Showing posts with label Organic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Organic. Show all posts

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Tomatoes, At Last



It’s been a long wait. Nary an heirloom tomato to be found on the East Coast last year, due to the awful tomato blight. While the recent spate of hot weather may have been oppressive, it seems to have coaxed the tomatoes out of their great recession at Restoration Farm.

We are greeted at distribution with Slicers, Juliet tomatoes and a variety of red and gold cherry tomatoes that are as sweet as penny candy.


It is a joyful reunion! How did we manage last summer without these blushing shades of red, orange, pink and gold on the plate? How long since we dabbed that tart juice from our lips?

The debut tomato recipe of the summer of 2010 is an aromatic Mixed Tomato Salad with black olives, dressed with warm toasted garlic and oregano oil. Used as a relish over pan broiled beef tenderloin steaks, it delivers a brilliant burst of savory sunshine.

It is a welcomed homecoming, indeed!

©2010 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Tuesday, December 01, 2009

Braising Season Opens - Braised Red Cabbage, Apples and Smoked Sausage

Forget Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. For me, the most lyrical of the seasons is the braising season.

Each year, I can’t wait to start using the Dutch oven. From the first hint of a chill in the air, until the summer temperature is absolutely unbearable, the fire engine red pot holds an honored place on top of my stove.

This year, the opening of braising season is marked with brilliant color and subtle hints of smoke, sweet and sour. I start with a basic braising recipe for cabbage from the book Martha Stewart’s Cooking School. Two Granny Smith apples (peeled and cored) and one large onion are sliced into one inch chunks and combined with 6 tablespoons of melted butter, ½ cup of sugar and 1 and 1/4 teaspoons of coarse salt. The mixture caramelizes for about 10 minutes.

Then, the last red cabbage from Restoration Farm is cut into wedges and added along with ¾ cup of apple cider vinegar and ¾ cup of water. I add two inch chunks of smoked sausage to the top, bring to a boil, and then cover and simmer on low for a mere 30 minutes. The apples melt into a sweet caramelized sauce of rich purple, and the cabbage is still crisp, but meltingly tender.

Like the scent of autumn leaves, the tangy aroma and the bright magenta color signal that indeed braising season has arrived. I welcome and relish the season of foods cooked low and slow.

©2009 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Sunday, October 04, 2009

Strange Visitors

Halloween is approaching and it’s time to revisit those spine-chilling horror film classics like War of the Worlds and Invasion of the Body Snatchers. At Restoration Farm, there has been an invasion of extraterrestrial produce. Are you ready for Attack of the Kohlrabi?

Invasion of the Daikon Radish?

Night of the Chinese Cabbage?

We have two options, Earthlings. Run for our lives … or make slaw!

Kohlrabi is a relative of broccoli, and is thought by some to be a hybrid of cabbage and turnip. The globe is actually a swollen stem. It can be eaten raw or cooked, and is similar to a crisp Granny Smith apple, although not as sweet.

The Daikon radish resembles a giant ghostly carrot. The white flesh can be eaten raw or cooked, and has the sharp, slightly pungent taste of turnip.

Chinese Cabbage invaded planet Earth in Asia in 500 A.D. While not offering much in terms of nutritional value, the lacy leaves are great in stir fries and soups, delivering lots of fiber and few calories.

The best thing about slaw is you really don’t need a recipe. The food processor is your best weapon against attack. Mine contains a full head of cabbage, one large radish, one head of kohlrabi and some sliced peppers. The dressing is 2 tablespoons rice vinegar, 4 tablespoons sesame oil, 3 tablespoons soy sauce 1 tablespoon honey and 1 teaspoon dry mustard whisked together. Toss with chopped peanuts and black sesame seeds.

So, if you happen to hear something go bump in the night, or come face-to-face with an alien at the farm stand, make peace with a big bowl of slaw.

May the Fork be with you.

©2009 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Berry Finale

As the curtain comes down on Berry Season 2009 at Restoration Farm, we present “berries baked two ways” for our final number.

On stage right, is the beautiful blackberry and raspberry buckle, inspired by my friend Miss Tera who believes that the true mark of someone who appreciates food is that they go out of their way to share the experience. So she shared this recipe for her grandmother’s blueberry buckle.

I guess I’m not a stickler for tradition, since I used a combination of raspberries and blackberries, which melted into a rich, deep red sauce, but Miss Tera assures me that there were, in fact, raspberries growing in her grandmother’s garden, and she was known to toss a few blackberries into her buckle.

I’ll leave it to Miss Tera to explain the different between a buckle, a grunt, a crumble, and all those other baked berry deserts. She’s the expert.

I have some experience with cobblers. My great great grandfather was a shoemaker in London. On stage left is the blushing berry cobbler. I tucked the final pint of raspberries under a mosaic of cornmeal batter. The tart, tangy berries are a tasty contrast to the nutty cornmeal crunch.

Adorn with your choice of toppings for a standing ovation.

Until next season!

© 2009 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Twilight at Sophia Garden: The CSA Experiment Concludes

The crescent moon looks like a sliver of fingernail – thumbs down – against the blackened sky as I approach Sophia Garden on foot. It is a cool night. The volunteers are huddled under the canopy and a propane lantern casts a beacon of light across the remaining bins of vegetables.

It is my last pickup at Sophia Garden, the heavenly organic farm run by a group of Dominican Sisters on suburban Long Island. I joined on an impulse, and now the growing season is over and the summer has turned to autumn. The fields are plowed under and little evidence remains of the plants, stakes and vines once bursting with vegetables. It has been my first experience with Community Sponsored Agriculture. I feel a sense of accomplishment, but a tinge of sadness that it is over. And, my wallet is feeling just slightly pinched at the thought of having to return to supermarket prices, just as the economy is experiencing a meltdown.

The yield is far smaller now. Three carrots, two eggplants, a butternut squash and just a half pound of still ripening tomatoes. Gone are the days of nine pounds of tomatoes, bushels of burgundy beans and bundles of crisp lettuce. Still, I will likely make good use of this produce, generating close to two weeks of meals.

I learned a great deal through this CSA experiment. I approached my meals differently, learning to cook according to the yield of the garden instead of some spontaneous food craving. Usually, I made great use of the pickup, preparing enough good food to carry me through lunch and dinner for nearly two weeks. On those weeks when some of the produce went to waste, I felt badly, and tried a little harder the following week. I cooked in quantity on Sunday and Monday, although I can still improve how I organize my freezer. I also became more thoughtful about where my food comes from.

I learned that I love chard and one can eat greens as a main course. I’d always been afraid to try it, and now I’m pining for its sweet, tender flavor. I learned that pasta, rice and couscous can help extend a meal for days. And I discovered that even three small carrots can lead to a surprisingly good meal when transformed into an exotic Moroccan Carrot Salad. I also took the opportunity to purchase more vegetarian cookbooks than one guy should really own.

The rainbow-colored heirloom tomatoes were glorious. I ate them in salads and soups, and used gold and red jewels to adorn the tart pictured above. I even mastered the art of preserving some for later, thanks to Lydia’s recipe for oven roasted tomatoes and some guidance via email on a Saturday night.

The pounds and pounds of potatoes have made their way into frittatas and Spanish Tortillas:


The luminous purple, white and green eggplants became Ratatouille:


In the end, the garden only gave me two butternut squash, but it was the base for a silky autumnal soup with apples, leeks and cider:

Acorn squash goes all fancy when roasted with pure maple syrup and butter:

And, there are even still more potatoes to prepare, this time in a lovely golden potato leek soup:

With all these vegetables, thoughts eventually turn to dessert, and even there, veggies are victorious in nutty and dense whole wheat zucchini bread:

Finally, I must report that I did actually make it to all of my scheduled volunteer work shifts, although at times my attendance seemed precarious. On one occasion, I was introduced to a talkative 8-year-old boy named Elijah who told me his life story and peppered me with questions about mine for three hours as we pulled weeds from between the string bean plants. I also sustained quite a few mosquito bites along the way. On my final shift, I actually found myself alone in the shed with only my thoughts, sorting cherry tomatoes and watching as a burnished, golden haze enveloped the garden. Eventually, it was too chilly and too dark to see what I was doing and it was time to conclude. There were times when I didn’t want to report for duty, but I was usually glad I did, especially when I would complete a task. The garden needs continual care, but at times the weeds seemed daunting. But there was some sense of satisfaction leaving a vegetable plot more orderly and tidy than it was found. Dare I say that Sophia Garden may, in fact, be a metaphor for life?

Happy Winter to the blessed organic sisters of Sophia Garden! I’ve already signed up for next season!

©2008 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Locally-Grown Tasting Menu – Whole Wheat Pizza with Summer Squash

Here’s my version of take-out – I prepare a nutty, whole-wheat pizza crust, flavored with honey and wheat germ, and decorate it with yellow and green slices of summer squash, slivers of red pepper, rosemary and crumbled feta cheese. After baking, I take it out to the deck and enjoy with a chilled glass of white wine. It is a beautiful mosaic of summer flavors, perfect for dining al fresco!

While I take a brief holiday from blogging, I’m offering up a tasting menu of some of my creations from the organic produce grown at Sophia Garden. Enjoy the bounty of summer, and I’ll be back soon.

©2008 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Monday, August 25, 2008

Locally-Grown Tasting Menu – Marinated Cucumber Salad

The cucumbers are practically popping out of the soil at Sophia Garden these days. For this Marinated Cucumber Salad, the garden-fresh cucumbers are sliced paper-thin, tossed with slices of organic onions and diced green pepper, and dressed in a sweet-and-sour marinate that consists of 1/3 cup granulated sugar, 1/3 cup rice vinegar and 1 teaspoon of Kosher salt. Chill overnight for a refreshing and savory bite of summer!

While I take a brief holiday from blogging, I’m offering up a tasting menu of some of my creations from the organic produce grown at Sophia Garden. Enjoy the bounty of summer, and I’ll be back soon.

©2008 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Locally-Grown Tasting Menu – Roasted Beets, Goat Cheese and Candied Walnuts

As a child, I was always suspicious of beets. Now, I’m head-over-heels in love with the bold and brazen scarlet-purple bulbs. These organic beets from Sophia Garden are roasted with a drizzle of olive oil and a dash of salt and pepper for about an hour in a 400 degree oven. They are a perfect marriage with fresh-picked greens, goat cheese, candied walnuts and a light vinaigrette. Amore!


While I take a brief holiday from blogging, I’m offering up a tasting menu of some of my creations from the organic produce grown at Sophia Garden. Enjoy the bounty of summer, and I’ll be back soon.

©2008 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved


Monday, August 11, 2008

Organic Nerd

I’m geeking out over this week’s harvest from Sophia Garden. There are mini green peppers, more pickling cucumbers, yellow summer squash, beets, burgundy beans, kale, slicing cucumbers, piles of blushing red fingerling potatoes, basil and cilantro and – drum roll please – the first heirloom tomatoes are in!!!


What to do with all this summer bounty? Start slicing, dicing, and boiling!

Dinner consists of a salad of yellow and red heirloom tomatoes sprinkled with crumbled goat cheese and fresh basil that tastes like licorice perfume.

Those red fingerling potatoes are scrubbed cleaned and boiled. Dressed with diced green pepper, cilantro and Dijon vinaigrette, they are transformed into a savory summer potato salad.

Diminutive cherry tomatoes in dazzling red, gold and orange - and sweet like sugar candy - are tossed with minced green pepper and whole wheat orzo for a fresh pasta salad.

You want to hear my geekiest move of all? I’m heading off on a trip to the West coast for a few days. There is so much food, and I can’t bear the thought of leaving my creations in the refrigerator. So, I pack a lunch of orzo salad and potato salad for the plane. Let’s face it. The food on airplanes is dismal, but these organic vegetables have me soaring!

©2008 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Saturday, June 21, 2008

How Green is My Kitchen – The Organic Community Garden

It’s not easy being green, but I’ve noted a touch of chlorophyll pulsing through my veins as of late. Determined to eat locally – to the best of my abilities – I’ve shunned produce from Chile, worshipped at the compost bin of Barbara Kingsolver and become an apostle of Michael Pollan. I even purchase Martha Stewart’s “Good Things for a Healthy Home.”

Yet practical solutions are far more challenging than embracing rhetoric. The produce demographic of the typical Long Island grocery store resembles a well-traveled TripTik from The American Automobile Association and it’s often wilted or even rotten, as well.

So, as is often the case, I go online for options and quickly find myself at LocalHarvest, a bountiful web resource for everything from farmers markets to organic produce. I type in my zip code and…it is as if the Red Sea has parted.

It must be divine intervention. Who would have imagined that among the strip malls and gridlock of suburban Long Island one could find an organic community garden? It is like manna from heaven, and just to push the celestial analogies to the limit, check this out – it’s run by an order of Dominican nuns.

Welcome to Sophia Garden, a little organic patch of God’s country in Amityville, Long Island and a mission of the Sisters of St. Dominic who have lived on the land and often farmed it since 1875. I rejoice to see that memberships are still available.

The next day I dial up and secure a share. For a very small price and a commitment to work 15 hours during the season in the garden, I will get 10 to 15 pounds of vegetables every two weeks. It sounds so easy, and the community involvement will be fun. I note the first Saturday garden work day on my calendar and plan to attend.

Almost immediately, my failings as a localvore become painfully obvious. I arrive home horribly late from a business trip and sleep through the first work day. For an entire week after, I live in fear of being disciplined by the nuns for cutting class. I am wracked with guilt, which is easy when the clergy is involved.

Then, I read the fine print more carefully and discover that the Saturday work days don’t even count towards my 15 hour quota. That means I’m going to have to take a few days off to meet my work commitment. I commiserate with a working mom colleague who is intrigued by such activities but bemoans the lack of time in her schedule. “Can’t I get my housekeeper to cover my commitment?” she wonders.

As the growing season moves on, I’ve not managed to log a single hour of weeding in the garden and conclude that I am guilty of the sin of organic omission.

Finally, I receive notification that my first pickup of produce is scheduled for mid-June. I plan carefully so I can be there to commune with the farmland…and another business trip comes up. So, I must impose on my parents to make the first pickup and deposit the harvest in my crisper while I am away.

My localvore experiment is already fractured and my parents are cutting into their gasoline budget to pick up my organic vegetables. During high school, they chauffeured me, and now they’re chauffeuring my vegetables.

Several thoughts begin to germinate. First, I offer my parents a cut of the initial harvest (no sense wracking up more guilt). I decide not to go to the grocery store, since my refrigerator will be overflowing with produce. Then, I recall that – according to Barbara Kingsolver – in the cool, early spring and start of summer, it is the season of tender leaves and shoots. On the airplane to the West Coast (not helping my carbon footprint, either) I obsess over whether I’ll be eating lettuce at every meal. How will I creatively prepare, eat and store the yield? I’ve got to make sure I plan my meals carefully so ten pounds of veggies don’t go rotten on me. Where is Clarence Birdseye when you need him?

I arrive home from San Francisco at 2:00 in the morning and head straight to the crisper. As anticipated, the yield is mostly salad greens. Peter Rabbit would have a field day. Do you know what 10 pounds of lettuce looks like? Mom can’t even fit it all in the crisper. But, it is divine! It is the wee hours of the morning, I am examining glorious produce, and my fingers are covered with dirt and grit. I could almost sing the “Ode to Joy!” It's like a little revival meeting right there in my kitchen.

I still have to do my penance – 15 hours of hard labor in the Garden of Eden – and I’ve already got a conflict with the next upcoming workday. I’ll have to let my conscience sort that all out. In the meantime, I must decide how to prepared my share of the first harvest – my bags of “vegetable love.” As always, Mom is detail-oriented and leaves me a thorough written inventory:

Red romaine lettuce
Green romaine lettuce
Butter lettuce
Garlic snaps
Haiku turnips
Mixed radishes
Snap peas
Sugar peas
Mixed field greens
A handful of mesclun greens

The next night, I get to work planning my plant-focused menu for the week. Thank goodness I didn’t let my Professional Declutterer dispose of the salad spinner during Spring Cleaning. Soon, my head will be spinning from excessive use of the salad spinner.


Among the menu items I’ve created are a Chicken Caesar Salad with leafy red and green romaine lettuce and homemade croutons:

A “composed salad” atop peppery, bitter field greens with sweet, tender radishes, raw slices of Haiku turnips, organic hard-cooked eggs and organic chick peas:



A salad of sliced apples, Roquefort cheese and homemade candied walnuts drizzled with aged balsamic vinegar:


Meantime, I’ve been working on getting my terms straight. It took me too long to figure out that CSA wasn’t a public accounting accreditation. I’ve also learned that Alice Waters’ “The Art of Simple Food” is my friend. The Queen of Romaine Hearts knows her lettuce, and I now know the appropriate ratio of vinegar to oil (1:4) for preparation of the perfect vinaigrette. I also spend a lot of time rinsing produce. My kitchen sink has rings of dirt in it, but that’s a very good thing.


Okay, if you want to be a purist, I know I’m not a complete localvore. Who knows where the chicken and anchovies came from for the Caesar salad, right? And, I still have to visit Sophia Garden and get my hands dirty to make it all real in my mind. But, tonight I took my big bowl of salad outside with a glass of Chardonnay from a New York state vineyard and ate dinner at twilight to celebrate the Summer Solstice. The lettuce is piled a mile high in suburban Long Island and I am loving it!

©2008 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved