Planting Cabbages

t-pins, zap-it, and kitchen bouquet led me to be a novelist

in shifting towards a new nip (novel-in-progress) the connection between city of ladies and a hundred years of becasse is still france, and the village, ceres. but at a different time in history.

the sense of time and place in this hypothetical 16^th century village in the novel, city of ladies, was one of the novel’s driving forces. afterwards i fretted, would i ever find another compelling “place?” of course it’s more than that. i had to recoup. gather up and search again. review past works and try them on again. sit with them. it has really taken me the better part of two months (and sailing through a project on the dutch carribean) to reset my writing brain.

i am happy to report i have found an intriguing locale – different and changed. the village of ceres vaulted ahead to contemporary times. as it existed in the now, and what the past left behind for us to discover. don’t you fret either, this is quite a determined and different contemporary story and cast of characters.

what remains unchanged and one of my greatest joys and fervent hopes to mentor young chefs; in learning techniques, yes, and championing cooking – but more - what being connected to the kitchen can mean. empowering them to pass this intangible to their diners, their family and their friends.   

for this old/new companion story there has been some early writing, doubt snagging, and the old character dropping. at this stage of the game anything is possible. if i have learned anything – and i can still hear my friend dawn whispering this years ago, outline.

 

yes, dawn - i won’t be in the rush to write 500 pages, only to be whittled and pared.  

so in the new joy of research one thing is certain - things have changed drastically since i was last worked on the threads of this food stylist story.

for one thing before there was not the web.

before, there was la telephone. 

whereas now, behold google.

but in mulling over and rereading this companion story i was taken back to a time when i didn’t know my culinary personality.

an earlier version of irena chalmer’s book was my bible as i considered many fo-pressions (food professions) when i graduated from the cia. 

then, as now i am renewed - i was enthralled to discover a “new” culinary field.

for a thyme the food stylist’s tweezers fit in my hand quite comfortably.  

it all began with a week long class in food styling up at my alma mater, cia. just the other day (the day i was going to post this and my laptop was hijacked by a malware virus and spybot for ten gruesome hours while a skilled technician “took over” the controls to restore my files – a huge thanks to dell!!!)   

google found my mentor, delores custer, and this interview about the field.  

after that and back in nc i “staged” with janet grennes who helped me tremendously. i really enjoyed working with her. the conflicts came up when i realized; ok, i can do this. but do i want to? but before all wrenching analysis began - we did some crazy shoots.

pasta infomercial assignment.

shoots with house autry breading mix.

“new” line of burger shoots with hardee’s.

over at ragazzi’s. a commercial.

north carolina’s taste full magazine.

 

 (spring 1995 issue of taste full magazine with janet’s article on sunday brunch and mine on spring lamb.)

on my own i worked as the producer and props stylist for the tar heel chef’s show.(i would tell you about steve dominick, chef/owner of the then new orleans cookery in chapel hill who appeared on the show days before he left town and all his bills. but then that would be put an end to this sharing.)

then came a couple of honey baked ham shoots.

followed by an off the wall assignment to do recipe cards from neelix’s kitchen on the voyager star trek series for a durham trading card company.

how long did they look for someone willing to do this?

these were (are) not the deeply rooted classic french dishes i loved, and loved to teach. but it certainly made me consider what kind of food would they have in space? would such a crew want comfort and memory? brings up a whole range of notions, doesn’t it? what kind of food would you want while orbiting the galaxy? it all depends, doesn’t it?

 

klingon gahg

serves 4 generously (thank goodness, right?)

1 pound browned and drained country sausage

1 1/2 cups seasoned tomato or pasta sauce

1 1/2 cups canned diced tomatoes

1 cup jumbo japanese udon noodles, cooked 1 minute

combine tomato sauce with diced tomatoes in medium saucepot over medium heat, when hot remove from heat, add sausage and noodles.

arrange carefully.

takar loggerhead eggs with asparagus chili sauce

the idea for the appearance of these eggs comes from a classic chinese dish where you use the same technique of lightly cracking the eggs and steeping them in tea. this could have all kinds of lovely results if you vary the flavoring liquid. for the sake of the photo the flavor isn’t important – but instead they wanted something that would be wild and colorful.

serves 12 egg lovers

1 dozen hard boiled eggs in shell, gently rolled to crack slightly and colored in

6-8 liquid or paste food colors dissolved in water

1 bunch italian (flat leaf) parsley, chopped coarsely

1 head boston lettuce, leaves separated

1/4 cup chopped hot banana peppers (yellow and red, if possible)

asparagus sauce: puree 1 cup cooked asparagus with 1 teaspoon garlic chili paste

peel 11 of the colored eggs and arrange on lettuce on individual plates or one large platter. slice one egg in half crosswise to use as a container for sauce, garnish with chopped pickled red and yellow peppers.

laurelian blue pudding

this one was actually pretty and good

serves 6

1 cup pearl tapioca soaked for 30 minutes in 4 cups grape or raspberry juice in large pot

2 cups fresh blueberries

2 cups granulated sugar

1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom

add blueberries, sugar, and spice to soaked tapioca pearls.  bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring well till thick, about 10 minutes.  remove from heat and serve warm.

proteinaceous coffee cocktail

makes 1 1/4 cup

down as an outrageous breakfast “slurp” over waffles or pancakes. makes a unique dessert sauce spooned over cake or ice cream.

1 cup brewed french roast coffee, cooled

3 tablespoons cornstarch

3 tablespoons honey or maple syrup

1 teaspoon each vanilla and chocolate syrup

combine ingredients in a 2 cup microwaveable glass bowl or cup, cook on high power for 2 minutes, stirring well at the 1 minute mark.

spinach shake with pear

serves 5

1 bunch fresh spinach, cooked 1 minute in boiling water

2 tablespoons frozen o.j. concentrate

1/4 cup pear juice

2 16 ounce cans drained pear halves, reserve juice

1 teaspoon almond extract

in a blender or food processor puree the pear halves with almond extract, pour in bottom of 5 wine glasses. puree spinach with o.j. concentrate and drained pear juice, spoon on top of pear puree. for a two-tone effect.

vulcan plomeek soup

as if you didn’t know the personality of plomeek soup is that once made, it begins to slowly disappear.

serves 4

4 cups chicken or vegetable stock

small handful each dried oriental vegetable (radish leaves, sweet potato and taro stems, black fungus, and fernbrake)

2 pieces dried kelp

1/2 teaspoon each curry powder and tumeric

2 teaspoon sesame oil

bring the stock to a boil in a large soup pot over high heat , add the seasonings, sesame oil, dried vegetables, and kelp.  return to a boil, then simmer for 10 minutes.  serve immediately.

food styling still fascinates me. the lights, the cameras, the life.

 

re-entering the field emphasizes and considers the question, what has changed?

 

even the process of researching and writing about food styling reminds me what drove me to france.

 

a search for the old ways.

 

here is a new season of food stylists who have created marvelous  feasts for:

hook.

harry potter.

chocolat.

worlds you know don’t exist but that you want to believe in.

(please write and tell me which ones i have missed!)

i don’t have the skillset to excell with food styling. i admire those who do. 

so you see the conflict.

my task, as i see it, is to observe the process, the conflicts, and capture that in the frame of the camera (or the scene in this case since it’s a written work.)

and the amazing interesting times in which we live.

 

blog by marilinda hodgdon on her life as a food floozie (stylist)

monthly assignments to learn the art of food styling at home

and posts from the 2009 food stylists conference.

london journalist on food stylist christine greaves’ work with juliette binoche on chocolat

agency which represents christine greaves and other well-known food stylists

 

food in film, london website (also food in literature, music, and in art) who offered a salon on the topic.

"in london, tim foster, writer and director of silent sound films put together a panel of panellists: sami zubaida, reader in sociology at birkbeck; cathy greenhalgh, writer, film maker and senior lecturer in cinematography at lcp school of media; pat mire: writer, producer and director dirty rice; debbie brodie, food stylist on felicia's journey and hotel splendide; and clare ferguson, television commercials food stylist.

to discuss:

what is the metaphorical role of food in film? how can it be used to convey on one hand, the subtle expressions of social class and on another, the most explosive of passions? and what are the practical problems of cooking and presenting food for the camera? how can the arrangement and colour of food contribute to the story's atmosphere and emotional setting? this session is a must for catering and film students. props of film food will be on display.

then, more recently the ny times tells us how nora ephron created a ‘sole meniuere” epiphany for viewers much like julia’s legendary reaction to her first dish in france. susan spungen, food stylist of the 2009 movie, julie and julia.

and a bit more locally (she works out of atlanta but travels extensively) chef, food stylist, and author of the wonderful cookbook, bon appetit ya’ll  virginia willis also produces reality tv cooking shows and interviewed last week on health radio about her vcarious experiences and her now legendary post about the movie, julie and julia.

 

loreena mckennitt's haunting version of god rest ye merry gentlemen.

craving a bit more gaston leroux, we saw the phantom of the opera at dpac (durham performing arts center) how delightful!

new blog post! food styling then, and now.

one potato two

november 25^th

this is a perfect potato day. rich little eggs unburied from the earth.

for (4?) potatoes can be so many things.

fried little cakes with onions.

sweet raised buns with fat streusel crumbs.

salad with lump crabmeat.

sitting beneath a roasted italian sausage. or two.

and boiled - their red skins split.

insides fluffy steam with salt and butter and parsley. 

nana’s pennsylvania dutch potato filling

truth be told nana used to use dried parsley

5 pounds idaho potatoes

 

1 cup diced celery

 

1-1/2 cup diced onion

 

3/4 cup fresh parsley 

 

4 eggs

 

2 sticks (1 cup) butter

 

3 cups cubed bread

 

1-2 cups milk, or enough to moisten bread cubes

 

salt, pepper and celery salt

 

butter an 11 by 14 buttered baking dish and set aside

 

cook potatoes in salted water til tender.

 

heat a large skillet and add 2 tablespoons butter, when sizzling sauté

 

celery, onions, and parsley with a sprinkling of salt and pepper til tender

 

and slightly browned.

 

remove from pan and add melt 1/2 stick of butter. when hot add the

 

bread cubes and brown till nice and crispy. reduce heat to medium low if

 

necessary to keep from burning!

 

drain potatoes; return to cooking pot and add in the remaining 6

 

tablespoons butter. mix with wooden spoon vigorously. add eggs and milk

 

and mix thoroughly. add celery and onion mixture. add butter fried bread

 

cubes. more milk if necessary. celery salt, salt and pepper to taste. 

 

scoop into prepared baking dish and bake at 400° for 1 hour until golden

 

brown.

 

newfangled roasted garlic mashed potatoes – erick snover’s

makes enough for one to six folk

8 to 10 cloves garlic

2 pounds potatoes or other potatoes, cut up

1 cup heavy cream

1 tablespoon snipped fresh rosemary, thyme, or oregano

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon pepper

wrap unpeeled garlic cloves in foil. bake in a 400 degree f. oven for 25 to 35 minutes or until cloves feel soft when pressed. when cool enough to handle, squeeze garlic paste from peels.

meanwhile, heat the cream but do not let boil, with the rosemary, thyme, and oregano.

in a covered kettle cook potatoes in a small amount of boiling water for 20 to 25 minutes or until tender. drain; return to kettle. mash potatoes and garlic paste with a potato masher or an electric mixer on low speed.

add herbed cream; salt; and pepper. beat until light and fluffy.

like stones deserted, bread

each captivated the other- wheat and fields and sun and wood. grateful.

 

bread-sea  

carried on 

sacred tide 

washed ashore

salt grain rubs soft flesh to rough skin

the holes; rooms of sun

 

finding the sacred in food

bread of three rivers by sara mansfield

good bread is back. steven laurence kaplan

the taste of bread by raymond calvel

wild yeast bread blog

rough peppercorn and shallot bread twirls - thanksgiving time

making these bread twirls does involve mixing time, resting time, and oven time, in the kitchen.  but with an overnite sleep for the dough (and for you? but only the dough) in the refrigerator, the stretch of time this recipe takes can be broken into manageable chunks. i wrote this in the early nineties when i really believed that!

makes 8 large breadsticks

1 tablespoon active dry yeast

2 teaspoons honey or sugar

1 cup lukewarm water

1 teaspoon salt

3 1/2 -4 cups all purpose flour

2 tablespoons olive oil

1/2 cup chopped shallots

2 teaspoons mixed peppercorns, pink, red, and black - crushed

1 tablespoon coarse kosher salt or sea salt

combine yeast with 3 cups of the flour and salt. 

 

in a kitchen-aid type mixer with the dough hook attachment or the work bowl of a food processor fitted with the plastic blade add the warm water and olive oil. 

mix until the dough begins to form a ball.

 

then add the shallots and 1 teaspoon of the crushed peppercorns.

 

mix the remaining teaspoon peppercorns with the 1 tablespoon kosher or sea salt and set aside.  add another 1/2 to 1 cup flour to make a smooth, but not sticky, dough.

 

knead by hand for 10 minutes, or in the mixer for five minutes, or in the processor for 1 minute. 

 

remove the dough to an oiled bowl, cover with a floured cloth or an oiled piece of plastic wrap and place in the refrigerator for 6 to 12 hours.

remove the bowl from the refrigerator 2 hours before baking to allow the dough to come to room temperature.

after that time, divide the dough into 8 pieces and roll each into a 10 inch length, taking each end in hand, gently twist in the opposite direction 4-5 times.

 

roll each twist in about 1/2 teaspoon of the peppered salt.

 

then place each on an 11 x 14 inch baking sheet sprinkled generously with cornmeal.

 

they will untwist to some degree but they will retain an unusual shape when they bake. 

 

allow these to rest 30 minutes while preheating the oven to 400 degrees. pressing bake 20-25 minutes, turning the pan from front to back after 10 minutes of baking.

 

let cool briefly, serve with dinner or alone. 

snowball method of salt, delicious delusions, plus all saint's day

october 28^th - all saint’s day, nov 1, approacheth.

“salt day” in japan is january 11. but that is somewhat off-topic.

 

as i see it, my task is to distill research and serve a palatable, entertaining, balanced, and just-right-salted broth. 

 

or a snowball that hits you right between the eyes.

 

either is good.

 

it all comes down to an assignment and how to circle and yet at the zero

 

hour burst out of the office, my hair in dissarray

 

(ok, my hair is always in a quandry) shouting eureka!

 

 

todays blog is heavily under the

 

influence of salt and how it

 

permeates history, both in the

 

mediterranean and in the

 

caribbean.

 

now that i have nicely

 

procrastinated finishing up my

 

greenwood entry on the dutch caribbean i have to post this darn

 

montrosity and get back to work. if you don't mind. :)

 

so i warn you, follow this path of salt to find healing women, lore and

 

tales, and flamingoes in your wake.

 

and bien sur, at the end i hope to still your cravings and lure

 

you with salty unctuous bites of crunch and spice. 

 

we are salt. our blood, sweat, and our tears.

 

salt is not just a little shaker on your table. or a cellar of divine crystals

 

for your fingers to rub. though it does have connections with divinity. in

 

the beginning someone turned into a pillar of salt on a somewhat

 

unfortunate day in ancient lands.

are you a salt-eater?  

 

while researching bonaire and their history of salt farming i discovered

an interesting bit of information regarding caribbean lore about witches

and salt – and with our favorite (well, at least, my most favorite) holiday

upon us – halloween and all saint’s day – close at hand. well, here are

enough superstitions to whet your appetite. 

salty superstitions by rochelle moore in her book; aromatherapy &

 

herbalism

 

~ for every grain of salt that spills accidentally a single tear shall be shed

 

unless you scatter a pinch over your left shoulder

~ tossing a pinch of spilt salt is the antidote of ill luck raised

~ if you have a curse or hex on you by a gypsy then once they leave your

 

home throw a pinch of salt in their direction to nullify the curse

 

~never offer another diner a salt cellar that is open ....help me to salt,

 

help me to sorrow

~you can tell a girl is a virgin if she forgets to put salt onto the table

oh gosh, now i am in trouble.

in mark kurlansky’s book of salt he regales us with stories of salt’s

 

history, importance, even how it was used as currency. and what impact

 

procuring, trading, finding and harvesting salt has had on the world.

 

piqued, i picked up diane ackerman’s nhots (a natural history of the

 

senses) again to see what she had to say about salt.

 

i didn’t start out craving salt.

 

as a young girl in reading, pa. i always preferred sweets.

 

not five minutes after nana pushed a nickel in my palm for digging up

 

weeds with a screwdriver, i was filling my paper bag at the corner store

 

with penny candy. mary janes, fireballs, necco wafers, and maybe

 

chocolate, but certainly black licorice twists. 

 

my sweet tooth has changed – lengthened – matured- okay i am older.

 

now i not only crave licorice, but salty licorice.

 

the bad news is after rereading ackerman's nhots i considered whether i

 

had addison’s disease. ackerman (who by now i was envisioning that she

 

was my friend because of this salty licorice thing we had going) mentions

 

that those who have the disease ~a deficiency of the adrenal glands~

 

crave salt and so crave eating and so self-medicating, by eating large

 

amounts of licorice which has glasorisic acid, which contributes to sodium

 

retention.

 

so, big deal. i love licorice. the salty kind that holland is famous for.

 

rather than seek medical attention i decided to research this, uh, grain of

 

salt.   

 

this dutch/salt connection lit my blog bright light.

 

pennsylvania dutch.

 

dutch caribbean.

 

licorice.

 

little girl.

 

salt.

 

trade.

 

slave stories.

 

salt poems.

 

and, women healers

 

brought me back to the gates of city of ladies.

 

to fulfill her quest, eleone, must cross the land

 

of salt in the camargue.

 

(believe randy ingermanson calls this the snowflake method of writing, i

 

just call it the snowball, you know when things just start rolling on their

 

own.)

 

the body seems to crave what it needs in order to heal.

 

from a review of the history of salt – mark kurlansky

the largest inland “lake of salt” in the camargue is the etang de vaccares.

the harvesting takes place in the summer, when the water is evaporating

from being flooded all winter long. the salt accumulates in these large

crystal piles of sea salt called camelles. salt is the prime “product” in the

camargue. despite the lovely pink flamingoes.

 

flamingoes who, as it turns out, also live and feed in bonaire's salt pans.

no, not the roasting pans.

ballad of canga brown by eric roach, in the flowering rock, 1955

what give canga brown that power?

he don’t eat no salt nor sugar,

his flesh like ibo yam

his blood clean, like clean rain water.

in the encyclopedia of the african

diaspora: origins, experiences, and

culture. edited by carole boyce

davies – she discusses the legend

of slaves sprinkling salt about so

the witch could not slip back into

his or her skin once they had

returned from a night of trouble

making.

no wonder, i wondered ~ why the slaves who harvested salt on bonaire might have felt a bit hampered by their environment. 

n’est c’est pas?

more salt lore of today’s discourse

 

 

“grimm remarks that salt is not found in witches' kitchens, or at devils'

 

feasts, because the roman catholic church has taken upon herself the

 

hallowing and dedication of this substance. moreover, inasmuch as

 

christians recognize salt as a wholesome and essential article of diet, it

 

seems plausible enough that they should regard it as unsuitable for the

 

use of devils and witches, two classes of beings with whom they have no

 

particular sympathy. hence perhaps the familiar saying that "the devil

 

loveth no salt in his meat."”

earl lovelace begins his novel “salt” with the tale of a “flying african with

two corncobs under his arms.” the belief was that salt impedes their spirit

and ties them down to the land.

but perhaps like meredith gadsby expounds in her book, "sucking salt":

caribbean women writers, migration and survival – salt had to be sucked

to survive. which sounds to me, at least at first glance, that women have

had to do just the opposite, walk the opposite direction from what they

are told to do. 

take the opposite path. walk through salt land to build a spirit; strong

and impenetrable.

 

fleur de sel camargue is used on the table, but bonaire salt is what we

 

commonly know as rock salt. it is not used for culinary purposes.

 

reading list for today:

 

earl lovelace – salt, 1997 

 

larissa lai - salt fish girl, 2002 

 

toni cade bambera – the salt eater’s 1980 fable-like tale addresses the

 

healing power of salt and one woman’s attempt to heal, both herself and

 

her town. langston hughes society award

 

edouard glissant – black salt, 1999 two decades of glissant’s poetry

 

nalo hopkinson – the salt roads 2004 – a veritable plethora of just about

 

all things fantastic and wise-funny.

 

lorna mcdaniel – the big drum ritual of carriecou: praisesong for rememory

 

of flight – culture bearers offer that salt can hinder flight. no salt tainted

 

offerings to ancestors, river and sea orisas.

 

diane ackerman  quotes from a natural history of the senses -

 

"salt cravers have saltier saliva."

 

"salt is the only rock we seem to enjoy, but that’s because we are small

 

marine environments on the move."

 

todays’ recipes

 

accras de morue

 

fritters of spices and salt cod, so delicious you’ll be transported to the

 

ancient streets of your choice. recipe from the now defunct gourmet

 

magazine but i have revised it to more resemble the hot little amuse

 

bouche sold in arles’ market. teresa and i would snack on a little bag of

 

these as we eavesdropped on ladies buying pigs ears. no, not pastries,

 

the real thing.

 

 

1/2 pound skinless boneless salt cod, cut into 2-inch pieces and rinsed

 

1 cup all-purpose flour

 

1/4 cup milk

 

1 large egg

 

3/4 teaspoon double-acting baking powder

 

2 garlic cloves, minced

 

½ tsp. each cumin and coriander seed, toasted and ground

 

1/4 teaspoon dried thyme, crumbled

 

a 4-inch-long fresh hot red or green chili, seeded and minced (wear rubber gloves)

 

3 scallions, chopped fine

 

vegetable oil for deep-frying

 

in a large bowl let the salt cod soak in enough cold water to cover it by 3

 

inches, changing the water several times, for at least 8 hours or

 

overnight. drain the salt cod well in a sieve and in a food processor purée

 

it. add the flour, the milk, the egg, the baking powder, the ground cumin,

 

coriander, thyme, and the garlic and blend the mixture well. transfer the

 

mixture to a bowl and stir in the chili and the scallions. in a deep fryer or

 

large deep skillet heat 1 1/2 inches of the oil to 360°f. on a deep-fat

 

thermometer and in it fry teaspoons of the mixture in batches, stirring

 

and turning them occasionally, for 1 to 2 minutes, or until they are golden

 

and cooked through. transfer the fritters as they are fried with a slotted

 

spoon to paper towels to drain. they are best served immediately and

 

warm. alternately the fritters may be made 2 days in advance, if you

 

persist in doing things ahead of time, after frying them, cover and chill

 

them sufficiently. reheat the fritters on a rack in a shallow roasting pan in

 

a preheated 450°f. oven for 5 minutes. no more!

 

 

fricot d’barques - the rhone "bark" pilots favorite dish - and mine too

 

a bark was a type of smallish barge that hauled goods and other necessary encumberances up (or down, i suppose) the rhone river.

i recently taught this dish at kitchenware outfitters in savannah, georgia.

 

huge merci to damon fowler. chef erick vedel’s recipe from arles differs

 

from the fricot d’barques recipe in clifford wright’s book a mediterranean

 

feast in that it contains lots of onions, capers, and bay leaves chopped

 

right in the mix. this inspired my version of quickly into the pot boneless

 

well-marbled beef chuck instead of taking an arlesian hour to thinly slice

 

the beef round.

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

 

2 pounds boneless beef chuck ribs

 

2 cups red wine, cote du rhone preferred

 

1 cup beef stock

 

1 pound onions, chopped

 

6 bay leaves, chopped

 

1 cup fresh parsley, chopped

 

3 tablespoons capers, chopped

 

1 tin anchovies, smashed

 

6 cloves garlic, minced 

for this recipe you will need a wide 3 qt. le creuset style pot, or baring

 

none something heavy bottomed, deep, and with a punctual well-fitting

 

lid.

chop your onions, bay leaves, parsley, and capers. mince your garlic.

 

smash your anchovies and combine with the onion mixture.

over medium high heat, heat the pan till hot. drizzle with the olive oil.

 

lay in your beef and sear well on both sides. remove to a platter and

 

deglaze the pan with the red wine. when reduced by half and the browned

 

bits have been scraped up, add in the beef stock, then onion mixture and

 

nestle in the beef again. bring to a boil over medium heat, then reduce

 

heat to very low and simmer for the better part of 3 hours, checking at

 

that point – you may need as much as an extra 45 minutes.

serve with crusty bread, boiled or mashed potatoes or one of chef vedel's

 

favorites, couscous.

warm autumn salad of caramelized cabbage and walnuts

follows a creamed gorgonzola pasta or a grilled pork rubbed

with smoked paprika and cumin.

 

alright, since its feasting season, perhaps cabbage can follow both.

 

our aracona hens, their feet clatcheting and scratcheting on the stone, race across the stretch of patio outside my window

 

to escape the plunk of acorns on their red combed heads and the only conclusion they can muster: the sky is falling.

 

from my writing desk inside the house i spy the edge of pumpkins and pots of sunset burgundy mums sitting on the steps of c’est si bon!

 

in this time of year i am drawn to think and thank.

 

bread, and food, for their sacred qualities offered in not only consuming them, but in preparing them.

 

in the garden my husband, rich, the ever plucky gardener of the cooking school has been hard at work replenishing the rows. The rows where tomatoes, peppers, butternut squash, and though he swore at the flea beetles that threatened otherwise, where eggplant grew.

 

fall has come to north carolina

 

 

now in those rows red swiss chard grows side by side with summer’s green chard. we don’t know why the green chard is still growing strong, but it is. southern collards, mustard and turnip greens. celery is a new thought (and vegetable!) in the cooking school garden.

 

in the rustic salad department there is burnett, mizuna, arugula (this arugula, like the green chard, is a stalwart contradiction. still growing from italian seeds brought from and planted four years ago) and the batavia lettuce seeds from provence.

 

and of course the garden would not be complete without cabbage, since planting cabbages is the notion upon which this blog was founded, this fall couer de boeuf des vertus is “a pre-1856, french bull-heart type cabbage with tall pointed green heads that are early and quite tender. a great market variety.”

 

 

if i could bend your ear (on that head of cabbage) for just a moment to explain how cabbage – this plain ordinary common budget minded vegetable – came to represent my blog about the research of writing, bread making, traveling, culinary history and cooking. oh, and gardening and teaching.

 

 

for one thing ~ cabbage has a lot of leaves.

 

and many ways to be prepared.

 

what is your favorite cabbage dish?

 

shredded and raw tossed with a pungent mustard vinaigrette.

 

in warmish salad as our dish du jour.

 

as a child, my husband, whose mother is polish, would make a dish from her childhood and for economies sake because with four children (she was compelled) to saute the blondegreen leaves in butter with onions and caraway seeds then toss with bowtie pasta. they loved it.

 

cabbage's long history includes being kindly fermented in various guises (sauerkraut and kimchi, what's not to love?)

 

then too the whole head can be blanched; leaves separated and stuffed with savory mushrooms and browned meats, garlic and served with a capered tomato sauce. i

 

and lastly i write in my new work-in-progress (the sequel to city of ladies) about a whole head of cabbage poached thusly as above.

 

but then its leaves are carefully and delicately peeled back, as far down to the heart as possible without tearing them, then stuffed, the leaves folded to cover the farci. cossetted in a gossamer cheesecloth, lowered and braised in rich chicken broth to be served a' table, carved as if a delectable roast beast.

 

but cabbage is my hero for yet another reason too. it seems a fairly long time ago now but when i read the essays of michel de montaigne one of quotes caught my eye.

 

“let death find me planting cabbages”

 

it struck a chord deep and so familiar.

 

for the meaning not only encumbered dirt and planting and cabbages.

 

that was heady enough, but to me was only the outer leaves.

 

the heart of his words meant that if you are working, i.e. planting, digging, rooting around then you were living life. and if death came scouting about looking for trouble (or me) well, it would have to tear me away from my work.

 

harvest time is upon us, whether for cabbages or work, and with it comes thoughts of past harvests and trips. one of those was to italy.

 

and here’s where we return to bread thoughts.

 

recently I learned about the history of bread cupboard traditions.

 

 

in parts of rural italy, bread cupboards figure into each family’s history.

anne robichaud, who lives near assisi and gives lectures and tours, 

talks about how she acquired her cupboard.

and since we are speaking about bread, planting cabbages, and new seasons and thanks and harvesting i must thank my dear friend, susan, a pastry chef and old world style baker extraordinaire who for years lived with the most marvelous antique parisian bakers rack made by the wrought iron makers "prefit et fils." I understand she acquired it in washington dc from a French man who had been hired by Disney to bake French breads. the first time rich and I went to have dinner with her and her husband i sat in adoration of it in their dining room. last summer she heard me speaking about looking for one.

a french colleague, francois, who deals in antiques and who has an apartment outside parisin st german en llaye said it would be hard (if not nigh impossible) to find one even in the paris flea market. Even if one could be found i should expect to pay a handsome sum. i believe he said ten thousand.

well, my ears (and my purse made of a sow’s ear) closed.

since then the idea of owning an authentic Parisian bakers rack had been lovingly cushioned in straw, the top of the wooden box nailed shut and placed in the dining car of the famed orient express, set off to wander exotic locales, tasting the most exquisite conversations and peeking out the window to look for home.  

and though I don’t know who else will come into its life, or how long it might remain, but for now i am happy to report the bakers rack happily welcomes you to c’est si bon!

 

dish du jour:

warm autumn salad of caramelized cabbage and walnuts

is sweet and nutty and superbly follows a creamed gorgonzola pasta or a grilled pork rubbed with smoked paprika and cumin.

 

 

as i said earlier ~ since its feasting season, perhaps both.

 

serves 8

 

3 cups shredded red or green cabbage, about 1 medium head

1 red onion, sliced thin

2 carrots

2 tart apples, such as terry winter or winesap

1 orange zested and juiced

4 tablespoons vinegar

1/2 cup olive oil

dijon mustard

salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

1/2 cup chopped walnuts

 

begin with the cabbage and onion, slicing thinly.

 

over medium heat in a heavy skillet, and without any oil whatsoever, toast the chopped walnuts till they are fragrant and lovely. remove to a small bowl to cool and set aside.

 

then, please add in the olive oil and when hot add the cabbage and onions and caramelize till a gorgeous nutty goldeness. this can take 30 minutes, not to rush. otherwise burning may occur and such nasty burning is not necessary.

 

while warm, place in a large shallow serving bowl.

 

peel, quarter, and core the apples, then slice thinly.

 

scrape or peel the carrots then shred either in the food processor or by hand with a box grater. add to the bowl with the warm cabbage and onions, add in the zest and juice of the orange.

 

make the dressing in a separate bowl. whisk the salt and freshly cracked black pepper into the vinegar. stream in the olive oil.

pour dressing over slaw and toss well. add the chopped walnuts, serve immediately.

 

 

poke weed, acorn, and mushroom foraging and the occasional pilfering

my character does what she has to in order to survive. and thus my

 

friends, my interest in wild foods was born. it peaked when researching

 

the likely sustenance to be found while on a walking journey in 16^th

 

century gascony, languedoc and provence in the colder months of

 

november and december.

 

 

the answer became, it depends.

 

on the weather.

on the year.

and on knowledge.

 

i was drawn to the gascon landscape when i first went in 1995. it struck me as familiar, perhaps as i had grown up in the rolling hills of pennsylvania dutch country.

 

gascony,for centuries it has been fertile provider of fruits such as pruneaux, apples, pears, even kiwi. cherries, peaches – the list goes on and on.

 

so it seemed like a good place to go for a walk in the fall, a pilgrimage, even if it wasn’t a leisurely stroll.

 

but if you can’t take off to peruse french fields or sit under a tree full of ripe figs – what to do?

 

with a little preplanned education and guidance both spring and fall wherever you are more than likely provides amble nourishing opportunity to scout about in the “wild” and obtain edibles. edibles that are satisfying to collect and relatively easy to prepare.

 

some years, even being a gardener is like foraging. 

 

surviving on wild food for a year is fergus in england. his last post was in september so we are anxiously waiting to see if he does…

 

the mother earth news is a long time stand-by go to magazine, commodity, and now web-site chock-full of advice by experts still out in the field and forests and seasides and slopes. many of my generation may fondly picture the naturalist, euell gibbons, chewing on sticks and brambles and who once upon a time did the grape nut commercials on tv. so it should come as no surprise that he is still around and kicking up the dirt and finding glorious edibles.

 

 

here is their take on a few common and not so comestibles that you might well find in your area.

 

we do indeed have poke weed (from which comes that poke sallat tribute in the song by) in spring, poke weed is surprisingly edible when it is young and tender. but do not pick (or eat) when it has gotten larger as it is toxic. there are perhaps farmers near you who sell it, and you might request to help pick it. another possibility if you are so industriously inclined is to pick it and sell it yourself. this apparently is popular in arkansa and missouri. but i think the main desire of foraging is to provide wild food for yourself and/or your family; however yu determine to define that.

 

even, yes, acorns after a bit of work are edible

 

mushrooms – the fungus amongus

 

duke mycology expert rytas vilgalys

 

join the mycological society of america

 

mushroom books

 

edible wild mushrooms of north america – a field to kitchen guide

by david w. fischer and alan e. bessette

 

the mushroom book – how to identify, gather, and cook wild mushroom and other fungi

 

by thomas laessoe, anna del conte, gary lincoff

 

this edition has nice hearty recipes from stuffed parasol caps, hedgehog bundles (in phyllo pastry), and baked mushroom polenta and even for truffles which if you should find some please write immediately so we can adequately discuss what to do. dorette at cest si bon dot net.

 

win a wild crafting contest and a prize of the book “survive” by les stroud the creator, producer, and host of the hit television program, survivorman.

 

"he transfers his decades of knowledge and experience to a practical guide that gives everyday readers a no-nonsense look at the real world of survival.”

 

carrboro nc local expert in gathering:

 

will’s wild herbs – over 34 years of experience and integrity.

 

will endres medicinal herbalist, wildcrafter, outdoor guide. consultations. hillsborough wild herb walk, 10/19, 5:30-7 pm, $15. wild edible/medicinal plant exploration seminars, 9-4:30 pm, every tuesday, near hillsborough, $30-$45. alternate saturdays at the durham and carrboro farmers’ markets. call will at 919.732.9785

 

 

further reading: in 2001, long before michael pollan’s the lomnivore’s dilemma – came gary paul nabhan’s book “coming home to eat.”

 

 

mr. nabhan's blog  

 

 

then come grains.

 

in france long ago foraging for emmer and eikorn, old varieties of wheat

 

but back to the table ~  

 

it’s the perfect time of year to start serving warm breakfast cakes.

 

i developed this semolina cake for breakfast in arles, inspired by erick vedel’s gateau de riz that he often would make for us, as he knew – just knew would lead to our swooning over it.

 

and as i was combing and studying a mediterranean feast by clifford a. wright. and found a recipe for asida – semolina porridge with warm orange blossom honey. teresa, i am sure you remember.

 

semolina breakfast cake

 

1 cup apple or other fruit juice

 

2 cups water

 

1 cup milk (or water if you prefer)

 

1 ½ cups semolina (yes, for those of you who remember eating cream of wheat this is that!)

 

½ teaspoon each cinnamon, ground coriander and ginger

 

2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

 

½ cup chopped fresh seasonal fruit (apples or pears in the fall) 

 

¼ cup lavender or acacia honey

 

½ cup yogurt

 

2 eggs

 

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

 

¼ cup granulated sugar for preparing the baking vessel

 

more honey for drizzling/serving.

 

please butter a 10 inch round pie plate or 9 by 7 casserole/tian/cocotte, sprinkle with granulated sugar

and set aside

 

bring the juice and 2 cups of the water to a boil in a medium size saucepot and add the semolina gradually, slowly pouring so as not to add all of it at once, otherwise lumps will prevail.

 

(does anyone remember the old bill cosby skit about lumps/vs raisins in his cream of wheat? hilarious, but i digress)

 

you must keep stirring and keep going, reduce the heat slightly, until the semolina thickens. it might take 2 minutes or as long as 5. it will be quite thick.

 

add in the cup of milk at the end – to thin a bit and cool off the porridge. stir in the fruit, the spices, the honey, the yogurt, and lastly the eggs. pour this in you prepared pan and bake for 30-40 minutes or until golden brown. let cool before slicing into wedges or squares. this is wonderful drizzled with more honey, or even more yogurt and a spoon of any confiture, just to gild the lily even more.

 

amaranth shortbread cookies with dried apricots

 

these cookies are just the thing you need now. amazing just as they are, crunchy and buttery, but dipped in melted bittersweet chocolate gives them an edge which has to be tasted to be believed. of course you may not have to go further than your own cupboard for the chocolate foraging, unless you’re up for a major adventure.

 

makes 48

 

2 cups all purpose flour

 

1/2 cup amaranth

 

1 cup boiling apple juice

 

3/4 cup brown sugar

 

1/2 cup finely chopped apricots

 

1 cup unsalted butter

 

pinch salt and a dash of vanilla

 

 

preheat the oven to 325 degrees. pour the boiling apple juice over the uncooked amaranth.  allow to absorb for at least 1 hour or even overnight.  add the sugar and cut in the butter using a pastry cutter or

two knives.  add the flour, using your hands.  keep mixing the dough, until it forms bigger and bigger lumps and holds together when pressed down.  roll the dough on a lightly floured surface.  cut into rounds using a 3" round cutter.  place on an ungreased cookie sheet and bake for about 12 minutes or until the cookies are barely golden around the edges.  let cool before optional dipping in chocolate. 

 

i still put the bowl of milk down for our shadow

~ our black lab. she’s at the vet this morning being x-rayed, getting a head start on soothing her inflamed ears and itchy eyes. seems she has allergies, and i pray that’s all she has.

 

and as a mother, and no i am not the mother of shadow (her mother’s name was chaos) but in caring for her, the cycle of nurturing is fed.

 

men can be mother’s too, i don’t intend to not include them in these conjectures. that i live with a nurturing (and at times ridiculously outrageous and hilarious) man was verified these last few weeks. this was not always so. he is older now. when our sons were young - he was much more of a father than a mother.

 

will this arouse any controversy? i wonder how you feel about mothers, fathers, AND THE TRANSITIONING OF LIFE.

 

women can, need to be at times, and are fathers.

 

my mother, aileen, was definitely more like what i thought of as a father. she was exacting, never emotionally close, stern, UTTERLY demanding.

 

of course there are many ways to think about mothers and fathers.

 

i explore these themes in city of ladies. how life changes, the people you meet along the way often fill in the gaps for what you were missing, or if you have been scarred – the same chaos follows you, shadows you, if you will. and you follow that path religiously because it is so familiar, even if it is unhealthy.

 

recently i've watched and read both these excellent revealing sides of mother’s.

 

sunshine cleaning - sisters dealing with the loss of their estranged mother and her memories

 

 

stone angels  - which is a book of note from canadian author margaret laurence

 

over a long conversation with a dear childhood friend, brenda, we shared how deeply devoted we were to our children (all sons) and how even now, as they are grown – and mostly grown – brenda’s youngest son is 15, would that we could, we would rescue them from any type of pain. we just would.

 

having losses of my own, i know there is no one and no way we could.  despite our devotion, we can’t save them from tragic losses or the possibility of happiness - life. we can prepare them to weather these days. to be strong in themselves, and even to begin to know that even on the most troublesome days come along they can handle it. 

 

but there is the table. around it sharing the experiences of daily satisfaction and deep flavors of sustenance.

 

but also being intensely devoted to the history of cooking and cuisine - i have pondered how these concepts of nurturing and non, can be consumed in a meal or a dish. 

 

and you are too, or you wouldn't be here ~ right?

 

 

i believe we encounter them every day at the table.

 

at the bread counter the other day i had an exchange with a young mother of several daughters.

 

she was distraught over feeding her children. she did not like to cook. but she did because, well, i am not sure why. i think she felt she had too. it is expected. she is a full-time mom (aren't all mothers?) at home, with perhaps another part time job ~ but clearly she enjoys being a mom - except this one straw.   

 

what she cooked, they didn't like.

 

she felt dissapointed. and she let them know.

 

battles ensued at the table.

 

she felt dissapointed again. they preferred store bought yogurt and bagels to her grilled vegetables or to her lovingly braised stews and soups.  she thought perhaps she would hold dessert back as a prize.

 

if you eat this, then this.

 

i offered the what if she arranged little bites of all of it on their plates.

even dessert.

 

little little bites. to entice their hunger.

 

what do you think?

 

i didn't get to tell her, but i also think if they can cook together, this might help take the pressure off of mom.

 

here is a smattering of mothers, both contemporary and ancient.

 

cafe mama

 

recent story - boston

 

another recent story - celtic

 

delia, the baby horse’s story - ancient heartache, maybe you've heard?

 

and shadow, you’ll be coming home today.

 

but drats! in the last sip of my morning’s coffee, was wax. any idea why?

 

the reason is in our recipe for this morning. ingredients from my favorite landscapes in la belle france.

 

i hope it nurtures you.

 

in this season.

 

today.

 

salt and honey walnuts with floc’d figs 

serve as an appetizer for a special dinner.

 

the esplette pepper or piment d'esplette comes from the basque region of france and has been used there since around 1523. adjust to suit your taste, then uummm!

 

1 cups walnuts

 

1 cup sliced dried figs

 

1 cup floc de gascogne

 

2 teaspoons olive oil

 

1/2 teaspoon coarse sea salt

 

2 tablespoons sugar

 

1/4 teaspoon piment d'esplette, or more to taste

 

2 tablespoons honey

 

mix together the salt, sugar, and pepper.

 

set aside in a small bowl.

 

soak the figs in floc for a couple of hours.

 

when ready to cook, drain the floc (should any remain, its yours, drink up)

 

heat a wok or heavy skillet over medium heat till hot. 

 

add the oil, give it a swirl, then add the nuts. 

 

stir well, but gently till the nuts are warmed, but not burned.

 

add in the figs.

 

sprinkle on the salt, stir, then shake over the sugar a little bit at a time.

 

add the honey and continue stirring till it’s melted and glazes the nuts.

 

remove to a buttered baking sheet and allow to cool and harden.

 

for an aperitif serve with vin de noix, a sweet wine made from green

 

walnuts picked and crushed on st. jeans’ day, june 24, in gascony.

 

 

make no bones about it

excuse my absence here. but i’m back with my adventure.

the last two weeks have passed, though i can’t exactly say they have been, ahem, painless.

 

shoulder surgery is part of it. accomplished. mobility mounting.

make no mistake the results will be magical. they say. no. quite possibly even splendid. but i must be patient.

 

the story behind the story turned out quite different than what i had expected. isn't that usually so?

 

months ago, they hushed and gave me my mri results.

 

they patted my arm and shook their heads about my rotator cuff, well, i scuffed my feet out of the examining room.

 

now what?

surgery.

that's what.

 

perhaps i didn’t make it clear enough to the docs.

 

this is my right arm, if you please.

 

my well-honed julienne, batonnet, brunois, oblique, and paysanne chip-chopper. 

 

alright. i gazed at the traffic from my stance in the middle of the road. 

 

then, i smiled and traced my by then “multi-terrifying tear” in my rotato cuff, from a bike ride 15 years ago.

 

in secret i tell you, i wanted my injured cuff to stem from this.

 

not only to have that story to tell. but to be true.

i live in a family of guys. and i am not one.

 

when my son, erick or jaryd, or my husband, rich, hands me a badmitten racket, they fight over who will get me.

 

not because of my powerful serve, but because the birdie will never meet the racket. 

 

maybe you have this problem? my racket is the racket plagued with giant and invisible holes. i swear.

 

but now at last i had a hero story to tell (and tell again, as is the tradtion at our table) and followed by surgery, well, my place amongst my fellow and familial wounded and famously so was secured. at last.

come along as i tell you what happened 15 years ago.

 

i was on a bike. 20 miles out. deep into alamance county along the old greensboro highway. a beautiful clear day. the kind of day where the horizon goes on forever. a day so clear...ok you get the idea. the sun was high in the sky.

 

it was likely this same time of year. late september. we had stopped for a picnic lunch. which if you knew my husband you know this means we had a power bar and a gatorade. yum.

 

to back up a little bit too, this was during the period of my career when i trekked out to now famous celebrity dairy in silk hope to learn how to make goat cheese from the mother expert, fleming pfann (today, what i did would be named far more romantically. my career would be heralded as an apprentice of fromage and i would have written a year in the curd, which became an overnight sensation that propelled me to the world cheese festival and circumference, be a best seller and i would have been on oprah)

 

but back to the bike. the sweat and the fears.

 

i was too far out and too far into the ride to turn around. i had another ten miles to go. when to what did my wondering eyes appear than a feast of flying beasties. they swooped over the hill from lindley’s mill, turned south towards savannah and then suprised themselves and moi by smacking into my face at a zillion miles per hour. 

 

my arms whirled. my legs flailed.

 

and left their stations on the pedals. but all i churned up in the ditch was dirt. my palms swiped bug exoskeletons from my lips and nose and rubbed legs out continuing to gauge my eyes.

 

is this perhaps a little melodramatic, too embellished?

nah. what a story, don’t you agree?

 

but after surgery my report offered a grand bouffe of four items wrong with my shoulder.

 

1. a little cartilage worn and torn

 

2. a 1 cm tear in my cuff

 

3. shredding of my biceps tendon/ligament

 

this shredded ligament had to be, and was, reattached and this takes time to heal. and so it moves onto the platter as a piece de resistance in the buffet. garnished with a little fennel pollen and toasted coriander and cumin seeds. and the reason it will be take another two months till i am back to slicing and dicing to precision with my right arm.

 

and ….one more thing, which was. ta da da..

 

4. a bone spur

 

eeeeoooowww

 

isn't that something old people have?

 

the bone spur, as it turns out (or up to be more accurate) was the root of all these problems so to speak as each time i would lift my arm, well, you get the picture. sorry. 

 

so all along on this magical mystery tour of pre-surgery, post and now pt (physical therapy) the medical personnel have rubbed their chins or touched me on the arm, the left one – as they liken my situation to what they deem an appropriate culinary analogy.

 

so i could understand.

 

the doc imbued his med-speak with culinary affection’s such as the ever famous ”when you’re butchering a cow, it’s like all that white tissue you trim off from a filet mignon.”

 

or this one. “your tendon is like you know the pieces that hold the chicken legs together but that you don’t eat?” yummy, thanks doc.

but my favorite must be “you can’t rush the healing. its exactly like having a student who continuously asks about the cake in the oven, or the beef bourguignon, is it done? i can tell you’d hate that, wouldn’t you?”

 

they have a point. some things you cannot rush.

 

and so it is with much cause celebre that i tell you i have achieved the result of my goal that i had posted last time which was to finish the manuscript.

 

hallelujah. city of ladies is a fait accompli.

 

the manuscript is completely roasted, stewed, deglazed. and garnished.

 

revised, edited, and in the hands of writers/readers:

 

teresa, cathy, chris, bruno, barry, and kitty!

 

so there is an odd kismet/karma chameleon that the recipe today is for

marrow fritters.

 

these are part of the wedding feast on toussaint in the the village of ceres in my novel, city of ladies.

 

i must mention that when looking for more informationon marrow recipes it is important to realize that other cultures can and do refer to squash as marrow.

 

for what I referr to here is bone marrow as from veal and beef bones. 

 

if you love osso bucco, the real thing and various and assundry offal – you have already picked up your fork.

 

an expert is fergus henderson, the british chef, who is well-know for his “offal” work and delicious results.

 

the bone marrow fritter recipe here is from the book medieval kitchen: recipes from france and italy.

 

and for a look at exactly why bone marrow is so good for you. 

 

from the the weston a. price foundation www.westonaprice.org

 

but this blog is in no way ending, in fact there is so much more to say.

 

i hope you'll stay tuned.

 

in closing today, i'd like to share a bit of really nice and sumptuous news.

 

three of my mother sauce recipes; basil béchamel, shrimp and scallop veloute, and an orange ginger hollandaise sauce are featured in the chef's chefs section of a newly released book by ann prospero:

 

triangle chefs: their lives, recipes, and restaurants.

 

it takes a fabulous look inside the who’s, what’s, where’s and why’s of a chef’s life. ann is a wonderful writer.

 

and since you mention it, soon, more about mother’s.

 

and food.

 

and bread.

 

fabulous, nurturing, crusty, hole ridden, sink into my bones, bread.