Happy farmers market week!

Did you know this week is National Farmers Market Week? It may not have a Hallmark card section yet, but it's something to celebrate. Hug a farmer! Show up at a friend's house with a local watermelon! Try a new seasonal recipe!

You might imagine my elation when a colleague of mine asked me to do a chef demo at the market earlier today. I was especially honored as the market was to be visited by the undersecretary of the USDA. (That is quite a celebrity in my line of work.) He even stopped by for a bite of my raw zucchini noodle salad -- a brief visit as he was learning all about the Foggy Bottom market's awesome farmers and food benefits initiatives in action.

Here I am, all packed up after a successful demo. Note the trendy "I heart farmers markets" temporary tattoo. (It may be hard to see quite how overloaded Ollie was after the first market visit in two weeks -- my kitchen was quite bare when I returned from Connecticut on Monday night. That situation has been fixed.)

See, mom, I occasionally have a picture of myself on here.... in motion, as usual.


A feast for some of the other senses

It's not every day that a celebrity chef performs at one's local farmers' market. It's nearly as rare as weather that is 55F and sunny in Washington, DC these days. Kenton and I basked in the wonderfulness of both anomalies yesterday.

As I picked up bunches of kale and beets, tubs of yogurt, loads of butternut squashes and potatoes and sunchokes, we began to notice flocks of folks in chef coats chattering in Spanish all around us. A culinary school field trip, I figured. One of them looked kind of familiar, but I couldn't place him. ("Watch more of the Food Network," I can practically hear my students suggesting. They know *all* of the celebrity chefs.) When my shopping buddy and I made our way to the information tent, I learned from one of the market volunteers that there was going to be "a surprise" of some sort that morning, and moments later....

Is that percussion I heard just then? Some rhythmic tapping on... could those be pots and pans? Was that a flute? Cellos?? Did I just overhear a french horn at the farmers' market?! Okay, that was definitely a trombone.... Kenton and I followed the music toward where a crowd had gathered, and there was Jose Andres, standing near a marimba made of water-filled glass bottles, smiling broadly while conducting an orchestra of chefs from his various restaurants. What fun: a flash mob chef concert! We stayed for a few songs, and Kenton kindly snapped these pics. Not that I think they should quit their day jobs -- I've tasted some of their (delicious) work at Oyamel, Jaleo, and America Eats -- but those chefs were pretty good for non-professional musicians.

What a delightful surprise on a surprisingly delightful morning. Hoping this is a sign of impending good weather at last, and other fun market surprises to come!

No green for greens

This collection of six people (plus one dog) counted as our midafternoon "rush" at the market today.

A number of our regulars showed up, but many familiar faces were missing, from the neighborhood crew as well as the usually very supportive Census Bureau across the street. Less than 50 shoppers gathered over the course of the 5-hour-long farmers' market in Suitland today -- midway through week two of the (so far as I can tell) pointless government stalemate. Yes, this lack of people working or having money is sure to fix the nation's healthcare system. And what's this I hear about cuts to food stamp funding starting next month? Aaaarggggghhhh!

Yeah, I'm mad. Good food is a human right. Now how are folks supposed to eat?

People are hungry, but they're counting their pennies, uncertain about when they're going to be able to work -- and get paid -- again. Me, I spend what modest funds I do have on quality ingredients and cook up a storm with the extra time I have these days. But I don't have a family, or a car, or a mortgage. After two weeks of abysmal sales and no end in sight, I'm not sure how our market's going to keep going. Somehow I don't think Congress is going to offer backpay to our farmers (or backsleep to the worried market managers)....

This furlough stinks.

Making healthy food affordable

Earlier this week at the Suitland farmers' market, a woman came up to the information table with her EBT (food stamp) card. She wanted to spend $1.50 at our market. "Well," I explained, "We can only do whole dollar increments. But you know, since we match food stamps here, you can actually just spend a dollar and then we'll give you another dollar to buy fruits and vegetables. It's part of our Maryland Market Money program. You'll have another fifty cents to use on something today. We match up to $10 every week when you use your food stamp card."

She smiled the biggest smile I'd seen all day. "Wait, so then I can get another bell pepper?" Yes, ma'am, and a cucumber. Affordability shouldn't keep anyone from being able to buy healthy food. "See you next Tuesday!"

And word is spreading. Slowly but surely, folks are learning about our market and what we're trying to do out here. A few reporters have called in recent weeks, elated at the small dent we are putting in the historic food desert in southern Prince George's County. We're getting there. Now if we can just keep people from stealing our market signs, we might get the word out a little faster....

Know any local printers willing to donate a couple dozen "Farmers Market This Way" signs?

Opening day!

When your colleague shows up with a giant bunch of balloons spilling out of her truck, you know it's going to be a good day at work. So it went for opening day of the much-anticipated Suitland Farmers' Market. Perfectly clear, sunny weather, gorgeous fruits and veggies grown by a core group of local farmers, lots of volunteer helpers, and tons of friendly shoppers... not a bad way to start the season. Sure there were some hiccups, but together we made things work.

Barbed wire on the top of the fence popping the balloons? No problem, tie them down lower on the fence.

Times printed incorrectly on the signs? No sweat, use duct tape to write out the correct times over top.

No place to pick up lunch? Well, we are in a food desert -- that's why we're here! -- but you can grab a mediocre sandwich down the block and slice some farmers' market tomatoes and cucumbers on top to jazz it up. How about a handful of local spinach, too, or some chopped up garlic scapes? Maybe some grown a few blocks away?

I'm not going to lie: I was especially excited to see some of the fruits of our labors from what we'd planted with students at Drew-Freeman, but there was plenty of beautiful produce at the traditional farm stands as well. Which is good since quite a few community members and folks at the Census Bureau across the way came to check things out and support the area's first farmers' market in a long, long time. According to Delante, my official record-keeper -- a first-time volunteer who I may have won over forever with a quart of fresh strawberries -- we had upwards of 170 shoppers over the course of the 4-hour market. Not too shabby, all things considered. Most importantly, nearly everyone left with smiles like this one, and similarly loaded shopping bags.

I arrived home last night slightly sunburned, moderately loaded down with fresh produce, and completely exhausted. And proud: we did it!!!

You can quote me on that

Did you catch last week's Food Section in the Post?

I almost missed it, busy as I have been, but luckily Kenton's mom sent me a copy. She thought I'd get a kick out of the feature article on the wacky world of DC-area farmers' market newsletters. I did enjoy reading about some of my market friends' fun and quirky weekly updates. Just below the second page of the article, my eyes fell on a short piece on new markets opening this season... one in which I am quoted. Extensively. I am pleased that the reporter contacted me a few weeks ago about including the soon-to-open Suitland market in a piece about innovative new community farmers' markets. I am just a little anxious about the details.

It is true that I will be the market manager. It is true that the market will benefit the neighborhood and nearby federal workers. It is true that we will have awesome local farmers from Maryland and Virginia... What is not exactly right: the market doesn't start until next month. (To be fair, back over the winter, the community had discussed an April start date, but we'd still much to work out, so we moved the opening to June.) And there were a couple of things that I had tried to emphasize that were completely left out. In particular, the amazing partnerships that brought the whole thing about.

Reading the piece, it sounds like I am putting this market together all by myself. That is hardly the case. The lion's share has been handled by my friends and colleagues, Jessica and Janet, who have been working with farmers and other small food producers and extension officers over the cold weather months. Where is the mention of the STEER Center -- the driving force behind the market that "has been in the works for several years"? Yes, yes, I am sure there are character and column limitations, so the friendly reporter couldn't include everything I wanted. (She was writing the piece -- not me -- and to her credit did hit on a number of the key details.) Me, while I am very much looking forward to opening day on June 4th, I am hardly a veteran in the neighborhood. I only got involved with the Suitland community a year and a half ago, when I helped some middle schoolers start a garden. True, I do love those students, and am elated that the program has since evolved to include a hoophouse -- the source of the "hyper-local produce" mentioned in the Post article -- but the idea of a market in the Suitland community had been discussed for years before I came on the scene.

What reporters decide to include can be funny. Just the other day I was laughing out loud while reading a chapter of my friend Forrest's (excellent) book that touches on a much more extreme interaction with the local media. (Not much time to myself lately, so it's taking me awhile to get through the preview copy Forrest gave me, er, wow, over a month ago. And now it's available on Amazon. Shoot. I'd better sign off of the computer and get back to reading Gaining Ground before Forrest comes out with the sequel!) There's a great scene in chapter 10 where a reporter comes to interview Forrest as he's just starting his first season of selling free-range meat on the family farm in rural VA. The young farmer walks his guest around the farm, pointing out the happily grazing animals, answering questions, and clarifying -- he thinks -- any confusing points. The article comes out, and Forrest stares disbelievingly at the selective interpreted quotes taken out of context in the local paper. His explanation of the complexity of flavor that comes from the unique blend of grasses and clover, the terroir, in the resulting beef is printed as "You can taste dirt in the meat." I don't want to give away the whole take on manure management -- you're just going to have to pick up a copy of the book for yourself. It's too funny.

Luckily for Forrest, "[e]vidently, weed-fed cattle with meat that tasted like dirt had a certain appeal after all." And luckily for me, a lot of other good details were included, but I want to make sure that the official interwebs record clearly states that I am not single-handedly starting up a farmers' market in Suitland. It is very much the labor of love of quite a few people, unmentioned in the final article. It is for you that I write. Thank you. For everything. Looking forward to our grand opening in a few weeks!

(Did I mention the market starts on June 4?)

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)...

Call the Mayor today: a quick way to support healthy food in DC!

During yesterday's monthly meeting of farmers' market managers from around the city, I learned that Mayor Gray is finalizing the budget for the 2013 fiscal year and is considering designating a small amount to farmers' market incentive programs for the very first time in our city. But he needs to hear from DC farmers' market supporters about making nutrition incentives a priority. Currently, the budget does not include any funding for farmers' market incentive programs. (I know! Embarrassing. Boston's Mayor Menino realized the need for city-supported Bonus Bucks way back in 2009....)

On behalf of the D.C. Farmers Market Collaborative, I have a call to action for you:
Please call Mayor Gray TODAY!

I know it's a beautiful day, so maybe you can use this call from your cell phone as an excuse to step outside for a few minutes....

Please call the Mayor's Office at 202-727-6263 -- okay, or you can stay at your computer and email vincent.gray@dc.gov -- and relay the following message:

"My name is ____ and I am a supporter of D.C. farmers' markets, especially [name of market(s) you support]. It is critical that you designate $150,000 into the fiscal year 2013 budget for farmers' market incentive programs. These include SNAP (formerly the Food Stamp Program), WIC, and Senior Farmers Market Nutrition Program (FMNP) recipients. This District support would help leverage additional investments from foundations and other donors. It would help low-income consumers double the amount of fruits and vegetables they can purchase at participating farmers markets and generate local economic activity."

Background:
By providing an incentive for SNAP, WIC, and FMNP shoppers, farmers market incentive programs benefit low-income consumers, bolster the local economy, and promote consumption of fruits and vegetables. For example, a SNAP recipient who redeems $5 of these federal benefits at a D.C. farmers market that operates a "Bonus Bucks" program would then receive $5 worth of those Bonus Bucks (matching incentives) to spend on healthful, locally grown food. This means that the SNAP recipient ended up with $10 to spend on produce that day. In DC, such grant-funded pilot programs are working effectively at eight markets (in fact, the Columbia Heights and Ward 8 markets did so well they had to apply for additional funding!) and are expanding to even more DC markets (including a few some of you all helped to raise funds for back in December -- remember?) in the 2012 season.  These incentive programs benefit low-income consumers, but they also bolster the local economy and promote consumption of fruits and vegetables.

Please forward this message far and wide! We need your help!

What a day to have my hands in the dirt

One of the things I love about my job(s) is the flexibility to work somewhat on my own schedule. So when days like this past Friday happen, I'm out there with my hands in the dirt.

It was truly one of the most gloriously beautiful days on record. I didn't even need a jacket at the crack of 8:30am when I started puttering around in the garden plot out back. (Today wasn't too shabby, either, though taking into account the time change, I didn't emerge from bed til after 11am. I partly blame Kevin's bourbon and barbecue birthday bash last night for that one....)

What better way to celebrate the onset of spring and its requisite sun and warmth than by spending quality time in the garden? I also couldn't think of a better way to celebrate my new job as the outreach specialist for my local farmers' market. Yep, it's official, as of Thursday morning. (Okay, admittedly, the celebrating began with a couple of drinks at Wonderland on Thursday night.) Starting this week I'll be helping to organize outreach efforts and cooking demonstrations and even a bit of media around the Columbia Heights Community Marketplace.

[Don't worry, I still have my other... six jobs... and volunteer stuff... and writing... and I'm more than half way through the DC Master Gardening program. I'm still managing the garden at Drew Freeman, and will be helping the brand new Wangari Gardens get started in coming weeks, so in theory playing in my garden plot could be considered research...of the kind I love: involving my hands, dirt, plants, and lots of warm sunshine.]

See those carrots? Those are the ones that self-seeded last year after I let a couple of intentional-but-underwhelming carrots go to flower, and though small they are pretty tasty. I removed them to make space for some parsnips and spring onions and snap peas. (If you're wondering about their ultimate fate, most ended up in a variation of my favorite lentil soup, a pot of which I cooked up tonight and will be devouring in coming days. Want some? Stop by for dinner tomorrow.) Beets and chard will be in the next little planting section over. Radishes, too -- see how far I've come? -- to help break up the soil. Garlic's still looking good, and I'm looking forward to some garlic scapes in the next month or so. The strawberries and parsley and cutting celery seem to be doing well in the coldframe. And once I get my soil test results back for the other small plot of dirt out back, I have grand plans for tomatoes and herbs. Yes, a girl could used to this weather. And you'd better believe I can find other things to do in the garden with more of it. So bring on the sunshine!

Give me five (percent)

So I've been hanging around outside my local Whole Foods a lot over the past week. Admittedly, I did sneak in for a bit after a shift of handing out fliers on Friday night to pick up a few goodies from the miscellaneous cheese bin tucked in the corner of the store behind the wine section, but mostly I have been freezing my toes off with my colleague Robin to promote "5% Day." It's kind of a big deal.

You see, two area Whole Foods stores are giving 5% of all sales on December 14th to support a bonus dollars program for low-income folks at 4 small farmers' markets here in the District (including two that I often work at, and which would benefit HUGELY from a partial matching dollars program). That's right, 5% of sales on anything from olive oil to nuts to wine to toothpaste -- all day and all night, 5% of whatever is purchased at the P Street or Georgetown Whole Foods stores today, Wednesday, goes directly to supporting food stamps. So if you're in the city and you need to pick up some groceries, come in and stock up on the things you need anyway and you will help make fresh, local fruits and vegetables more accessible to all.

Wow, that just rolled off the fingertips. I've said some version of it quite a few times these past few days, often speaking to the person's back as they brush past midway through the first sentence as if I were an annoying chihuahua yipping at them. "Excuse me, sir, do you know that this coming Wednesday is 5% Day? Whole Foods is donating 5% of...." The worst have been the ones with headphones who just put their heads down and shake their heads (something about the total lack of interest in engagement with the world/humanity really irks me about them), but there are plenty of other ridiculous antics I've witnessed. I feel like some kind of cultural anthropologist, studying the habits of middle-to-high-income urban shoppers and taking detailed notes on my mental clipboard: some pretend that they're talking on their cell phones (while others actually are), others give me a wide berth and hope that I won't have a chance to chase them down, and still others wave me away before I even open my mouth, as if I am some servant that has displeased them.

I am not a salesperson by nature. (My students laugh when I tell them I'm an introvert, but it's true!) However, this particular program is such a no-brainer: minimal effort is required of people and the result is such a tangible, direct public good. I swallowed my natural disinclination toward walking up to total strangers on the sidewalk and attempted to engage them. It's rough on the ego, I tell you, getting turned away time and again, but overall there were quite a number of friendly people who stopped to hear more about the program and ask questions. This was especially true of the more laid back Sunday shoppers, particularly couples and older, non-white, single shoppers. "Wait, so I don't have to do anything except shop for the things I need anyway? Sure, I'll come back Wednesday." I wanted to hug them. If I see them on Wednesday, I just might. (The post-work, hungry, busy-busy-busy professionals were definitely the least friendly; receptivity to me or my message did not seem to depend on gender.)

I'm a City Girl. I know it gets annoying with people asking you for stuff on the street all the time. Give me this, buy this, sign this, but sometimes a cause is worthwhile. I'm the person who more often than not will at least stop to listen to a canvasser's spiel. (Let me be clear: I'm all for advocacy and signing petitions, but I don't think stopping people on the street to ask for money is very effective... or appropriate, frankly. I have been known to purchase a copy of Street Sense from time to time, but that's different.) Standing outside a store someone is already going into or out of to promote a special program at that very store which benefits the neighborhood, I'm fine with that, but some apparently couldn't be bothered. "People," I would occasionally grumble, "I'm not selling anything or asking you to sign anything. I'm just here to help spread the word about 5% Day on Wednesday, when this Whole Foods is giving 5% of all sales for the day to help us increase food stamp programs at local farmers' markets." I tell you, if not for my belief in the effectiveness of the SNAP (food stamp) program at farmers' markets, I would've probably given up on handing out informational fliers about an hour into my first afternoon approaching strangers to encourage them to return to the store to load up on staples for the winter.

One guy paused to begin to lecture me about how food stamps are not the solution, how he didn't see why his tax dollars should go to feed people who didn't care to work. "Excuse me? People who don't care to work?" Boy did he stop to belittle the wrong outreach person: the twenty-something white kid got an earful about the atrocious levels of unemployment in the city, a tirade about how hard it is to make ends meet or find sufficient paid work even with a graduate degree and substantial experience these days, and a mini lecture on generations of disenfranchisement and poverty among low-income populations before meekly nodding and accepting a flier. (Not sure I'm going to see him at 5% Day, but I couldn't help myself.)

Food stamps are not the solution to the problem of hunger, they are something of a band-aid covering a small scratch on the much larger body of systemic power inequities. Sure, I get that. People shouldn't be on food stamps or other government programs indefinitely. We need to educate and empower people to be able to support themselves. But until there are sufficient jobs and authentic opportunities for folks to support themselves and their families, to nourish and nurture them in safe and secure homes, I for one don't mind my (currently rather meager) taxes helping folks less fortunate than me. And if I can help directly by buying a few things I was planning to purchase in coming months anyway, if I know that 5% of my purchases will go to a program in my city to bolster critical access to healthy food, I'll stock up on shampoo and almonds and a few other things after my outreach shift at the store later today. Maybe I'll see a few of you in the miscellaneous cheese section.

Come on, Irene

I've never had a guest blogger here on the Bikeable Feast. One thing about having your own blog is that you have total control over the content. Moo ha ha ha ha ha! Oh, the power!

Actually, speaking of power, I am lucky to have it after this weekend's hurricane, unlike some of my neighbors who suffered quite a beating from Irene. The past few days' crazy weather has both tormented and inspired some of us in the DC area (and all up the coast, I suppose -- my best friend up in Montreal hasn't had electricity since yesterday morning, which her kids loved, as it meant lots of candles and marshmallow roasting). Sandbagged inside my basement apartment during much of Saturday, I got to thinking about how different people prepare for and react to natural disasters. It often brings out the best in people, some kind of latent kindness and helpfulness that we are otherwise too busy and caught up in our own lives to extend. (Like my next door neighbor Henry calling to see if I needed help or sandbags amid the torrential rain. Not that he isn't usually helpful or friendly, but he was concerned about my apartment flooding again.) I thought about writing a little something about this myself, but frankly the best encapsulation of the triumph of local community in the face of environmental adversity came in the form of the weekly email from my friend Michele over at the Crossroads Farmers' Market. I've excerpted her note below:

"Though most DC area farmers markets closed on Sunday (and understandably so!), a bunch of brave Takoma Park vendors loaded their trucks during the height of the storm and drove in for business as usual. Which meant that I was on for my regular Sunday gig, selling at the Takoma Park farmers market for Pennsylvania-based Keswick Creamery. At the time, I was wholly unimpressed. Ok, after a sleepless night of whipping winds, crashing branches, and no electricity, I was downright cranky at the prospect of setting up market on a powerless street with gusts of wind still swirling through. After all, who in their right mind would be out to shop?

My question should have been: who wouldn't? In sweatpants and galoshes, the neighborhood came out. With trees and power down throughout virtually all of Takoma Park, the market was the only game in town. While the rest of the area was at a virtual standstill, our local food supply was vibrant and intact, our local farmers still able to provide a brilliant array of fresh, nourishing produce. So, though grocery store shelves were wiped of bread, the local bakeries provided; though people had stocked up on non-perishables, the abundance of fresh, local fruit, tomatoes, greens, and dairy ensured that folks would be well fed with real, whole foods until power was restored.

And perhaps equally important? It didn't matter than the ATMs weren't working and that refrigeration was scarce. People came to the market to congregate, to share stories, to laugh, to find their friends and neighbors and engage within a collective space. The takeaway: while this weekend's storm could have been so, so much worse, it was a tremendous reminder of how absolutely critical, how non-negotiable and essential, it is that we collectively build and support a thriving, robust local foods system. And it was a wonderful reminder of the ways in which food, markets, and the allure of a perfect heirloom tomato create such fertile ground (no pun intended) for fostering community."

In tribute to our local food system, to our farmers who need some extra support after loss of crop and revenue in the storm, come check out the Crossroads Farmers' Market this Wednesday from 2:30-6:30pm. (7676 New Hampshire Avenue, rain or shine -- and shine seems likely!) I suspect there will be a good crowd in attendance, especially for the tomatoes following my first ever canning workshop on salsa making with the Padres Latinos group that morning... in Spanish. (Que bueno, eh?)

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....)

The family jewels

Now, I don't come from wealth. If I have kids one day, the family heirlooms will most likely be in seed form. Bagdad melons, Polish garlic, and a whole lot of tomato varieties. Those are my family jewels. Though most folks have heard of "heirloom" varieties in the context of tomatoes, there is actually a wide variety of heirloom fruits and vegetables from around the globe, carefully cultivated and passed down for generations.

But speaking of heirloom tomatoes, just this morning I was organizing an heirloom tomato tasting with red, green, yellow, orange, and purple varieties at the Bloomingdale farmers' market. Many of these luscious varieties from Snow Bear Farm, Truck Patch Farms, and Reid's Orchard made their way into my cooking demo. Mild White Queens, sweet Hawaiian Pineapples, tart German Greens, mellow Brandywines, Purple Cherokees, Pink Oxhearts... mmm.... Incorporating fresh bread from Panorama Bakery and topped off with fresh fennel fronds and a pat of quark (Keswick Creamery's German-style cream cheese with which I am becoming intimately familiar), the seasonal bruschetta samples were going as quickly as I could crank them out. Not that I was going at a maddening speed, but there wasn't much of a break in the hour and a half demo and when things slowed even a bit I was asked all sorts of questions as I doled out rounds of samples: where can I find these tomatoes? do you grow any of these yourself? which one is your favorite? how did you become a food educator? do you teach adults? do you have any recipes for cold summer soups? (Do I ever....)

It was a lovely way to spend the early part of my Sunday (the late part being absorbed with the Legg Mason tennis tournament finals and a couple pints of beer): working with beautiful produce, preparing and sharing tasty food, encouraging folks to get excited about their new favorite variety of tomato. I could get used to this. Because I ran out of copies at the market, and because some of you, dear readers, were unable to make it to the market this morning for this tasty treat, I thought I might post the recipe here on the blog. (So there are a lot of cooking-oriented posts these days. Can I help it if this is the most bountiful time of the year in terms of fresh produce?)



Here it is, the much sought after

Heirloom Tomato and Summer Peach Bruschetta recipe:

Ingredients:
-1 baguette, sliced into ¼ to ½-inch coins
-4-5 heirloom tomatoes, peeled, seeded, and diced
-3-4 ripe peaches, peeled, cored, and diced
-1-2 tsp balsamic vinegar
-a handful of fennel fronds OR fresh basil, finely chopped
-salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
-optional garnish: 1/4 cup cheese (feta, chevre, quark, grated parmesan, etc.)

Directions:
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. Combine remaining ingredients in a medium bowl. Top each baguette slice with a generous spoonful of the tomato-peach mixture. Top with a sprinkle or dollop of cheese and a spring of basil or fennel. Serve immediately. Don’t expect leftovers.

*The quick version: don’t peel the tomatoes or peaches. Thinly slice baguette, but don’t toast it. Otherwise, proceed as directed. You can also make the tomato-peach mixture a day ahead and store in the fridge.

Bring us your squeaking, your pied, your untrued wheels

Ever since I picked her up from her tune-up at a bike shop across town in early July, I've been noticing an odd clicking feeling in Ollie's pedals. It only seems to happen when I'm in the lowest few rear gears, but so far as I could tell the clicking wasn't affected by moisture, temperature, terrain, or how much stuff I was schlepping. The shop had installed a new chain and cassette (covered, thankfully, by my Keep It Rolling plan), and supposedly replaced all of the cables and housing (part of the not inexpensive mid-level tune-up), but this clicking was new (a freebie?). I noticed the pedal pressure oddity and a notable-yet-not-constant squeaking on my way home from the shop, but rode Ollie around for a few days just in case it was simply due to some of her new parts settling in.

Though I've ridden a fair number of miles by now, and though I'd worked briefly at a bike shop (mostly updating the website and moving bikes in and out of storage), what did I know? I knew only enough to ascertain that something was amiss rather than what the cause might be. I didn't even know the names of all of the parts that could be involved. Maybe it was just the cables stretching, the mechanic suggested when I called. And the sporadic, high-pitched squeaking on one side? Was I riding around on a suicide cycle?? I was hoping for a second opinion.

Thus I was glad to happen upon the friendly guys who were staffing the free bike repair tent at the Bloomingdale farmers' market this Sunday. Jeff quickly determined the source of the odd clicking in the pedals. As I leaned in, he pointed out how in certain gears the chain was clicking against the...um... the metal part that usually keeps it lined up correctly. (I think it's part of the derailleur, technically.) We tried adjusting the...er... placement of the clamp that holds the derailleur in place, but that seemed to make it worse. Maybe it's not quite the right part that was installed during the tune-up? Maybe there is a more precise adjustment that needs to be made in a fully outfitted bike shop? Hmm. The mystery, to a degree, continues. We didn't fix everything, but I left the market feeling much better about things, and glad that someone else noticed the pedal clicking and the occasional and inexplicable high-pitched squeak. I was also glad to learn that I was not riding an imminent-deathtrap around, though I was advised to bring Ollie into a shop as soon as I am able.

I love these sorts of programs, run for free by folks who just want to help and teach and empower others. (I find myself doing this quite a bit myself with food education, but I do need to pay my rent so I have been trying to get better about charging something for the more substantial work.) There are a number of free bike clinics around the city, mostly at farmers' markets, including the Petworth (Friday), Glover Park (Saturday), Mount Pleasant (Saturday), and Bloomingdale (Sunday) markets.

The Bike House folks are also running mobile bike clinics at various locations around Wards 7 & 8 -- apparently wards that are not only food deserts but bike shop deserts as well. Yes, this is a program after my own heart. Those who are interested in helping out the Bike House can find information here on volunteering (or donating or contributing items on their wish list).

So thank you, kind Bike House peeps. I didn't have more than $2 on me to contribute to the donation jar for your friendly services, but I can offer this poem that Ollie and I wrote in thanks:

Bring us your squeaking, your pied,
Your untrued wheels, you need not take the bus,
The flats and brakes we can repair market-side.
Send these, the carless, traffic-tossed, to us:
We lift our multi-tools so all may ride.

Need help buying food? Ask me.

Saturday marked my first visit to the Ward 8 Farmers' Market, set up next to the impressive ARC facility on Mississippi Avenue in Southeast DC. I'd been hearing about the market for a number of months from my friend Michael (the market's manager) and the chance to do some SNAP outreach with my friend Crissa (of DC Hunger Solutions) presented me with the perfect opportunity to check out this seasonal market not so very far from the Southern Avenue stop near the end of the green line metro.

SNAP -- for those new to food policy or this blog -- stands for the federal Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, which in DC can be in the form of EBT (Electronic Benefits Transfer) cards, WIC (Women, Infants, and Children) vouchers, and/or Senior FMNP (Farmers' Market Nutrition Program) coupons. In short: food stamps. Thanks to a group called Wholesome Wave, the Ward 8 market, like a growing number of farmers' markets in the area -- including the Columbia Heights Community Market, the Crossroads market, and some of the FreshFarm markets -- offers Double Dollars. Most of these subsidized markets will double up to $5 or $10 (per shopper, per market) the amount of fresh, local food that low-income shoppers can purchase using EBT, WIC, or FMNP payment methods... but the Ward 8 Market is the first one I have ever been to that will double all of these without a limit on per-market usage. So someone with, say, $30 to spend can get $60 in fresh, healthy fruits and vegetables in a single visit. (I can totally consume $60 in fresh produce in a week. So can a normal family of four.) Now that's pretty awesome.

[Actually, speaking of awesome, my favorite story about the Ward 8 market involves a local group of do-gooders who call themselves The Awesome Foundation: Having been chosen from among the inaugural pool of applicants for the first round of DC's Awesome Foundation grants, Michael told me of an afternoon a few months back when a woman handed him a paper bag full of cash -- $1,000, to be exact -- so that his fledgling market could offer free, snazzy canvas bags for first time market shoppers to tote their produce. True story. And much less shady than many of the recent goings on involving piles of cash and officials in this fair city of mine....]

While the Ward 8 Farmers' Market is not overly large -- two produce vendors, a potted plant seller, a guy selling fresh bread and frozen pastured meats -- it was well attended by a nice mix of loyal regulars and first timers who came by the information tent to pick up their double dollars. I had donned a bright green "Need help buying food? Ask me" t-shirt and as I worked alongside Crissa to hand out informational fliers and recipe cards, I quickly learned that most folks that I spoke with at the market who can receive food assistance benefits already know about and receive them. There were a few who asked for more information on behalf of friends or relatives who were new mothers or elderly, but most were pretty savvy. (I will say that it was a little unsettling to realize that these days I would actually qualify for food stamps myself. Eep.) It was a friendly group of neighborhood shoppers and farmers who, I must say, were pretty generous souls. I mean, how often does a complete stranger offer me some of his delectable fresh peaches from the market on the walk to the subway? (Okay, that sounds sketchy, but it totally wasn't!) I learned as much about the generosity of the human spirit as I did about food assistance programs that day.

I am not sure how typical Saturday's market day was -- the site was shared with an FCA Community Day -- but it was a pretty steady crowd and I saw lots of produce and vouchers exchanged. I have a hunch that Michael and his small cadre of local food producers will continue to contribute to building a happier, healthier community of local food shoppers out in Ward 8 for quite awhile.

"Oh come now, don't sound so surprised..."

"...I told you massaged kale salad was delicious!"
I found myself saying this quite often these past few days -- first during a cooking class with some (rather surly) high schoolers at the Lederer Youth Garden on Friday morning, then again during my shift as the resident chef at the Columbia Heights Community Marketplace on Saturday morning. Yep, that was me in the chef's tent. After two hours of crunching bowl after giant bowl of curly kale at the farmers' market with my bare hands, I'm surprised I could even flex my fingers by lunchtime. That just goes to show you how strong my muscles are from biking (death-gripping the brakes as Ollie and I fly screaming down the 13th Street hill) and gardening (ripping up tenacious weeds). And perhaps most of all from the flurry of sourdough bread baking of late (and ripping off hunks to slather in butter). All that kneading, wooh! Boy could I have used a massage myself after all of that, but alas....
It was intense, but fun and totally worth it. Quite a number of folks -- skeptical high schoolers, adventurous market shoppers, curious parents, even a local farmer or two -- were brave enough to try my concoction of kale, apples, red onion, slivered almonds, and cave aged feta. And they loved it. In fact, so many folks loved it that Dragonfly Farms sold out of kale within an hour, and I quickly ran through the photocopies of the recipe I had on me. I've heard from a number of folks via email requesting the surprisingly simple-yet-tasty and infinitely adaptable recipe in the days since. (Yes, I've apparently gone from giving out fake phone numbers at salsa clubs a year ago to handing out my email to total strangers at farmers' markets. I'm not sure what to make of that.)
For those who missed Saturday's market but have been wondering what all the hullabaloo about massaged kale is about, here's the recipe.
Let me know what you think. But just to give you fair warning: it's so good that a friend of mine told me of an incident a few months back where his significant other held him practically at knifepoint in the kitchen insisting that he make another batch after accidentally eating the leftover massaged kale salad she was planning to take for lunch. (Don't worry, it all worked out and they're getting married next month.)

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Substitute Cheesemonger

A number of months ago, I interviewed for a full-time cheesemongering position at a local shop that will remain nameless (but which I have boycotted ever since they didn't bother to call and let me know whether or not I got the job -- jerks). But today I got to flex my dairy selling muscles as a pinch-hitter for Keswick Creamery at the White House farmers' market. The Pennsylvania-based dairy has some top-notch stuff, so with a little advice from Allison and I helping folks to select the right cheese for their needs, it practically sold itself.

Sure, it was hot as heck today, but we hid in the shade of the tent with the cheeses on ice, and as I did my best to mask the fact that I was standing in a pool of my own sweat I advised folks as best I could. Oh, you're making an omelet with spinach and tomato? Well, I'd advise the Herbed Feta. Taste. Taste. Sweat. Taste. Drink water. Smile. Hmm, now you say you're looking for something mild and spreadable? I'd recommend the plain Bovre. Yes, it's a pasteurized cow's milk cheese, but similar to chevre. Well, it's made with a yoghurt culture, so it's just a little bit tangy. Taste. Drink water. Taste. Sweat. Smile. Oh, you like spicy? Well, try the Dragon's Breath. Oh, just you wait, tough guy, the burn will sneak up on you. Mmm hmmm. See? Drink water. Sweat. Smile. Well, lucky you, you've bought the last Quark. Did you try it with the cherry almond jam? Yes, it's delicious. And the gentleman a few tents down is selling it, so you can recreate this taste in your very own home. I daresay we did rather well, Allison and I.

Let me tell you, it is crucial to taste all of the cheese to be a well-informed cheesemonger. In any case, I learned quite a bit about Dutch and German cheeses during the 4-hour shift, and met all kinds of characters. One of the bonuses of working at farmers' markets, I'm finding, is the camaraderie among vendors who cheerfully share their wares, and we feasted on not only cheese samples but also sweet plums from the Toigo Orchards' stand on our right, crusty french bread from the Panorama Bakery stand on our left, and a delectable cilantro and sweet corn pizza from the Red Zebra stand across the way. Yum. (If only I'd thought to put cilantro on pizza! Brilliant!) I'm just bummed that I forgot to buy a pint of Keswick's luscious chocolate pudding, especially with the 25% vendor discount. Doh. Ah, well, I'm still pretty well fed for the evening.

Oh my, it looks like it's time to get ready for bed. I have to get up at a reasonable hour to teach a cooking class to a group of teenagers out at the Lederer Youth Garden tomorrow and something tells me I'm going to need my rest....

Oh, and that picture? That's my fearless co-saleswoman, Allison. See, now don't you suddently have an irresistible desire to buy a jar of savory, marinated feta (with garlic, peppercorns, and bay leaf) for the low, low price of $6?

Out of the kitchen, into the market

Since my return from Nebraska, it seems like most of my waking hours have been spent gardening and perusing farmers' markets. Now that we're coming into the height of the growing season, it seems that there is a farmers' market (or two) nearly every day of the week. My favorite market stop of the week was on Thursday: my first ever visit to the Penn Quarter market, where I had been asked to photograph the first Brainfood student market demo -- something of a sneak preview of Brainfood's exciting second-year program starting next fall, which focuses on peer-led food education and outreach. (How cool is that??)



Ollie and I rolled up just as the students were arriving, so I had a chance to chitchat a bit with everyone before the enticing aroma of sauteing onions and garlic scapes drew the masses over to the information tent where the cooking demonstration was taking place. On offer: free samples of fried rice featuring fresh, seasonal ingredients chopped on site. I watched in awe as the high school students minced, stirred, tasted, and dished up one batch after another of the savory concoction. (And of course I tried a plate of it myself. I mean, Brainfood sessions always end with the sharing of food. I don't want to break protocol.)



There was not a trace of nervousness that I could detect among the group of friendly, confident youth. Not that I'm surprised: Amy and Carina are amazing teachers and offered the usual encouragement and measured guidance as students took the lead. They looked on proudly as their proteges spoke with folks of all ages about the ease of the recipe and its infinite adaptability, explaining the technique and pointing out different ingredients. These students, some of whom were pretty new to cooking less than a year ago, were cooking and talking with passers-by like old pros. I must say I was impressed. So were the market shoppers who tarried for a few minutes to sample and ask questions. One woman, coming home from her shift at the Department of Transportation, commented on how quick and easy and tasty the recipe was. "I mean, I can make this in about 10 minutes and my son will get a ton of healthy vegetables! I think he'll like this," she smiled as she finished up her sample. (Yep, and the eggs lend a bit of protein, too, I couldn't help but volunteer.) "I'm going to go pick up some eggs and carrots right now."



Yes, the fried rice was easy and tasty. It's pretty inexpensive and you can make a whole bunch of it at once (which, if you're on the kind of budget that I am on these days, is a huge bonus). Inspired, I made an enormous pot of it for a potluck barbecue with my ultimate frisbee teammates two days later. There were some rave reviews. Here's a slightly adapted version of the Brainfood recipe, which serves 12....

Farmers Market Brown Fried Rice

Heat 1 TBSP peanut oil (or olive oil) in a large pan, then add 8 eggs (beaten) and cook until eggs are set. Remove from pan and cut into strips.

Heat 5 TBSP peanut oil (or olive oil) in the pan, add 2 onions (peeled, small dice) and saute on medium heat until translucent (5 mins or so), then stir in:

- 3 garlic cloves, peeled and minced (or 1 thinly sliced garlic scape)
- 1-2 tsp fresh ginger, peeled and minced
- 1 cup mushrooms, sliced
- 1 cup asparagus, thinly sliced
- 3/4 cup green onions, thinly sliced
- 1 red bell pepper, seeded, small dice
- 1/2 cup carrots, small dice

Cook for 5 mins longer, then stir in:

- 3 tsp sea salt
- 6 cups brown rice, cooked (ideally cooked the day before and stored in fridge overnight)
- the cooked eggs
- 6 TBSP sesame oil or olive oil
- 14 TBSP shoyu (soy sauce) or Dr. Bragg's liquid aminos
- 6 TBSP mirin (rice vinegar)
- 1 tsp ground pepper (to taste)

Heat until warm, then serve and devour with friends.

Support DC's urban growers!

Hello, dear readers. I'm writing to you today with a call for help on behalf of my urban farming and community gardening friends here in the District. The Field to Fork Network is trying to raise some funds to get a collaborative market stand up and running this growing season. The goal: promoting healthy eating and community engagement at a number of markets around the city. (It's a project after my own heart, to be sure.) A number of groups we visited along the DC urban farms bike tour are involved, and a few that were not able to be included this time around. (As it was we had five stops!) Some of my favorites from around the city, many of whom have been working on food access and education for years, are coming together to make this project happen: the Neighborhood Farm Initiative, Beet Street, Washington Youth Garden, City Blossoms, Bread for the City.

Yes, it's a Kickstarter campaign... something with which I am intimately familiar. In this case, the funds will kickstart the project with funds to purchase needed supplies and materials, which will in turn allow the Field to Fork urban food educators and growers to operate small market booths. It also includes a modest stipend to fund a market coordinator to keep all of the necessary ducks in a row and get the systems in place for future -- hopefully expanded -- market seasons. They're looking to raise funds for the following, but if you (or someone you know) can donate any of these items, it'll help the group out immensely: tables, tents, scales, banners, chairs, calculators, camping stoves (probably my weathered beercan stove will not suffice, alas), cooking supplies. There's a bit set aside for educational materials and transportation as well, but $4,000 is a drop in the bucket when you consider all of the public good coming out of this. Actually, here's the video so you can see for yourself what they have in mind:



Now, people, they only have 30 hours left to raise the remaining $820 of their $4,000 goal to get things off the ground. Help an urban farmer out, eh?

Mardi Bus

Mark your calendars: two weeks from today (March 8, 2011) you will be attending one of the most fun events the District has ever seen.

Yes, officially called the "Bus + Beer Bash," this Mardi Gras make your way to Churchkey from 4-8pm for good beer and complimentary nibbles. Those who make a donation using the on-site laptops will earn a complimentary beer -- I've been slowly making my way through their menu myself, and highly recommend the lovely Canadian hibiscus wheat beer that I stumbled across last week -- and very possibly a hug from me.

It's the kick-off event for my online Kickstarter fundraising campaign to raise money for the mobile farmers' market. (If you can't make the event, but still want to contribute to this project and learn more, details can be found here.)

Because I need one of these:

to bring more of this:

Come celebrate with good food, beer, and people! You might just find yourself calling it Mardi Bus next year....