Spring's Potential

Morning breaks, and the tilt of the earth pours more light earlier and earlier into my eyes. As I blink to see what the day will offer I am immediately assaulted by another sensation of a new dawn’s awakening carried on the warm, rising morning mist; wafting through the seams of the house a mingle of honeysuckle and jasmine urges me out of bed. This ethereal stretch makes me enthusiastic to get on my mud boots and weed. Nature’s unsolicited hug is as comforting and motivating as the arm that is wrapped around my shoulders and set of legs entwined in mine.

With mug of coffee in hand, my un-socked feet roomy in a pair of well-worn work shoes I beeline to the garden. A plot that a mere month ago was barren above ground but just centimeters below spring had sprung. Now, the land is speckled with tender, verdant leaves supported by stalks that are still a bit shaky, but committed. Just as determined, as I am to keep unwanted invaders from choking out the plants I have such high hopes for.

Yes, the season of spring is nascent greenery but it is also awash with purples,

yellows, pinks, and whites. While I may not be able to sauté these sweet-smelling sirens I can allow myself to fall nose first into their call. This time of year does immediately allow me to start enlivening most of the foods I make, as not only is the garden redolent with a cacophony of floral aromatics but fragranced herbs. My mint, chive, oregano, rosemary and dill have sprouted up begging to be

snipped and looking to reminisce about moments shared when last we saw each other. These cuttings are a reassuring promise that all things are possible – winter’s survival is always greeted by recreation and the steady upward climb toward potency stored within all of us.

Macadamia encrusted Lamb - serves 4
1-1/2 pounds lamb loin fillet
1/4-cup chopped macadamia nuts
1/4-cup breadcrumbs
2-teaspoons chopped thyme leaves
2-teaspoons chopped mint leaves
1-teaspoon chopped oregano leaves
1-garlic cloves – crushed to a paste
1/8-teaspoon cayenne pepper
1-tablespoon pomegranate molasses
Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

Pre-heat the oven to 400-degrees.

Quickly rinse, under cold water, and pat dry the lamb fillets.

In a bowl combine the nuts, breadcrumbs, thyme, mint, oregano, garlic, cayenne, pomegranate molasses, salt and pepper to thoroughly combine.

Divide the nut mixture among the fillets gently patting it onto one side of the lamb.

Place the lamb in the oven and cook for 10 minutes. Remove from the oven, and rest the meat five minutes. Slice each fillet into fourths and serve.

Labor Done

And so, the calendar clicked off the first day of spring. In some parts of the country grey skies and frozen flakes fell from the heavens toying with our collective desire to have winter behind us. Where I greeted the equinox the breaking horizon on the day was a foretelling to a glorious start. A perfect cerulean sweep of a sky accented with whispers of cirrus clouds that brushed the sky clear.

There was a mission to this picture perfect day as there was to the prior two. Get the garden

prepared and finished. By day three the hard stuff was behind us, well accept for the aches in our backs and the sore muscles of not-often-enough-engaged forearms. A bed, about 30 feet by 25 feet, had been tilled and soiled, raked and graded. What an accomplishment for when I arrived in blushing, cherry blossom hued Georgia from sooty New York the plot was just roughed out. The spot that was chosen had never held a garden before, and was therefore dense and packed in need of a lot of encouragement.

My partner in digging rented a roto-tiller for the weekend. I thought we could just hack at the soil with picks and rakes to loosen up the ground. No, the red earth of this region settles to a hard, resistant covering and it goes deep. The little roto-tiller reminded me of a bicycle with a small engine. Cute, but put not exactly highway worthy.

Chopping up that soil and turning it over took almost two days. Over that time we also, started quite a collection of rocks that at times were more than speed bumps to this process. I was not very good with it – that little tiller kept getting the best of me. I just did not have enough body weight to hold it back and down as it slowly chomped away aerating and softening the future home of future meals. Luckily, my partner is of strong Nordic stock and drove that tiller allowing me the occasional “go” so he could hydrate and I could claim some victory over this chosen land. I

was on mucking duty – shoveling and raking enough manure in order lay about two-feet deep of this nutrient rich source vital for the success of the garden.

Not to forget to bend over every time a tuff of grass, tangled dandelion or stray of clover was spotted to get them out for the were bound to re-establish themselves – and nothing was going to choke my little babies. I mean, we knew that weeds were hiding and eventually were going to be dealt with, but those that was too stupid to conceal themselves were yanked, and tossed.

By nightfall, for three days, we climbed the stairs back into the house and showered off the layer of dirt that coated bodies. The tub's drain sucked down the forensic evidence the day’s work. As we crashed into bed it was agreed upon that the work was exhausting but the satisfaction of creating life fueled our spirit to get up the next morning and start again. It is a simple thing, gardening, but yet it is not. The physical labor is intense, but the soreness fades; the spiritual connectiveness to my food from seed to plate will make me cherish very morsel and the emotional gratification and security I get knowing where my food has been raised makes me wish everything I ate could come this plot.

We are weeks to months away from really harvesting much of thing – herbs will be clipped almost immediately – I like to go down the garden in the morning, coffee cup in hand, to check on their progress, and give them a quenching to help them on their way. I pray no dousing rain washes away the seeds we sowed, and the hothouse pushed planting take to the shock of their new home.

Looking...Waiting

March may come in like a lion, but I say it goes out like a hungry lamb. The next 6 to 8 weeks are the hardest for me food whys, I suffer from a serve case of the culinary blues. The summer stores I put up last year have dwindled to a last meal or two, and the earth is still in a dead sleep. The frustration is as I peel off layers and no longer require the thrice wrapping of my cashmere scarf I start to ache for green. I now the first delicate offerings of the season of renewal will be a verdant saturated plate, and I pine for that chlorophyll intense bite.

On the calendar spring is a mere three weeks away, and because Mother Nature has once again not marked her iCalendar I now a specific date means nothing. So, I will look for signs: white and purple crocus dotting barren parks; slightly swollen green buds popping up in clumps here and there, and stretch of nights where the temperature never dips below a freeze. Reading those signs I can start to plot my first true spring meal and think of grilled ramps or a chervil laced goat cheese turnover – ahh, the thought of it.

I must wait, and I in the interim I will dream.





Whole Wheat Flatbread – yields 8
16-ounces plain yogurt
2-cups chickpea flour
3-1/2 to 4 cups whole-wheat flour
2-teaspoons salt
1-tablespoon canola oil

Combine the yogurt, chickpea flour, whole-wheat flour and salt together to create a dense, but moist dough mass. Knead the dough for 5 minutes, and then rub with a bit of oil. Place in a bowl and cover, or plastic bag and allow the dough to sit at room temperature for 24 hours.

Cut the dough into 8 pieces, and form in a ball.

Flatten the ball of dough, and roll them out to about 1/8-inch thick rounds. Make sure to rotate the dough as you are rolling in order to prevent it from sticking to your work-surface. It is ideal not to flour the work-surface when rolling out the flat breads.

Heat a cast iron skillet or flat top over a high heat. Cook the flat breads for about 2-3minutes a side.

Store in the refrigerator or freeze.

Looking for change

I am no sure what is more difficult – change or commitment. I would endeavor to say, that when undertaking any new venture there needs to be a willingness to wrestle with both. We prepare ourselves for days, weeks sometimes years in advance, and then the mysterious tipping point presents its self, and we leap.

Be it a new business; saying good ridden to a toxic relationship or starting a new food program it seems change and commitment must be part of our internal conversation and belief system, or else success will never come into the equation.

The unknown is frightening but the new is exhilarating. As we all embark on new journeys we need to have planned a course, set-down benchmarks to hit, and build in permission to digress a bit while traversing this new path. Once upon our trek the hardest thing to maintain is a mantra of victory as we tire and only see the stretch of open road laid out in front of us. Inner strength and conviction to the goal and simply relying upon the phrase, fake it to you make it needs to be holding your hand.

Dream a dream…plot a course…walk into a new beginning.




Vegetable-Turkey Soup – yields approx. 12 servings
1-pound boneless-skinless turkey thigh meat
2-turkey drumsticks (on the bone)
1-medium sweet onion (such as Vidalia) - diced
3/4-pound carrots – cut into 1/2-inch pieces
1-pound parsnips – cut into 1/2-inch pieces
5-stalks celery – cut into 1/2-inch pieces
1-pound celery root – cut into 1/2-inch pieces
1-pound rutabaga – cut into 1/2-inch pieces
1-pound crimini mushrooms – halved
1-tablespoon fresh thyme leaves
1-cup parsley leaves
1-cup chopped sun dried tomatoes
1-teaspoon fenugreek
Salt and pepper to taste

Heat a 10-quart soup pot over a high heat, and then place the turkey to brown. Once the turkey has browned remove to a work-bowl and immediately add the onion, carrots, parsnips, celery, celery root and rutabaga. Stir the vegetables to coat with the bit of fat released by the browning turkey. Lower to the heat to medium, and cook the vegetables until they are wilted down – approximately 10 minutes.

Once the vegetables have wilted add the turkey back to the pot along with the mushrooms, thyme, parsley, fenugreek and sun dried tomatoes. As well as some salt and pepper.

Pour over 5 to 6 cups of cold water. Bring to the boil, and then reduce the heat to a simmer. Place a lid on the pot that is slightly askew, and simmer the soup for 3 hours.

Retrieve the turkey meat from the pot, and shred the thigh meat and drumsticks (discarding the skin and bone). Return the meat to the pot, and correct seasoning.

Valentine

Love stained Valentine
A box filled with passion
warm breath melts the day

Love Potion 214 – yields approx. 4 cocktails
2 cups blood orange juice (from approximately 6)
1/4-cup pomegranate molasses
4 whole clove
1/4-cup dried Rose petals
2 tablespoons dried hibiscus flowers
1-teaspoon whole fennel seed
1/2-inch piece sliced, fresh ginger root
1/2-cup sugar
1-cup vodka

Place the clove, rose petals, hibiscus, fennel seed and ginger root in a 1-1/2 quart saucepan and pour over the blood orange juice, pomegranate syrup, sugar and 1-cup water. Over a medium heat warm the mixture for 20 minutes covered with a tight fitting lid. Remove from the heat and allow the mixture to steep for 15 minutes. Then pass the ingredients through a fine sieve. Cool the infused orange juice mixture completely.

Fill a martini shaker with ice and pour over 1/2-cup of the blood orange mixture and 1/4-cup of vodka. Place the lid on it and shake. Pour into martini glass and serve straight up.

True Love

With all is this talk of Valentine’s Day coming up lets talk about something I love – my pots and pans. And they are specific. Of course, my knives are extremely important to me and I have quite a collection of slicing, dicing, chopping options, but sooner or later they fail requiring a trip to the sharpener.

My number one partner in the kitchen has been from the start of my adult-life is a wok I purchased while in college down in Chinatown which has managed living around with world with me. If I had to give up all but one of my pots and pans, it would be that wok coated with years of experimenting and serving meals that would remain with me, I always say. It wilted the first bok choy I had ever eaten, presented years of paellas before a traditional container found its way into the kitchen. There were occasions when that bowled pot allowed chunks of pork to sizzle and crisp in deep fat.

Like an episode of Sister Wives I have brought others into the mix. An old, rust encrusted cast iron skillet was found on a table at a Pennsylvania flea market. Scrubbed with fine steel wool to rid it of its years of neglect its potential was once again recognized and requested. Now, mind you rescuing this pan came with living instructions. After scouring it was dried over an open flame to bone dry. Then I lightly oiled it, and heated over a high flame until it smoked. Then for the first twenty years that we were together I have never cleaned it with more than a soft sponge, a suspicion of soap and hot water. Then over a flame to dry – airing drying it would surely start it onto its previous path of corroded despair. I will admit that this pan that can easily pass through generations and found a fallow period when a Teflon clad interloper worked to usurp its power. Today, no flecks of that technical wonder can be found. As a disclaimer, be aware that cast iron skillets are heavy, so stop carrying them around the house.

Then there is the field of stainless cooking vessels from everyone and their promoter. They are our modern day workhorses. Though not all is equal. I am a fan of All-clad and am smitten by a new pan I received from a company called 360 Cookware, a eco-friendly production facility based in Wisconsin. They promote a vapor technology due to their rimmed pan and tight fitting lids that allows cooking to be done in a steaming like state. But I am a creature that craves brunt edges and needs to brown things than having a majority of my foods steamed – regardless of how healthy it is. So, I tried the pan as encouraged, heated over a medium flame, and not my usual blast. I laid down a filet of hamachi and allowed it to sear. Then I placed a few baby bok choys on top with some ginger and scallions and secured the lid. So far, no oil in the pan – I lowered my heat and cooked it for 10 minutes. To my pleasure the bok choy was cooked and fish lifted off crisped bottom in tact.

With a drizzle of ponzu sauce and sesame oil I was feeling love.

Super prep

I guess I am clueless in regards to certain events. Living in New York City I became aware that the Jets almost made it to the Super Bowl. I heard of the pots of competing chili my nephews concocted as hosts of the don’t-let-us-down game. Unfortunately, like another rhyming New York sport’s franchise a victorious moment was not to be witnessed by Gotham’s optimistic fans. Apparently that is old news.

Yes, I knew that there were other teams that won and they would be off to the Super Bowl and the colors green and yellow in their uniforms. I just had no idea when it would be, and honestly I did not care. The only time I saw a football game in its entirety would have been when I was about twelve years of age. I do remember it being a Jets game when they actually played in the State they were associated with. I cannot say I recall a single minute of a single quarter; I do have absolute recollection of the frigid chill that caused my bum to freeze off and the hot chocolate my father plied me with in the hopes of melting the creeping hatred for the day that was all over my face. Indoors or outdoors I never witnessed a game again. I am also somewhat adverse to the greasy spread that litters many a den. That is why the one Super Bowl party I catered sushi was on the menu.

I don’t believe this weekend is going to mark any change in my viewing or eating habits – with or without the Jets. Maybe I will go to the movies with my own popcorn.




Green Apple and White Cabbage Salad – yields 10 servings
2 Granny Smith apples
1 lime - juiced
1 small head white cabbage – core removed; thinly sliced
1 fennel bulb – white bottom only; sliced julienne
1 medium red onion – sliced thinly onto julienne
4 stalks celery – sliced thin julienne
1 carrot – peeled; sliced thin julienne

Cut the apples into quarters and remove the core.

Then slice the apple into thin julienne and toss with the limejuice. Toss all the ingredients together along with the caraway dressing (see below).

Let the salad sit 1 to 6 hours before serving.













Caraway Dressing
1-pound silken tofu
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
1/2-cup cider vinegar
1/4-cup olive oil
2 teaspoons caraway seeds
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black to taste
2 tablespoons poppy seeds

In a blender process the tofu, mustard vinegar, oil, caraway seeds, salt and black together to thoroughly combine. Transfer to a clean work bowl and stir in the poppy seeds. Correct with salt and pepper.

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