Sunday, August 16, 2009

Flavor, Labor and Neighbors at The Farm at Sunnyside

Breakfast has concluded at the Foster Harris House, and John MacPherson sheds his chef whites in favor of a green tee-shirt, shorts and baseball cap. We hop in the truck and head out into the rolling hills of Rappahannock County. Chef John is putting together a special dinner and he is in search of local ingredients.

We drive several miles and finally arrive at The Farm at Sunnyside, a source for much of the produce prepared at the Foster Harris House. The farm was established in the late 1700s with an apple orchard and some cattle. In 2006, Nick and Gardiner Lapham took ownership. The CSA program has 65 members and has been in operation for two years.

We park the truck and enter a wooden structure. I am introduced to Casey Gustowarow, a young bearded man in a red tee-shirt and one of four interns working on vegetable production at Sunnyside. Casey is the CSA manager. Immediately, my eye is drawn to bins of vibrantly-colored vegetables in shades I don’t always see. There is rainbow Swiss chard, eggplant the color of indigo, blush-pink potatoes, purple bell peppers and sun-drenched gold tomatoes.


Chef John is like a kid in a candy store as he looks over the selection. I’m getting a sense of the chef’s creative process. He has no shopping list, but as he examines the produce and the range of colors and textures, his plan for the dinner begins to take shape.

As John looks over the produce, I chat with Casey. He graduated college with a degree in biology, joined the Peace Corps and did conservation work, but found himself drawn to sustainable agriculture and a desire to provide sustainable food for others. He says community sponsored agriculture brings people together around food.

“I like the CSA a lot because everyone comes to the farm, rather than dropping off a box somewhere,” he tells me. “I really like that people get a community feeling – you know, come here, and talk to their neighbors and exchange recipes.”

It turns out Casey knows a lot about the subject of local food and has been a proponent at the highest level of government. He says interest in sustainable agriculture is increasing and change is possible.

“I went around on a crazy bus tour to get the White House to put a garden in,” he tells me. “Around the country, everywhere I went on this tour, people were incredibly interested in the local food movement and changing the way we eat in this country. And luckily, the President, or the First Lady, decided to do something about it, so I’m glad that’s the case.”

As we chat, Casey will periodically stop to talk with CSA members. He takes a minute to extol the virtues of the Cherokee Purple Tomato, a chunky fruit with deep-colored flesh.
“This one says, I am a tomato!” he tells a member.

Chef John takes note. “There is a tomato salad in our future,” he tells me.

Casey will often make recipes available for members. “I try to put out recipes – and every once in a while I’ll cook something and have a sampling,” he says. I ask him if the farmer is ultimately focused on the plant, or the taste that people experience.

“I think a lot of small scale farmers really care about delivering a good product to their customers,” Casey replies. “For me, I certainly think about what I would want to grow is what I would want to eat and how I’m going to prepare it.”
I’m admiring the perfect potatoes and notice that Chef John and Casey are deep in consultation. Casey disappears and returns shortly with a cardboard basket of tiny, jewel-like red berries. They are wineberries – a relative of the raspberry – and they grow in thorny bramble bushes all over the countryside.

Chef John considers their potential for the menu that’s been percolating in his head. The wineberries may find their way into a dessert. He drops a tiny berry into his mouth and offers me a taste.

“They’re like little pockets of summer,” says John “They’re like sweet-tart caviar the way they pop in your mouth.”

We return to the truck and bounce along a meandering road out into the vegetable fields. Shortly, we spot a woman on her knees tucking bright shocks of lettuce into a long plastic white strip. The midday sun is hot, and the attentive Virginia gnats are swarming. John introduces me to Emily Cook, who manages vegetable production at Sunnyside.

“I’m transplanting lettuce which we do every week,” explains Emily. This season, they have planted 30-35 generations at Sunnyside. The white plastic strip is used for week control. She tells me that varieties such as New Red Fire, Tropicana and Jericho do really well in the summer.

Emily has a Master’s degree in horticulture from Penn State. She started farming in 1997, shortly after completing her undergraduate degree.

“I went back to DC where I grew up and started looking for a real job in the non-profit world,” she says. “I couldn’t find one. My mom sent me out to get some cucumbers one day and mentioned there was a little farm stand in town. It was the first farmer’s market I had ever been to. I just stood there and thought, My God, I’ve never seen half of this stuff. What is kale?”

Shortly after, she started working at the farm stand, and then worked on several farms before completing her graduate work. She tells me that organic farming is not without perils. Right now the staff at Sunnyside is desperately trying to keep the tomato crop healthy, as a late blight attacks tomato plants throughout the mid-Atlantic region.

I ask her what people take away from their experiences at the Farm at Sunnyside.

“I model our CSA as a CSA that I would like,” Emily says. “I think they get huge diversity. We try to give them more choice than a lot of people get at a CSA. They’re getting the freshest produce that anyone could possibly get. And, hopefully learning a little bit and making friends with people who are interested in food.”

She says that CSA members become much more conscious of the effort required to grow wholesome, nutritious food.

“People are thinking about everything that’s going into producing their food, which I think is really important,” says Emily, mopping perspiration from her brow. “It just makes people more aware of how hard it is – like all the little steps that go into this head of lettuce. It started in the greenhouse a month ago, and somebody had to mix the soil and fill the flats and then seed, water for a month and fertilize. Now, somebody’s on their hands and knees out here putting it into the ground.”

Along with gorgeous varieties of summer lettuce, the best of zucchini – tended with care – is now available at farmers markets and CSAs. At The Farm at Sunnyside, Casey Gustowarow recommends a recipe that adds a dash of spice and heat to all that summer goodness:

Puree of Zucchini

3 tablespoons olive oil
1 1/3 cups finely chopped onion
3 garlic cloves, peeled and finely chopped
¼ tsp ground tumeric
4 medium zucchini (about 2 ¾ pounds) peeled and cut into ¼ inch dice
1 tsp salt
1 tsp ground cumin
1/8 tsp cayenne
Freshly ground black pepper
1 ½ tsp tomato paste

Put the olive oil in a medium frying pan and heat to medium-high. When hot, sauté onion and garlic for 10 – 12 minutes until onion is soft. If necessary, reduce heat to avoid browning. Add tumeric and stir once. Remove a third of the onion-garlic mixture and set aside. Add the zucchini and salt to the frying pan and return the heat to medium-high. Stir and cook for 1-2 minutes or until the zucchini begins to release a little liquid. Cover, turn heat to low and cook for 10 minutes, until zucchini is soft. Uncover, add the cumin, cayenne, black pepper to taste and tomato paste. Mash zucchini with a potato masher in the frying pan, allowing it to cook gently as you do. Keep cooking and mashing for a minute or two, until you have a course, well-mixed puree. Add the reserved onions and mix well. Serve hot, warm, at room temperature or chilled.
©2009 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Thursday, August 13, 2009

The Chef’s Canvas

A succession of rectangular plates is arranged on the counter in the kitchen of the Foster Harris House, like a gleaming mosaic of perfect white tiles.

Chef John MacPherson steps back and silently considers the potential of the pristine, blank canvas for just a moment. Then - quickly and precisely - he sets to work.

I have been given a backstage pass. Welcomed beyond the kitchen door of the Foster Harris House, I sit at the work island – with a steaming cup of coffee in hand – watching Chef John MacPherson in action. Few guests get this behind-the-scenes glimpse. It’s like entering the artist’s studio. This is where glorious breakfasts begin.

Chef John applies technique, artistry and imagination, and I watch – riveted – as a dazzling tableau takes shape. Every step is deliberate. Colors, textures, aromas, flavors and dimension all work in concert to shape the total creation. Flaky puff pastry elevates the dish. A curl of hickory-smoked bacon catches the eye. A brilliant fresh salsa of red tomato and green avocado is scented with tart lime juice and cilantro. Luminescent poached eggs are meticulously trimmed. Deep red pepper, finely-diced is scattered across the plate, with a flourish of chipotle cream.

The finished entrée is indeed a masterpiece. One’s first inclination is simply to gaze, and take in the spectacle, but then, the appetite is inspired.

Art is to be admired and appreciated, but is food ever too beautiful to eat? At the Foster Harris House – never!

I visited the food and wine country of Virginia July 23 – 27, 2009.

©2009 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Sunday, August 09, 2009

Do I Dare to Eat a Virginia Peach?

No sooner have I entered the Foster Harris House in Washington, Virginia when I spot it – a deep straw basket delivered by a neighbor, piled high with luscious round orbs, streaked with pink, blush and gold.

It has been just a few hours since I’ve departed the Big Apple, and I am confronted with a mountain of giant peaches. The Southern air is a touch sultry and the peaches simply glow with enticement.

Diane MacPherson invites me into the kitchen, and she brings along the basket. I perch myself on a stool. There are lots of things to catch up on after almost a year’s absence. Chef John MacPherson offers me a glass of wine. Diane slices one of the tempting peaches.

If it is true that one can actually taste the anticipation of a pending holiday, the flavors of the adventures that lie ahead are surely locked in these succulent peaches. The fruit is impossibly bright, ripe and laden with juice. The nectar sweetens my lips and clings to my fingers. All past peaches seem dry, woody and withered by comparison.

We talk for hours about food, wine and plans for the future. Time seems to pass differently in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. And, the taste of these decadent peaches is like an infusion of sunshine.

John scoops servings of his homemade vanilla ice cream and surrounds the velvety rich concoction with more sliced peaches. Does anyone want a shaving of chocolate on top?
Heck, yes!

The cold, silky dessert and the peaches rejuvenate, signaling an awakening of all the senses neglected by just a tad too much responsibility.

It is good to be back at the Foster Harris House.

I visited the food and wine country of Virginia July 23 – 27, 2009.
©2009 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Thursday, August 06, 2009

Blueberry-Almond Granola and Memories of Acadia National Park

There are no wild blueberries on Long Island, but on Mount Desert Island in Maine they grow in abundance at Acadia National Park. Summertime inspires memories of family camping trips to Acadia, way back when. We would pile in the station wagon and make the drive in two days. How else could my parents manage four boys in the back seat of a car? (The portable DVD player had not yet been invented.)

Acadia National Park is one of the most unique regions in the United States. There, the mountains meet the crystalline blue sea. You can hike the glacial terrain of Cadillac Mountain, or walk barefoot on Sand Beach. The ocean water is chillingly cold, but bursting with marine life. For me, it was an exotic location with fascinating and mysterious places like the Beehive, the South Bubble, Thunder Hole, the Precipice and Anemone Cave. A network of hiking trails and carriage roads fan out across the island, offering endless opportunities for excursions. The more challenging hikes even have stone steps and ladder rungs embedded in the rock, which my brothers and I thought was the coolest thing ever.

The Barritt’s at Acadia National Park

And, everywhere we hiked, there were wild blueberries. The bushes were scrubby and low to the ground, sometimes nestled between two rocks. The intensely sweet, purple fruit was smaller than anything I’d seen at home. We would collect the berries on the trail by the handful and bring them back to the campground to eat on our cereal at breakfast the next morning. It was probably not the most appropriate behavior for a national park, but to a youngster, it felt like part of the grand adventure of living outdoors.

I’ve returned to Acadia several times as an adult and revisited favorite spots. It’s actually more challenging to hike the South Bubble when your father isn’t carrying you. While I won’t make the trip this summer, this simple and wholesome Blueberry-Almond Granola from "Everyday Food" reminds me of Acadia’s wild terrain and those wonderful hiking adventures that live in my memories.

©2009 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Sunday, August 02, 2009

Plum Scrumptious

Plum Clafoutis. The name has to make you smile, assuming you can even pronounce it. My ability to spell the word correctly is often challenged. But, talk about a perfect summer dessert.

The clafoutis hails from the Limousin region of France and is traditionally made using whole black cherries. The cherries are placed in a buttered dish and baked in a golden batter of eggs, milk, four and sugar.

It’s one of those rustic and simple French country desserts that makes you wonder why we get all tied up in our Good Humor and Ben & Jerry’s. It takes only minutes to assemble, and puffs up like a peacock. Clafoutis is part crepe, part popover and a dash of Dutch Baby wrapped around luscious summer fruit.

Plums are an easy and sumptuous substitution for the black cherries as in this recipe. The fruit – combined with the batter – gets all rich, soft, jammy and complex, kind of like an extraordinary Bordeaux.

Plum Clafoutis. The word actually means to fill. I may not be able to pronounce it, so I’ll just call it scrumptious.

©2009 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Thursday, July 30, 2009

What’s Up Doc?

The mini is back. Not the mini-skirt sadly, but teeny, tiny carrots.

These tender, diminutive carrots are proliferating at Restoration Farm and they couldn’t be more precious. These sunny little crunchers just make you happy. One CSA member squealed “How cute!” the minute she laid eyes on them.

I decide to milk the “cute factor” for all its worth. I leave a little shock of green on the top of each and steam them for about 2-3 minutes, so they stay crisp and spunky.

The warm carrots are dressed in marinade adapted from “The Big Book of Preserving the Harvest” – mix ½ cup of honey, 2/3 cup of white wine vinegar, 2 tablespoons whole mustard seeds and 1 teaspoon salt.

The carrots are chilled in the marinade and then served on a bed of lettuce as an adorable first course.

Cute, huh?

©2009 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Sunday, July 26, 2009

The Burger Truck, the Burger Babes and the Great NYC Cattle Roundup

We’ve been tracking the vehicle’s maneuvers on Twitter, but it has remained elusive. Until now.

The celebrated La Cense Beef Burger Truck has been sighted in various midtown neighborhoods, but never our own. It was beginning to sound a little like the legend of Sasquatch. And, it’s been a bit frustrating to read tweets about working stiffs on Park Avenue storming the truck while those of us in the mid-50s have to settle for PB&J.

Then, Zany spots the morning tweet (or should it be a moo?). The Burger Truck will be positioned within a ten minute walk from the office. This day just got so much better!

Zany is elated. She is intoxicated by the thrill of the chase. “We’re on a New York safari,” she says. “We’re on the hunt.”

Mad Me-Shell’s carnivorous instincts are in high gear. Barely have we reached the corner of 58th Street and 8th Avenue and she screams, “There it is!” unable to contain herself.


“I’m like a sniffing police dog,” she admits. “If there’s grilling meat anywhere around, I will smell it.”

The brilliant blue truck looks like a slice of the big Montana sky. It is High Noon, and we approach the window. Brian is at the window, and is quite willing to round out our culinary experience with a few Burger Truck campfire stories.

“What we’re trying to do is raise the awareness of the New York public of natural, 100 percent, grass-fed, Black Angus cattle,” he says. “The best way to market your product is on the streets of Manhattan and if you bring your product straight to the people on the street, you can’t go wrong.”

We’re just glad he picked a good neighborhood.

We’ve heard rumors about how one must eat a La Cense Beef Burger, and we ask Brian to confirm. He tells us the proper etiquette is to consume the burger, just about naked, minus condiments.

“The burger on the bun with the caramelized onions is delicious,” he says. “What you want to taste is the quality of the meat, not the ketchup.”

We carry away our bags filled with three burgers on sesame buns, topped with American cheese and caramelized onions, with pickles on the side. We also make a point of grabbing the “frequent user” cards.

We pick a spot to dine near the fountains of Columbus Circle. “You have to enjoy it in the great outdoors,” says Mad Me-Shell. “You have to be one with the cow.”

We unwrap our burgers and inspect the goods. First impressions matter. “Hurry up and take all your pictures,” urges Zany “There’s not gonna be much left soon.

We succumb.

“It tastes like you’re eating a steak,” says Mad Me-Shell. “I feel like I could saddle up my horse and head back to the paddock after eating this.”

She’s right. The burger is perfectly cooked and tastes almost buttery, with a slight hint of charcoal. The savory and sweet caramelized onions are alarmingly tasty.

I try to calm my racing pulse and make a little polite mealtime conversation. “I feel the rumble of the subway underneath us,” I point out.

“I think that’s your stomach asking for more,” says Mad.

We literally wolf down our burgers. The time is now 12:16 PM. From placing our orders to post-meal gratification, a mere sixteen minutes have elapsed.

“That was good,” murmurs Zany, her voice just a little thick with protein pleasure.

“Can we take a field trip to Montana?” asks Mad.

That kind of says it all.

Zany is now struggling with post-truck food depression. “We’ve got nothing to look forward to,” she moans. “I need adventure.”

She might just get her wish, as I hear that Mad Me-Shell is now tracking a mysterious Schnitzel Truck which will soon take to the streets of Manhattan …

©2009 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Thursday, July 23, 2009

A Kalestrom

While the Northeast has been battered with rain this summer, there is a healthy “kalstrom” underway at Restoration Farm.

I confess that I am a “kale convert.” It took me quite a while to warm up to some of these leafy greens. I’m pretty adventurous, but I just didn’t know what to expect. So I’d always default to what I knew. Was I missing out!

Kale has an earthy, almost “meaty” flavor. I have found that a simple stir fry of kale in garlic and oil makes a satisfying meal. Kale is a member of the cabbage family, and has been around for a while. It was a favorite in ancient Rome. Kale is rich in vitamins A, C and calcium and high in protein.

Now, I’m hoarding kale. I don’t want a bit to go to waste. So, if I’m not going to eat it immediately, I steam the deep green leaves for no more than three minutes, and then shock them in cold water.

Next, roll the leaves in a clean dish towel to absorb the excess water, place them in a zip lock bag and store them in the freezer. That means there is plenty of kale on hand to add a wild touch to recipes like this rich, flavorful frittata:

Frittata with Onion, Kale and Italian Dry Sausage

3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 medium onion, sliced
1 clove garlic, sliced
¼ pound Italian Dry Sausage or other hard sausage, sliced in rounds
1 bunch kale, cleaned, stems removed and leaves coarsely chopped
Salt and fresh ground pepper to taste
1 cup grated Pecorino Romano cheese
8 eggs
Chopped, fresh parsley

Preheat the broiler. In a large, non-stick, oven-proof skillet, heat oil over medium heat. Sauté onion and garlic until golden. Add sausage and continue to sauté until softened.


Add the kale and sauté briefly until bright green and wilted. Meanwhile, whisk eggs, cheese and chopped parsley in a separate bowl. Turn the heat on the frying pan to medium-low and add the egg mixture. Let the eggs set between 5 to 6 minutes. Turn the pan slightly from time to time to allow the eggs to set. Reduce heat to low, cover the pan and cook until the eggs are completely set for 10 to 15 minutes. Finish the frittata under the broiler, and heat 1 to 2 minutes until golden brown. Serve warm, or at room temperature.

Hang on for the inevitable kalestrom. Your taste buds won’t know what hit them!

©2009 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Sunday, July 19, 2009

A Midsummer Night’s Pizza

I dream of zucchini pizza. There’s something magical, even Shakespearean about it.

Each summer I can’t wait to slice those paper thin disks of bright yellow and green and scatter them over yeasty dough. Sure, I’ll make lots of zucchini bread, and zucchini soup, but there is absolutely nothing better than dining on the deck as the sun sets and the sky turns pink, with a glass of red wine and a thin crust pizza bursting with the flavors of summer.

The zucchini and summer squash are erupting from the ground at Restoration Farm. It’s almost as if Puck himself has given them a little bewitching boost.


My pizza is piled high with the best of Restoration Farm – zucchini, summer squash, newly harvested garlic, and kale. The zucchini is sweet and crisp, the kale slightly bitter, and the garlic, toasty and mellow.

Restoration Farm’s head grower, Dan Holmes tells me things are looking good for the berry patch. I steal down the tree lined path to take a look and the signs are encouraging:


Can a luscious berry tart be far off?

Visions of summer berries begin to fill my head, for the summer squash may soon be no more yielding but a dream.

©2009 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Sunday, July 12, 2009

LiV Vodka and Rich Stabile’s Potato Field of Dreams

Long Island’s original vodka is distilled from 100 percent potatoes.

When Rich Stabile’s family summered on Long Island’s East End in the 1970s, the North Fork’s wine industry was just taking shape. But, at an early age, Rich had his eye on another iconic agricultural product – the Long Island potato.

“I was always struck that there were all these potato fields and wondered, Why isn’t anyone making vodka out here?” Rich says. The question stayed in the back of his mind for years.

Fast forward to the summer of 2009. Rich is President of Long Island Spirits and we are talking in the company’s newly-opened tasting room, located in a majestic, refurbished antique barn in the community of Baiting Hollow. Long Island's only state-of-the-art distillery is housed on the ground floor. Visible from the back balcony is a sweeping panorama of one hundred acres of potato fields. And, the signature product sold by Long Island Spirits is LiV (rhymes with five) Vodka, distilled from 100 percent potatoes.

Rich Stabile is President of Long Island Spirits, which produces LiV Vodka.

According to Newsday, potatoes were once the dominant crop on Long Island. Records show that in 1945, there were 72,000 acres of potatoes in Nassau and Suffolk. But over time, suburban growth and unfavorable economics began to encroach. Many Long Island vineyards were actually planted on former potato fields, reviving a flagging agricultural economy. Farming has shifted to flowers and ornamental shrubs, yet even today, commodities like potatoes and duckling still retain a kind of legendary status on “the Island.”

The Long Island Spirits tasting room opened in May 2009.

Under Rich Stabile’s direction, Long Island Spirits is likely to spur a renaissance for the humble spud. He is genial and obviously passionate about his business.

“For me, the Long Island potato is such a unique commodity,” says Rich. “It’s one of the best potatoes available in the world, actually, and it’s got a perfect starch content to make vodka, so I wanted to take advantage of that.”

Long Island Spirits processes 25,000 pounds of potatoes each week.

Initially, he took a different path, working in electrical engineering, the semi-conductor industry and several start-up companies. As he traveled the world, he would visit wineries and distilleries for pleasure. The experiences stoked his entrepreneurial spirit.

“I was fascinated by distilleries because there’s year-round activity where, with a winery, there’s a flood of activity for eight weeks.”

He educated himself further, with classes at Cornell and additional training. “I really immersed myself in understanding spirits.” Soon, he’d assembled a formal business plan and partnered with a childhood friend, Dan Pollicino.

Of course, if you build it, they will come.

“We’re ecstatic with the response we’ve gotten from the market,” says Rich. Since its introduction last year, LiV is now distributed in six states with more anticipated. The vodka was named “Best in Class” at the NY Spirits Awards and was given a score of 92 by “Tasting Panel Magazine.”

Long Island Spirits is based in an exquisite renovated barn in Baiting Hollow, NY.

He walks me through the production area. There are huge sacks of tawny-skinned potatoes piled against the wall.

“We go through about 8000 pounds of potatoes a day,” he says. “It helps for sustainability out here and keeping an alternative market for potatoes.”

The potatoes are ground into a fine mash and heated with water and enzymes, which initiates the breakdown from starch to sugar. From the outset, the head distiller is always monitoring the mixture from a taste perspective. The mixture is then moved to a fermentation tank and cooled slightly.

“At that point we’ll add yeast, and that begins the process of turning the material into a potato wine, if you will. Up until this point, it’s very much the type of process you’d see in a winery.”

After several days, the mixture is transferred to the still. Rich points to two 650 liter copper stills with towers that reach to the roof of the barn.

“What makes us different is we have rectification columns, and this allows you to legally make vodka. You need to bring vodka up to over 95 percent alcohol before you can blend it down. So we do a triple distillation.”

The final bottling is completed by hand and the result is a truly unique product. “It’s got a different viscosity. Less than one percent of all vodkas are made from potatoes because it’s a much more expensive process,” he explains. “Eighty percent of a potato is water, so you’re starting out with much less of a starch-based element to begin your fermentation process.”

A bottle of LiV Vodka evokes the ocean off Long Island.

A bottle of LiV Vodka is distinctive – crisp, clean and elegant, adorned with a cool blue and white label.

“We wanted to be about what’s inside the bottle, plus we wanted to convey the image of Long Island being an island itself,” Rich explains. “So there’s actually a light blue and a dark blue transition, from the top to the bottom of the bottle, showing the depth of the ocean.”

And, if a young Rich Stabile took notice of the burgeoning Long Island wine industry, it may well have influenced his nuanced take on Long Island vodka.

“One of the first things you’ll notice that’s different is the "nose" on our vodka,” he tells me. “It has almost a citrus, floral scent to it, where a lot of other vodkas are almost ethanol. The other distinctive characteristic is the mouth feel. It’s got a buttery, almost creamy feel in the mouth. And, that viscosity is very evident. You have vanilla, anise, and some people taste banana. It’s got a very nice, soft finish with a very light burn.”

Long Islanders can be a tough audience, but they have welcomed LiV Vodka with enthusiasm. “They’re very proud that we have a world class vodka distillery here,” Rich says. “We’ve build such a strong, loyal following.”

That’s likely because Rich has created the quintessential local product. He’s managed to distill the essence of his life experiences, his talents and the agriculture and landscape of a region and capture it in a bottle of LiV Vodka. He says it’s a dream come true.

“I love getting up in the morning and coming here,” says Rich. “I love the beautiful aromas that come out of the distillery. It smells like mashed potatoes when we’re fermenting. Every day just seems to get better.”

Several signature cocktail recipes have been created using LiV Vodka and Rich says the “Hampton Classic Cocktail” evokes the essence of Long Island.

Hampton Classic Cocktail (used by permission from Long Island Spirits)

1.5 oz LiV Vodka
1.5 oz Cranberry Juice
2-3 mint leaves
½ tsp. sugar
1/3 lime

Preparation:

In a mixing glass, muddle mint, lime, and sugar. Combine with LiV Vodka and Cranberry Juice and shake with ice in a shaker. Strain into a highball glass filled with fresh ice, and finish with an orange peel.

Long Island Spirits is located at 2182 Sound Avenue, Baiting Hollow, NY 11933

©2009 T.W. Barritt all Rights Reserved

Tuesday, July 07, 2009

Foraging in Schoharie, New York and Wild Watercress Soup

Peter Pehrson dons a baseball cap, pulls on a pair of shiny black rubber boots and removes a recycled mesh potato sack from a storage cabinet. It is time to search for ingredients for dinner.

I am a complete neophyte when it comes to foraging. My innate hunter-gatherer skills consist of an aggressive “slam and shake” technique I’ve perfected when the M&Ms fail to fall out of the vending machine.

Almost anyone you meet in Peter’s community of Schoharie, New York will tell you that the area is known as the “bread basket of the American Revolution.” The soil is incredibly fertile and residents have taken great pride in what they grow for hundreds of years. The bounty of Schoharie is found, not only in the cultivated fields, but in its wild and natural places.

The place formerly known as Watercress Farm.

In literary archetype terms, Peter might be described as a wanderer or an explorer. He has lived in a tenant farmhouse on the property for three years - next to a coop of majestic Rhode Island Reds - and he seems to instinctively know the land and its resources, pointing out edible flora along the path as we walk. He leads me down a steep hill through tall grass to a crystal clear stream.

“This place was once called Watercress Farm," he tells me. He wades down into the stream, towards a lush island of vegetation. He works quickly, pulling out clumps of watercress leaves that have been nourished by the cold water. Soon the mesh bag is filled.

Peter Pehrson forages for wild watercress.

He pulls out a sprig and examines it. “Let’s make sure there are no frog eggs on this,” he says. Such are the hazards of foraging.

He offers me a bite of the watercress. The leaves have a sharp, peppery taste. The bag is bulging with greenery. Some is used to flavor a hot rice dish served at dinner that night. Once cooked, the watercress takes on a milder flavor. Some of the remaining watercress is packaged up in bags and sent home with me.

Wild watercress is quite perishable, so I work quickly. Back home in my kitchen, I cook up a large pot of Wild Watercress Soup, a brilliant emerald-green puree of watercress, potato and onion cooked in chicken broth. The soup tastes incredibly vibrant and alive, a bit like spinach and pepper, a bit like the valley of Schoharie. A good foundation recipe for watercress soup can be found here.


Peter has become a vocal advocate for local food and preserving the harvest in Schoharie. He and a dedicated group of individuals are working hard to establish a cooperative cannery in the area, where farmers and gardeners would bring their bulk produce and have it preserved in glass jars and cans. Their vision is to add value to the local economy, but also extend the life of Schoharie’s most prized resource – its locally grown produce.

Peter has done home canning for years and says that the process addresses a very basic human desire. “Everyone has a drive in them to provide for themselves,” he says. “I want enough in the winter, so that I can enjoy the summer in a jar.”

At one time, local canneries were far more common in communities. As more focus is placed on the importance of locally grown food, there is a national resurgence in home canning, and a number of local community groups are hoping to follow the lead of the team in Schoharie as they pursue their vision. You can learn more about the proposed Schoharie Co-op Cannery and their plans at their website.

©2009 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Friday, July 03, 2009

Three Years for Culinary Types


Once upon a time, there was food.

Food is the one narrative that connects us all. Culinary Types turns three-years-old today and it is my sincere hope that when you visit this place, you’ll encounter a tasty dish, an exceptional epicurean, an adventurous eater or a compelling chef, but most of all, a good story, seasoned just right.

To celebrate our third anniversary together, I present a tasting menu of my favorite “culinary types” from the past three years:

The Romance of Cake

Vintage Cookbooks

Summer Memories

Shopping for the Perfect Pantry Item

The Hand of Friendship, The Art of Breakfast

Heirloom Baking on Long Island

A Weekend in Cheese Boot Camp

Croissants in the French Countryside

Food & Storytelling in the Hudson Valley

A Spirited Business

Food on the Road

A Small Goat Dairy in the Heart of Long Island Wine Country


Ancestral Baking
Thanks for your support and thanks for reading!

©2009 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved