I must have that recipe!

Today marked the first Slow Food University event that I have organized: a book talk and potluck with local author and culinary adventurer, Nani Power. She's my kind of woman. In fact, we have quite a bit in common:

1. We share a persistent search for meaning, love, and community through food.

2. Food is officially an obsession.

3. We find cooking therapeutic.

4. We are both just itching to get ourselves to India, primarily for the food.

We probably share a lot of ideals that I don't even know about yet. I need to get myself a copy of her latest work, Ginger and Ganesh, which tells the story of her life-changing experience learning to prepare authentic Indian cuisine from women all around her native Northern Virginia -- a two-year adventure which began with a simple ad on Craigslist offering to supply ingredients + $10 per hour for in-home cooking lessons from Indian women. Yep, I do believe this may be next up on my reading list. And I'm pretty sure quite a few of the 40-some folks at the gathering were thinking the same thing as we stacked chairs and bid our adieus at the end of the event.

So, yes, in spite of the past 48 hours of hand-wringing... and fear that nobody would show up... or that a bunch of people would arrive but wouldn't have brought any food... or that the guard would be home sick and hadn't unlocked the building... or... I swear I'm not a worrier (that's dad's specialty)... it was a resounding success. It's not just my own impression, either, I swear. Our esteemed speaker asked if I might be able to gather some of the recipes for the food offered by our humble Slow Food DC community this evening. A number of attendees seconded the request.

As I await the recipe for the divine coconut burfi made by my friend (and former teaching colleague) Carol, I offer my own Indian-inspired concoction. No, not the curried chickpeas with sweet potatoes and kale. (What can I say, I was worried people wouldn't bring enough food, so I made a few dishes.) I'm talking about the

Dark Chocolate Torte with Cardamom and Ginger Whipped Cream
...which is not so much authentic Indian as inspired by Indian spices...

Preheat oven to 350°F.

Brush an 8 or 9-inch cake pan with butter and dust with flour.

Melt in a small saucepan over low heat, stirring frequently:

• 7 oz dark chocolate, cut into pieces
• 1 1/2 sticks (12 TBSP) butter, cut into pieces

Remove from heat and whisk in:

• 1/4 cup cocoa powder
• seeds from 6-8 crushed cardamom pods
• a dash of ground allspice

Let cool for about 10 minutes.

In a separate bowl, beat together until thick (6 minutes or so) with an electric mixer:

• 5 large farm fresh eggs, at room temperature
• 1/4 cup raw/brown sugar

Gently fold chocolate mixture into the egg mixture until just mixed (uniform color). Pour batter into prepared pan and bake 40-45 minutes.

Cool in pan, run a knife around the edge of the pan to loosen if needed, and then turn out on a wire rack or plate to slice.

Serve with fresh whipped cream beaten with:

• a few spoonfuls of powdered sugar
• a dash of ground/powdered ginger

Yeah, pretty delicious. Let me know if you try it at home!

Pastapalooza

From my dear friend Alessandra in Des Moines who has to date made the best gnocchi with morels of my young life, to the smoking hot Italian gentleman that courted me for a couple of months here in the District who concocted the best Puglian-style pesto orecchiette with green beans and potatoes that I still daydream about these four years later (the pasta, that is), I can't get over how ridiculously delicious the pasta is that comes from talented Italian hands. Alas, I have no native Italian blood in these veins, which may explain why my ravioli always come out a little too tough. But boy can I appreciate a well-made noodle. Luckily, I will be heading to Tuscany this summer for a couple of weeks for my friend Jen's wedding, so I'll get to eat lots of good pasta while I raise yet another glass of Montepulciano to the health of the newlyweds. But there's a good chance I may be eating more of the good stuff before then, even....

Mille grazie to my friend and colleague, Robin, who clued me in to the best handmade pasta I have had in some time, which she'd brought along as an appetizer for a dinner party last night: Copper Pot's delicate braised oxtail tortellini and maple-roasted pumpkin ravioli that I drizzled with thyme-infused butter and a pinch of salt... ohhhh, a girl could get used to this. So after the massaged kale salad, and the curried butternut squash soup, and the goat stew and the apple pie, we determined that there was too much food, and guess who got sent home with the remaining half dozen packages of fresh pasta made from scratch. Go on, guess. (Between those and the giant bag of compost I lashed on with bungee cords, Ollie and I must've been quite a sight to behold biking home.)

It's going to be a veritable Pastapalooza* here today at the apartment, I thought this morning as I warmed up a little bowl of braised rabbit cappellacci for breakfast. Delicious. (Sorry, Thumper.) Before heading off to teach this afternoon, my friend Jeff joined me for an extravagant lunch -- I mean, this stuff is TOO GOOD not to share -- that was a mix of duck confit ravioli and more of the divine pumpkin ravioli, this time served with some butter and dried basil and a few grinds of black pepper. With a splash of soup and a small salad, I was sated well into midafternoon. (Hmmm? What's that? Why, yes, that was lunch. I'm a food educator, sometimes my midday meals get a little bit elaborate.)

My god, who knew food could be this light and flavorful but still satisfying after 8 or 10 pieces? And though I suspect the actual making of the pasta and its filling was rather labor intensive, the cooking of it was a snap. Getting the water to a boil was the longest step. Maybe I can suggest a new slogan for the small, local company: "Slow Food in 3 minutes or less."** Eh? Eh? (Come on, you can't even make a bowl of Ramen noodles that quickly and let me tell you, this stuff is about 3 universes beyond Ramen.)

I had a chance to meet Stefano (again, thanks to Robin) and chat with the genius behind Copper Pot about his inventive preserves, about recommended sauce and pasta pairings, and about how under-appreciated oxtail is in American cuisine. (Well, it's true.) Within about two minutes, I knew I'd met a kindred spirit. That was even before I learned that he sourced his ingredients quite literally from other farm stands at the market. Yeah, I think that wasn't until about 10 minutes into the conversation. "Ah, yes, the cheese, she is from Keswick," Stefano smiled, "and the duck, he comes from the farmer next to me at the 14th Street market last Saturday." What was that he said about sweet potato gnocchi? "Ah, I make pasta different each week. It depends on what there is is season for me to work with." Good lord, I wonder as I gaze at the two remaining packages on the top shelf of my fridge, does this man need an assistant? I must have more of that pasta....

----

*Thanks to John, who was not only the inspiration (and the gracious host) for last night's dinner party, but who also coined the title of this blogpost.

**Speaking of Slow Food, if you're around DC this weekend, you should come to an event that I'm organizing: a free talk with Indian cookbook author Nani Power, followed by a potluck. There are still spaces left, so RSVP today. I suspect there won't be much in the way of fresh pasta at this gathering, but since it's a Slow Food DC event, you can bet folks will be bringing their culinary A-game to the potluck. Should you need recipe ideas, try one of these. Or flip through a copy of my all-time favorite curry reference.

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.

Cinderella Pumpkin Bread

I've been doing quite a bit of work with my friend Jeff the carpenter lately. No matter whether we're building a coldframe, inoculating mushroom logs, fixing that persnickety light in my bathroom, or constructing raised garden beds, our conversations invariably turn to food. (Don't look so surprised....) More often than not I am the one sharing new recipes, which my friend promptly scribbles into his pocket notebook. But a few weeks ago Jeff shared one of his favorite childhood recipes with me: pumpkin bread. And you know I love all things pumpkin. I was delighted. The original iteration had quite a lot of sugar (my teeth hurt reading it), but there was a great base recipe for me to tinker with, and Jeff was very encouraging of my effort to make it a little healthier. After picking up a beautiful, 8-pound Cinderella Pumpkin at the farmers' market a few days ago, I made a couple of loaves. With lots of pumpkin remaining, I made a couple more loaves last night, which ended up in my picnic basket along with a chickpea-chard-couscous salad and a whole mess of apples for today's Food Day Group Picnic downtown.

Moist and delicious, this one was inspired by the original recipe by Margaret Wilkes, handed down by her son to me....

RECIPE: Mom’s Pumpkin Bread Redux
(makes 2 loaves)

Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter and flour 2 loaf pans.

Whisk in large bowl to blend:
• 1 cup all purpose flour
• 1 ½ cups whole wheat flour
• ½ cup brown sugar
• 2 TBSP ground flaxseed (you can grind whole flaxseed in a coffee grinder or use a mortar and pestle)
• 1 tsp salt
• 2 tsp baking soda
• 1 tsp ground cinnamon
• 1 tsp nutmeg
• ½ tsp ground cloves
• ½ tsp ground allspice

Add in:
• 1 cup apple sauce
• ½ cup olive oil
• 2/3 cup water
• 4 eggs
• 1-inch piece of fresh ginger, peeled and minced
• 1-2 TBSP maple syrup
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 2 cups roasted pumpkin (To roast pumpkin: Cut a fresh pumpkin in half, scoop out the seeds, roast at 400°F for an hour or so until soft enough to scoop out and mash.)

Stir just until incorporated. (Do not overmix.) Pour half of batter into each of the two prepared baking pans. Bake for about 1 hour, until a toothpick poked into the center comes out clean. Run a butter knife around the perimeter of the loaf pan to loosen, then cool loaves on a wire rack.

For a fancy, more dessert-y experience, toast slices of pumpkin bread in the oven, then drizzle on a glaze made by blending the following:
• 8 oz package of cream cheese
• 1 tsp lemon juice
• 1/4 - 1/2 cup powdered sugar
• sometimes I add a splash of cream or a few TBSP butter

No matter how you slice it, this pumpkin bread is downright delicious. Especially alongside a good cup of coffee or tea during a blustery afternoon. Without the frosting, it's pretty darn healthy. (But c'mon, a little frosting isn't going to hurt anyone.) Now go out and get yourself a pumpkin and get baking!

The Adventures of Peapod Ibti

While I was out running errands earlier today, something suddenly reminded me that I'd forgotten to post something on the blog about DC Farm to School week...hmmm....



And then, lo not 10 minutes later, a message popped up in my inbox with a photo attachment from supermom Laura over at Watkins Elementary:



Yep, that's me dressed as a giant peapod. Why would I agree to such silliness, you ask? I couldn't help myself: I love Farm to School Week. And admittedly I rather enjoy opportunities to dress up. I'll agree that it was not the most flattering of costumes, but it was apparently very effective: I was told there was a huge line for the cafeteria salad bar the following day as a direct result of my veg promotional efforts. To be honest, I think it was the bright, crunchy veggies and delectable champagne vinaigrette that the friendly folks from SweetGreen brought along, but, hey, if a smiling stranger dressed as a legume and handing out stickers helps encourage consumption of seasonal produce, I'm happy for whatever part I played.

I will say that I was impressed that nearly every kid that scampered up to the salad table we'd set up in Watkins' brand new beautiful playground knew what I was. (You may not think that's a big deal, but can I tell you how many kids in this country can't identify a tomato not in ketchup form?) Only one little boy asked if I was a cucumber... his classmate quickly corrected him. Props to the school's FoodPrints program for getting kids excited not only about identifying lots of veggies, but also about preparing and eating them. Yes, it didn't take long for a few of the older girls to ask to help mixing ingredients together in large bowls and serving the fresh salad samples (using plastic gloves) to their peers. I couldn't stop grinning the whole ride home. (No, not in costume.)

Don't worry, I don't plan on breaking the peapod getup out again any time soon. I've got my hands full making a cape for tomorrow's Food Day group picnic....

Kale Carbonara

Yes, you read that correctly: kale carbonara. Don't wrinkle your nose until you've tried it. I made it a few nights ago and I'll tell you, it was pretty tasty. Huh. I can see you're going to need more convincing....

Now, if you've been following this blog for any length of time, or spoken with me in person for more than, say, 20 minutes, you know that I am something of an improvisational cook. Well. I'd been away for the weekend at my friend Meredyth's wedding in West Virginia and thus hadn't stocked up on produce during the usual weekend farmers' market trolling. My cupboard was relatively bare, but I was HUNGRY. As I rifled through my freezer in search of edamame for a completely unrelated dish I started concocting, I stumbled across a few strips of Niman Ranch bacon I'd squirreled away. In the fridge, I discovered a few eggs... a bit of cream... a lemon.... Some fresh basil and parsley were still holding onto dear life out in the backyard garden patch.... I could only assume that the universe was telling me that I was destined for more carbonara that night. (After making my way home from my weekly volunteer shift at Brainfood an hour before, I had carbonara sauce on the brain. We'd made a quick chicken carbonara as our snack at the end of class, but I was ravenous. I blame this sudden cold front.) Yes. Carbonara would do nicely. But I had no chicken. I did have some kale that needed to be used up.

Necessity is the mother of invention, right? And I am pleased to report that this invention was downright delicious.

After much prodding by my friend Jeff, whose mouth watered so much during my relation of this latest cooking experiment earlier today that I felt bad for eating half the pot for dinner and the other half the following morning for a hearty breakfast without sharing a bite of it, I give you...

Kale Carbonara

Chop up 3-4 strips of thick-cut, pastured bacon into 1/2-inch pieces and fry in a small saucepan until almost crispy. Remove bacon to a small bowl and let cool while you proceed.

In a medium pot, boil 1/2 lb pasta. (I used fusilli, but shells or fettucini would work just as well. Actually, shoot, use whatever you have handy. I think classic carbonara is made with spaghetti anyway.)

In a medium bowl, whisk together:
-3 or 4 yolks from pastured eggs (save whites for another dish)
-the zest of 1 lemon
-1/4 to 1/3 cup cream
-a handful of freshly grated parmesan
-2 or 3 garlic cloves, minced
-a few spoonfuls of freshly chopped basil
-a few spoonfuls of freshly chopped parsley
-5 or 6 kale leaves, washed, de-stemmed, and chopped into bite-sized pieces
-salt and pepper to taste

Return drained pasta to pot, turn burner to low, add in bacon pieces and egg mixture, stirring constantly until pasta is completely coated and everything is heated through. Scarf, maybe with a nice glass of white wine.

Yeah, it's not low calorie or anything, but if you use good ingredients it's not really bad for you. And it is tasty and relatively inexpensive and makes a fair bit -- enough for 2 or 3 people, anyway. Try to share, eh?

A semi-spontaneous group picnic: Oct 24

So October is officially Food Month, featuring:

Oct 1-16: the Right 2 Know March (to advocate for the labeling of GMO foods)
Oct 3-7: DC Farm to School Week (to encourage schoolkids to eat more healthfully)
Oct 8: dad's birthday dinner
Oct 9-10: prime time for garlic planting (can go until Nov 1, according to Farmer Mo)
Oct 16: World Food Day (focusing this year on mitigating the global food pricing pendulum)
Oct 24: CSPI's more domestically oriented Food Day
Oct 31: when I invariably find myself wearing some kind of food-themed Halloween getup....

Let's focus here on Oct 24 -- Food Day -- and its infinite potential for ways to celebrate healthy, sustainable, and fair food. There are tons of ways you can participate, no matter where in the country you happen to be on that Monday in late October: cook dinner with friends, have lunch with a colleague and maybe even share a little something you made yourself, make an effort to eat something local/seasonal that day, patronize a restaurant known for its conscientious procurement and labor practices....

Should you find yourself in DC, however, I invite you to join me and Ollie downtown for a semi-spontaneous picnic lunch! Yes, take a break from work for a REAL lunch break, celebrating good food and conversation in the out of doors. (Or indoors -- I have some thoughts on a rain location.) Bring your friends/colleagues, a picnic, and a blanket. Those who bring a dish with at least one local/seasonal ingredient get a big hug, and the first 75 or so will get... a surprise Food Day memento. (Ooooh, the anticipation!)

Relax, it's not a rally. It's not a protest. It might be considered a flash mob, but one that the cops have nothing to worry about. It's a picnic... with a few hundred of my closest friends and DC-area food lovers to celebrate Food Day. The location will be announced the morning of the 24th, but I can tell you that it will be metro accessible.