A little urban gardening update is in order before more goodies, and the true 2009 harvest gets under way. Beginnings are pictured above and a recipe is at bottom. A timeline of winter urban gardening follows:

In early November, bracing the settling chill of the City, D and I haphazardly construct a cold frame in our garden plot and set out some seed. When I say haphazard I mean it in the truest sense: with no hard design plan (though two conflicting views in our minds) we enter a second hand building supply store near the garden. In approximately 1 hour, after much debate as to which plan to build, we leave with 4 pieces of wood (2 long; 2 short) and a large glass door I bargained down to $20. In 15 minutes, fighting the cold, we hold the wood together (no nails/ screws) and push soil around the sides to keep them in place. Getting cold and dark, I toss random cold hardy seeds inside our new cold frame: kohlrabi, mustard, arugula, tatsoi, spinach, radish, and potentially some others I mark as “?” in the garden journal. The glass door is set over top and we return in approximately 1 month.

To great surprise, makeshift cold frames have appeared in other garden plots constructed out of clear plastic and held down with rocks. To even greater surprise, many of the seeds we threw down actually sprout, specifically the tatsoi, radish, mustard, arugula and spinach. “Take that farmers!” We call to cold streets and abandoned buildings around the garden. We consider ourselves trendsetters in winter gardening. In the fading daylight hours of winter we had created a fabulous self-watering greenhouse (thank you condensation).

By late December we have the first of a measly harvest, not even enough for a side salad and we question if this is worth it– $30 for the wood and glass and about $10 in seeds (with seeds left over for future plantings come spring).

January is brutally cold and surprisingly snowy for New York City. We question our shoddy cold frame construction.

Early February arrives and after diligently ordering $60 of seeds for a 2009 planting season and reading many a garden book, my faith is renewed in our winter plants: we had simply started a few months too late. If we really want to benefit from a winter harvest, seeds must be planted in August to allow maturity in long days of sun and hibernation in shortened days December to mid-February.

We return in mid-February to find our once sad plants have taken off with the lengthening days. “Take that brutal January!” There was even a rogue something or other we could not yet decipher that had sprung from a late summer planting, not intended for the cold frame. Chamomile, planted late last season has survived the winter exposed to all elements. We harvest a small salad.

By late-February I start a few seeds indoors and we return again on an unseasonably warm day to prepare our soil for spring planting. We chopped up and turn under corn stalks from last year and take a long inspection of the cold frame goodies. The rogue something or other turns out to be broccoli rabe, an excellent surprise. I harvest a large bag of mixed greens that last four dinner-sized servings.

In mid-March we return again, this time finishing off soil prep and sow a few of the prepared beds with spring seeds: radish, spinach, arugula, mixed salad, carrots, swiss chard, scallions, cilantro, mint, sorrel and sage. I note in our garden journal that it is 3 weeks to the last frost date (April 13 in New York City). The newly planted radish are supposed to be ready to eat April 17 according to the 4 weeks-to-maturity date. The outlook is doubtful. This is not good news as I had hoped to pull the radish to make way for sugar snap peas, tomatoes, and cucumber. I harvest another large bag of mixed greens that last four dinner-sized servings.

Late-March I return again and transplant some purchased strawberry and kohlrabi seedlings as well as some home-grown fennel, leek and kale seedlings started indoors. Sugar snap peas also find their home in the ground next to the slow-to-mature radish, as well as some marigold, mustard and another patch of arugula and mixed greens. The two-week-old radish, spinach, arugula and mixed greens are now all peeking at this point. Swiss chard, carrots, scallions and herbs are not visible (grumbles and curses ring out). I harvest another large bag of mixed greens that last four dinner-sized servings.

In early-April I remove the glass from the cold frame. Leeks are looking straggly. Fennel is teetering on the edge of existence. Kale is kicking butt. November-planted greens continue on their course. I allow them to rest and grow before another harvest.

We come to present time, mid-April. Yesterday (estimated last frost date) I transplanted cilantro, cumin and basil into the garden that were started indoors. I am hoping this batch of cilantro holds on. I also direct-seeded parsley and another round of sage and mint. I harvested another large bag of mixed greens, including a single wintered radish and the rogue broccoli rabe. These should last four dinner-sized servings, potentially longer.

In total, the $40 I spent on supplies for the winter garden has served us 17 servings and counting. If these meals were at a restaurant it is a definite savings. Compared to farmer’s market organic purchases, I’m not sure just yet– though the winter crops will continue to feed us until the new seeds are large enough to take over at which point they will be pulled for some summer fare. The savings will no doubt be great as the original $10 spent on winter green seeds are still being seeded.

For these last few harvests I made a grapefruit Caesar salad dressing to enjoy with the spicy greens. Caesar is one of my all time favorite dressings and I order it liberally at restaurants, though often finish it with disappointment. Who says Caesar needs Romaine lettuce?! Or only croutons for adornment?!

With these slightly spicy mixed greens, simply served with a slice of wild salmon, the meal could not be more perfect to welcome in the spring (though April showers are doing a fine job of that). For something slightly more filling and exotic, I topped the salad with toasted hazelnuts and a few feta pieces, as pictured above.

Spicy Greens, Salmon and Grapefruit Caesar
2 servings. Active time= 10 minutes. Cook time= 8 minutes.
3 tablespoons chopped hazelnuts
2 large handfuls mixed spicy greens (mustard, arugula, kale, tatsoi, etc)
1/4 pound feta
Grapefruit Caesar Dressing (recipe below)
two 1/4 pound pieces wild salmon
2 tablespoons olive oil
salt/ fresh-ground black pepper

In a dry skillet, toast the hazelnuts over medium-high heat until lightly browned, set aside to cool slightly. Toss the mixed greens and feta with 1 to 2 tablespoons of the Grapefruit Caesar Dressing (recipe below). Warm a skillet over medium-high heat. Once hot, add olive oil. Salt and pepper the salmon and cook, skin side up first, 3 minutes each side (for rare fish, longer for more done). Set finished salmon over the dressed lettuce, add hazelnuts over top.

Grapefruit Caesar Dressing
12 servings. Active time= 8 minutes. Cook time= 0. 
3 large cloves garlic (or 2 teaspoons garlic powder)
8 anchovies, patted dry
1 egg
3 tablespoons grapefruit juice
1 tablespoon Parmesan cheese
1 tablespoon tarragon vinegar (or apple cider vinegar)
2 teaspoons grapefruit zest
1 teaspoon mustard poweder
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons olive oil
fresh-ground black pepper

Place all ingredients in a blender and blitz until combined. Taste and adjust seasonings if desired. NOTE: I use a raw egg in my dressing because I know the farm my eggs come from. You can alternately boil the egg in the shell for 1 minute.

(If memory serves correct, this photo is of a wort kettle fermenting its way to beer at New Belgium Brewery in Colorado. D or A- any help on this? (And I know, a proper story is long overdue.))

 This post is featured on Sustainable Table as this month’s Adventure in Fermentation.

As promised, this month’s Adventures in Fermentation has us discussing the basics. What is fermentation, specifically in food. To start the conversation, let’s clarify that I truly mean the basics. I am no expert on the subject, just a food loving individual that has been fervently fermenting away for about 1 year now. My mind cannot hold down the chemical makeup, compounds and  gases part of the process, so this is a primer with further reading listed at bottom.

In short, fermentation is the process of turning sugars (carbohydrates) into alcohol (think wine) or acid (think vinegar). The final result depends on the bacteria present.

Something I find fascinating is that some bacterias are specific to a region. For instance, the beloved sourdough bread of San Francisco is specific to the lovely city, which is why sourdough bread in other regions rarely has that same tangy flavor as San Francisco sourdough. It’s so specific it is named after the city: Lactobacillus sanfrancisco. You can even purchase this bacteria online to inoculate your own starter with the culture. If you live in San Francisco you are lucky enough to simply leave a bread starter in your windowsill and Lactobacillus sanfrancisco will likely join the party.

Here’s another example: Ever wandered into a strawberry patch a few days after heavy rains and the field smells ever so slightly of wine? The fruit has begun the natural process of fermentation.

Many items you don’t think of as fermented foods are in fact, fermented. They come to us from an ancient tradition of fermentation, most often for food storage (when people are involved). Today, instead of relying on fermentation, we tend to rely on nuking all bacteria out of our food to create a dead zone, then refrigerate to keep growth away as long as possible. Most of us know wine and beer is fermented, even if we don’t know the process. Yogurt, cheese, miso, sourdough bread, kimchi, pickles, sauerkraut, soy sauce, salami, kombucha and more also arrive on our plate after fermentation has occurred.

In fact, without fermentation, it’s safe to say we probably wouldn’t be here today– or at least habitation in a large part of the world would have occurred after the invention of the refrigerator in the early 1900’s. That’s all well and good, you say, but you mention bacteria and that’s bad!

Oh sweet bacteria! Whether you like it or not, bacteria is present in our everyday lives. We breathe it, we walk on it, we touch it, we live it. In fact, without bacteria, digestion in our bodies would not be possible. It’s up to you to choose to fight it with the use of modern anti-bacterial soaps, scrubs, chemicals and pills, or live in harmony with it, making both you and the planet stronger.

I choose to live with bacteria. I’m not saying I walk around New York City licking subway poles, or if I get cut I don’t clean out the wound, but I might not wash my hands before I eat something. Since I made this decision, putting food that is alive and rich in bacteria into my body, I am sick less often, feel more awake, I digest food better, and in general feel healthier. In other words, I have created a thriving colony of bacteria in my stomach that are able to fight off infection more readily. Bad bacteria enters my system, good bacteria, already present in excess, attacks.

The following is summed from the great fermentor Sandor Katz’s book, Wild Fermentation.

Fermentation can produce alcohol (as in wine), lactic acid (cheese/yogurt), and acetic acid (vinegar). Fermentation preserves high amounts of nutrients in foods. It also begins breaking food down, making it not only easier to digest, but nutrients easier to absorb. Fermentation also transforms the food, producing new nutrients and removing toxins from foods (which is why some believe fermented soy is the only way this legume should be consumed).

Milk, especially when we pasteurize it, is indigestible for many people. By turning lactose into lactic acid, dairy products are not only easier to digest, they’re delicious and highly nutritious (which is why some producers are making big bucks selling “probiotic” filled products. Guess what– those probiotics, as in positive (or good) bacteria, should already be in the product if it is in fact real yogurt, not pasteurized after cultures were added!).

As we realize more and more, just like mono-cultures in our agriculture system are bad, mono-cultures in our eating habits are bad. By eating a diversity of foods helps a body receive a large range of nutrients. The same goes for fermented foods, and exposing your body to a wide range of microorganisms (bacteria).

Live bacteria are where these nutrients lie. Unfortunately, we bake bread before we eat it, and we pasteurize many products (like wine) killing any live bacteria that could help us. You can get your live bacteria rush by seeking out items that mention they are “unpasteurized,” “raw,” or contain “live cultures.” Or, you can ferment food yourself. The benefit of fermenting your own foods is that you harness your local bacteria, raising your resistance to allergies and bad bacteria in your own home or neighborhood.

Last month we discussed how to make our own yogurt. Next month we’ll explore another fermented food- any suggestions?

For further reading, check out:
Sandor Katz, Wild Fermentation
Wikipedia’s Fermentation (biochemistry) page
Microbial Fermentation

There is nothing like a good fishermen stew to wipe the gray days from our April galoshes. Nothing like a French fishermen stew to make us feel properly elegant. And nothing like a big ol’ pot simmering away to offer plenty of leftovers for the week to come (or freeze for the next rainy day).

Bouillabaisse (pronounced boo-ya-base), not only fun to say, is a delicious alternative to your basic fish soup. Even better, it is far healthier than its cream-based cousin, Chowder.

This fish stew comes to our shores via France as a way for fishermen to use up unsold leftovers from their catch. It comes to our plate today because I canned 25 quart jars of tomatoes and when I brainstormed uses for them beyond pasta, this was a dish listed (just after tomato ice cream).

What I love most about this dish, other than using up 2 jars of tomatoes, is the use of fennel. Woe is the lowly fennel bulb in the US marketplace that receives little attention. While I use fennel, and to a greater extent anise (fennel seeds) in dishes– most notable citrus-based salads, I loved the idea of adding it to a soup base. Fish is the perfect compliment to this tangy licorice-laced vegetable. (I used anise in my Bouillabaisse, noting it in the recipe, because it was what was on hand.) But thoughts of fennel have me dreaming of a spring fennel-potato cream soup. Thankfully, fennel seeds were planted last week in the garden.

I bulk of flavor of my stock comes from a cod head I purchased at my local fish monger. It’s flavor is far more subtle than fattier, stronger flavored fishes, like salmon, and provides a rich base to build on. After that, the remaining fish is a matter of preference and price. While there are Bouillabaisse purists who claim only certain seafood is allowed in a Bouillabaisse, I recommend a combination of favorite shellfish and fish that can hold up in a stock: clam, mussels, calamari, shrimp, cod and monkfish.

Another ingredient of Bouillabaisse is saffron. While I love the subtle sweet woodsy flavor of saffron, I believe the true winner in this dish is the fish. Saffron is expensive and I recommend forgoing this ingredient if you don’t have it around.

An interesting factoid to keep in mind once you get to adding the fish: Bouillabaisse is a combination of two French words bolhir, to boil, and abaissar, to simmer. So named because you add your first fish when the stock boils. Once added, the temperature drop, reducing the stock to a simmer. Return to a boil, add the next fish, again the stock is reduced to a simmer, and so forth. With each return to boil you can be assured that your fish is cooking through, without overdoing it– as long as you begin your bolhir with your fish that will cook from longest to shortest (approximately).

Bouillabaisse
Serving Size= 8. Prep Time= 20 minutes. Cook Time= 45 minutes.
12 clams
1 pound mussels
1 pound monkfish (with bone)
1/2 cup olive oil
2 onions, sliced thinly
1 4-inch length of orange peel
8 cloves garlic, crushed
1 tablespoon anise seeds (or 1 fennel bulb, sliced thinly)
1 cod head
4 generous pinches saffron
1 tablespoon dried herbs (thyme, rosemary, basil, marjoram would work)
2 quarts whole canned tomatoes, loosely chopped
1 pound cod, cut into 2-inch cubes
1 pound shrimp
1/2 pound calamari
salt/pepper to taste
1 bunch fresh parsley, chopped,  for garnish

Clean beards from mussels, set aside. Cover clams with room temperature salted water in a bowl, set aside. Remove monkfish from bone. Cut meat into 2-inch pieces, set bone aside.

Warm the olive oil in a large stock pot. Add onions and orange peel, saute 3 minutes. Add garlic and anise, stir 2 minutes. Add 2 quarts of water, monkfish bone and fish head. Bring to a boil then reduce heat and simmer 15 minutes. Remove bone and head. Stir in saffron until dissolved. Add dried herbs and tomatoes, return to a boil. Add clams. Return to a boil and stir to encourage opening. Add mussels. Return to a boil and stir to encourage opening. Continue to add shellfish and fish one at a time, returning the pot to a boil before each new addition. Stir the pot after each addition to encourage shellfish to open. Once calamari is added, cook just 2 to 3 minutes longer, remove from heat then salt and pepper to taste.

To serve, strain shellfish and fish into a large serving bowl or platter, sprinkle with half the parsley. Serve broth in bowls garnished with parsley. (Keeping these separate makes reheating easy– just reheat broth and once boiling, pour over fish and shellfish instead of recooking, eventually overcooking, fish and shellfish!) Bouillabaisse is often served with good crusty bread spread with a saffron mayonnaise and boiled potatoes.