Challahlujah!

Maybe it's the Jewish men I've dated these past few years. Maybe it's the fact that roughly half of my friends are Jewish. But there's just something about challah.

Today, with the help of a recipe from Wild Fermentation, I made my first loaf. (I splurged on a used copy a few weeks ago in order to brush up on my fermentation knowledge before teaching another workshop on making kim chi. To be honest I'm kind of enamored with Sandor Katz's loving tribute to all things fermented.) I'll bet you didn't even know you could make a sourdough challah. I sure didn't.

Note: I am a night owl by nature, but it is admittedly a little late to be baking. Working with wild-caught (rather than packaged) yeast does seem to add an hour or more onto most recipes, but I did start it at 9 this morning. There were a few additional challenges along the way. My real near-meltdown came during the heating of oil, sugar, salt, and eggs until they formed "a creamy, custard-like texture." The process was less clear or speedy than one might think. I mean, seriously, does this look like it's going to turn "custard-like" any time soon? It's been half an hour in a makeshift double boiler on my stove!



But finally, through the grace of Yahweh, it thickened. Then hubris set in -- directions, shmirections, I've been baking sourdoughs for nearly a year now -- I decided to go against the advice of the cookbook and combine ingredients directly on the counter (instead of in a bowl), old school Italian style, so this:



quickly became this:



(Doh!) But not irresolvable. See? Nothing ten solid minutes of intense kneading can't fix:



Three hours of rising, a break for yoga class, a little braiding, a second rising, and here it is going into the oven:











Just moments before midnight, I'm done.



Here it is -- beautiful and golden and perfuming my apartment with the most divine scent. I'll sleep well tonight. Tomorrow morning: egg sandwiches!

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....)

Sniper for hire?

I've been garden-sitting for my friend Mike for the past week and a half and for the most part things have been going well. With the much-needed bouts of rain, the plants are looking lush and the harvest has been pretty impressive. The cucumbers and melons are going bonkers, corn and chard and fennel have been putting on a good show. But most of all, the tomatoes are looking just lovely. And Squeazle apparently thinks so, too....

Honestly, what kind of self-respecting squirrel would only *partially* eat a beautiful, ripe red tomato like this?? Jerk. I harvested a number of just-barely-orange ones a few days ago -- preventive measures after three days in a row of half-eaten evidence around the garden.

I wonder if one or two of the snipers that guard the White House garden might want to moonlight at Mike's place a few nights a week. I couldn't pay much, but I'd feed them well: tomato and fennel bruschetta, cucumber corn salad, chard and feta quiche.... (Oh, come on, there *must* be snipers posted around the perimeter of Ms. Obama's garden else there'd be no produce for the photo ops.)

These city rodents are ruthless, I tell you. Ruthless!

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

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.

A night out

I don't get out as much as I used to, though by many people's standards, I still am out and about more than most. (Except, perhaps, my friend Ronn, who makes normal social butterflies look like homebody moths.) Okay, so I like exploring DC. It's not all happy hours and late nights of salsa dancing. This past Tuesday I participated in my first National Night Out -- an annual event whereby local police departments all around the country organize family-friendly events (usually featuring a band, some informational booths, food, a moonbounce, and if you're lucky, as I was, some poor fellow dressed up as McGruff the Crime Dog). In my case, I was helping out at the GrowingSOUL/Crossroads Market tent at the Takoma Park Night Out. My task: cooking demos. Oh, goodie....

While the live band got cranking, folks of all ages and colors wandered by to see what I was up to. Some timidly asked if they could try making a small jar of kale/collard kim chi, others sauntered up and reached right into the big bowl of tomato corn salad I was offering (made with some of the gorgeous tomatoes that Crossroads had for sale). Especially fun were the kids who walked past a few times and then couldn't resist coming over and trying their hand at mashing up the ginger, garlic, hot peppers, and leafy greens with salt to make small jars of kim chi to take home. Some of them really got into it. So did my compatriots from GrowingSOUL and Crossroads. We went through a good 6 or 8 bunches of greens and many, many old spaghetti jars.



Somewhere along the line, a random guy (I'm pretty sure he was sober) wandered up and without asking reached into the display kim chi jar and ladled a few forkfuls onto his hotdog. I was speechless, as much from the lack of asking "Do you mind if I take some of this?" as the idea of adding this totally organic, fermented food to what is widely regarded by most as nitrate-laced, ground up pig lips. Then, I'm not going to lie, Jessica and I ran to get our own hotdogs and try out the kim chi on top.



Yep, like I said, I'm no purist.

I would say that the evening went really well. Lots of folks went home with new recipes and fresh, local produce (made even more affordable by Crossroads' Fresh Checks) and fermented goodies. Not a bad night out.

And, okay, for those who complain that there are no photos of me on this blog -- ahem, mom -- here's one for you:



Sheesh.

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.