A Haft Sin table, a tradition for Nowruz. Image courtesy of Flickr user Hamed Saber

Of all the times that various cultures observe the new year—January 1 on the Gregorian calendar, late winter on the lunar calendar, or early fall on the Jewish calendar—I think the one that makes the most sense is Nowruz, the Iranian new year, celebrated at the Northern Hemisphere’s spring equinox. Nothing says “new start” like the first buds of leaves growing on trees or the return of animals from hibernation, at least in those places with distinct seasons.

This year Nowruz  falls on March 20, at 9:32:13 p.m. (Tehran time), to be precise. Recently the United Nations passed a resolution recognizing March 21 as the “International Day of Nowruz.” The observance dates back to ancient Zoroastrian tradition, and is also celebrated in many of the countries of Central Asia that were once part of, or influenced by, the Persian Empire. Because it predates Islam, its observance has sometimes been controversial. The Taliban banned it in Afghanistan before 2001, and just this week, Iranian officials denounced the ancient fire festival, Chaharshanbeh Suri, traditionally held on the eve of the Wednesday before the new year.

While jumping over bonfires is probably the most exciting element of the festivities, food also holds an important place in both Chaharshanbeh Suri and Nowruz celebrations. Ajeel, a mix of seven nuts and dried fruits, is distributed. (Seven is a significant number in Persian mythology.) Ash-e Reshteh is a noodle soup that is said to bring good luck, and is eaten whenever starting something new.

Spring foods, especially fresh herbs, are featured prominently in Nowruz dishes such as sabzi polo va mahi, herbed rice with fish. Fresh herb kuku is a fluffy omelet that incorporates lots of herbs plus another symbol of spring, eggs. Decorating eggs, much like Easter eggs, is also a traditional part of the celebration.

A few weeks before Nowruz, people begin sprouting lentils, wheat or barley seeds, called sabzeh. By the holiday the seeds or legumes will have shoots several inches long, providing a powerful symbol of rebirth.

The sabzeh is then used for the sofreh haft sin, an arrangement of (at least) seven symbolic items that begin with the letter “s” (or, sometimes, the letter that corresponds to the “sh” sound in English), which is an essential element of the celebration. Like many traditions with ancient roots, the original significance of the haft sin is difficult to nail down. For instance, I haven’t been able to find out why the items must begin with “s”—if anyone out there can tell us, please comment below. One of the clearest explanations I have found is that the seven items correspond to the seven stages in which the material world was believed to have been created.

Aside from the sabzeh, these items include lotus fruit (senjed), symbolizing love; apples (sib), symbolizing health; a sprouted wheat pudding called samanu, symbolizing sweetness and fertility; vinegar (serkeh), which signifies age and patience (traditionally, wine—sharab—was used, but alcohol is not permitted in Islam); sumac berries (somagh), which either represent the color of sunrise, when good triumphs over evil, or the “spice of life”; and garlic (seer), a symbol of medicine. Additional items, some starting with “s” and some not, are also often included.

Many people also serve one of my favorite s-words: sweets, like this Persian pistachio nougat, flavored with rose water.

Happy Nowruz!

Still from "Peaceable Kingdom: The Journey Home," a 2009 documentary about farming.

I’m faced with some tough decisions: many of these sound fascinating, but it’s not physically possible for me to make it to all of the screenings. Here’s hoping Netflix will have a few of these titles eventually….

1. Fresh (USA, 2009, 72 min.) This showed last night, sorry—I missed it, too! But this documentary is making the rounds nationwide; find a schedule here or even host your own screening. It features farmers, activists and businesspeople who are “re-inventing our food system” with an eye to both sustainability and practicality.

2. Terra Madre (Italy, 2009, 78 min) Ermanno Olmi’s documentary combines reportage about the international Slow Food movement with lyrical images of farmers and their environment. Screening at 7 p.m. on Thursday, March 18 (tonight!) at the E Street Cinema, tickets are $10.

3. The following four films will be shown consecutively in a free screening on Saturday, March 20, in the National Museum of Natural History’s Baird Auditorium:

12:30 p.m.: Dirt! The Movie (USA, 2009, 90 min.), a documentary about why soil is so important to all life, narrated by Jamie Lee Curtis.

2 p.m.: Ladies of the Land (USA, 2007, 30 min.), a profile of four women farmers, in recognition of the growing proportion of women in American agriculture.

2:45 p.m.: Soil in Good Heart (USA, 2008, 14 min), about the literal earth we depend on to grow food. This is a preview of a longer film in progress by Deborah Koons Garcia, whose “The Future of Food” (2004) is also worth watching.

3 p.m.: Seed Hunter (Australia, 2008, 59 min.) spans several continents chasing scientist Ken Street, a “real-life Indiana Jones” (though I think Nikolay Vavilov would be a more impressive comparison) as he collects seeds from hardy, drought-resistant indigenous crop species that could help humanity cope with climate change.

4. The following three films will be shown in a free screening on Sunday, March 21, in the National Museum of Natural History’s Baird Auditorium:

Noon: Homegrown (USA, 2009, 52 min.) How one California family lives and farms “off the grid” in an urban environment.

1 p.m.: Ingredients (USA, 2007, 66 min.) Traces the birth and progress of the local, sustainable foods movement in America.

2:15 p.m. Honey for the Maya (US, 2009, 8 min.) The ancient Mayan art of keeping stingless bees.

5.  Lunch (USA, 2010, 25 min) looks at the links between nutrition and learning, through the lens of Baltimore’s public school cafeterias. Larry Engel’s Potato Heads (USA, 2010, 30 min) explores the history of the potato while tying into larger agricultural issues. Free screening of both films at American University’s Wechsler theater at 7 p.m. on Monday, March 22.

6. Nora! (USA, 2009, 30 min) celebrates chef and farmers’ market champion Nora Pouillon, whose namesake DC eatery was the nation’s first certified organic restaurant. Free 7 p.m. screening on Tuesday, March 23 at International Student House, followed by discussion with Nora Pouillon.

7. Seeds of Hunger (USA, 2009, 52 min) A primer on the political, environmental and social challenges of achieving food security as the global population climbs. Free screening at 4 p.m. on Wednesday, March 24 at the World Bank, RSVP required.

8. Harvest of Shame (USA, 1960, 55 min) The National Archives revisits CBS television broadcaster Edward R. Murrow’s powerful investigative report about the plight of migrant farm workers in the United States. Free screening 7 p.m. on Wednesday, March 24, followed by discussion with Bob Edwards.

9. E2 Transport: Food Miles (USA, 2008, 30 min), narrated by Brad Pitt, addresses the problems of a fossil-fuel driven food transportation system and highlights solutions. Next up, The Great Food Revolution: 24 Hours, 24 Million Meals (Canada, 2009, 45 min) uses the microcosm of New York City to illustrate the “complex choreography” of food distribution. Free screening of both films at 7 p.m. on Thursday, March 25 at the Maret School.

11. Our Daily Bread (Austria, 2005, 92 min) describes itself as “pure, meticulous and high-end film experience that enables the audience to form their own ideas” about the systems at the heart of industrial food production. Free screening at 7:30 p.m. on March 25 at the Embassy of Austria. Reservations are required.

12. Food Fight (USA, 2008, 73 min). Christopher Taylor’s documentary about the corporatization of the American food system in the 20th century, and the growth of alternative local-sustainable-organic foods movement. Free screening at noon on Friday, March 26 at the Martin Luther King Jr. Library.

13. Peaceable Kingdom: The Journey Home (USA, 2009, 78 min). A film that “explores the awakening conscience of several people who grew up in traditional farming culture and who have now come to question the basic premises” of their way of life.  Free screening at 12:15 p.m. on Saturday, March 27 at the Carnegie Institution for Science.

Irish whiskies, courtesy of Flickr user catzrule99

Long before Guinness brewed its first pint of stout, and centuries before Americans started adding green food coloring to their beer (or, in some cases, milk) every March 17, Ireland gave birth to what many consider that nation’s signature tipple: whiskey. While Guinness may be good for you, according to its classic slogan, the name of the Emerald Isle’s more potent potable comes from the Gaelic for “water of life.”

Further bolstering the case for whiskey as the most appropriate choice for St. Patrick’s Day alcohol consumption is the (probably unreliable) legend that claims the process of distillation was introduced to Ireland by none other than the saint himself. While no one knows for sure when whiskey made its debut, it is usually accepted that it originated in Ireland sometime in the Middle Ages—the first whiskey distillery licensed in the British Isles was Bushmills, in Northern Ireland, in 1608—before spreading to Scotland and, later, to the United States and Canada.

What makes Irish whiskey different from the products of those countries? For one thing, spelling. For reasons that, according to The Glutton’s Glossary by John Ayto, probably had to do with marketing rather than language differences, around the end of the 19th century it became standard that the Irish (and Americans) make whiskey and Scots (and Canadians) make whisky.

But more than an “e” distinguishes Irish whiskey from Scotch. Irish whiskey is made with a blend of malted and unmalted barley in the pot still phase, whereas Scotch uses only malted barley (grain that has been soaked so that it begins to sprout). Also, the malted barley in Scotch is dried over peat smoke, which gives it a distinctive flavor; Irish whiskey, which is made from kiln-dried barley, tastes more of the grain itself.

Finally, unlike Scotch, which is distilled twice, Irish whiskey is usually triple-distilled, which results in a smoother, higher-alcohol spirit. This practice was introduced by John Jameson, a Scottish transplant who established one of Ireland’s most successful whiskey distilleries, in 1780.

In order to appreciate the subtleties of flavor, the aficionado drinks Irish whiskey neat, or with a bit of water, which is supposed to bring out the liquor’s hidden characteristics. Of course, it also goes nicely in an Irish coffee.

Not being an aficionado myself, my favorite way to have whiskey is baked in a dessert, like this bittersweet chocolate Irish whiskey cake, where its bite nicely balances out the sweetness.

Green food coloring in milk, courtesy Flickr user mr_orange

And best of all was our requisite daily glass of milk: On those mornings, the milk was miraculously green, with a giant marshmallow floating in it. The marshmallow was topped with a decorative plastic toothpick, shaped like a shamrock with a happy little leprechaun skipping across it.

I think this particular tradition was my mother’s unique invention (at least the marshmallow part), but I have other friends whose parents celebrated by cooking up green pancakes or “green eggs and ham,” Dr. Seuss-style, or baking batches of green-frosted cookies and cupcakes to share. And then there’s the green beer served up by many bars this time of year. It’s all made me wonder: What exactly is in green food coloring? Is it made from bugs, like red food coloring? Is it safe to consume in large quantities?

According to an article in Chemical and Engineering News, the color known as Green No. 3, or “Fast Green,” is a “petroleum-derived triphenylmethane.” Green food coloring can also be made by combining blue and yellow dyes, but either way, it’s usually synthetic. Chlorophyll would do the job naturally, but oddly enough, it’s not approved for use as a food coloring in the United States. (The FDA has only approved these nine color additives for use in food.)

The INCHEM database details the studies performed on rats, mice, hamsters and even beagles to test the safety of Green No. 3 as a food additive. It’s not exactly appetizing reading, I warn you—but basically, yes, it appears the chemical is safe to consume in small doses.

On the other hand, the Center for Science in the Public Interest recently included Green No. 3 on a list of artificial food dyes linked to behavior problems like ADHD in children. (Blue 1 dye, used in at least one popular brand of green food coloring, is also on the list of suspects.)

Judge for yourself, but personally, I’m concluding that a glass of green milk once a year is nothing to fear—and beyond that, I’ll stick to getting my greens in the form of vegetables.

Salt shaker, courtesy of Flickr user Leonid_Mamchenkov

If a ban proposed by Brooklyn assemblyman Felix Ortiz passes, New York chefs will be banned from using salt in food preparation in all restaurants. The bill states: “No owner or operator of a restaurant in this state shall use salt in any form in the preparation of any food for consumption by customers of such restaurant, including food prepared to be consumed on the premises of such restaurant or off of such premises.” Ortiz suggests a $1,000 fine for each violation

The New York Daily News led off their coverage with this: “If State Assemblyman Felix Ortiz has his way, the only salt added to your meal will come from the chef’s tears.” The New York Times covered the story on their blog. The Baltimore Sun pointed out that not only does salt add flavor, it also affects the chemical reactions that happen during baking (as well as the texture of baked goods). Max Fischer at The Atlantic guessed that Ortiz never actually wanted the ban to pass but rather wanted to get media attention and make other restrictions seem reasonable. He definitely got the media attention.

Ortiz told the Albany Times Union that he was inspired by his father who “used salt excessively for many years, developed high blood pressure and had a heart attack.” Under Ortiz’s salt ban, the public would still be allowed to add salt at the table. I have to admit that if I got a batch of unsalted fries, I would add just as much, if not more, salt than the cooks in the kitchen would have.

Ortiz did issue a clarification later in the week: “My intention for this legislation was to prohibit the use of salt as an additive to meals. If salt is a functional component of the recipe, by all means, it should be included. But, when we have meals prepared by restaurants that pile unnecessary amounts of salt, we have a problem.”

New York is not new to bans. New York City passed a ban on trans fat in 2006. For a column in the Chicago Tribune, Mary Schmich talked to Nicole Pederson, executive chef at C-House in Chicago, who compared the ban to the trans fat ban with one important distinction: “Trans fat is bad in every single way… But salt is not bad in every single way.”

A Mediterranean-influenced soup with chickpeas, tomatoes, spinach and tahini. Photograph by Lisa Bramen

Last weekend, I challenged myself to cook without recipes for the rest of the week. I had been feeling bogged down by the amount of time I was spending researching recipes and planning menus and shopping lists. I wanted to test my creativity and ability, and push myself to be more spontaneous. I went to the supermarket Friday without a list and without a plan.

The results: a mixed bag, but more positive than negative. The good news was that I know more about cooking than I gave myself credit for. Everything I made was at least edible, and some of it was really good.

I started strong on Sunday with a Mediterranean-influenced soup, using ingredients that I knew went well together but hadn’t necessarily seen combined in this way. I sautéed some chopped onion and garlic, then added a can of chickpeas, some leftover canned chopped tomatoes, chicken broth, a little sherry and some spices. After it was heated I stirred in a spoonful of tahini, which gave it a little creaminess and a delicious flavor. I threw in some chopped fresh spinach until it was just cooked, then blended about 3/4 of the soup so that it would still have some chunks. Finally, I added some leftover cooked rice and let it heat through. The soup was filling and flavorful, and I had just enough left over to bring for lunch the next day.

On Monday, I decided to adapt a macaroni and cheese dish I’ve tried before. In order to cut down on fat and sneak in some vegetables, I had once tried a recipe from, I believe, Food & Wine magazine that replaced part of the cheese with pureed carrot. It was good, but slightly sweet, so I wanted to try the same idea with a different vegetable—cauliflower. I steamed and pureed it with some milk, then mixed it with shredded extra sharp cheddar and jack cheese and a little ground mustard, paprika and cayenne pepper. Then I stirred it into the cooked macaroni, added some chopped tomatoes and chopped green chilis, sprinkled more shredded cheese and Parmesan on top and baked until it looked done. Another success: it wouldn’t beat out a good creamy full-fat version, but it was surprisingly satisfying. I considered the fact that my partner, who doesn’t watch calories, voluntarily finished off the leftovers the next day a good sign.

On Tuesday the problem with my laissez-faire grocery shopping became clear. That is usually my partner’s night to cook, since I work on the blog then. Although he has recently taken up baking (a hobby I wholeheartedly support), his cooking repertoire is mostly limited to pasta or pizza (using pre-made crust). I had bought the crust but failed to check to see if we had mozzarella left. We didn’t. He finished the leftover mac-and-cheese, and I heated up some boxed soup.

Wednesday I made chicken fajitas. Again, my lack of a shopping list came back to haunt me—no lime juice for a marinade. I improvised with some lemon juice and what seemed like a good idea at the time: the juice from a jar of Spanish olives. I won’t say that it was bad, but I wouldn’t use it again. A side of chopped mango and avocado sprinkled with cayenne pepper and lemon juice (again, lime would have been better) somewhat redeemed the meal.

Thursday was my final night of winging it. On the excellent advice of some of our commenters, I decided to riff on a recipe I have made before, acorn squash stuffed with vegetables. The recipe I usually follow calls for chopped carrots, onions, red bell pepper and celery, sautéed with garlic, ginger, soy sauce and white wine, and topped with shredded cheese. I decided to use the rest of the cauliflower, plus red bell pepper and onions, left out the ginger and used balsamic vinegar instead of soy sauce. I also added a bit of cayenne pepper (few things can’t be improved with a little heat, in my opinion). The flavor was good, but without consulting the recipe I didn’t know how long to bake it. I should have let the squash cook all the way through before putting the filling and cheese in; the squash was slightly undercooked and by the time I realized my mistake it was too late because the cheese was already browned.

Overall, I am pretty happy with how things came out. I would make both the soup and the macaroni and cheese again, and it was liberating, and confidence-building, to improvise each day. I saved money and was less wasteful because I didn’t have a list of specific ingredients I had to buy for recipes; instead, I used what I had available, including leftovers.

On the other hand, at times I felt a little lost without the guidance of a recipe, especially for knowing how long to cook things and at what temperature. From now on, I’ll try to use recipes as a starting point, rather than following them slavishly.

Sally Lunn's museum in Bath, England. Courtesy Flickr user wallyg

Though the language was old-fashioned, the recipes for treats like “ginger-bread cakes,” “pear pye” and “apple pasties” (turnovers) sounded pretty familiar. “Shrewsbury cakes” didn’t ring a bell, until the notes added by modern authors explained that these are simply sugar cookies.

But the enigmatic “Sally Lunn” was translated into modern English as a recipe for, well, Sally Lunn. It seems to be a type of cake or bread made with yeast, flour, sugar, shortening, milk, eggs and salt. (I haven’t tried making it yet because I don’t actually own any cake or bread pans. But read on—apparently these can be formed as buns, too.)

Who was Sally Lunn?

Well, that’s hard to say. She might have been a real woman, a French-born pastry cook named Solange Luyon who fled to England as a refugee in the late 17th-century. A modern-day bakery and museum called Sally Lunn’s still stands on the site in Bath where she is said to have baked and sold a distinctive type of bun:

Legend has it that from her home in France, where the Protestant Huguenots were being cruelly persecuted, came young Sally Lunn to find employment with a baker who rented premises in Lilliput Alley. She sold his wares in the street, but when her skill at baking Brioche was discovered she no doubt spent for more time in the bakery itself. Sally Lunn’s Buns were a tremendous success; others tried hard to copy them, but her skill with the rich, soft and delicate dough inspired customers specifically to request the Sally Lunn.

But other stories abound. A 19th-century British book says the buns in question were invented by a French refugee named Madame de Narbonne, who established a bakery in Chelsea, England sometime around 1800. She specialized in “a particular type of tea cake” which became quite popular in local households, and Sally Lunn was the name of the Scotch maidservant who delivered it.

Or perhaps there was no Sally Lunn, and the baked buns got their name from their appearance, round and contrasting (the bottom side being dark from baking), like the sun and the moon: Soleil et lune, in French, transformed by cockney British accents into something more like “Solly Lun.”

On the flipside, another story claims that the recipe originated in Britain and was appropriated by a visiting French chef named Marie Antoine Careme, who soon “invented” a slightly adapted version of the sweet bread, called it a solilemme.

Whoever invented Sally Lunn bread in its various forms, it seems clear that British colonists enjoyed this food tradition enough to carry it across an ocean, where it continued to evolve in form and recipe throughout the 18th and 19th centuries. An 1892 newspaper article claims that George Washington was so fond of Sally Lunn that it became known as “Washington’s breakfast bread” or “federal bread.”

Personally, I don’t think the plain, round versions pictured on the Sally Lunn’s bakery Web site look all that enticing. I’m more tempted by the bundt-cake version of Sally Lunn, topped with cardamom sugar, on the Brooklyn Farmhouse blog, and the Sally Lunn herbed rolls featured on the Food Channel.

Have you ever tried a Sally Lunn?

Here’s the circa 1770 recipe which was reprinted in the Williamsburg cookbook:

Beat four eggs well; then melt a large Tablespoonful of Butter, put it in a Teacup of warm Water, and pour it to the Eggs with a Teaspoon of Salt and a Teacup of Yeast (this means Potato Yeast); beat in a Quart of Flour making the Batter stiff enough for a Spoon to stand in. Put it to rise before the Fire the Night before. Beat it over in the Morning, grease your Cake-mould and put it in Time enough to rise before baking. Should you want it for Supper, make it up at 10:00 o’Clock in the Morning in the Winter and 12: o’Clock in the Summer.

Spanish olive oil and bread at DC's Jaleo restaurant, courtesy of Flickr user Kevin H.

Although people usually associate olive oil most closely with Italy, Spain is the world’s largest producer of the stuff. In fact, chances are good that, if you have tasted olive oil, you have tasted olive oil from Spain.

A few days ago I attended a presentation on Spanish agricultural products at a language school and fair-trade store in upstate New York where I used to take Spanish lessons. The presenter, Thilo Ullman-Zahn, imports artisanal olive oil from Spain, which we got to sample, along with some Manchego cheese and Rioja wine.

Frankly, I was more eager to try the Rioja and Manchego—both of which were delicious—than the olive oil, but it was interesting to learn about it. And, as it turned out, interesting to taste. We sampled two types of oil from an estate in southwestern Spain: Marqués de Valdueza extra virgin olive oil, which is best for dipping, drizzling or using in dressings; and Merula, the estate’s all-purpose extra-virgin olive oil, intended for cooking. We didn’t use any fancy techniques, like aspiration, that professional tasters employ—we just dipped in a spoon and slurped. But the difference between the two oils was easily discernible, even by a novice like me. The Merula, blended to be more robust so that the flavor can withstand heat, was bland initially, then “blossomed” with fruity olive taste. The Marqués de Valdueza oil, Ullman-Zahn told us, is blended for aroma, so that its fragrance and flavor are immediately apparent. The oils are made from a blend of four varieties of olives, in different combinations, each with different characteristics: arbequina is a little sour with a flavor that fades quickly; hojiblanca is “fruity, sweet and peppery”; morisca is sweet, but difficult to grow; and picual has the most robust flavor.

In Spain, he said, it has become fashionable in the last 20 years or so to eat toasted bread drizzled with olive oil for breakfast—not a bad idea, with a good-quality, flavorful oil, since it is considered a healthier fat than, say, butter or cream cheese.

Italy doesn’t grow nearly enough olives to satisfy domestic demand, much less feed the international appetite for “Italian” olive oil—which probably has more to do with perception than its inherent superiority. So it imports oil from other countries, including Spain, processes and packages it, and re-exports it with an “imported from Italy” mark. Sure enough, I went home and looked at my bottle of Filippo Berio extra virgin olive oil in the cupboard. In the top left corner of the label it said, “Imported from Italy,” but on the back it said, “Packed in Italy with select extra virgin olive oils from Italy, Spain, Greece and Tunisia.”

Until July 2009, the European Union didn’t require olive oil labels to state the country of origin of the olives used in the product; if it was packaged in Italy, that was good enough. Under the new rules, though, intended to combat fraud in the industry, labels have to identify the origin; if it’s a blend, the label must specify whether it comes from EU or non-EU countries.

Of course, this only takes care of the most obvious form of misrepresentation in the business—olive oil fraud has been a problem since at least Ancient Greece. It probably won’t stop those who try to pass off hazelnut or sunflower oil as olive oil, using devious methods—like adding chlorophyll and flavorings—recounted in a 2007 article in The New Yorker.

However, it will bring olive oil closer to the way other agricultural products, such as wine, are labeled, and might even give the other oil-producing countries a little more recognition.

Jars full of pickled goodies, courtesy of Flickr user Jo Peattie

Salty and crunchy cucumber pickles have been a mainstay in American refrigerators for decades. But The Daily Beast recently listed pickling as one of its top trends for 2010. And the trend isn’t just for cucumbers—you can pickle just about anything. At the restaurant where I work, we serve pickled red onion on our burgers and pickled beets in our salads.

Pickling is by no means a new technique. Vegetables, fruit and even meats can be preserved using the pickling process to keep them good for months after their peak. Different cultures have their favorite pickle fodder. Korea has kimchi, Scandinavia pickled herring and Italy giardiniera. There are two standard pickling methods: the salt-brining method, which results in a shelf-stable pickle, and the refrigerator, or quick, pickle method. The latter pickles are created using a vinegar solution and must, as the name suggests, be stored in the refrigerator.

When I began searching for recipes, I came across the great Food in Jars blog that focuses on, among other jar-based endeavors, pickles. Although I didn’t end up choosing a recipe from here, mostly because I wanted an in-season quick pickle, I learned a great deal about the basics. For instance, when pickling vegetables, it’s important to use a vinegar that has at least 5 percent acidity. In the brine, this can be diluted to one part vinegar, one part water.

When I visited the Spotted Pig in New York City on my pig-eating journey, I ate pickled pears in an appetizer and really wanted to try some at home. I remembered the pickling episode of “Good Eats” and the pickled summer fruit recipe. In this recipe, Alton Brown uses Bartlett pears and plums. Since neither of those are in season right now, I went with the sweeter Comice pear, which is in season, and cut out the plum altogether. I kept the rest of the recipe the same with lemon slices and slivered fresh ginger.

Since these were quick pickles and would be stored in the refrigerator, I didn’t have to worry about sterilizing the can. I cooked up the vinegar mixture and poured it over the pear, lemon and ginger already packed into a recycled pasta sauce jar. I let the whole thing cool on the counter for a bit and put it into the refrigerator for two days. (The recipe suggests two days to a week in the refrigerator.)

After 48 hours of marinating, I opened the jar and was surprised at how sweet the pears and brine smelled. I pulled out a pear and bit in. The pear slice still had quite a bit of crunch to it, and the vinegar had soaked into the flesh. I got notes of lemon and ginger from the rest of the ingredients. While they’re pretty good now, I want to wait and see what they taste like after a week in the brine. I already have plans to use the leftover liquid as a vinaigrette for a salad.

Are all these cookbooks a help or a hindrance? Photograph by Lisa Bramen

Most home cooks consult recipes at least some of the time, whether for inspiration or instruction. Others seem to be able to look at the ingredients in their pantries and conjure a delicious and innovative meal without so much as cracking a cookbook.

I fit squarely within the former category. Other than a handful of simple dishes that I have learned how to make by memory, I almost always look to recipes both for ideas of what to cook and for an explanation of how to prepare it. Part of the reason is that I am relatively new to cooking: until a few years ago I usually lived alone, so it rarely seemed worthwhile to make anything more complicated than some pasta, a salad or a stir-fry. I consider my collection of cookbooks (and great online resources, like Epicurious, Chow and myrecipes) a low-budget cooking school.

But a few months ago I moved to a house in the country, where the supermarket is a 25-minute drive away. This means I can go shopping only once a week, so I have to plan out the menu in advance—a time-consuming task since I seem to feel compelled to look at 1,000 recipes to come up with the five or six I want to make that week. It also means I can’t be spontaneous. I get frustrated when my partner decides he wants to go out for a beer and wings on a Sunday, when I have planned to make a soup that would take too long to make on a weeknight, and which I had intended to take leftovers of for lunches during the work week.

Even though I am trying new recipes all the time, I feel like I’m in a rut, overly reliant on recipes. I’m a creative person in other areas of my life; why don’t I trust myself to be creative in the kitchen?

I wasn’t always so timid about striking out on my own in the kitchen. I remember rifling through the cupboards as a child, taste-testing—apple cider vinegar and unsweetened chocolate were shocking disappointments—and occasionally concocting recipes from them. OK, chocolate “mousse”—made from Cool Whip and Nestle Quik chocolate powder (before it became Nesquik)—may not have been haute cuisine, but the peanut butter muffins I devised from various ingredients I had seen my mother use came out surprisingly muffin-like, considering I had no idea how much of each ingredient to use. Surely, with a little more experience under my belt, I could improve on these early experiments.

Therefore, I have challenged myself to forgo recipes for a week, with the goal of being more creative, more spontaneous and free from hours of planning. I went to the market Friday without a list, which was liberating in itself. I’m hoping I bought the right amount of food, since I spent $20-40 less than usual. I’ll report back on Friday about how it went.

Does anyone have suggestions for how I should proceed?

There were three main themes, each with its own set of panelists: Food safety, food security/hunger, and “the way we eat” (consumer behavior; nutrition and obesity issues). That’s too much for one blog post, obviously, so I’ll take one at a time.

Everyone who touches food has a stake in its safety. Image courtesy Flickr user saschaaa

As I’ve written before, food safety is a complicated issue, but not necessarily a controversial one—everyone wants it. Consumers don’t want pathogens in their food; and neither do the farmers, corporations, retailers and restaurants that grow and sell that food. Yet there are some 76 million cases of food-related illness in the United States each year, racking up, according to one recent study, an estimated $152 billion in health-care costs, and killing at least 5,000 people. Outbreaks of food poisoning hit the headlines so often that in our online poll last October, nearly 90 percent of you said you worry about food safety.

Is there any good news?

Well, according to FDA Commissioner Margaret Hamburg, “big change is possible” right now, as consumers and industry have begun to agree on reforms, and the Obama administration has made the issue a priority. She hopes to soon see the first significant update to the country’s food safety laws since the 1930s. The Food Safety Enhancement Act was passed by the House last summer, and a similar bill is now on the Senate’s plate, though it seems to have been pushed aside by the health care reform debate.

Among other things, this legislation would give the FDA the power to order mandatory recalls of contaminated products—a power that many people assume the agency already has, when in fact the agency can only request that companies issue such recalls voluntarily.

And then, of course, there’s the issue of funding. Monitoring and enforcing safety has become increasingly expensive as the food system has grown more globalized, and government inspectors can’t afford to be everywhere at once. Hamburg was blunt about this, ending her optimistic speech with a caveat: “In order to do this, we will need adequate resources. And it’s a sad truth that over the years, we have not had those.”

The money problem could be eased in part by a provision in the new legislation allowing the FDA to charge a $500 annual registration fee to each food facility under its purview. As the Atlantic’s Sara Rubin noted in her own summary of the event, that pill isn’t too difficult to swallow for most corporations, but it could cause very small businesses to choke.

Hamburg also emphasized the idea of a “farm to table” approach to preventing food-related illness, holding everyone from the grower to the consumer accountable: “Everyone who touches food shares responsibility for its safety,” she said.

As if on cue, this morning’s newspaper added another loud note to the chorus of evidence that this problem is not going away on its own: salmonella in a ubiquitous flavor-enhancing product prompted what is expected to be one of the biggest food recalls in the nation’s history.

Nutrition label, courtesy of Flickr user teamperks

If you’re like one of my college roommates, who would probably eat tar if it was labeled “low-carb,” you might want to think again before you grab a product based on what it says on the box.

Today, as the Washington Post reported, the Food and Drug Administration sent letters to 17 food producers because the companies were touting health benefits on their products that were misleading, contrary to FDA guidelines, or simply not true.

The FDA gave companies 15 days to come up with a plan to correct the labels or face possible consequences, such as suspension of their product.

Some products on the list include:

• Diamond Food, Inc.’s Diamond of California Shelled Walnuts, whose label claims the Omega-3 fatty acids found in walnuts can fight mental illnesses, lower cholesterol and protect against some heart diseases and cancers; and Pom Inc.’s POM Wonderful 100% Pomegranate Juice, which claims to lower hypertension and reduce or prevent certain kinds of cancers and diseases. The FDA says such health claims are reserved for drugs.

• Nestle’s Juicy Juice Brain Development Fruit Juice Beverage (Apple), which claims it “helps support brain development in children under two years old”—another statement the FDA says only drug companies can make.

• Nestle’s Juicy Juice All-Natural 100% Juice Orange Tangerine, and Juicy Juice All-Natural 100% Juice Grape, whose labels imply the products are 100% real juice, the FDA says, when neither pure orange tangerine nor pure grape juice are the products’ main ingredients.

• Ken’s Foods Inc. for their “Healthy Options” salad dressings, which the FDA says must be “low fat” (3 grams of fat for 50 grams of food) in order to have a “healthy” label. The Healthy Options Parmesan & Peppercorn dressing, which has 6 g of fat per 30 grams of food; the Sweet Vidalia Onion Vinaigrette, which has 4 grams of fat per 30 grams of food; and the
  Raspberry Walnut Dressing, which contains 3 grams of fat per 30 g of food, all violate this rule.

• Gorton’s Fish Fillets and Mrs. Smith’s Coconut Custard pie are both labeled as “0 trans fat” but do not disclose that there are high amounts of regular and saturated fat, as the FDA requires.

Some companies have plans to change the labels, but POM Inc. plans to challenge the FDA, according to the Post.

The recent campaign is one of the largest by the FDA in at least a decade, according to the Center for Science in Public Interest (CSPI), though last May the FDA also targeted General Mills for its labeling of Cheerios, which were claimed to lower cholesterol and heart disease.

Just a few months before the FDA’s campaign, CSPI released its own report on food labeling and sent it to the FDA. The report targeted health claims, which were the focus of the new FDA campaign, but CSPI has also asked the FDA to increase its requirements for food labeling (pdf). This would include adding the label “high” and highlighting in red ink certain ingredients—added sugars, trans fat, saturated fat, cholesterol or sodium—if they accounted for 20 percent or more of the recommended daily allowance. The CSPI also urged the FDA to require companies to disclose what percentage of a products’ grains are whole grains and how much caffeine is in the product, as well as other changes that they claim would make food labels easier to read (and understand).

There are probably plenty more food makers out there who aren’t being completely honest about their products. Until the FDA can get all of them to clean up their labeling, I think I’ll follow advice my great-grandmother once gave me (about food and life) when grocery shopping: If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.

Trinidad Vineyards in Chile, courtesy of Flickr user Dear Garou

On Saturday, one of the strongest earthquakes in recorded history struck Chile, killing more than 700 people and destroying the homes and livelihoods of many more. In addition to donating to relief organizations, another way to help some are suggesting is to buy Chilean products, including wine, one of its biggest exports.

Chile is the world’s fifth-largest exporter of wine (after France, Italy, Spain and Australia), and its wine industry has been badly affected by the 8.8 quake. Damage is still being assessed, and it’s too early to know what the extent of the long-term impact on the wine industry will be. But James Molesworth, an editor for Wine Spectator magazine, has been tweeting reports from wineries in the quake zone, and early indications are that many have lost inventory, buildings, or both (but, thankfully, so far, no loss of life among employees has been reported). One witness described the smell of wine along the roads in front of wineries.

Power outages, road closures and general upheaval will further complicate this season’s harvest, which, since it is late summer in the southern hemisphere, was scheduled to begin soon. As Eric Asimov writes on the New York Times wine blog The Pour, even if the grapes can be harvested, wineries that have sustained damage may not have the necessary resources to produce wine.

Even before the earthquake, Chilean winemakers were having a bad year. As the Los Angeles Times reported just two weeks ago, the wine industry there has been suffering the effects of the global economic crisis. Although foreigners have been drinking more Chilean wine than ever, they have been shifting to cheaper wines just as Chilean producers were trying to make inroads into the fine wine category.

Chile, which has a topography and climate similar to California’s in many ways, has been producing wine for more than 500 years. Only since the end of the dictatorship of Augusto Pinochet in the late 1980s, though, has Chile become a force in the international wine trade, establishing a reputation for good-quality, affordable wines.

Of course, climate and topography are not the only similarities between Chile and California—both are prone to earthquakes. Although the famous wine regions of Napa and Sonoma counties mostly escaped damage from the 7.1 Loma Prieta earthquake of 1989, the lesser-known wineries in the Santa Cruz mountains, close to the epicenter, were not so fortunate; many buildings and inventories were lost. Silver Mountain Winery was completely destroyed, but within five years had rebuilt and was back on its feet.

Here’s hoping that the Chilean wineries, and the country as a whole, are able to do the same.

Grading samples of maple syrup, courtesy Flickr user Glass_House

It’s hard to predict exact dates for maple sugaring season because, as this farmer explains, it all depends on the weather. March usually casts the strongest spell, a combination of warm spring days and still-freezing nights that wakes up the sap in sugar maples while keeping their buds in bed.

Weather also influences the sugar content of the sap, which affects the amount and color of the final product. Syrup is classified by letter grades—A, B, and C, with several subcategories in between—from lightest to darkest. The lightest, “grade A fancy,” tends to fetch the highest prices, but they’re all good.

So good, in fact, that although I set out to write only a “five ways to eat” post, I’ve decided to give you an entire alphabet of maple recipe ideas! (Humor me. I’m from Vermont; maple madness is endemic.)

A: Asparagus with maple-tahini dressing.

B: Braised Brussels sprouts in maple-mustard glaze.

C:  Caramel corn, maple-style. Or cupcakes frosted with maple-cream cheese.

D. Maple-roasted duck, with cherry compote.

E. Even eggnog tastes better with maple.

F. Fish, as in maple-glazed salmon or pan-seared maple trout.

G. Ginger-maple cocktail. (Or ginger-maple anything, really.)

H. Hot wings with maple-chipotle sauce. Sweet plus spicy = mmm.

I.  If you can’t get sugar on snow (see “S”), maple ice cream is the next best thing. (Which is kind of like saying you should “settle” for a date with Hugh Jackman if George Clooney is unavailable.)

J. Jicama salad with chicory, pecans and maple dressing.

K. Kabocha squash and celery root soup with maple syrup and brown butter.

L. Legumes. Baked beans get all the glory, but lentils also work well with maple.

M. Maple mashes. As in mashed squash, rutabaga, or sweet potatoes and bourbon.

N. Nuts, candy-coated.

O. Oatmeal with maple syrup and cream was my favorite pre-skiing breakfast as a kid. Oats and maple also pair nicely in scones, cookies or even beer.

P. Pomegranate pancakes! Or pork. Maple-dijon glazed ham, maple-marinated pork roulade, maple pork chops—go whole hog, and top it off with a maple-bacon cupcake.

Q. Quince, poached and then baked with maple syrup, cloves and anise.

R. Rhubarb desserts, like apple-rhubarb crumble or maple rhubarb pie.

S. Sugar on Snow. I’ve already raved about the fabulous candy that forms when heat-thickened maple syrup meets a cold dish of snow (or crushed ice, if you’re nervous about eating snow).

T. Turnips, roasted with maple and cardamom.

U. Upside-down cake with pears and maple syrup.

V. Maple vinaigrette tossed with baby spinach, candied pecans and blue cheese crumbles makes an easy, yet elegant salad.

W. Well, waffles with syrup, obviously. Runner-up: Maple wine.

X. Um…. Xanthan gum in gluten-free pancakes, maybe?

Y. Yams with maple syrup and pecans.

Z. Zucchini, sauteed with a splash of syrup, or baked into maple zucchini bread.

Coconut shrimp, courtesy of Flickr user allikazoo

The coconut has long been a staple of cuisine in tropical places. As the trend toward Eastern flavors picks up here in the States, coconut has shown up in many flavor forecast lists for 2010.

The coconut is one of the most useful plants in the world. Some cultures use almost every part of the tree from the leaves to the water inside of the coconut fruit. In fact, the water is sterile, and was used as a intravenous solution in a pinch during World War II. The flesh of the coconut fruit, the fluid inside the coconut, coconut milk (made of liquid squeezed from the coconut flesh) and even the root of the palm, known as hearts of palm, are all eaten. Here are a few ways to enjoy the different parts of the coconut:

1. Batter: Think coconut-breaded shrimp. Use flakes of coconut flesh to coat shrimp and bake or fry. You can also coat other seafood, like tilapia, or try chicken with dried coconut flakes.

2. Salad: Hearts of palm are harvested from the root of a palm tree. Doing this kills the entire tree, so a salad made with the root was once called a “millionaire’s salad.” Today, rather than using coconut palms or other varities, most heart of palm comes from the peach palm—the only palm varietal not to die after its root has been harvested. Hearts of palm have a subtle flavor similar to asparagus or artichoke. Paula Deen has a recipe for a salad with spinach, strawberry and hearts of palm that I can’t wait to try.

3. Curry: Coconut milk is the base for many Thai curries. I make a creamy red curry using red curry paste, a can of coconut milk, chicken and sweet potato. For more information, and some actual recipes, Serious Eats as a nice breakdown of curry type with recipes.

4. Substitute for dairy: While I don’t keep kosher, recipes using coconut milk instead of dairy milk to follow kosher laws are intriguing. Take this Sweet Potato Coconut Crumble from Gourmet Kosher Cooking or these coconut milk scalloped potatoes. Coconut milk can also serve as the base of non-dairy ice creams for those lactose intolerant ice cream lovers. Grist recently reviewed non-dairy ice cream options, and the coconut milk varieties won.

5. Piña Colada: Some snow from the great snow storm of 2010 is still lingering on the ground here in D.C., but it’s already March and spring will be here soon. When it starts to warm up, fix yourself a piña colada and pretend you’re on a tropical beach somewhere. This popular cocktail is made from rum, pineapple juice and cream of coconut, which is derived from coconut milk.