The Hazon Food Conference

The Jew and the Carrot blog is all over this. While I was still marveling at folks who are equally passionate about food and Judaism and delighting in the view of dozens of Chanukah menorahs ablaze at the same time, the Hazon food bloggers were already serving up the events with tang and flare, not to mention thought and care.

Yes, I watched three goats become ex-goats through Kosher slaughter and learned about the intricacies of the Farm Bill and the ins and outs of feeding inmates and school kids in New York City. I ate greens picked just a mile away and seitan marsala and Kosher kimchi. And yes, I got to see that one of my photos — Shallots in a Hurry — was part of the fundraising photo exhibit. But I haven’t been able to sit down and write much about it.

Take a read. I’m still chewing.

The power of sun

The other night, I discovered a charred gash as long as my pinky finger and about as thick marring the hardcover spine of a book. The image startled me. How had The Omnivore’s Dilemma received a burn two inches long and half an inch deep, through layers of dustcover and binding, without my noticing? My glasses, which had been sitting next to the book, were also burned. One lens now oozes permanently, creating a warped spot in the lower right corner of my vision.

Did someone break into my apartment, burn my stuff with the lighter I had nearby to light candles, and leave? That seemed highly unlikely. But just to check, I tried holding the lighter to the book. It began burning a wider, messier gash than the one I had. The pinky-sized gash seems to have been made by a slower, more patient endeavor.

Had it happened while I was sleeping? Did a spark leap from the electrical outlet and ignite the book cover in a flame that went out a few minutes later? It was possible, but I would have surely smelled that or felt the heat.
Confused and unsettled, I gave up until the sun enlightened me the next morning. I picked up the book, put it down in the usual place on the night table, and noticed a bright, hot stream of light. The sun itself, with a slow and powerful presence, had reduced the work of human hands to ash and a carefully crafted pair of glasses to a fun house mirror.

It seemed fitting that such a thing would happen to a book that dedicates a great deal of time to talking about the sun and the “free lunch” it provides. In Michael Pollan’s estimation, humans would be far better off if more of them followed the example of farmers who raise grass-fed animals (or, as the farmer Pollan follows calls it, farming grass).

The idea is to let the grass soak up the sun and grow up to be tasty food, have the animals graze and poop on it, then eat the animals and/or their eggs and milk. The alternative is letting corn grow on sun and chemicals, processing the corn using polluting fuels and more chemicals, then feeding it to animals who may never have seen a blade of grass. Additional work comes in because the processed corn lacks antioxidants and generally animal-friendly elements found in grass. To round out this convoluted chain, the sun-shunning farmers must give their corn-fed critters tons of antibiotics.

We could avoid this long second scenario, Pollan concludes, if we just harnessed the free and abundant power of the sun and kept it simple. I know for sure that it’s abundant, but its power is far from simple.

Challah back

20071202_0007For generations, Jewish women (and, increasingly, Jewish men) have looked into a mixing bowl on a Friday and seen more than just eggs and flour. In the makings of a batch of challah, we have seen the oncoming shabbat, bringing with it rest and reflection. We have seen the community of people we will meet or pray with, the reading we’ll get done, perhaps the nap we’ll take when all that’s over. And, of course, we have seen ourselves a few hours hence tearing into some really tasty chometz.after and before

My mom and I brought back the challah-making tradition at my house when I last went to visit. We teamed up to churn out a big batch of loaves she could save for future Sabbaths. Every time I’ve made challah, actually, it’s been a community effort. The first time was with a group from Gallaudet learning from a local rabbi. And it wasn’t just me and my mom baking this last time — we consulted with a woman who makes challah every week at the local Chabad house, getting details and tips while we shared tidbits about our Thanksgiving plans.cutie challah

I must say the result was delicious, and ever so cute. Although we were making single-serving rolls, we preserved the traditional braided shape. The outcome looked like the regular forearm-length loaves had been hit with a shrink ray and I could just imagine Ken and Barbie (or may Chen and Sari) putting two of these darlings back to back and saying the hamotzi in their tiny doll voices.

I did not come away with a recipe I can recommend, mostly because the one we used gave the quantity of flour in pounds instead of cups. So if you would like to create your own challah, try one of these.

Another interesting note: there’s no Jewish law that says challah (literally meaning separate, not bread) should be braided or full of sugar and eggs. It tastes mighty good that way, though. Although studies have yet to prove that the bumps of the braid improve the flavor, I’m convinced this is true.

Pumpkin-Black Bean Croquettes with Sautéed Tatsoi and Fresh Orange Sections (or How to Use Up Your Leftovers—Fall Edition)

You’ve trapped, gutted, and cooked your own pumpkin. Good for you! But now you’ve eaten the yellowy orange flesh for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and even baked it into a large batch of cookies. You considered making pumpkin pie, but then realized that crust is not your bag. What to do?

Sitting next to the ex-gourd is another sorry sight. You made a large batch of black bean burritos but, since you never measure, have a few cups of filling left over. Weekday mornings are not the time for heuvos rancheros—the best use for black beans as far as you’re concerned–and the leftovers aren’t calling to you for lunch or dinner. Qué problema!

And then there’s the tatsoi you got at last week’s farmers’ market, a yummy Asian green that isn’t going to stay lush forever.

Just above the tatsoi, an orange that selflessly gave its zest to a batch of scones now looks up at you, pith exposed, asking what will become of it. Do we have a problem? Hai!

What is the answer? A visit from the Leftovers Gourmet! Continue reading

Mikey likes it!

Pad ThaiThrough the tickling grapevines and the smell of oncoming winter, a blonde rushes through the door. Her coconut milk cheeks flush hibiscus as the warmth envelops her. She embraces Taw Vigsittaboot and kisses his handsome, creased cheek. This one, he knows, likes her orders spicy.

Thus begins an essay I wrote for my Johns Hopkins nonfiction class. And my prof actually liked it! Much like a cook who serves with trepidation, unsure how the food will taste on her guests’ palates, I never know how my writing will reflect in others’ eyes. By the time a piece is done, I’ve stirred and tasted and added a pinch of this or that so many times that objectivity is impossible. I may decide it’s flavorless or the most delicious creation in the history of the world, but know full well that anyone outside my brain (or my kitchen) can have a completely different take.

Now at least one critic has had a say in this one. I’m not sure if it was the merry Thanksgiving feelings talking or it really is good for a first draft, but he had good things to say about it. And that gave me the confidence to share the draft with you.

The piece is also a perfect choice for you, dear reader, because it has to do with food and a delightful D.C. culinary find–Thai X-ing.

Give Flare to Gold a read.

Stuff it

You have cute, serving-sized winter squash. What do you do? Stuff it.

You want to turn a mound of mashed tofu into something Thanksgiving-esque. What do you do? Stuff it.

A table full of baked squash, tofu un-turkey, mashed red skin potatoes, green beans with garlic butter and toasted walnuts, cranberry sauce, and homemade blueberry crepes sits in front of your face. What do you do?

Stuff it!

Between the spicy polenta-stuffed squash, the stuffing-stuffed tofu, and the stuffed bellies around the table, that was certainly the theme of my Thanksgiving.

It seemed only fitting to create a post stuffed full of photos. Here goes.

THE STUFFED TOFU

THE THANKSGIVING TABLE

The mashed potatoes, stuffing, mushroom gravy, and string beans seem to be stuffed into the back corner, but you get a good view of the polenta-stuffed squashies.

The squashies baring their tangy inner souls

You’ve probably had your fill of photos now.

Ready for a new recipe? How about this:

Picante polenta-stuffed squash
Makes 6-12 servings

Ingredients

3 medium to large winter squash (like butternut) or 6 small ones (like sweet dumpling or acorn)
1 cup cornmeal
4 cups water
Dash of salt
¼ cup olive oil
1 medium onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 jalapeños (or hotter pepper like serranos, for more bite), finely diced
About 1 cup cheddar and jack cheese, shredded (optional)

What to do

Preheat oven to 375 F. Pierce the whole squashes with a fork several times. If you have a cleaver or you’re feeling macho, hack open each squash (preferably cutting it right down the middle into 2 identical pieces) and remove the seeds. Place whole squash right side up or squash halves cut side down on an oiled baking tray. Bake for 30-60 minutes or until a fork goes in with a little resistance.

While the squash is cooking, you can prepare the polenta. Heat the olive oil in a skillet and sauté the onion for a few minutes, then add the garlic and jalapeño and sauté a few minutes more. Set the veggie aside.

In a heavy-bottomed saucepan, heat the 4 cups water to a simmer and slowly add the cornmeal, stirring constantly. Add a dash of salt. Lower heat and continue at a leisurely simmer for about 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. When the polenta is thick and smooth, remove from heat and stir in the veggies. Taste and add salt to taste.

Now go back to the squash. If you’re using acorn squash or another smallish, round squash and you’ve baked them whole, at this point you can cut off the tops. They will look like they’re about to become mini jack-o-lanterns. Set the tops aside and do not re-bake them. They’re just for show. If you’re using larger squash, cut them in half.

With whatever kind of squash you’re using, at this point you’ll need to remove the seeds. Also scoop out some of the insides until you have a generous amount of stuffing space.

Stuff each squash up to the top or a little more. Return to the oven to bake at 375 for another 30 minutes or until the squash is good and soft. If using cheese, sprinkle it on top of the squash at this point and bake or broil until the cheese is melted and bubbly.

Serve with the tops on or near the squashies, or cut squash into wedges. Try it with salsa!

Down to the wire

Did you do it? Did you already figure out your Thanksgiving menu? Meal details were the first thing I thought of, but I realize not everyone is as food-focused as I.

 If you still need good vegetarian dish ideas, check it out:

Un-Turkey and Stuffing – My own adaptation of a recipe I found years ago and have been making ever since. Far better than that Tofurky crap.

Pumpkin Cookies – Cookies that I started making this year that have been a hit (try replacing some or all of the raisins with currents or dried cranberries.  You can also substitute butternut or acorn squash for the pumpkin).

More recipes – From another blogger who has collected all the great vegetarian Thanksgiving recipes I was too lazy to search for.

Gobble gobble!

Nice stats!

Another lovely result of the photo contest: more hits!

I believe it was thanks to your reading and voting that led to 4,760 hits from 263 unique visitors in a little over two weeks. The two-week average recently has been 2,800-4,000 hits from around 165 people.

Yes, it’s modest compared to some sites, but I’m quite pleased. Thanks for reading and keep the comments coming!

Mr. Olive goes to Falls Village

It looks like Olives gets to go to Falls Village, CT, but I won’t send it alone. Three others will keep it company.

The olives got the most votes, with the onion coming in second. Unfortunately, the way the onion’s cropped, it’s not the right dimensions for the photo exhibit. After some discussion, the onion refused to be recropped, citing some noble reason like adherence to artistic vision.

The rest I chose based on favorites according to readers and artistic merit according to moi. (Hey – I never claimed it would be a democratic process).

Thanks for your votes in my little photo contest and for supporting this acolyte photographer. Thanks especially to those who waded through the Feast Your Eyes posts to view the pictures!

The photos getting an all-expenses-paid electronic trip to the food conference are:

Olives

An Avocado in Hand…

Shallots in a Hurry

Collards

Thanks again!