“Rich, sweet, composed.” “Sweet, buttery, elegant.” “Full, nutty, complex”.

Portland Roasting enticingly describes their coffees much in the way I would like to describe my men. Although, somehow I think the most recent socially engaged bean, “self-absorbed, lacking substance, egotistical” would not be a popular sell at the coffee shop.

Unlike the men, Portland Roasting coffees always deliver. The above descriptions apply to their Organic Dark Sumatra, Goose Hollow, and Guatemalan offerings – each so complex, expertly roasted and eminently drinkable that I find it difficult to select just one for my morning cup. I may have shed tears upon the first sip of Goose Hollow. Or dropped to my knees. Or screamed “Holy *#@!balls” as my friend, Carol Blymire, had. Or maybe I did none of those things, but absolutely considered them all as worthy options for expressing the delight I took in savoring that cup.

I feel good in supporting  Portland Roasting because while they can coax a coffee bean to roasty perfection, they are also a company with huge heart. Portland Roasting recently landed the #55 spot on Oregon Business Top Green Companies list in large part due to their Farm Friendly Direct program of which Papua New Guinea’s literacy program is just one of many. Tree planting, construction of water treatment facilities and water pumps, community centers, and schools are several other heartfelt, worldwide community ventures.

Special thanks to @MyManMartin

More heart flutter: while recently in Portland for the IACP Conference, through the beauty of again, Carol Blymire, and twitter, I met the dapper, Joe Yonan, fellow coffee aficionado and food editor of The Washington Post. Convening at Heart Roasters, we shared a *WOW SEMINAL COFFEE MOMENT* siphon pot of Tanzania Peaberry and food synergies. The outcome of that chance meeting was a new friendship and my hire to work some “recipe triage” on Joe’s first cookbook: Serve Yourself: Nightly Adventures in Cooking For One.

I’m thrilled for Joe, and can’t wait for the spring 2011 release from Ten Speed Press. Cooking for one is  a dear subject, as I share custody with my daughter and often find myself with an empty nest and a desire to cook. Just for one. The book serves as a reminder to feed and treat yourself well –  the contents are bursting with creative, big-flavored, fully accessible recipes and the title of each fairly makes my mouth water with anticipation. As I type, his Korean-inspired short ribs (destined for a unique twist on tacos), are braising in exotic sweet and savory flavors and the house smells incredible. I believe Joe will allow me to soon give a sneak-peak recipe on the blog, so stay tuned…

These fun hipstamatic coffee pictures on this post are from a recent Triangulation coffee cupping I attended with new friend, Lizzy (another connection by way of PDX – crazy!), held at the West 9th St. branch of Phoenix Coffee Cafe´. If you are a coffee lover at any level of enjoyment, a cupping will definitely hone your senses towards a deeper appreciation for the roasted and liquified bean. In a Triangulation tasting, three cups of ground beans are presented – two being the identical, one different. The goal is to detect the odd  cup by smell and taste. It’s definitely trickier than it sounds, and forces you to pay attention to minute characteristics generally passed by in drinking a casual cup, much in the same way a guided wine tasting alerts your senses to specific nuances. Notes taken reflect the aromas and tastes of ” blueberry, potato, wet dirt, leather, bourbon”, among others. Smell and taste alter as the grinds change from dry to wet.

The summer cuppings at the West 9th location take place at 3:00 on Saturdays and are gratis. I believe all of the Phoenix location offer cuppings – why none of this information is available for perusing on their website is curious.

And, thanks to Joe Yonan’s suggestion, my new favored way of brewing coffee at home is with the Clever Coffee Dripper from Sweet Maria’s. Combining the best attributes of the French press and pour-over methods, this inexpensive piece of equipment has instantly earned a place of top billing in my kitchen. Twenty two grams of freshly ground beans, one and a half cups of water just off the boil and four minutes later I have a hot mug of perfect, caffeinated rise and shine.

” I had some dreams they were clouds in my coffee, clouds in my coffee, and…”

My latest edition of The Spice Trade is posted over at Ohio Authority, Ohio’s premier online magazine.

Wednesday evening, April 21. IACP 2010 Opening Reception: The ballroom of the very zexxxy The Nines was alive and buzzing with energy emitting from many of the 900 attendees of the 32^nd annual IACP Conference held in the fantastic host city of Portland, Oregon. The large main room was jumping with guests exalted practically to the point of levitation by ex-IACP president Scott Givot’s cry for “A New Culinary Order”. The celebration, was simply stellar.

Each bite, every sip, a dazzling representation of Portland’s local bounty. Delectable, creative offerings from restaurants, food carts, brewers, wineries, artisan distillers, coffee roasters and single-crop producers available at short reach – this was sensory overload of the Pacific Northwestern kind, and hands-down one of the best cocktail parties I’ve ever attended. Introductions were made and the schmooze festivities kicked into high gear. I mingled, nibbled, drank, talked, embraced, strolled, and mostly tried not to spill on anyone as my hands were full and the crowd was dense. At some point, I found welcome breathing room as I squidged myself into a spot near an exit door adjacent to a attractively dressed table from  Courtney Sproule of Din Din Club & Catering.

“Yellowfoot Mushroom and Spring Onion Custard on Hazelnut Shortbread with Miner’s Lettuce” read the card on the table. Plucking an hor d’oeuvres, I savored and swooned in my little corner of calm reverie over the rich mushroomy, velvet custard placed on the tiniest square of thin, crisp hazelnut pancetta fat-bound shortbread, crowned with a green tiara of lightly dressed miner’s lettuce. One small, perfect mouthful held exquisite layers of flavor and spoke years of accomplished technique from this young lady. The kind of extraordinary bite that made me further appreciate the quietude I stole in the midst of an equally extraordinary party.

As I stood there with a glass of Oregon wine, a small plate of plump, sweet kumamoto oysters and this singular perfect piece of finger food – my microcosm of edible, local, Oregon – I had an opportunity to again recognize there is nothing better than the moment. It’s all we ever really have. Thank you, Portland and IACP for five days filled with dearly cherished “moments”; I am grateful.

I was so intensely smitten with the din din appetizer that I wrote  Courtney the next day to thank her and to beg ask for the recipe. She delightedly acquiesced to my request, and also informed me that she coordinated the spectacular event – impressed doubly, I am.

My adaptation of Courtney’s recipe (originally inspired by her favorite mushroom soup), from a finger food in great proportion to single servings of custard makes for a beautiful lunch with a salad of lightly dressed local greens, chives, chopped toasted hazelnuts and additional sauteed mushrooms. The custard is smooth and luxurious – think mushroom pots de creme. For an extra-decadent version, serve each portion with a gilding of  heavy pouring cream, some chopped toasted nuts and tarragon leaves – divine.

Although there is much mise to the recipe, it can be assembled leisurely over the course of several days. In fact, I did this around my work schedule preparing the stock one day , mushroom prep the next and brought everything together on a third day. With some planning, it is entirely possible to cook well around a busy schedule.

In the spirit of din din and the IACP Conference, I shopped at my local farmer’s market which meant using Killbuck oyster mushrooms and green garlic in place of yellowfoot mushrooms and spring onions. Wonderful, still.

Wild Mushroom and Green Garlic Custards

Adapted via Heidi Robb from Chef Courtney Sproule of din din

Yield: approximately 16

¾ lb. wild mushrooms (I used a mix of brown and white oyster)

1 quart stock – beef, chicken, or vegetable (Courtney recommended beef stock made on top of chicken stock, which I did to delicious effect)

¾ oz. package dried porcini mushrooms

1 cup boiling water

2 tablespoons butter

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

Sea salt to taste

2 green garlic, bulbs and tender green stalks thinly sliced

1 plump clove garlic, minced

2 Tablespoons chopped fresh tarragon

1 tablespoon butter

Rind of parmesan

1 cup half and half

1 tablespoon Madeira or dry sherry

4 organic eggs plus 4 yolks

Garnish: lightly dressed baby greens, fleur de sel, cracked pepper, sautéed tiny mushrooms, chopped roasted hazelnuts.

Preheat oven to 275, center rack.

Trim and brush the wild mushrooms clean and tear into thin, equal sized pieces. Heat the two tablespoons each butter and oil in sauté pan over medium-low heat, add mushrooms and a sprinkling of salt. Sweat mushrooms gently in their own juices until they cook dry, begin to color and develop deep flavor. Taste and check for seasoning – it’s good practice to season all recipe components as you go.

Place porcini in a heat proof bowl and reconstitute with the boiling water. Let stand twenty minutes. Lift porcini out of the liquid and chop coarsely. Place mushrooms in a small pan and pour the porcini liquid over, being careful to leave any residual grit at the bottom of the bowl. Cook at a gentle simmer with a pinch of salt until the porcini are dry and flavorful.

Heat the one tablespoon butter in small pan over low heat and sweat the green garlic with a sprinkle of salt until completely sweet and soft. Long and low heat develops the flavor best – avoid browning.

Combine stock, mushrooms and green garlic in a pot and bring to a very gentle simmer. Add the parmesan rind and simmer low for 20-30 minutes to marry flavors. Remove from heat and allow to cool 10-15 minutes. Stir in the chopped tarragon and garlic.

Add vegetables to blender or Vita-Mix, enough to fill container 1/3 of the way. Add twice as much liquid and blend. Continue this way, blending in batches if necessary (a Vita-Mix has the capacity for the entire batch), until the vegetable fibers have broken down completely and the mixture is smooth, light and ethereal. Blend in the half and half – the mixture should have the texture of thick heavy cream, or a crème Anglaise. Taste and season with salt, and finish with the Madeira and gratings of nutmeg.

Whisk the eggs and yolks together in a large bowl, and slowly whisk in the blended mushroom mixture until well-combined. You will end up with approximately 2 quarts of rich and creamy mushroom mixture. Taste, and again correct seasoning if necessary. Transfer mixture to pitcher and pour into buttered 4 oz. ramekins lineup in one or two roasting or hotel pans. Place pan(s) in the oven and add boiling water 1/3 up the ramekins and bake until they are just set –about 30 minutes. There will still be a gentle quiver at the center of the custards. Cool the custards in the warm water on a rack. You can serve the custards once cooled, or develop flavor further with a rest overnight in the refrigerator. Let custards come to room temperature and serve with optional garnishes.

Some background from Courtney Sproule on din din: “din din began in 2007 as a monthly dinner open to the public – like a dinner party but with strangers taking place in changing venues around Portland. din din has expanded to offer catering services, bringing the fun and fluid spirit of its public dinners to your private events.”

Courtney values the responsibility of doing right by the diverse local ingredients available in Portland, and enjoys developing relationships with local producers, and sharing the jewels of the region with guests from outside.

In the greater Cleveland area, I’m looking forward to tasting catering presented with a similar sensibility from Chef Mary Wills of The Good Fork: “Fresh, local and seasonal is the foundation upon which The Good Fork is built. We are committed to providing simple, sustainable and green culinary options for weddings, corporate events and a plethora of other scenarios. Reducing our carbon footprint is our priority, we are able to do that by purchasing as locally as possible and supporting a green approach to the preparation of your food.”

P.S. Thank you to friend Carol Blymire, not with me in Portland, but through the magic of the twitterverse, ensured that I had great coffee to drink and outstanding company to share it with.

The above comments were printed in the LETTERS column of the August, 2009 edition of the now, sadly defunct, Gourmet magazine while under the direction of then-editor, Ruth Reichl.

I read that chilling perspective last summer while on a plane back home to Cleveland from New York, where I had just reveled and indulged in so many of that great American citys expanse of ethnic food offerings. I remember feeling Ms. Marroso’s ( am I putting myself out there by guessing this is not the surname of a native American?), words as stinging, intolerant, racist. Tears puddled in my eyes. Sad. I wondered how many readers felt the same disdain for the introduction of global ingredients into the common culinary vernacular, a trend I find inspired and unifying, a trend gaining momentum that begs us to make a connection over our country’s rich micro-cultures of food.

In the same issue, I also read (and have many times since re-read), Francis Lam’s incredibly fine piece of culinary journalism, The Last Chinese BBQ. The content is a loving ode to Toronto Chinese BBQ pig-master, Jacques Wong. Lam’s piece also stirred many emotions as the obvious heart-felt respect dedicated to one man’s cultural craft played such stark and moving contrast to the bitterly snide words written in that letter to the editor. The tears now plopped onto the pages. I went through quite a few tissues on that short flight – thankyouverymuch, Gourmet.

So, as I attended the 2010 IACP Gala Awards Ceremony in the magnificent city of Portland, Oregon, I perhaps applauded the loudest and the most enthusiastically when Francis Lam’s, The Last Chinese BBQ, won the Bert Greene award for Culinary Writing: Restaurant and/or Chef with or without Recipes. Tears came, yes, but this time they were expressing emotions of joy. Of hope.

Congratulations, Francis Lam.

As of the folding of Gourmet, Francis Lam has been writing for the fine online magazine, SALON. You can read his award winning , The last Chinese BBQ, here.

itunes has free podcasts available from the 2010 IACP conference. I urge you to listen to former Gourmet editor, Ruth Reichl as she addresses the demise of Gourmet, as well as a long-term culinary vision.

Also a must-listen is Michael Ruhlman’s provocative conversation on why cooking is fundamental to our humanity.

My mother always told me that she found the act of cleaning and preparing vegetables therapeutic. At the time of that statement, as I watched her remove hundreds of tiny, hair-like roots from a huge mound of creamy white bean sprouts destined for a hot blast in the wok, I didn’t quite get it. More than likely, I believed that she was marginally insane  for her endeavor – I was hardwired  into the “typical teen” stage, and what mom considered a zen moment appeared in my estimation to be little more than a snooze of a thankless task.

Fast forward –  a life of bustling days and equally full nights often crams my brain with what I imagine mimics the chattering din of a thousand maniacal monkeys. At times like this I’ll channel my mother and turn to the vegetable drawer for peaceful green deliverance.

Tender, sweet artichoke hearts, covered in their many-leaved layers of thorny armor, are the reward for a little bit of patience and simple knowledge of technique. Once exposed and cleaned the cooking applications are plentiful – shaved raw, braised, roasted, sautéed, fried and grilled. With a little bit of practice the preparation quickly becomes familiar routine.

Somehow, I can’t help but consider the act of thoughtful, deliberate peeling away of the outer protective layers to get to the heart as a life metaphor – an opportunity for discovery which leads to the sweetest meat of all. Thanks, Mom.

Crispy Roasted Artichokes

These artichokes emerge from their time in a hot oven so deliciously, so perfectly crisp that you would almost think they had spent time in the deep fryer. I like to leave the outer leaves of the heart left longish and not trimmed close to the base; pieces that roast to a frizzly crackling crunch which play as contrast in texture to the tender, meatier heart.

Ingredients:

2 tightly packed large globe artichokes

4 large, plump cloves of garlic peeled and halved lengthwise

3 tbs. extra virgin olive oil

Fine sea salt

Embellishments:

Minced fresh herbs

Squeeze fresh lemon juice

Grated lemon or orange zest

Red chili flakes or minced fresh chilis

Coarse sea salt

Coarsely ground black pepper

Drizzle olive oil

Procedure:

Preheat  oven to 400.

Rinse and drain the artichokes. Have ready a bowl containing the olive oil and garlic cloves. Working one at a time, cut off the top off of the artichoke about one third of the way down. Trim the stem to about ½”. Start peeling away the outer leaves of the artichoke, continuing until you reveal the pale inner green leaves. Pare ragged edges from the outer heart where the leaves were snapped off. Halve the artichoke lengthwise, exposing the inner hairy choke and deep purple leaves. Remove both with the aid of a teaspoon. Cut off any remaining thorny tips. Slice each artichoke half into four wedges – each piece should include some stem, heart and attached leaves, (any errant strips of leaves roast extra crispy – make sure to include them). As you cut wedges, drop them in the bowl of oil and turn to coat. To the artichokes, add the garlic, some sprinkles of sea salt and turn all to coat.

Tip  artichokes and garlic into a small roasting pan to accommodate them comfortably in one layer. Roast 20 minutes. The artichokes will be turning a golden brown. Give the contents a stir, and continue roasting another 20 minutes – they will become very dark and even blackened in some spots – this is what you want.

Turn out into a bowl and embellish the hearts further with a grating of citrus zest, a dusting of herbs, a pinch of chili, and a sprinkle and grinding of salt and pepper.

Plate, and finish with a drizzle of oil and/or a squeeze of fresh lemon juice.

I’m thrilled that Ohio Authority (with a special nod to editors Ivan Sheehan and Sarah Sphar), Ohio’s premier online magazine, has taken me on board to pen The Spice Trade, a new monthly column. With contributions stemming from a multi-talented community of informed writers, Ohio Authority keeps a knowing finger pressed to the pulse of what’s happening right NOW in Ohio –  I’m feeling both honored and grateful to be included in this fine effort.

I  invite you to make a voyage over to The Spice Trade. This month we’ll explore  Chinese ingredients in the Asian markets accompanied by a simply delicious recipe. A recipe, yes, always a recipe…it’s my life, of course.

Twitter follow:

Ohio Authority: @ohioauthority

Heidi Robb: @heidi_robb

April showers brought May flowers, and also the long-awaited release of Steven Raichlen’s Planet Barbecue: 275 Recipes, 53 Countries, 6 Continents of Great Flavors. Steven, his assistant Nancy, myself and a couple of other conscientious crew busted out the recipe-testing portion of the book while tucked away in the lush tropical enclave of Coconut Grove, Miami, last March.

Aside from Steven’s obvious passion, impressive breadth of knowledge and unwavering enthusiasm for foods produced from charcoal-fueled implementation, I was taken with the extensive global research devoted to the project. The end result is a masterful compilation of 275 unique recipes stemming from humans’ most primal form of cooking – with fire. The recipes and techniques will guide as you transform hot, licking flames into delectable smoke-kissed, mostly simple to execute, yet often sophisticated, dishes assured to please any palate on the planet.

Case in point is this Colombian recipe for grilled plantains, easily one of my favorites from the testing session. The plaintains natural sugars caramelize during their time on the grill, guava paste adds another element of fruity sweetness, and the soft, warm cheese adds a contrasting piquant bite of salt which indeed elevates this dish of gooey goodness to sophisticated heights. The whipped cream is a gentle cooling fillip, as would be a scoop of vanilla ice cream or drizzles of crema fresca.

Although the recipe states as a yield four servings, this is a hearty dessert, and depending on the size of the preceding meal, IMHO, four grilled, cheese-stuffed plantains could easily satisfy eight.

GRILLED SWEET PLANTAINS OR BANANAS
WITH GUAVA AND SALTY CHEESE

Source: Planet Barbecue by Steven Raichlen (Workman, 2010)
Method: Direct or indirect grilling
*Serves: 4
Origin: Bogota, Colombia

FOR THE FRUIT:

4 very ripe plantains or large ripe bananas
6 ounces mild salty cheese such as queso blanco
6 ounces guava paste

FOR THE SPICED WHIPPED CREAM:

1 cup heavy whipping cream
3 tablespoons confectioners’ sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1 to 2 tablespoons dark rum (optional)

ADVANCE PREPARATION:

The plantains can be stuffed and the spiced whipped cream can be made up to 4 hours ahead.

Prepare the plantains or bananas: Using the tip of a sharp paring knife, make a deep lengthwise slit in the concave side of each plantain or banana.  The slit should run from one end of the fruit to the other and should be about 1-inch deep and almost to, but not through, the skin on the end.  Gently press the ends of the plantain toward the center and squeeze the sides to open the slit.

Cut the cheese into thin strips about 1-inch long and 1/4-inch thick (most queso blanco comes in 4-inch blocks, so you’ll need a couple of strips to fill each plantain).
Cut the guava paste into strips of the same size.  Stuff the cheese and guava strips into the slits in the fruit, trimming the pieces as needed to fill the plantains.

Make the spiced whipped cream: Refrigerate the metal bowl and beaters of a mixer to chill.  Place the cream in the chilled bowl and beat until soft peaks form.  Add the confectioners’ sugar, cinnamon, cloves, and rum, if using, and continue beating until stiff peaks form.  Refrigerate the whipped cream until you are ready to serve.  The recipe can be prepared to this stage up to 4 hours ahead.

Set up the grill for indirect grilling, place a drip pan in the center, and preheat the grill to medium-high (400 degrees F).  Arrange the plantains stuffed side up in the center of the grate over the drip pan and away from the heat.  The plantains should run the same direction as the bars of the grate; this will hold them upright.  Grill the plantains until they are browned on the bottom, the flesh is soft, and the cheese and guava paste are bubbling, about 30 minutes.

Transfer the plantains to a platter or plates.  Spoon the spiced whipped cream on top.  To eat, scoop the plantain flesh, cheese, and guava out of the skin.

What has Steven swaddled in this cloth and set ablaze? The answer is NOT my dirty laundry. Pick up a copy of Planet Barbecue to uncover the mystery. Books are now available for purchase from the  Barbecue Bible website and Amazon.com.

Raw goat and cows milk yogurt, golden beet and ginger kvass, various crunchy krauts and voluptuous (yes, it really is that), lacto-fermented mayonnaise are keeping the kitchen shelves, counters and refrigerator full and our bodies healthier with their benefits. All of this culturing and fermentation is much more than a kick – it has become daily habit, and as I am a do-it-yourself-er in all areas of the kitchen, it was only a matter of time before I took a  step towards home brewing and fermenting various alcoholic quaffs such as beer, meads and infusions.

Using Scott Mansfield’s non-intimidating and comprehensive guide, Strong Waters, A Simple Guide to Making Beer, Wine, Cider and Other Spirited Beverages at Home as a starting point, I was able to whisk together my first success with the Scottish cream drink of Atholl Brose (this drink is neither a fermented nor cultured beverage, but an “infusion”, in which herbs, spices or fruit are steeped in a distilled alcohol to extract their essences). Something about the combination of fresh cream, oats, honey and SCOTCH was particularly alluring and the equipment list was merely comprised of kitchen basics. No shopping required, as I had all of the ingredients in house, including new spring raw cream from grass-fed cows, and dark amber local Ohio buckwheat honey (which, in my estimation, qualifies this heady bevvie as another contender in the “healthy-ish cocktail” category – my blog, my rules!). For the whisky, I combined the contents of two ancient bottles of Chivas and Glenlivet excavated from a dusty box in the basement- this isn’t a recipe where you would want to use your prized single malts. I didn’t discern much of an oat flavor on first sipping, but as the beverage mellows, there is a round fullness one might attribute to the grains inclusion. At first week’s tasting, the drink is decidedly -WHOA- booze forward, another week of a fridge rest and the flavors started to mellow as a whole. The next week found the spirit smoother still – ready and welcome as a convivial capper to a late night Easter weekend celebration at friends.

Atholl Brose

Adapted by Heidi Robb via Scott Mansfield, author of Strong Waters

Ingredients:

1 cup old-fashioned rolled oats

3 cups water

1/4 cup (3 ounces) honey

1 cup whipping (heavy) cream

2 cups Scotch whiskey

Procedure:

1. Put the oats in a nylon straining bag (I use a paint strainer bag from the hardware store), and place the bag in a deep bowl. Add the water and let the oats steep overnight.

2. The next morning, squeeze the water out of the bag (do not expect to get a return of 3 cups liquid – there will be less), saving the oats for cooking or discard. Put the liquid in a saucepan, add the honey, and heat gently until the honey dissolves. Remove pan from heat and let cool slightly.

3. Stir in the cream, then add the whisky.

4. Refrigerate until cool before serving. The beverage will keep in the refrigerator for a couple of months, or in the freezer indefinitely.

I enjoyed this boozy concoction best served well-chilled in cordial glasses which were first filled with a touch more honey, and finished with a light grating of nutmeg. Mine also had a tendency to separate  - a vigorous shake was all it took to restore it whole.

“A Brose is a Scottish dish of oatmeal and either water or milk. This lovely version is a drink attributed to an eighteenth-century Duke of Atholl…”. There’s more to this delightful anecdote, but you’ll need to buy the book :).

During very wintery February, Kari and Herb gave us a peek into their well-cultured enterprises with the first installment of Messin’ Up the Kitchen With…. Schizophrenic Cleveland weather aside, the calendar now says “SPRING”, which triggers thoughts of fresh, green, planting, and the sweet vegetable garden in my friend Jessica’s backyard.

Jessica Jerome is one of several wonderful, amazing, inspiring, beautiful and smart, authentic women who have entered my life over the last five years –  a group of women who  know me only as Heidi Robb, and not by another surname previously affixed for too long a time. The bonds forged with these women feel as deep as those who have been with me for decades – how wonderful is that to realize you can make forever friends at any juncture in your life?

A delightful nature-loving sprite with sparkling eyes and an even more effervescent personality, Jessica draws you in and enfolds you – attributes which serve to make her an outstanding mother, wife, friend and yoga instructor (can’t wait until she soon brings aerial yoga to northeastern OH – sign me up! ). Deep convictions of wholesome, nutrient dense, fresh foods are the driving forces in her amply-stocked kitchen, she is also my ‘dairy fairy’ who provides me with a reliable source of raw milks and cream. The spacious garden in the back is ready for planting; a designated kale patch sports new fencing.

When I asked Jessica if she would like to pen a blog post, not only did she immediately acquiesce, but she found an opportunity to throw a delicious celebration. Aside from a welcoming of spring, there was friend Jen’s new house closing to acknowledge, as well as Paola’s birthday – so much reason for expressing joy. The warmth generated from that evening spent with friends, adult beverages, combined with a risotto and salad bursting with vitality of  le printemps, brought to mind the inscription of a bold silver ring worn on the middle finger of my left hand: “When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about.” -Rumi

A Celebration of Spring

Jessica Jerome

By the time crocuses show their cheery faces here in the Chagrin River Valley, the allure of root vegetables and winter greens – prepared every imaginable way – has lost its magic.  Eating local meat and dairy is simple with our herd-share from an exclusively grass-fed farm in Wayne County, Ohio, but the produce portion is a bit trickier to sustain all winter long.  When domestic organic asparagus hits the shelves at Mustard Seed Market  in March, even if it is from California, I’m planning a dish to celebrate the unfolding of Spring!

Being a huge fan of butter, wine, and chewy grain, I choose to prepare a risotto.  A warming dish that requires constant attention over a steamy pot, risotto is the perfect seasonal bridge.  I was fortunate to find fresh red onions, perfect meaty creminis, and slender crisp stalks of California asparagus.  A salad composed of several types of greens, including the late spring crop, dandelion, was the perfect compliment.  Get out your favorite heavy bottomed pot and a big wooden spoon, keep the Pinot Grigio flowing, sprinkle in some of your favorite dinner guests, and BINGO~ it is a celebration!

I’m already looking ahead to summer’s delights when I’ll be preparing this with shelling peas, garlic, chives and tarragon that will be appearing fresh from our garden…in June.

Jessica’s Celebration Risotto

Serves 4: doubles easily; feel free to improvise with seasonal substitutions

Ingredients:

2 large cloves garlic, minced

4 large shallot cloves, minced

1 medium fresh red onion, minced; reserve scallions

Butter

8 cups chicken stock

2 cups medium grain brown rice (LOVE the chewiness of brown rice here)

¾ cup drinkable Pinot Grigio (as you may finish the bottle before the stirring is over)

Approx. 2 cups coarsely chopped cremini mushrooms

2 pinches saffron threads

1 large bunch slender asparagus, cut into 1-2 inch pieces, lightly steamed

1 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

Salt and pepper to taste

Method:

Saute garlic, shallots, red onion, and a hefty pinch or two of salt (I use Redmond Real Salt) in 2 tbsp. butter until soft and very fragrant in a large, heavy saucepot over medium heat. Meanwhile, heat chicken stock to a low simmer in another saucepan. Stir rice into onion mixture, increasing heat, and stir continuously for a couple of minutes. Add wine, stirring until absorbed. Begin adding stock to rice mixture, one cup at a time, constantly stirring to prevent sticking and even absorption (realistically, I give myself a little break immediately after blending each new liquid addition).

Meanwhile: in a saute pan, saute mushrooms in an ample amount of butter and another hefty pinch of salt.  Add a splash or two of wine, and cook until mushrooms are tender, yet still meaty. Remove mushrooms from heat and add saffron threads. Mixture will be a bit saucy.

Taste rice after you’ve used about 6 cups stock, and begin adding only ½ cup at a time, testing occasionally for the perfect al dente texture.  When you’re there – perfectly firm and oh-so divine – stir in the asparagus, mushrooms, cooking a little bit more if the mushrooms have thrown off excessive juice.  Turn off heat and fold in Parmesan. Garnish with chopped scallions.

Salad:

Dandelion greens, coarsely chopped

Boston Bibb lettuce, torn

Red leaf lettuce, torn

Romaine, torn

Frisee, coarsely chopped

Small head of radicchio, chopped

A few sprigs of fresh Chervil, chopped

Picked leaves from a few sprigs of lemon thyme

Toss greens and herbs together in a large bowl.  Add your favorite tasting extra virgin olive oil, juice of ½-1 lemon, salt and freshly ground pepper.  Toss again.

Eat up and ENJOY in great company!

Perhaps the finest reason of all for roasting a fresh duck is the reward of the accumulation of unctuous, silken, flavorful fat rendered by the cooking process.

Some years ago, I was lucky enough to find myself one particular evening, seated at the cozy kitchen dinner table of friends, Linda and Fred Griffith, If you ever find yourself on the receiving end of one of their generous invitations,do not, under any circumstances, dare to decline. Dinners at Chez Griffith are always a mix of interesting company, lively conversation, good wine, and the occasional mammoth dog or cat  to navigate. But most of all, there is delicious and abundant food, mostly sourced from local farms and purveyors as Linda and Fred have been active proponents of local farmers and their agricultural endeavors long before the term ‘locavore’ was coined.

This time the gathering was on an intimate scale – I clearly remember the other guest and the bottle of ‘03 Roessler Cellars Sangiacomo Vineyards Pinot Noir I brought along, toted back from a recent trip to Napa. The entree and salad, which I’m positive were worthy of many superlatives, are a little bit foggy as I was blown away completely by Linda’s side dish of duck fat potatoes – shatteringly crunchy on the exterior, creamy soft to the tooth on the interior and just the perfect amount of salty seasoning added to allow subtle duck nuances to emerge. It’s altogether possible that I was entirely uncommunicative during the entree course while silently concentrating on each bite of humble potato made exquisite by a low oven, long slow cooking and rich fat. I would have been content with a meal comprised solely of these potatoes and a glass of the Pinot, which I recall so well because it was one of those chance synergistic mind-blowers of a a pairing.

I believe Linda starts her potatoes from a raw state, but cooked redskins – which I already had – halved and slightly crushed to allow for ragged, random variations of textures  worked as prime fat-coated carriers as well. Either way, the result is pure, pure heavenly bliss in the mouth.

A quick gremolata of Italian parsley, garlic and meyer lemon zest (the orange undertones in the meyers are harmonious with the duck fat), folded into the hot potatoes smells amazing, tastes even better and adds a welcome flourish of color.

Duck Fat Roasted Potatoes

Serves 4 as a side. Or 1 as an entire meal *smiles*.

Ingredients:

1 1/2 pounds redskin or other small potato, lightly steamed or raw, halved or quartered, crushed or not – this is your recipe – play.

1/4 cup rendered duck fat

Sea salt to taste

Optional gremolata garnish of chopped Italian parsley, garlic and grated meyer lemon zest.

Procedure:

Preheat oven to 300.

Melt the duck fat in a cast iron pan large enough to hold the potatoes in one layer. Tumble in the potatoes and turn to coat in the fat. Sprinkle to taste with salt. Place in the oven and roast, turning the potatoes every half hour or so until browned and crispy on the exterior – about 3 hours. Remove from the oven and check seasoning. Fold in the optional gremolata.