Sadly, the sour cherry season is coming to a close. If you look hard you might be able to find the last sours of the season. I’ve heard reports from friends hitting up local farmer’s markets that they can still find them depending on where the farm comes in from.

Last week I was visiting D who is teaching and performing in upstate NY for the month. In a desperate attempt to find fresh fruit– any fruit, I finally found an orchard with pick-your-own sour cherries.* I happily dragged D out in his limited time off for an afternoon of cherry picking.

“What are you going to do with all this?! There must be 20 lbs of fruit here!” D exclaimed towards the end of our pickin’.

“If you think this is 20 lbs you seriously need to start lifting weights, it’s closer to 10. And do? Cherry cobbler, cherry ice cream, maraschino cherries, brandy cherries, cherry jam… What won’t I do?!”

Final verdict: 12 lbs picked and D will hopefully start on his weight regimen on his return to the city.

We returned to the home of our friends J and L and I got to work pitting my cherries. You can see in the photo above I actually have a cherry pitter, which sadly, is not the best tool for sour cherries because they are a little softer than sweet cherries. I also don’t appreciate the double hole pitters create (one where the poker goes in and one where the pit comes out). I found it wasted a lot of juice in these precious globes. Instead, I ended up using a paperclip trick the orchard suggested.

That night, a cherry cobbler was on the table and the rest went into freezer bags to accompany me back to NYC for my ice cream, brandy, jam and more. I even kept the pits to make cherry pit ice cream (which tastes like almond). But as I looked at the 3 bags of cherries those 12 lbs-less-a-cobbler didn’t look like very much anymore. I promptly called the orchard and asked if there would be cherries left the following week when I return. “Should be.”

So today I pray for cherries to hold out just a few more days for me. I can’t bear calling the orchard until tomorrow to check the tree status. But when I left last week, D was very encouraging: “Just think, next time you’re up there will be blueberries.” I head back up tomorrow and the best part– not only are blueberries and raspberries ripe, I’ve already mapped out the pick-your-own peach orchards for the return drive!

*I also spent the day at the farm that supplies my CSA with grass-fed beef and free-range pork. They had currant bushes ready for picking but a downpour and hornets nest (conveniently tucked into the branches) kept us from picking too many.

This sauerkraut receives its fuchsia-hue from beets.

Note: This post also appears on Sustainable Table’s Adventures in Fermentation.

Confession: When I was younger I hated sauerkraut. Most people will read that and think, Well, no bother. Just don’t eat the stuff. It’s not like one is presented with it often!

But, being that I am half-Latvian, sauerkraut was presented to me more often than most people would consider normal. Perhaps normal for you would be that one year at a family picnic when your eclectic Aunt Betty, having just returned from Germany, wanted to share the joys of sauerkraut along with a rousing schuhplattling. Or perhaps it was on a vacation 3 years back and it appeared mysteriously, slathered on a hot dog.

But, as I said, being half-Latvian, sauerkraut was seemingly everywhere. Forget the odd family picnic or bizarre vacation hot dog. On our regular journeys into the depths of Chicago’s Latvian neighborhood we would find my grandmother at home, stirring a large batch of sauerkraut. (Think stock pot size– enough for everyone to take home!) At the yearly Latvian block party, buckets of sauerkraut from every family on the block would be on the offering– right there, next to the jelly bean guess-the-quantity competition (which, thank you, I won one year). You know block parties, one little nibble from your own grandmother isn’t enough, you have to look good in front of the neighbors. During cold Chicago winters, my own mother would raise the stock pot and pour in the ‘kraut. Eventually, the operation was moved to a portable burner in the garage so the smell wouldn’t saturate the house during the 4+ hour cook time– and of course, so we could have sauerkraut more often.As a child I thought sauerkraut was, well, sour. It was also funny looking. And it smelled weird.

I’m not talking about the sauerkraut that is served cold with sausage on the side (though ours was most often served with kielbasa on the side). My family’s Latvian sauerkraut is slow-braised for hours until it reaches caramelization. It sits there on the plate, a deep amber mass, fit for a rustic Baltic meal: a side of meat with mustard and dark Latvian rye bread.

As a child I recall my polite no thank you’s when it was being served, but was always met with the parental, “Okay, just a little then.” So there it sat on my plate being pushed around and spread out to appear if at least not enjoyed, partially consumed.

But years pass and tastes change and that sourness now seems more sweet.

My grandmother, uncles and mother still make a stock pot full of sauerkraut, and sometimes I even find myself behind the stove on a cold New York City night taking out the stock pot.

But the start to sauerkraut, whether it’s slow cooked, or uncooked and cold, begins with fermentation.

As one can imagine, northern Europe plays host to some frigid winters. (If you cannot imagine, I spent an August in Latvia, their warmest month, and wore a sweatshirt the whole time there. Of course, families were basking in Speedos on the beach, but to each their own.) Cabbage was, and still is, a mainstay of the cuisine. It grows well in cool climates and once fermented, it has a long shelf life, feeding a family through a brutal winter. A little salt and a crock pot is all it takes and in a few days natural bacterias in the air take over for a lacto-fermentation (ending as lactic acid converts sugars to acid).

Once fermented, kept raw, sauerkraut is very high in vitamin C. In fact, it is sauerkraut, and other fermented foods, that cured early explorers of scurvy (not barrels of oranges)*. Further, all those sugars, converted to acids, lowers the pH and is good for digestion. And some believe that fermented foods keep them healthy and can fight against disease and illness from the avian flu to ulcers and cancer to hangovers. (A hangover cure might also explain why my Latvian family can drink like a fish through the night and wake up raring to go.)

It should be noted that all these benefits occur when the sauerkraut is eaten raw, uncooked. If you want the same beneficial bacteria to play in your stomach and don’t want to make it yourself, seek out raw sauerkraut on the store shelves. Most of the sauerkraut you find in bags has been quick fermented with vinegar and will not have the same positive results.

Should you want to make it yourself, it’s easy and a fun experiment for any kitchen! You can add a plethora of vegetables to the mix. In my batch, pictured above, I have cabbage, beets, carrots and kohlrabi. You can even add hot pepper flakes for a kimchi-like variation.

NOTE: Never use aluminum as your fermentation vessel, or aluminum tools to stir or taste. A ceramic crock or large glass 1 to 5 gallon containers are ideal. Clean everything well so only good bacteria have an opportunity to multiply (a run through a dishwasher or hand washed with hot water and soap is fine).

Sauerkraut
Serving size= about 6. Active time= 20 minutes. Inactive time=1 to 3 weeks, depending on temperature (hot temperatures speed up fermentation)
2 medium to large heads cabbage (red or green), about 5 lbs
3 carrots
1/4 cup Kosher salt
4 cloves garlic, peeled
2 teaspoons caraway seeds (optional)

Shred the cabbage and carrots using a food processor (or finely by hand), as you would for coleslaw. Set in a bowl and toss with salt, garlic and caraway seeds. Transfer to your fermentation vessel (see note above). Using your fist, pack the vegetables firmly into the bottom of your vessel to release as many air bubbles as possible. (This is where a glass vessel is nice because you can see your progress.) Juice should escape from the cabbage and just cover the vegetables. If not, add a little water and a bit of salt until vegetables are just covered. (The older your cabbage, the less juice it will have!) Place a weight inside your container, keeping as much of the cabbage underneath as possible. A ceramic plate or food-grade plastic bag filled with some salt water (in case the bag breaks) work well. Cover the fermentation vessel with a kitchen towel or a few layers of cheesecloth and secure. Set aside on counter.

After 2 to 3 days, taste the cabbage, fermentation will have begun! Continue to taste until it reaches a tartness you like, 1 to 3 weeks, depending on the temperature in the room. After day 3, you might notice a film developing on the top of the brine. Skim it off every day or two, but don’t wait more than 2 days. Once the vegetables have reached a flavor you like, transfer to the refrigerator. It will keep for many months.

If you are going out of town after your fermentation has begun but is not finished, just transfer your container to the fridge and replace it to your counter when you return. Cold temperatures slow fermentation. Never eat fermented foods that taste “meaty” or smell off– your nose is powerful, trust it! This is a sign the wrong bacteria have taken over (rare, but it can happen). Fermented foods should smell tangy, tart and fresh.

Other additions include curry, turmeric, hot pepper flakes, dill, onions, turnips, kohlrabi, radish or other vegetables and seasonings in your sauerkraut!

*Or is is barrels of limes?! Perhaps a combination of both– or it depends where those sailors came from!

(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.

Adventures in Fermentation is my new blog series over at Sustainable Table. Apparently it was Twittered too (I’m not familiar) and placed on their RSS feed. I’ll be posting a fermentation adventure about once a month. Goal #1: Set Goals. Goal #2: Stick to Goals.

Throughout the Adventure I hope to cover:
Wild Fermented Pickles, Ginger Beer, Sauerkraut, Beer, Kombucha, Kefir, Kimchi, Bread, Olives, Miso and more! The next installment will speak more about fermentation in general, and perhaps provide a report back of an upcoming fermentation party I’ll be attending (I received the invite 3 months ago so I could ferment on my attendance).

I realize most of my readers are the quiet lurking type, but I would love to get some comments going about things you like to ferment, recipes you have, or funny fermenting stories.

The post is below, or head over to Sustainable Table to read it, and other great stories!

Welcome to the first installment of Adventures in Fermentation. In these postings we’ll explore the universe of fermented foods, happenings in the fermentation world, and delve into some recipes to try.

Fermented food and drink are not just wine, beer, and pickles! There is a whole universe of fermented foods to explore. In the next issue, I’ll talk more about what fermentation is exactly and its many positives, but until then, let’s jump right into something soft and cloudy: yogurt.

That’s right, yogurt is a fermented food (remember the term probiotic for the next posting). It is one of the simpler fermented foods to make, requires few supplies, and is something most of us are familiar enough with that you might be willing to try it.

Here’s a kicker that might get you making your own yogurt:
Yogurt on the market most of us are accustomed to has added thickeners (tapioca, citrus pulp, cornstarch, or other synthetic agents) added to make the end product a thick and even consistency (there are also a lot of sugars added). We sometimes also see “with probiotics” stamped on the container. Yogurt naturally is a probiotic food, so forget that claim. The real question is: Why eat all those extras if all you want is yogurt?

Yogurt that does not use thickeners, is much thinner, sometimes even lumpy. To make the consistency weightier, without thickeners, producers often drain the product losing a lot of whey in the process (which can be used to bake bread with). I have heard if you heat the milk to a higher temperature before adding culture you can thicken your yogurt further, but if you are using raw milk products, you run the risk of killing heat sensitive bacteria that makes milk digestible.

I enjoy homemade goat yogurt (made with goat milk) topped with granola, a scoop of homemade preserves, or simply as a yogurt beverage similar to kefir (another fermented food) full of all those great probiotics.

If you are interested in making your own yogurt, it is fairly simple. (read on for the details!)

You will need:
• raw milk or high quality organic milk
• yogurt cultures
• a large pot to heat the milk
• a cooking thermometer
• a glass jar to store your yogurt
• cheesecloth

If you have a friend with a batch of yogurt going, you can grab about 2 tablespoons of their finished yogurt per gallon of fresh milk to make your own yogurt. If not, I recommend purchasing cultures (both a thicker European culture or “tangy” culture) from New England Cheese Making Supplies.

The final yogurt recipe is dependent on the culture you use.

If you don’t want to bother with cultures, you can try using store-bought yogurt as your starter:

1/2 gallon organic (or raw) whole milk
1 cup organic yogurt

Heat the milk on medium-low heat in a saucepot to 165 F, do not bring to a boil. Remove from heat and allow milk to cool to 110 F. Add yogurt, stir to incorporate, cover with a clean kitchen towel and secure with a rubber band or tie. Place in a warm location, undisturbed, overnight (inside a turned off oven works great). The next day, transfer to storage container and refrigerate. To thicken the yogurt, strain it through multiple layers of cheesecloth or a coffee filter. Reserve whey that drains for baking.

More ideas:
Use goat or sheep milk for other tangy yogurt creations
Sprinkle with cinnamon and a drizzle of honey

Yogurt is not just for breakfast or a snack! Try some of these ideas:
Blitz your yogurt with chickpeas or white beans for a delicious spread
Serve a dollop over grilled lamb
Use on your sandwich instead of mayo
Mix with garlic and a chipotle pepper and top a quesadilla
Add a dollop to soup
Use it in baked goods, or whip it with powdered sugar as icing
Make a fruit smoothie

It was a short and busy summer and the fall is starting in a similar time-pressed fashion. While the weather has been a tease all month, I have to give up the pretense of summer when Fall Harvest Festivals, pumpkin patches, fall colors, and thoughts of Thanksgiving creep into the scene (and because I actually broke out the winter jacket over the weekend). I went into summer with so many projects in my field of vision, and while I am happy to say I completed most, my Just Braise time was sacrificed.

I have a backlog of photos I am wanting to share, and rather than pretend they all happened “last week” of whenever I post them, I decided to get the bulk of them out here now for everyone to enjoy. Round 2 in a few days with a possible Round 3 to follow.

With promises to keep my voice alive, here are some post-summer musings….

1) Corn.
D likes to claim he’s a southern boy when it comes to pork (he grew up in Virginia) and a mid-west boy when it comes to corn (his mother’s side is from Indiana). So when I queried D on what we should include in our city community garden plot, back when planting was a vision, corn was a must (the pig would have to wait for our own land). We didn’t know much about growing corn (or anything else) when we decided to plant it– We had heard something about tasseling, but upon speaking with our CSA farmers, decided that was something boys in Indiana cornfields do for a few pennies for some arcane reason no one could be sure of.

Other hints we received before planting:
(1) At least 12 stalks are ideal to get pollination going, and therefore create kernels.
(2) Small plots of corn like to be planted in squares– not rows– rows are for large fields, think pollination.

Some hints we did not receive– and didn’t research enough before planting:
(1) In small spaces, to avoid cross-pollination, you should plant all one corn variety– OR– early season and late season corn to avoid cross-pollination. The above picture is two of our different corn varieties with minimal cross-pollination. D and I planted 4 different corn varieties, 4 stalks of each variety– oops.
(2) Tasseling is what boys in Indiana cornfields do to prevent cross-pollination. (There might be machines these days that do this if needed though most farmers plant all one variety.)
(3) There does exist early-season, mid-season, and late-season corn. Let’s explain this a little. As first time gardeners, and not doing much garden reading before actually planting anything, much of our knowledge base was our own common sense, and anything we could ask others without being a pest. I always thought of August as corn month and therefore thought all corn was harvested in August. Apparently, we had an early corn variety and while I waited for August to roll around before picking any corn, I grew upset at one of our varieties that began to die in late July. Why? It was an early variety that was done producing. So while D was upstate for 3 weeks working and I was tending the garden, all I could think of was something is wrong with this one stupid corn variety. We’re not planting it next year. Eventually I realized it was early season corn and when D asked me why didn’t you pick it? My response was, what else? Because it wasn’t August.
(3) There does exist dwarf corn and tall corn varieties. And I now realize this is true for many other plants. Not only did I grow angry at our one corn variety that decided to die in July, I was also upset at it because it grew to a puny 4 feet while our other corn shot to a commanding 7 or 8 feet.

Lessons learned?
While D claims to not want to plant corn next year I may override his decision. This year was a learning year. Next year’s single variety will thrive!

2) Tomatoes.
Tomatoes can be beautiful things. I didn’t like them too much as a child unless they were in a sandwich, but see beyond the front pictured bowl to all those colorful objects? Tomatoes! Spectacular. If I had known all these tomatoes as a child I can only imagine the edible art I would have created with them.

Not by any means did D and I grow all these– but we did eat all these. In eating, we decided for the most part, all tomatoes have the same general flavor, though textures vary, and okay, some may have a more lemony acid or perhaps have more sweetness. We also decided that this pictured tomato is our absolute favorite. It was like a firecracker of color sliced open and we want more!

How we came upon the great tomato bounty: On one of our journeys to the East End of Long Island D and I (with my mother in tow) stopped at a roadside farm stand. Not just any farm stand– this woman sold heirloom tomatoes and that’s pretty much it (except for some garlic and small amounts of miscellaneous vegetables). Everyone we saw swerve off the road was there for the tomatoes, and with good reason.

They were beautiful specimens to behold and D and I made our round through her 40 or so boxes brimming with these shining, slightly imperfect orbs, careful to select one of each variety for taste and texture comparisons.

As we checked out we made sure the woman told us each and every variety. Most we could not remember, for more than a few days, but I can still remember (in partial) my favorites. Pictured is Big German (or something to that nature). I also loved the Cherokee Purple– and an Italian variety the farmer kissed, called an Italian Pear, and placed in our bag. Splendid.

3) Cucumbers.
I planted these cucumbers purely for their lovely name: Lemon Cucumber. Also, for their description as being a beautiful lemon yellow (when overripe) but also small baseball-sized fruits, making ideal pickling cucumbers. I thought this was a lovely picture of our cucumbers in their brine bath, all the same variety, just some more ripe than others.

Brine bath? Instead of a quick pickling method of vinegar, salt and sugar, I bought a crock pot and we brined these cucumbers on our counter, covered with a solution of 3 tablespoons sea salt to 1 liter water with added seasonings: dill, hot pepper flakes, coriander, mustard, pepper and garlic. Left for at least 4 weeks gently covered with a dish towel, these cucumbers naturally produced enough good bacteria, fermenting their way into pickles.

Really it sounds totally terrifying to leave something on the counter to ferment, but really, these pickles were some of the most delicious and unique pickles I have tasted– and many friends that took the dare to taste them agreed.

The biggest problem with air-fermented pickles is that they produce a scum on the surface of the water that needs to be skimmed daily. Sadly, there were 3 or 4 days in a row we forgot to skim the scum and while the pickles appeared, smelled and tasted okay, I think whatever bacteria that was left those days to reproduce might have taken over. A few days ago D and noticed their firm texture was slowly giving way to mush.

Over the weekend D and I gravely transfered our mushy pickles into the food processor and turned them into relish, filling a 1 quart jar. D added his own blend of seasonings– some honey and mustard, and left them overnight. Checking the seasonings, D declared them satisfactory. Sounds like hotdogs are in our future.

Lessons Learned: A 3 gallon crock pot holds a lot of pickles. Don’t save them– When pickles are at their peak, eat them!

My local organics food store carries goat milk. For weeks I toyed with the idea of buying some, but ended with a pause, wondering what I would do with it. When I grew up, it was always a glass of milk at dinner, but these days I reach for water (or wine)– all essential to mind and body health and vitality. I use (cow) milk to silken an occasional omelette, in coffee, or to make ice cream or a milk shake. I always think, what would I do with goat milk? (Although I admit a goat milk, lavender and honey ice cream has been on my mind.)

A few weeks ago I was at a friend’s home and was offered goat milk. Really? So I tried it and all I could think of was that I was drinking liquid goat cheese, or chevre. Interesting. D suggested mixing in some honey and cinnamon. It became a deliciously sweet spiced concoction with that slight, but unmistakable goat cheese “barnyard” undertone of sweet hay and Earth.

When an opportunity arose to acquire some raw goat milk I thought I would give it a try. Not necessarily to drink, but perhaps make that ice cream, some chevre, or yogurt. I bought the cultures and when the coin toss came to pass, yogurt won out.

Though of course like anything homemade, I thoroughly enjoyed my goat yogurt over any yogurts I have had in the past, though the recipe needs some experiment.

Why?

Yogurt most of us are accustomed to on the market has added thickeners (tapioca, citrus pulp, cornstarch, or other synthetic agents) added to make them a thick and even consistency– not to mention sugars. If you have bought yogurt that does not use thickeners, you’ll notice it is much thinner, and sometimes even lumpy. To make the consistency weightier, without thickeners, producers will often drain the product, losing a lot of whey in the process.

I have heard if you heat the milk to a higher temperature before adding culture it gets thicker, but when using raw milk products, you run the risk of killing heat sensitive bacteria that makes milk digestible.

It is something that is by no means perfect. I would love a thick yogurt, without the use of heat– a more Greek style yogurt. Perhaps I need to grab a flight to Greece and learn from a grandmother.

Until then, I enjoy my yogurt with granola, a scoop of my own grandmother’s preserves, or simply as a yogurt beverage, full of all those great probiotics.

If you are interested in making your own yogurt, it is fairly simple. All you need are some cultures to get you started (recipe is dependent on the culture you use). Raw milk or a high quality organic milk is recommended.

An important garden lesson: you cannot stop a cucumber plant from going crazy– Actually, you cannot stop any vining plant from clinging and climbing wherever it sees fit. But let’s talk cucumbers.

I planted an heirloom variety known as lemon cucumber. Lemon because the resulting fruit is fairly lemon shaped and ripen from light green to a bright lemon yellow. When I checked on the plant two Fridays ago there were a number of flowers waiting to burst with fruit. I left for a week to visit D in upstate New York terrified I would miss out on a massive cucumber harvest. (Seriously, I had three different dreams about lost or unattended garden bounty.)

While upstate, I purchased a beautiful 3-gallon ceramic crock pot from a lovely antique dealer– really a gift for all those cucumbers ready to spring to life. When D and I returned Sunday we headed to the garden for our first massive harvest: corn, tomatoes, cucumbers, eggplant and ever more basil.

We’re overflowing with cucumbers now and decided to take action. Garden cucumbers head to the crock for brining and CSA cucumbers get crock treatment or turned into the great little snack you see pictured above. I’ll provide a picture of the brined cucumbers once the pickles are (hopefully) tasty and ready for the camera.

Until then, satisfy your cucumber (and tomato) bounty with this fresh and easy snack. I used a hearty cranberry-walnut bread as the base. Any other good bread will do, or go without bread, using the cucumber as a base. Top with any fresh herb and voila, a tasty garden treat.

Cucumber Bites
Serving Size= 5 piece. Prep time= 5 minutes.
5 small slices, or 2 larger slices cut small of cranberry-walnut bread
1 cucumber, sliced 1/2-inch thick
1 vine ripe tomato, sliced 1/2-inch thick
salt/ pepper to taste
5 slices, 1/4-inch thick, feta
fresh thyme for garnish (parsley, chives, parsley or cilantro will work too)
lemon spritz (optional)

Method: Toast bread until golden. Layer bread with cucumber and tomato. Season with salt and pepper then top with feta and a sprinkle of herbs. Add a spritz of lemon over top for some added zip.

The other week I mentioned my search for wontons in Chinatown that brought me to the treasured mangosteen. My desire for wonton soup must have been fate to find my true fruit love. But this pull must also mean that these little dumplings are truly blessed and a perfect treat for the Chinese New Year that started this past Thursday.

Where did this sudden desire for wontons come if not from the pull of the mangosteen?

A few weeks ago I was talking with a friend in my Community Supported Agriculture group. Many of the members are currently in a winter share, comprised of storage vegetables like beets, celeriac, carrots and cabbage. It is amazing to have the opportunity to buy local and in season in the winter, but the real challenge is finding unique ways through 25 pounds of 5 or 6 kinds of vegetables! So when this friend mentioned she was making wontons, without asking what she put in them, my mind was working and I knew they were too good to pass up. Off I ran to pick up some no-hassle wonton wrappers.

These days, wonton wrappers are available in many specialty supermarkets in the refrigerated section. I go to Chinatown because they have a larger selection from various producers, as well as shapes (circular or square). For these wonton wrappers, I found a local New York City producer that only uses flour, water and eggs to make the noodle (no MSG or other hard to pronounce additives). In addition, I picked up a young ginger and some scallions to complete the flavor profile I was after.

While most supermarkets carry fresh ginger rhizomes (not roots), young ginger is harder to find, but well worth the effort. The taste is sweeter, less bitter and has less of an astringent bite compared to regular ginger. It is also less fibrous and can be slivered into soups or salads for an extra kick. Young ginger has a smoother skin and a pinkish hue (not to be fooled with the pickled ginger you get with your sushi). Regular ginger (non-powdered) you find in most supermarkets will work in this recipe.

I made these wontons with ground pork, but you can make them vegetarian or with beef just as tasty. For a first time go I think these turned out fabulous. 50 wonton wrappers come in (most) packs so as I made them I assembled them on a cookie sheet to freeze and store for later. Now, whenever D wants some wonton soup he boils these wontons for 10 minutes, adds a little miso paste and dried seawood and voila, instant hearty wonton soup!

This soup is totally no-hassle as long as you have a few key ingredients.

Instead of a chicken stock base (which would be equally delicious) I used organic red miso paste, available at most Asian markets and health stores. Miso paste is made from fermented rice, barley or most often, soybeans. 1-2 teaspoons per cup of water makes a great fast soup base, but you can also use it to pickle vegetables! Red miso paste has a stronger flavor than white (which is used in most miso soup at Japanese restaurants). It is great to have around for fast soups, but also because it seems to last forever. But again, chicken or vegetable stock would taste equally delicious.

When you buy miso paste, don’t forget to pick up some dried (or fresh) seaweed. Experiment with different types, some are better for sushi rolls, others are meant to be re-hydrated in soups or for salads. My local health store carries all sorts of Wikame Eden brand. One package has lasted as long as the miso! If you don’t like seaweed, try bok choi, or stir spinach or even lettuce in there before serving (hey, why not).

As for the wontons, I wanted to use some of my winter storage vegetables so this was a key ingredient. All the recipes I found for wontons contained a basic meat, ginger and garlic trio, most added some soy sauce. Play around and find a flavor combination that works for you.

Wonton Soup
Serving Size= 2. Active time= 5 minutes. Inactive time= 12 minutes.

• 6-8 wontons (see recipe below)
• 4 teaspoons miso paste (available at most Asian or health markets)
• 2 strands dried Wikame seaweed
• 1-2 scallions

1) Bring 4 cups unsalted water to a boil. While the water is coming up to temperature, prepare the bowls.
2) Slice scallion into 1/4 inch slivers and cut seaweed into 1 inch pieces. Divide the scallion and seaweed between the two bowls. Add 2 teaspoons miso paste to each bowl.
3) When water is boiling, remove 1/2 cup of the liquid and set aside. Add wontons to the boiling water, cover, and boil for 8-10 minutes. Divide the 1/2 cup liquid between the two bowls and use a spoon to help break down the miso paste. Make sure the seaweed is covered. Set aside.
4) When the wontons are done, divide them between the bowls and add the boiling water over top. Serve hot.

Pork and Vegetable Wontons
Serving Size= 50 wontons. Active time= 1 hour.
This was my first time making wontons and I found once I developed a rhythm I could stuff them a little plumper and work a littler faster. I followed a technique similar to the one in this YouTube video, but you can make them by a simple one fold method and not worry about getting fancy.

• 2 carrots, shredded
• 1 celeriac, shredded
• 1/4 head of cabbage, shredded
• 4 scallions, sliced into 1/4 inch pieces
• 1 pound lean ground pork
• 2 teaspoons minced ginger
• 3-4 cloves minced garlic
• 1 tablespoon soy sauce
• 2 teaspoons chili flakes (optional, or what you think is best)
• 50 wonton wrappers

1) Peel the celeriac and carrot and use a food processor to shred these and the cabbage. Transfer to a large bowl and add the remaining ingredients. Mix the ingredients with your hands to evenly incorporate.
2) Assemble a cutting board in front of you, the wonton wrappers, a small dish of water and a cookie sheet (if you plan to freeze the wontons).
3) Assemble wontons: Place one wrapper on the cutting board. Dip your fingers in the water and rim the edges with a little water. Place one heaping teaspoon of filling in the middle of the wrapper, fold in half once and push out the air and seal. Finish there, or push the center filling in slightly and fold two corners onto each other to form a sort of hat. Continue until all the wrappers are used, assembling them on a cookie sheet to freeze (eat remaining filling in a small burger!). Once the cookie sheet is filled, cover and freeze. Once frozen, transfer to a freezer storage bag for a tasty wonton treat (steamed or boiled) whenever you’re in a pinch for time!
Note:See the YouTube video link above for a step-by-step video of the process (not mine), but it is easier to visualize- sorry, I didn’t have additional un-porked hands to handle the camera!

A little less talking and a little more cooking, eh?

Feast your eyes on the image above. Very fresh looking, right? This meal was so good I could stare at this photo to remember it all year. I won’t bore you with nothing while I drool, so let us continue.

Before I continue, don’t forget to sign up for the Just Braise email blast. Get Just Braise emailed to your inbox every night after an item is posted. You can still leave comments, see photos and even listen to the post. Just fill your email address in the blank to the right and hit “subscribe me!” Now to the good stuff.

A few weeks back I ordered a slab of pork belly from one of the farmers associated with my Community Supported Agriculture program. The pork these folks raise is tremendous. D and I always stuck with the pork chops, frankly because they are fast and easy. Truly, I cannot remember when I have had such delicious pork. Always juicy and full of flavor, it is what pork should be. So I finally ventured into the realm of belly.

D and I had the opportunity to visit this farm over the summer. It was fabulous to see not only our pigs, but also our cattle (they also raise grass-fed beef) in action, knowing what we purchase is actually what we are told. (Rather than “free-range”– what does that really mean?!) It is also an amazing opportunity to not only speak to the person who raises your food, but see their practices. Admittedly, to see these animals and think, “I’m going to eat you next month!” is sort of twisted in our modern detachment of food systems. (Going to our CSA’s vegetable farm and noting all the vegetables soon to enter my belly was much more hilarious.)

Our gracious host had us safely in her car as we careened around the 400 plus acreage, showing off vista points, watering holes and different grasses the cattle eat. Next stop was the pig field for feeding time. As we opened the second floor to the barn we saw the pigs in the distance, racing as a seemingly wild pack out of the distant trees for their feed. “They eat a lot of grub and whatever they find in the woods,” N explained, “but we give them a little more protein and grain as supplement.”

With that, she dropped a bucket of grain from the second floor, crashing on and around the pigs, who well, went hog wild pigging out. Piglets were shoved to the outer circle picking at scraps while the more assertive animals took center stage. Once feeding had subsided the pigs headed off to a small pond to retreat in the cooling waters, “Miami Beach,” N noted.

Back to the belly of the matter…

Pork belly comes from the same cut as bacon, though bacon has been smoked or cured. Pork belly is fresh, uncured meat, just as fatty good as bacon. (Mmmm, bacon.) The cut is ideal for braising. The technique leaves the skin crisp, fat oozing and the flesh velvety soft. If you can manage all three in one bite, try not to fall out of your chair as you swoon.

For this cut I adapted a spice rub I found online and braised it about 4 hours. The pork was served as an appetizer at a dinner party that was picked at throughout the night. I was lucky enough to stash away a few pieces for lunch the next day, bulked up as you see it, with rice, pickled daikon radish, fresh carrots, scallions and cilantro. The result? Really, a picture says a thousand words. I’ll just say one more: divine.

I made the daikon radish a day prior to the dinner party. The pickled radish played the perfect part to accent the pork’s flavor and cut through the fat. The only problem? Pickled daikon radish has a horrendous smell. Think men’s used gym socks. But, like many other things that can produce a horrific funk (think some wines), once you overcome your initial fear you’ll be glad you took the plunge.

Do not be daunted by these recipes. They are simple to make and most of the involvement is inactive time. It is a fabulous dish to make on a weekend lounging around the home.

Pickled Daikon Radish
Adapted from epicurious
Serving Size= About 1 radish per 3 persons. Active time= 8 minutes. Inactive time= 24 hours.
daikon radish
equal parts plain white vinegar and sugar
1/4 part salt

1) Julienne the daikon radish (cut into matchstick thin slices) and place in a non-reactive container.
2) Add equal parts white vinegar and sugar until just covered, add 1/4 the amount of salt (to the vinegar quantity).
3) Mix, cover and refrigerate for at least 24 hours before serving.

Braised Pork Belly
Adapted from Dan Barber
Serving Size= 6 persons. Active time= 10 minutes. Inactive time= 8 hours.
1 -3 pound pork belly
4 cups chicken stock or water
2 cups cure mix:
1/4 cup fennel seeds
1/4 cup cumin seeds
1/4 cup ground coriander
1 tablespoon fresh ground black pepper
2 tablespoons ground cinnamon
2 teaspoons whole cloves
1 cup salt
2/3 cup sugar

1) Make cure mix, using fresh whole seeds and grinding, if possible.
2) Rub mix all over pork belly, cover and refrigerate 4 hours.
3) Preheat oven to 250F. Remove pork belly, rinse the cure mix off lightly, place pork in pan and pour in chicken stock, without fully covering the pork. Cook for 4-5 hours.
4) Remove from braising pan, drain, slice and serve.

To Finish the Dish as Above
Serving size= 2 persons. Active time= 10 minutes. Inactive time=30 minutes plus pork belly
1/2 cup uncooked rice, white or brown (I used Basmati)
1 carrot, sliced into matchstick slices
1/4 cup cilantro, chopped
1 scallion, thinly sliced
pickled daikon radish
red chili flakes
pork belly

1) In the last half hour of cooking, make rice and prepare vegetables.
2) Assemble rice on plates, add sliced pork belly over top, a scoop of pickled daikon radish. Divide carrots, scallions and cilantro sprinkled over top. Finish with a pinch of red chili flakes.