Sour Cherry Jubilee

I love sour cherries. Which is funny, since I don't much care for cherry pie or cherry preserves -- the two most common ends that sour cherries are known to meet. My sour cherries, like scrumptious, glistening jewels, are destined for greater things than pie.

Most recently, shrubs -- just before booting up the laptop I whipped up a batch with said cherries + brown sugar + apple cider vinegar that will ferment into mouth-watering deliciousness over the coming days -- but last night might have been the creme de la creme of sour cherry usage thus far. I'm talkin' scones. And not just any scones. The kind one's boyfriend writes specifically to thank one for the next day. And I quote: "My goodness these are some fine scones. Love that they are soft. And the cherries and walnuts make a fine pair." Just a little something I whipped up for dessert while I drafted the weekly newsletter for the Suitland farmers' market at 10:30 at night....

I wish I could claim that it was my original recipe, but it's not. My cousin Sonia has been raving about the cooking blog Chocolate and Zucchini for years. Last night, I tried yet another winning recipe -- slightly adapted to accommodate the quart of sour cherries I'd picked up at the 14&U farmers' market last weekend. And with some lemon zest. And vanilla. And, okay, maybe it's kind of a new recipe after all, but it was inspired by the C&Z blog.

Sour Cherry and Walnut Scones

• 1 2/3 cup whole wheat pastry flour
• 2 TBSP sugar
• 1 tsp baking powder
• pinch of salt
• 3 TBSP butter, chilled
• ½ cup plain Greek yogurt
• 2 TBSP whole milk
• 1 tsp vanilla
• zest from 1 lemon
• a handful of chopped walnuts
• ¼-½ cup sour cherries, pits removed

DirectionsPreheat the oven to 400°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a medium bowl, combine the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt.

Dice the butter and blend it into the dry ingredients with a fork or pastry cutter, until no visible lump of butter remains.

Add the yogurt, milk, vanilla, and lemon zest. Mix in the nuts and cherries. Use your hands to quickly blend them in until the dough forms a ball. Handle the dough as lightly as you can. (Avoid over-mixing, or the scones will become tough!)

On a floured surface, pat the dough into a flattish round, about 1-inch thick. Cut into eight wedges with a knife or a pastry cutter.

Place the wedges on the prepared baking sheet, giving them a little space to expand. Bake for 15 minutes (or longer, if your oven stinks like mine does), until the top of the scones is set and lightly golden. Cool on a wire rack.

What's that you say? Why, yes, I do frequent a number of farmers' markets these days. Between working with various markets in the area and teaching cooking at a middle school summer camp, I seem to have fallen way behind on blogging in recent weeks. So much for summer being the slow season.

Thanks for coming back to see me, dear readers, and please accept this stellar scone recipe as a sign that I have not forgotten you. You may forget all about me when you're lost in the bliss of eating all eight of them yourself. Yes, you'd better make a double batch.

Summer Root Veggie Coleslaw

Okay, so maybe kohlrabi isn't a root vegetable -- it's actually the swollen stem that we eat, and in this recipe I chop up some of the smaller leaves as well. I'm sure there are some other inaccuracies I was unintentionally promoting, most likely involving my Spanish translations of the two recipes I made at the 14&U farmers' market earlier today.

It was the day we were to have a group of Spanish-speaking families touring the market as part of the second year of the Fruit & Vegetable Prescription Program pilot in DC, and I did my darndest to translate things as best I could. Seriously, though, what do you do when a language doesn't have a name for a vegetable because the culture speaking that language doesn't have people who tend to grow or eat it? I continue to refer to kale as "col rizada" -- "curly cabbage" -- and determined that the closest I could find to the Spanish word for kohlrabi was "colinaba" -- which, when I translated it back into English from Spanish online came up as either "kohlrabi" or "turnip." Well, I suppose salad turnips could be delicious in the coleslaw I was handing out.

Since I ran out of the copies of the English language version of this latest favorite recipe, and a number of shoppers at this morning's market begged me to post it, I needed to get this recipe up asap.

For your root -- and other veggie -- tasting pleasure, here's the much sought after recipe for a killer summer coleslaw.

Ingredients

1 large kohlrabi, peeled and grated (you can chop up some of the leaves as well)
1 tsp salt
3 TBSP mayonnaise
2 TBSP sour cream
2 TBSP olive oil
2 TBSP vinegar
1 TBSP sugar
2 tsp celery seed (or finely chopped celery)
1 small red onion, peeled and minced
1 clove garlic, peeled and minced (or 1 garlic scape, finely chopped)
2 carrots, grated
1 bunch radishes, grated or thinly sliced*

Directions

In a small bowl, combine the grated kohlrabi with salt. Set aside.

In a large bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, sour cream, oil, vinegar, sugar, and celery seed.

Squeeze the grated, salted kohlrabi to remove any excess water.

Stir in the onion, garlic, carrots, radishes, and kohlrabi. (It’s okay to use your hands to mix!)

Enjoy as a cool salad alongside grilled meat or fish, as a sandwich topping, or as a midday snack.

*You can also grate other veggies in. Cabbage, for a more traditional coleslaw, perhaps, or beets -- but beware they will turn everything pink. Or salad turnips... you know, the other colinaba. ;)

Many thanks to my friend and colleague, Carolyn, for giving me the basic recipe for the slaw (that I then took in directions she might not have foreseen).

The most wonderful time of the year

It's not often that the Kentucky Derby, Cinco de Mayo, a full moon, and the opening of one of my favorite farmers' markets coincide. What did you do on this most celebratory of days?

Me? I went to a baseball game, then a Derby de Mayo party -- mint juleps and margaritas. But before that, I headed to opening day at the 14th & U Street farmers' market for the 2nd annual DC State Fair Seedling Swap. I dropped off my heirloom Black Prince tomato and zinnia starts and took a raffle number, but since I had a half hour or so before the drawing I poked around the market to pick up ingredients for class on Monday. And brunch tomorrow. And, okay, fine, some strawberries and asparagus and sunchokes and a few other odds and ends for myself for the coming week. This may well be my favorite time of the year for produce. (Though peach and tomato and sweet corn season always puts in a strong bid, now that I think of it.)

I made my way back to the swap just as they were getting ready for folks to start choosing plants to take, admittedly somewhat overladen with produce and wondering how I would get everything back the mile straight uphill to my apartment, when my eyes fell on the sole raspberry plant in the mix. Oh, I wanted it -- thorns be damned. Luckily my number got drawn second, so I had almost first dibs. I am now the proud owner of my very own berry plant! (I also managed to snag a little bitty okra plant and a small pot of basil that are now happily ensconced out back.)

Have you been to a seedling swap before? It was my first time. Virginia peanut seedlings and brown turkey fig cuttings were definitely the most popular items on offer and were scooped up early on. But there was still excitement right up til the end. In fact, I think someone could have lost an appendage in the final moments as folks dove for the heirloom tomatoes and peppers and herbs.

Here I am with my friend Marisa and her husband and their Hungarian peppers and basil just moments after the final frenzy of the seedling swap:

Look how proud we are, us novice gardeners. I can't wait to dig a nice hole out back and mix in some rich worm compost for my new raspberry plant. I think I'll call him Scratchy (in honor of the little reminders he left me as I struggled to get him out of my crammed-full pannier back at home)...

Whisked away

I believe I am pretty good at recognizing superior baked goods when I taste them. Like the divine lavender cupcakes we transported to my friend Meredyth's wedding the six and a half hours from Columbia Heights to Charleston, WV (by car, yes, I'm a slacker, but we carpooled, at least) earlier this month. Or my friend Alessandra's focaccia, which I used to feast on regularly back when we both lived in Mexico. Or the outstanding sweet and savory goodness on hand as I pinch hit on some sales for the good folks at Whisked! earlier today.

I'd been clued into the two-woman baking operation during a few of my farmers' market cooking demos over the summer and was pretty impressed, but as I do a fair bit of baking myself and tend to have more of a salt-tooth than a sweet-tooth I don't generally splurge on those sorts of things. When my friend Heather told me she braved yesterday's wind and sleet and 30 degree weather to pick up a 6-inch savory apple tart (with caramelized onions and bleu cheese, ohhhhh) from the ladies at the 14th & U St farmers' market, I made a mental note to check out their wares more closely at my next opportunity. And wouldn't you know it, later that very afternoon I got a call from Robin (who runs both the 14th & U St market and the Bloomingdale market) asking if I might be able to help out selling a variety of Whisked goodies at her other market, to test out whether it might be a good fit for the bakers to join the Sunday market next season.

Well.

Yes, of course.

So this morning Ollie and I made our way to 1st & R St, NW at the crack of 9am. (Yes, that's early for this nightowl, and had it not been so beautifully sunny there would have been a lot more grumbling about the frost-covered ground we biked over to get there. I was glad to have my new faux-fur-lined boots to keep me warm. Thanks, mom!) The market managers helped me set up a display table and Jenna came by with a number of crates of... beautiful... flaky... buttery treats, and talked me through the names, ingredients, and pricing of each. Then the baker zipped off to a catering gig and I was left to my own devices, arranging the pear tarts and pumpkin coffeecake and cheddar-jalapeño loaves, suggesting folks try bits of the beef pot pie or sweet potato pie made with local sweet potatoes from Garner's Produce, cutting up bits of molasses-spice cookies and turtle bars and boozy blackberry handpie. "Boy oh boy, just look at those granola bar samples. They're spectacular. Go on, try one...."



Just two hours after the market opened, I had nearly sold out! Dozens of market shoppers strolled over because they'd heard about the pumpkin swirl bars or the salty oat cookies or the brownie whoopie pies, but alas, I told them, I'd already sold out of the large box of 'em. I really hope the artisanal baking duo decides to frequent the Bloomingdale market -- I'm certainly not their only fan. I wasn't the only one whisked away by my tastebuds this morning. Not by a long shot. Jenna and Stephanie, should you ever need an assistant -- especially a taste-tester -- call me. Any time.

Let me entertain you

It's summer. While you're grilling or picnicking with friends and family, you may be on the lookout for tasty, easy recipes to pull together that require minimal cooking. Lord knows I used a few such dishes this weekend for mom's retirement party: lemon juice and holy basil marinated zucchini "noodles," honeydew with fresh mint, cherry tomato and cucumber salad, refrigerator pickles.

Here's a little something I just made at the 14th & U farmers' market this past Saturday. It was quite popular. Free food always is, I suppose, but people seemed genuinely interested in the recipe: I saw a few excited market shoppers beeline from my demo station to the farm stands to pick up the requisite ingredients. I do believe Cherry Glen will have more of their divine chevre next week, and hopefully North Mountain Pastures will have more pickled beets so I can pick some up myself to make my own batch of...

Pickled beets and goat cheese on baguette slices

Ingredients:
-1 baguette, sliced into ¼ to ½-inch coins and brushed with olive oil
-1 pint jar of pickled beets (sliced or grated)
-1/4 cup chevre (or other soft goat cheese)
-a handful of dried fruit (raisins, chopped up dried apricots, dates, figs) OR fresh herbs OR toasted walnuts
-salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Toast bread slices on a cookie sheet in the oven, on the grill, or in batches in a nonstick skillet on the stovetop until golden. Top each baguette slice with a bit of pickled beet and a spoonful of goat cheese. If your pickled beets are really tart, try topping the goat cheese with a few sweet raisins. Or garnish with fresh herbs (a spring of basil, parsley, fennel, etc.). Or should you want to base the appetizer more closely on the dish that inspired it -- roasted beet salad -- you can top the goat cheese with a toasted walnut.

The recipe makes about 2 platefuls (enough for 4-6 people, as an appetizer… assuming you don’t eat one plate yourself while making them) and you can assemble it in just a few minutes for impromptu entertaining. While I am rather insistent on seasonal cooking wherever possible, the core ingredients are all available year round. And it's equally good with a light red or chilled white wine. Imagine that.

A word of caution: beware of talking with the market manager while slicing bread or you may end up with one of these:











It doesn't look bad now, two days and half a tube of neosporin later, but it was a gusher. Thankfully, I didn't cut through the nail. Just as importantly, I didn't bleed all over the food. I got everything cleaned up and myself bandaged before the next round of eager tasters arrived at the cooking demo booth. (Honestly, I don't slice into my hand that often....)