills smelling of summertime. This time I came for the milking. Before each cow was hooked up, they carefully washed each teat with hydrogen peroxide. While they milked they gave the cows a supplemental feeding of organic soy and barley. After the cows were finished, they received a little affectionate pat on the rump to let them know they were free to go back to the barnyard. You know that wonderful feeling you get when you see people doing this right? That’s the feeling I got visiting Radiance Dairy.

If I was going to make my own butter, what better milk than from Radiance Dairy? I had a blast making this butter. I love exploring in my kitchen. It energizes me to make foods I can cherish daily from the best and simplest ingredients I can find.

Making butter is a very simple process. You take whole milk or cream, agitate it until the butterfat and proteins begin to clump together and the liquid whey separates. You strain the whey and rinse the butter and pound it into a manageable shape. And voila! But from those easy steps, there are many different opinions on how best and most flavorfully to approach butter making.

Back when dairy farms were small in the US, cream would be gathered over a few days and allowed to sit and ferment on the counter top before churning it, with wooden paddles, into butter. This produced a “cultured butter,” or one where the milk has been allowed to ferment briefly with friendly bacteria. Culturing the cream naturally preserved the butterfat. Another way of preserving butter was to add salt after the butter curds had formed. Now that we have refrigeration, these distinctions are more a matter of taste than anything else. In the supermarket today you’ll find mostly “sweet cream butter,” which means the cream is fresh, not cultured.

In home kitchens all over India, even today, the day’s yield of milk is heated to a boil, then turned into yogurt by adding a few spoonfuls saved from the previous day. From there it is churned into butter, the whey is separated, and the resulting butter is cooked until the water evaporates and the milk solids sink and brown. The resulting rich, caramel, sunlight-yellow liquid is ghee.

For my butter, I wanted to keep it simple and also make it similarly to how they do in India. I started with heavy cream (around 36% butterfat, see breakdown of cream butterfat), so I would have a concentrated amount of butterfat and therefore produce more butter. I took two quarts of Radiance Dairy’s thick, thick cream and added some of their yogurt to cream yogurt. Then I put the yogurt in my Kitchen Aid Mixer and split it into butter and buttermilk. It was fantastic. The buttermilk was right out of my childhood; nothing like the buttermilk you can buy in the supermarket, which is just thickened skim milk. It was creamy white with a very clean taste and silky texture. True buttermilk has no fat in it. The fat is all in the butter. Yum.

Two quarts of Radiance Dairy Cream made 4 cups of buttermilk and 3 1/2 cups of golden butter. I refrigerated the buttermilk, and cooked the butter down to ghee. The ghee was so golden and sweet it took our breath away. To make ghee you can look at Anjuli’s excellent blog post. For those crazy, adventuresome people who would like to try, I have reproduced how I made the butter. It will take you longer to read this post than to make butter, so don’t be intimidated. I’ve just included enough information to make sure you first time is a success!

Notes on cream: The cream you choose will determine much of the outcome of both taste and texture. A richer diet of grass vs. hay or feed will produce a yellower butter (due to the carotene). The flavor is also affected by the type of cows, how they’re fed, where they live, and what season it is. Culturing your butter will also give it a tangier flavor and obviously salting your butter will affect its taste. So seek out those excellent local farmers nearby and experiment!

Homemade cultured butter
Heavy cream (if using heavy cream, roughly 35-38% butterfat; from my 2 quarts I had over 3 cups of butter)
Room temperature yogurt (ratio 1:16 of cream to yogurt; so for my 2 quarts of cream, I used 1/2 cup yogurt)

Make the yogurt. In a heavy-bottomed sauce pan, heat the cream gently on low to 110F, stirring often, about 10 minutes. Pour the cream into a large bowl. Add the yogurt and stir to combine. Place a plate on the bowl and put it in a cold oven with the oven light on, overnight. Check the yogurt in the morning to see if it is yogurt. If it is not quite done, give it a little more time but not more than 10 hours altogether. Because you started with cream, the texture of the yogurt will be a little different than if you had made it with milk, but it will still have that somewhat jelled look of yogurt.

Note on cultured vs. sweet cream butter: Cultured butter has a tangier taste and it contains live, good bacteria that helps to preserve the butter. Butter was originally made from yogurt in times without refrigeration. If you want to try an uncultured butter, in the US called sweet cream butter, skip this step, eliminate the yogurt, and go on to making your butter!

Make the butter in a mixer. Put the cream in the bowl of a mixer and turn it to the highest setting, as if you were whipping cream. Let it go for about 10 minutes or until it splits. What you have now is butter and buttermilk, even though it may not look like it.

-or-

Make butter in a jar. If you’re not working with a large amount, you can always place the cream in a jar and shake it up. For a pint this takes about 5-10 minutes of shaking. Not vigorous, just jostling the cream back and forth. If you shake it up and down, make sure to also jostle it around in a circle every so often. You’ll notice the cream gets thicker, then starts to separate, and finally turns into a thick mass with a watery substance splashing around in there. Those are the curds of butter!

Strain the butter. Put a large strainer over a large bowl and pour the butter/buttermilk into the strainer. Leave it for a few minutes to strain. What you are left with in the strainer is butter. What you have in the bowl is buttermilk. Store the buttermilk in the fridge. Make sure you try some, although I personally did enjoy it more when it was cool.

Rinse the butter. Put the butter back in your mixer or jar and the equivalent of half your whey in water. Mix for 10 seconds, then strain this watery liquid down the drain. Return the butter to the jar or mixer and repeat 3 or 4 times until the liquid runs clear. This will eliminate any of the excess whey and help keep your butter from going rancid.

Note: If you choose to salt your butter, you can do so at this time. We don’t salt ours so I can’t give you recommendations on quantity.

Prepare the butter to keep. (For ghee-goers, skip this step.) Place the butter on a work surface or atop wax paper. Using a wooden spoon or spatula, fold the butter back and forth, kind of like kneading, until it’s in the shape you want. Or, you can pack it into a vessel to store for later. This steps makes a smooth texture and also removes any excess moisture.

Tip: If you find the butter is too soft to work with, you can stick it in the fridge for 5-10 minutes before handling.

Make ghee. Now you are ready to make the world’s best ghee. If you are not familiar with the process of making ghee, check out Anjuli’s blog post on ghee.

Note: Some of the creams we have experimented with were very frothy in the pan, all the way up until the milk solids sunk to the bottom and began to brown. If you find this happens to you, don’t panic. It’s all good!

A couple months ago Matt and I stopped ingesting large sums of caffeine. For people who spend a lot of time at their computers – programming and writing respectively – this is sort of professional suicide. We cut out basically everything except chocolate. And I’m not saying we swapped it out for some English Breakfast or Mate (which, BTW, is NOT coffee, but a bitter tonic that makes you feel like your chest is in a vice grip). For people who know us, this was a huge red flag – not the first indication that we’d gone off the deep end. They assumed we were half way to converting to Jainism and wearing bug nets in front of faces so we didn’t, perchance, swallow an unsuspecting fly, and that our cussing had been reduced to references to sweet snacks. Naaah, we’re still us, just not artificially pepped up like jackhammers. Really, my body needed a break. The caffeine wasn’t working anymore. Part of me also assumed I’d be like all the other 20-somethings out there who look back fondly and sheepishly at that one glorious year after college when they attempted to get off the juice. Or that it would be like the time we went on THE MASTER CLEANSE. We subjected ourselves to a few days of eating lemons, grade A maple syrup and cayenne pepper before we broke down, partially because we could barely concentrate enough to remember to drink the stuff, and raced around Manhattan looking for maple sugar candy leaves or a maple tree to tap. This is before we realized Manhattan is not in New England.

But to stop drinking coffee was nothing like this. It started as a haze and was followed by some serious tiredness; tiredness like it’s a disease. We could feel a huge sigh from our bodies, as in “thanks a f*cking lot.” And then it more or less disappeared. Yes, I have trouble concentrating sometimes. Yes, I get seriously tired sometimes. But I can sense my body’s level of energy more, anticipate what I need more. I generally feel less like a zombie and more alive. And yes, I still each chocolate, so I can’t say I am 100% scrubbed clean.

So what, pray tell, could this possibly have to do with a delicious, salty, smoky salsa? Well I’ll tell you, it’s all in the chips. See when the caffeine stopped flowing, we found ourselves gravitating towards natural, physical stimulants: like the age-old chips and salsa. It sounds totally ridiculous, but there is no better wake-up call when driving than a delicious handful of a couple crispy fried tortilla chips. Prove me right or prove me wrong.

This recipe came about while we were in chip and salsa mecca: Santa Fe. Poblanos have a wonderful smoky sweetness when you roast them, which is what you should always do with chiles. The heat of the salsa and the crisp, exploding chip in your mouth reminds you of the power of food – to enliven, enhance, and stimulate the senses. Sometimes this can be taken overboard. But right now, boy, tortilla chips and homemade salsa, I am so happy to have found you again.

Roasted poblano salsa with tomatoes, onions, and black olives
4 poblano chiles
1-2 jalapeño chiles (depending on heat and preference)
3 medium-sized tomatoes, diced, about 1 1/2 cups
1/2 large large sweet onion, peeled
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon cumin seeds, dry roasted in a frying pan and ground
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
1 handful salt-cured black olives, pitted and chopped coarsely
Fresh squeeze of lime juice
A handful of cilantro leaves, washed, and minced

Get a few plastic bags or a bowl and some saran wrap ready. Roast the poblanos and jalapeño(s). With a pair of tongs over a gas stove, place the peppers in the center of the flame and turn up to high. Allow each side to char completely before turning over with the tongs. If the pepper is too long you may need to move the chile to the edge of the burner to get the tip charred. Once each chile is evenly charred, place it into the ziploc or bowl and allow to steam for 10 minutes.

Once cool, remove the chiles and holding the stem in one hand, run your thumb and forefinger down the length of each poblano to remove the charred skin. If it doesn’t all come off, take a paring knife and scrape the excess. Do not run the chile under cold water. De-stem, seed, and dice the chiles. Remove the skin from the jalapeño(s). De-stem and de-seed (if desired), then chop the chile(s).

Take the peeled and halved onion and place, outside down onto the burner. Once turning soft and charred on the outside, remove from the heat and remove the outside layer. Don’t do this with the skin on, as it will burn too quickly and make a ashy mess. Dice the onion.

Assemble all ingredients in a bowl. Adjust seasoning. Allow to sit for 10-20 minutes for the flavors to meld. Serve with your favorite tortilla chips.

Selecting a chip
We ate our fair share of tortilla chips in Santa Fe and, well, I guess I have opinions about tortilla chips, now, don’t I? While they’re not the most healthful of maize products, nor are they traditionally Mexican, they are a lesser evil that I love. Here’s some of the skinny (and the fat) on your options. Once I buckle down and learn to make soft corn tortillas, I will be frying them up pronto.

Like many other foods in history, the tortilla was “discovered” by arrogant, greedy, blood-gold-and-spice-lusting Europeans, who came across a native food in their search for wealth, named it in their own language, then massacred the people and incorporated the food into their own diet. In this case the Spanish conquistador Hernán Cortez and his men observed the flat corn bread, known in the native Nahuatl language as tlaxcalli (from the Aztecs or Mayans), named it the tortilla (after the Spanish rounded cakes of that name) and then killed off both cultures and destroyed much of their very un-Christian knowledge.

The original tlaxcalli was probably made by combining maize with ash from the fire and water. This process allowed the maize to be more easily ground and liberated proteins and vitamins for digestion, namely the B-vitamin niacin. Failing to recognize this technique, many of the first Europeans of the New World developed the deficiency disease pellegra. Today limewater (the mineral, not the fruit) is used, and the process is called nixtamalization. After adding the alkaline solution, the maize is cooked, steeped, and washed. At this stage it is referred to as nixtamal. Then it is either ground and used as masa (wet dough), or dried for masa harina (dry flour). The wet dough can be turned directly into tortillas, while the dry needs to be reconstituted with water. Bob’s Red Mill has a good masa harina.

The frying and shape of the tortilla chip came as late as the mid-20th century as a lucrative byproduct of our industrial food system. In the 50s, El Zarape Tortilla Factory in California revolutionized the tortilla making process with the first industrial machine, producing tortillas a dozen times faster than could be done by hand. At first the machines also produced many misshapen tortillas. These were discarded until company president Rebecca Carranza thought to fry them up in oil. The resulting “Tort Chips” became the business’ primary product, which sold for a dollar and ultimately developed into an industry that names Doritos among its biggest sellers.

We look for Organic chips with minimal ingredients that aren’t too greasy and have a good crunch. Outside of good Mexican restaurants, we’ve been enjoying Que Pasa, made from Organic blue corn and non-GMO canola oil (Organic Blue Corn), Garden of Eatin (Organic Blue Chips and Red Hot Blues) and Xochitl (Totopos de Maiz).

While we really enjoy the taste of Food Should Taste Good‘s Chocolate, Lime, and The Works, they don’t offer an organic corn chip. Next to soy, corn is the most highly processed ingredient in our food system. For us, eating non-organic GMO corn and its products is something that, regardless of taste, we avoid at all costs. While Organic foods are not the cleanest, most nutritious, most cared-for, or least processed foods in general, when it comes to foods like corn, the Organic label at least indicates that the food has not been genetically modified. And as I find with virtually all foods, the deeper the color, the richer the taste. So I generally buy blues, baby.

Ok ok, so I didn’t make this pizza. It’s from HUB (that’s Hopworks Urban Brewery) here in Portland. They have good beers, burgers, and pizza. Amen. This one was topped with feta, mozzarella, spinach, black olives, and garlic. I can’t make any claims to its deliciousness other than the fact we had the foresight to pack up after 4 slices last night and bring the rest home to reheat for lunch today in the toaster oven. Oh, and I may have slipped a few sardines in there. This was an excellent pizza yesterday. But today, that feta toasted beautifully, all golden and bubbling; those black olives developed little crispy edges and oh… let’s just say I closed my eyes while eating this slice. But the real secret is that almost burnt outer crust with its earthy goodness (and obviously carcinogenic badness, so don’t eat the totally charred bits) and golden, flaky layers which give way to a decidedly chewy center. I think the following day it’s more pie than pizza. Anything good about a pizza pie can only be enhanced in the toaster oven. Few foods can lay claim to being reborn. Pizza, well, few foods are pizza for sure.

My mom likes to freeze her pizza and then reheat it. She’s the Queen of burnt toasty bits and crusty edges. I know it’s a loaded question, but where do you find yourself on the subject of crusts? Do you sneak them to the corner of the plate and hide them under the napkin, do you eat them indiscriminately along with the rest of the slice, or do you save them for last to linger over? Not like I would call you out or anything, but for anyone (ahem) who sneaks those crusts away and pretends to have eaten them, where are your manners? Besides, that is what the slippery inside pieces of a large pizza are for. Seriously, you’re NOT going to eat that?

So the next time you go out for pizza, remember, while those two beers and two slices haven’t entirely filled you up, what do you think you’ll enjoy more? Stuffing your face now, or relishing that little delight tomorrow?

For homemade pizza inspiration, here’s a good one for ya.