a tender harvest

The arugula and red lettuces have stretched out their delicate leaves as this dry spring makes its way toward summer. It is the time of simple salads—lemony oil or balsamic vinaigrette, creamy avocado, cucumbers. The days are long and I watch the light filter into different rooms at different times. There is much work to be done: there are weeds to pull, mulch to spread, and annuals to purchase and pot. But in a season of busyness my body slows down and requires me to do the same. It grants all its energy to nurturing the little one, its fragile project. With God’s good grace, he will arrive sometime between the peas and the green beans, just in time to welcome summer.

fresh feasts

We have enjoyed some delicious food moments this summer, with family, and with friends. As promised, here are some snapshots:

My brother-in-law and his wife drove out from Illinois, by way of Maryland. They came bearing Amish eggs from just a couple hours north. We wasted no time and enjoyed them for breakfast. With bacon, of course.

The Sunday farmers market is just three blocks up the street! In South Arlington it's a little more relaxed than the hyper-foodie version in the northern part of town. I enjoy the relaxed rhythm of walking over each Sunday.

I visited my friend's mother out in a more rural part of the Virginia suburbs. She has a blueberry patch, and the pickin' was good! I took about ten pictures of the blueberries; I'll spare you and just include this one.

Though I might be satisfied just watching plants grow, it is nice when they do produce something edible. This is one of the earlier bean and cherry tomato harvests, ready to be shared with a friend. And I lied ... the blueberries found their way into this picture, too.

Plated salads, ready for a dinner party. Featuring arugula and basil from the garden. The red pepper is probably from Mexico. I made peace with that.

With help from the nearby Thai market, we attempted spring rolls with some shrimp and home-grown basil. Success!

The dining room table served as the beverage bar for our open house.

Happy Independence Day!

season of salads

The harvest has begun. The arugula came up first and fastest, so I've been blending it with lettuces from the farmer's market. There isn't much else that is ready (unless you count mint, of course), but I've made more than a few salads with simple vinaigrette. Today marked the first garden give-away, as I pressed a friend to take away some of the arugula.

visit from a foodie friend

Sometimes Saturday is like stepping out of time. It’s not a day of rest, like Sunday; it’s a day to get things done, but not the things you would normally do. And sometimes it’s a day to see your city all over again, or explore a new neighborhood, or leave altogether. Last weekend my dear friend Michelle came to see another lighted city, its monuments, and our life here. And to make ricotta blintzes with blueberry sauce.

sriracha and sushi

We had a few colleagues over for homemade sushi and dumplings last weekend. Here are a few shots of the assembly and service:

  The table set with chopsticks from China! 

(Everything else from Target, IKEA, and Crate & Barrel.)

 Two takes on the veggie roll: one with sriracha, one without. 

Avocado, cucumber, carrot, and sprouts.

 The in-house attorney patiently places sushi rice on nori ... 

good thing he's not charging by the hour!

Trader Joe's smoked salmon and a roll ready to be sliced.

A smoked salmon roll ... ready to be rolled.

 Sesame seeds added a key flavor profile.

 The buffet, after feasting.

These purplish dumplings owe their hue to red cabbage 

and my spontaneity.

peace and pasta

For Christmas, Wes gave me the pasta maker attachments for our KitchenAid. I was so excited to tell Katie about our new project, but she warned me: “Don’t try to make pasta together … it will lead to a fight!” She gave examples from her own experience and a mutual friend’s. (You know who you are.)

But her warning came too late. We mixed, rolled, and cut homemade pasta last week – in peace. I think the difference might be having a husband content to be an attentive sous-chef. And a sous-chef who’s willing to do the frustrating tasks: painstakingly separating the drying strands, cleaning the rollers, and listening to my chatter (“Katie said it’s okay to use a lot of flour” … “Hmmm, I’m pretty sure this needs more water” … “I think we should try this with semolina flour” … “No, the instructions say …” and on and on).

There are downsides to the sous-chef model of kitchen harmony—we don’t have nearly as many interesting meals as my friends with cooking partners, and it’s lonely sometimes grocery-shopping by myself—but it works for us. The fettuccine was our first meal of 2011!

giving thanks

We hosted our first family holiday feast last week. This included our first turkey, which was successful thanks to an overnight brine. Smoky picture below.

My sister arrived early, bearing coffee, cheese, and chocolates. I documented them right away! Her husband is a barista at Princeton's famous Small World coffeeshop and supplied the fresh-roasted beans.

Some shots of our fine feast and the Thanksgiving spread (two folding tables pushed together, with Mom's tablecloth and some borrowed chairs).

vibrant virginia

Last weekend, I embarked on a fall food foray in and around Charlottesville with my friend Emily—a native of Richmond, a gracious hostess, and one of my foodiest friends. I arrived in Richmond Friday afternoon and explored the eclectic shops in its Carytown neighborhood. I finally went into a Penzeys Spices, procuring some needed seeds (sesame, poppy, caraway, fennel) for winter baking. I found some Christmas gifts at Ten Thousand Villages and chatted with the owner of the independent design store Ruth & Ollie. I braved a cat paradise disguised as a bookstore and perused the quirky inventory at Mongrel before returning to Ellwood Thompson’s for a warming bowl of soup.

Emily and I started our weekend with spicy dumplings and the Bombay roll at Osaka. Saturday morning we loaded her car with provisions (veggies, homemade hummus) and drove to Carter Mountain Orchard, just outside Charlottesville. This place definitely deserves to have “mountain” in its name; the ridge along the top had spectacular views. We did some minor hiking to get our apple harvest: Fujis, Winesaps, and Pink Ladies. We also enjoyed cider doughnuts … yum.

After the orchard we drove into Charlottesville—definitely a foodie town. We stopped by Feast and Albemarle Baking Co. to pick up cheeses, sausages, and bread for our picnic at Pollak Vineyards. Feast had some great local cheese offerings; I could have spent several hours looking around. At Pollak we sampled seven or eight wines (who’s counting …) and enjoyed a little Viognier with our lunch.

After the luncheon feast we headed back into Charlottesville and explored the downtown pedestrian mall. The chocolate sorbet at Splendora’s definitely lived up to Emily’s recommendation, and it paired well with pear. We finished the day with Emily’s nourishing butternut squash and potato soup. I’m looking forward to returning to Charlottesville and seeing more of the downtown and campus.

fall fresh

Fall feast for one: fried green tomatoes (rescued before I ripped up the stringy plants) and a CSA yam.

All cleaned up for hibernation. At least they're unlikely to freeze and crack here.

I spotted this white pumpkin at Ellwood Thompson's, a food co-op in Richmond. Both the pumpkin and mum are Virginia-grown.

tomato update

The tomatoes are starting to peek pink and roll in. I've got my first pickings in a paper bag on the counter.

Here's a shot my brother took while visiting the garden about 10 days ago. It's great to have him in the States for a little while, though he's complained about the heat quite a bit. We all enjoyed grilled squash on a Saturday evening -- talk about fresh!

And here's my CSA display (minus the bananas): vine ripe tomatoes (they're a little ahead of mine, obviously), cherry tomatoes (which my brother devoured), and white nectarines. I love getting fruit as part of my share.

Oh ... and there's basil there, too. I think I'll make a batch of mozzarella this weekend!

bounty

A friend volunteered to negotiate with scratchy leaves for the first big squash and zucchini harvest! We'll try to get them smaller next time ...

A yellow squash plays hide-and-seek.

The first cucumber sighting!

Tomatoes are around the corner ...

a backyard bequest

Here’s another great garden story … it’s really the beginning of one. My former colleague, John, is traveling in the Middle East this summer. Last summer he shared some homegrown tomatoes and jalapeno peppers and through the winter we talked about gardening and Wendell Berry and other classic crunchy-con topics. Like where to find raw milk (I have not tried it yet) and how gardening can prompt meditation.

When John was planning his journey, I offered to help tend his backyard garden while he was away. He asked for my input on how to organize the rows and what to plant. He put in tomatoes, squash, cucumbers, lettuces, beans, and some herbs. Then he went away. Free spirit that he is, he’s not planning on returning to the area, and his roommate is more than willing to let me continue gardening. And so, the backyard bequest. I’m delighted, intimidated, hopeful … and grateful to avoid the 3-year waiting list for a community garden plot.

So here’s an inaugural picture. As you can see, everything is well underway, especially the grass! I’m not sure what you’re doing on Friday, but I’ll be weeding.

snow soup

Okay, so I ate two thirds of it before taking the picture. And it looks oddly like ricotta. But I have to celebrate record-breaking snowfalls in the D.C. area somehow!

This treat goes by many names – the Washington Post had this article on “snow cream” – but in my family it’s always been called “snow soup.” I make my snow soup the same way my family has made it for generations (yes, hyperbolic): a splash of milk or half & half and a generous drizzle of real maple syrup. Syrup drizzling requires significant restraint or the snow soup quickly becomes an expensive endeavor. Bon appétit!

food news of late

• We have joined a CSA! It is run by chefs in Alexandria. I have wanted to do this for a couple years but our summer locations were always a bit uncertain. I know we’ll be here all year, and I’m looking forward to the program, which offers 38 weeks of produce. What will we get the first week of March? I’ll let you know.

• Over Saturday morning tea recently, Katie and I discussed bread baking and the sheet-pan-letting-off-steam method. She and her husband are (admirably) working their way through The Bread Baker’s Apprentice. I’m a loyal bread machine user and a little intimidated by actually making bread from scratch, but it’s a definite goal. For now I’m continually inspired by Beth Hensperger’s The Bread Lover's Bread Machine Cookbook. It was a wedding gift from another foodie friend, Emily Z. Le pain du jour is Hungarian white bread with fennel seeds.

• I’m currently reading Bringing It to the Table: On Farming and Food, a collection of essays by Wendell Berry and edited by Michael Pollan. Usually I go for straight-up food/cooking memoirs, but Berry’s descriptions of family farms and farming techniques is accessible and delightful. Definitely more trowel than tractor.

• Why did a post about food turn into a post about books? Theories are welcome.

trowels vs. tractors

Like the yuppies and dinks around us, we are centrally located between the farm fields of Virginia and the Farm Bill halls of power. We enjoy a Whole Foods and a year-round farmers market. But my interest in healthy food and how it is produced solidified during three years in Iowa City – one of the centers of Iowa’s local-food movement and adjacent to some massive corn fields. Now, I can’t claim to know many farmers -- though I did enjoy Galen’s lamb occasionally -- but I think processing the food movement (pun intended) while living in Iowa prompted some helpful questions about utopian farming and food systems. Also, my husband loves Oreos and being a devil’s advocate.

There’s more to consider and write about on this topic: the responsibility of Christians to steward the earth – and feed the poor; the unintended elitism of much of the locavore/foodie movement; and society’s construction of food mores with a kind of religious fervor.

For now, consider this article recommended by Mark Bittman on “The Facts about Food and Farming.” Maybe we have room for trowels and tractors.

best drawer ever

I definitely feel more inspired!

princeton

Last weekend I visited my sister in Princeton, where she is at seminary. My dad drove down from New England and we enjoyed a relaxing tour of Princeton-in-the-fall. She took us to the local orchard, the coffee shop, the bakery. The best place of all was her top-floor apartment -- with nine dormer windows, found furniture, quirky wall hangings, and mismatched mugs.

Being in Princeton reminded me how much I love seeing new places, especially when they are meaningful to a good friend or family member. Princeton was stunning--the leaves turning gold and crinkling and wise, solid trees lining every path and standing sentry to every building. I'll go back again, and I'll imagine it is always fall there.

edible blackberries—the kind that don’t ring

Last weekend we wandered outside the Beltway and camped in Shenandoah National Park, less than two hours from our high-rise. After a seven-year sojourn in the Midwest, the joy in being so close to the mountains and the ocean is never lost on me.

Lil’ Blue (the Civic) merged onto Skyline Drive and my BlackBerry promptly lost service. I could not have been more delighted. Like all wannabe-campers, we purchased firewood, pitched our tent 15 feet from our vehicle, and applied bug spray. We had two coolers of junk food and only one immediate concern: kindling for the campfire. The Eagle Scout tromped into the woods wielding his beloved hatchet (and boot knife, and Swiss Army knife) and I picked up a few twigs.

Then I spotted them. The real blackberries. The ones you can eat. I picked just a few (I swear!) and heard a rustling down the hill. A buck was enjoying some berries, too. In another wannabe-camper moment, I delighted in the fact that so shortly after leaving the office I was already communing with nature. The hot dogs and beers weren’t bad, either.

Update: The “Stuff White People Like” blog’s most recent post makes fun of how we camp.