The Hand of Friendship, the Art of Breakfast

A framed, counted cross-stitch sampler hangs in the foyer of the Foster Harris House. It depicts a whimsical country cottage with the words, “Let me live in a house by the side of the road and be a friend to man.”

The sampler is partially hidden by a large hat tree, but if you manage to spot it, it tells you a great deal about the owners of this bed and breakfast by the side of the road in Little Washington, Virginia.

The first time I stayed at the Foster Harris House I had a feeling of déjà vu, as if I’d met innkeepers Diane and John MacPherson before. Perhaps it’s their natural warmth and generosity that embraces you from the moment you enter the inn, creating the feeling that you’ve known them forever.

Diane and John are my heroes. Several years ago, they quit their day jobs in California and now live, work and cook in a town of 186 people where exquisite food is the lifeblood of the community – from a renowned five-star restaurant just a block away, to local vineyards and surrounding organic farms.

Diane orchestrates ambiance and amenities. Each room at the Foster Harris House is elegantly furnished yet supremely comfortable. John is the chef who sees artistry in simple ingredients like eggs and bacon.

Diane greets me with a smile and a hug upon my arrival. Within minutes, she presents a glass of chilled Pouilly Fuisse on a silver tray. I unwind on the deck reviewing hiking options for the days ahead. Shortly, John is at the side door and we are chatting about my career journey and his efforts to preserve the abundance of yellow heirloom tomatoes available at the nearby organic farm where they have a share. No sooner is it mentioned, when he offers me a creamy, golden tomato soup with a smoky adobo base and garnished with a perfectly pert basil leaf from the kitchen garden. John then offers bowls to two other guests. The soup is delectable after a long day of travel and practically glistens in the late afternoon sun.

Virginia has been blessed with a series of perfect days, and breakfast is set on the deck beneath a large, green market umbrella. While John works in the kitchen, Diane serves the four-course menu to guests. Each meal opens with an elegant parfait of fresh fruit with vanilla custard yogurt and granola, and there is always a basket of warm scones direct from the oven:

The main entrées are towering, imaginative designs of flavor and texture. Ingredients are impossibly fresh and bursting with color. Can one possibly select a favorite among such creations?

Each morning is better than the day before. New guests whisper to me, “Have you gotten this kind of breakfast everyday?” They can’t quite believe that such exquisite works have been prepared especially for them. When they think they can’t eat another bite, Diane takes special pleasure in announcing a “sweet finish,” perhaps a Lemon Liebchen with Blueberry Coulis, a miniature stack of pancakes sprinkled with slivers of luscious chocolate, a Cream of Wheat brulee or a Strawberry Cheesecake Crepe:

On the night before my departure – over an excellent glass of Bordeaux-style wine – I question John about the sense of place the MacPhersons have created in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. His answers reflect a genuine delight in the guests who visit their establishment and the ability to connect with them for a brief moment in time.

“You get to see them in a place where they are happy and come to celebrate something,” John reflects. “They leave, and they are appreciative and satisfied. It’s a job well done.”

On my final morning, I am reluctantly preparing to return home. I am sitting in the kitchen, as John checks a couple out. I am just within earshot and can hear their conversation.

“Just one night, and we feel restored,” the woman says gratefully.

John responds with an ebullient and spontaneous, “Fantastic!”

The woman will likely pass the counted-cross stitch sampler in the foyer as she departs, but whether she notices it or not doesn’t really matter. Intuitively she knows that the art of friendship is more than just a clever saying, but a way of life at the Foster Harris House.

Recently I traveled through the Virginia countryside, discovering the local food, history and hospitality of what is called “the birthplace of the nation.” I visited the Foster Harris House in Little Washington, Virginia August 18 through 25, 2008.

©2008 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

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

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

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

Jedediah Hawkins Inn - A Taste of Honey

What better way to spend a glorious summer afternoon than to dine with a dear friend at the home of a legendary sea captain, set amidst the farmlands of the North Fork of Long Island?

Built in 1863 and restored in 2005, The Jedediah Hawkins Inn is a towering Victorian mansion, a colorful edifice against the deep blue sky. JoAnn notes that Miss Haversham of Great Expectations must surely be lurking in one of the upper rooms. Inside, we are treated to fine Long Island wine and exquisite entrees, created from locally grown produce. Ensconced at a window looking out on the garden, we savor “The World’s Greatest Lobster Roll,” appropriately named …

… Seared sea scallops atop a dressing of summer corn, asparagus and bacon …

… And a dessert that has me absolutely buzzing – a Honey Tasting, with different varieties of honey from wildflowers and lavender and a scrumptious stack of cheese and home-baked cookies. The luscious honey flavors range from molasses to citrus to spicy rosemary. It is like a sun-drenched stroll in a summer garden.

… All under the watchful eye of the dashing seafarer, Jedediah Hawkins.

©2008 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

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

Hawaiian Wedding Cake

The date hits my Outlook Calendar faster than you can say “Waikiki Beach.” My friend Ms. Zany, the Queen of the Office Theme Party and her partner-in-crime Mad Me-Shell are at it again. They’ve scheduled the second annual celebration of Hawaiian Shirt Day. If this festive occasion doesn’t ring a bell, you’re not alone. It’s not a Hallmark card holiday. Zany made it up. The corporate dress code gets tossed out the window. The required uniform is a gaudy Hawaiian shirt – the cheaper, the better.

We immediately get to work on an authentic Hawaiian menu for the celebration. And, it turns out that “authentic Hawaiian” can be pretty loosely interpreted. We settle for “mainstream Hawaiian” which means lots of pineapple and coconut. Forgive us. It’s the summer. It’s the silly season.

There is a grand tradition here. In the 1950s, faux-Hawaiian was all the rage. It was the era of Trader Vic, shrimp sates and Mai Tais. All one needed was a pineapple and a few toothpicks, and one could embark on an exotic culinary adventure right at home.

Of course, I get the dessert assignment. So I dive headfirst into the Internet to see if I can retrieve a few pearls. I come up with Hawaiian Wedding Cake.

Whether or not Hawaiian Wedding Cake is genuine ethnic food, or was ever served to celebrate nuptials is debatable at best. But, the recipe leaves a blissful trail of crumbs throughout the Internet and has clearly been a longtime favorite for potluck dinners, brunches and church cookbooks. A quick blending of crushed pineapple, shredded coconut and walnuts dressed in cream cheese frosting produces a sweet, textured sheet cake rich with tropical flavors and nutty complexity.

There are many variations, some using vanilla pudding, some using Cool Whip, and some that replace the flour with crushed graham crackers. I come up with a 1991 citation for Hawaiian Wedding Cake from the Akron Beacon Journal, and another reference that suggests the original recipe was first published in the magazine Southern Living about a quarter-century ago. Hmmm. That means Hawaiian Wedding Cake could have actually been created in Ohio or Alabama. This gives new meaning to the term “destination wedding.”

It is certainly reflective of the stalwart tradition of convenience cakes. Any recipe that calls for a 20-ounce can of crushed pineapple is surely not from the Jacques Torres School of pastry. I do find a separate Hawaiian wedding connection. There is an authentic Hawaiian dish called Haupia, a coconut-based dessert that is similar to a gelatin and is served in squares. Haupia is also used as a topping for wedding cakes in Hawaii. Perhaps my “suburban-style” Hawaiian Wedding Cake was an attempt of mainlanders to emulate this island tradition, using easily-purchased supermarket staples.

The receptionist does a double take as I march through the lobby in my Ray-Bans and teal-green Hawaiian Shirt covered with white hibiscus. Our Hawaiian Shirt Day banquet is worthy of an island paradise, even if it is spread out in our large conference room. We feast on sweet and piquant Maui Onion Dip and Chips …

Aloha Meatballs, bejeweled with green peppers and maraschino cherries ….

And, Chicken Fruit Salad, glistening with pineapple and rice …

Mad Me-Shell conjures up a SPAM cheese ball, an orb so perfectly round and imposing that it looks like one of the outer planets of the solar system. Perched in a festive lady bug serving dish, the SPAM cheese ball is savory with just a hint of smoke, and reminds me of the luscious deviled sandwich spreads of my childhood.

I know my regular readers may have a hard time seeing “the S-word” in one of my posts. Now, don’t go sending me hate mail or anything. There is some serious culinary history behind Mad Me-Shell’s menu selection. You may not realize that SPAM is a bit of a gastronomic phenomenon in Hawaii. Introduced during the military occupation of World War II, SPAM is still so popular that it is sometimes referred to as “Hawaiian Steak.” Residents of Hawaii consume the most SPAM per capita in the United States. Credit Mad Me-Shell with both authenticity and audacity in her choice of a canapé.

The banquet concludes with the Hawaiian Wedding Cake, a majestic sea of coconut whitecaps, where glistening maraschino cherries bob gently. Zany and Mad Me-Shell are flush with the excitement of a tropical island holiday. You can almost hear the strains of the ukulele and feel the warm ocean breezes wafting through the conference room. Can the hula girls be far behind?

©2008 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Tapas in the Spanish Way for a Summer Afternoon

For all the dog days of summer, there are also the gems – brilliant, balmy, seemingly-endless days filled with affectionate, caressing breezes. There is no clock ticking, no next appointment. The sun seems to shine forever, the family is gathered around the table after a long while, and the only real decision to be made is whether to refill the wine glass… again. A day perfect for a summer feast, made of simple ingredients – perfect for tapas in the Spanish way.

Briny marinated olives (Verdeho de Aceitunas) and sauteed Marcona almonds (Almendras Fritas) pair up with a fine, venerable Rioja …

Tomato-rubbed bread (Pan con Tomate) from Catalonia is topped with savory Serrano ham, Spanish anchovies and Manchego cheese …

White bean salad (Ensalada de Judias Blancas) is a colorful marinade of tiny bites …

Chilled white garlic soup (Ajo Blanco), the forerunner of gazpacho, is a cold, frothy puree of garlic cloves, almonds and breadcrumbs …

Peppery Spanish Blue Cheese is spiked with a touch of brandy …

Cod salad with tomato and onion (Esqueixada) is fresh with the flavors of the sea …

The classic tapas dish, Garlic Shrimp (Gambas al Ajillo) is spicy and pungent, the garlic cloves the consistency of butter …

Finishing with a classic, silky crème caramel …

We eat until we are truly content. At long last, the sun goes down, the evening fireflies emerge and we can begin to dream about the next summer feast.

©2008 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

In a Pickle

My friend Ms. Zany tells me they pickle everything in her hometown of Erie, Pennsylvania – beans, beets, red peppers and even hard cooked eggs. Some people – who clearly see themselves as slick urbanites – raise an eyebrow when she mentions this, and I assure you, she mentions it fairly frequently. I like Zany. She knows what’s important in life.

Yet, for all my prowess in the kitchen, I’ve never pickled anything. Oh, there is the occasional Saturday night when I … okay…too much information.

Something about sweet, savory, tangy foods with bite resonates deep within. I was said to be such a fan of pickles as a child that I was once given a jar of pickles as a birthday present. Not too tough to shop for. Or maybe I should just pick up and move to western Pennsylvania where I’d clearly fit right in.

When Zany sparks an idea, it usually comes to fruition, and I’ve kind of been on the lookout for something to pickle – at least something that doesn’t have to get up for work the next morning.

So, I do a quick round of the Hallelujah Chorus when I see that the organic Sisters of Sophia Garden are offering pickling cucumbers in this week’s harvest. I gather up my five allotted virgin pickles and head for the kitchen to get started.

Before we get into the details of pickling, here’s a short history of an old and venerable kitchen technique from the Oxford Companion to American Food and Drink. Did you know that pickles are thought to have first been eaten in ancient Mesopotamia, now known as Iraq? It was there that a number of foods were preserved in saltwater brine. The word “pickle” is derived from the Dutch word “pekel” and Dutch colonists brought the technique to North America in the 1600s. The practice was often necessary to preserve foods during long journeys and over lean winter months. Various ethic groups have developed different recipes for pickling, from kosher pickles that come from the Jewish community, to the sweet pickles loved by the English, or the tiny spiced cornichons craved by the French.

The August issue of Cooking Light is my guide, and its “Cooking Class” on Curing & Pickling introduces me to the stress-free method of “refrigerator pickling.” This approach requires no boiling or sterilization, so I forge ahead with a recipe for Bread-and-Butter Pickles. Pickles prepared in this manner must be refrigerated at all times, are perishable, and will usually last up to two-weeks. I discover that the bread-and-butter variety is known for its sweetness and the high sugar content in the pickling brine.

The cucumber slices are tossed with kosher salt and chilled for up to two hours. I then prepare a hot mixture of granulate sugar, brown sugar, white vinegar and cider vinegar, spiked with mustard seed and celery seed, which is poured over the cucumber and sliced onions.

The slices then sit for an hour at room temperature, and must then be covered in an airtight container and refrigerated for 24 hours to allow the flavors to meld and the cucumbers to "pickle."

The results are a crisp and bracing summer snack, the just-picked crunch of the organic garden buoyed by sweet and biting flavors that pop on the palate.

And all this time, I thought the stork delivered pickles straight to the kitchen!

©2008 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Thank God for Organic Vegetables

I am a true believer. Organic vegetables from the community garden are a blessing.

Amen!

It’s even better when the organic garden is run by a group of Dominican nuns. Maybe I’ll get extra credit in heaven for doing something good for the Earth.

That looked doubtful a few weeks ago, as I’d systematically avoided every available opportunity to do my required 15 hours of work in the garden as part of my share. My afterlife was beginning to look like Lettuce & Lovage & Fire & Brimstone.

You will no doubt rejoice to learn that I’ve averted hellfire and actually completed my first shift harvesting green and burgundy beans. It was hot as blazes, so maybe I just think I’m on my way to heaven, and refuse to accept the inevitable. But it was fun to meet a couple of fellow gardeners and spend a few hours picking vegetables and really sweating for a change. I’m not trying to claim an epiphany or anything, but there is something fundamentally simple, healthy and good about harvesting food and cooking it with your own hands.

It’s a little like Christmas in July each time I make a pick up at Sophia Garden. There’s always something new, and the color, texture and variety is a welcomed challenge to my culinary creativity.

Ten heads of garlic – fresh, tender and sweet – are now the seasoning of choice:

Burgundy beans turn green when steamed, but offer a festive contrast in a salad with cherry tomatoes:

A single head of cabbage becomes a tart, sweet-and-sour soup, worth several days of meals:

And, brilliant yellow summer squash and just-picked onions are sautéed with garlic for a fluffy frittata:

It’s just like manna from heaven. I can’t wait to see what the Garden of Eden offers up next!

©2008 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved