Eat Local Newbies Enter the Race!

The TaterTot Lovers have made it through their first week of a mostly local diet, and so far so good! Breakfasts have been hard for us. I get up REALLY early most days, so fast and convenient is my norm. My wife gets up a couple hours later but doesn’t generally leave herself a lot of time for breakfast. Even if I did have time my options are limited because I don’t eat eggs. My breakfasts have been mostly Nature’s Hand Granola.
My lunches are comprised of leftovers from dinner the night before or sun-butter sandwiches. Ho Hum but okay.
For dinners we’ve gotten quite lucky. I make a wicked Cauliflower Bacon Salad. Since we didn’t have local cauliflower last week I doubled the broccoli, changed out parsnips for carrots, and used that thick Farm on Wheels Bacon. It wasn’t the same, but we ate it all.
We’ve had a lot of salads, courtesy of the fresh greens at the farmers market. Kohlrabi sliced thin is an excellent addition to a salad. The Salad Girl dressings are quite nice too, but my wife is skeptical of flavors like “blueberry maple” and “pomegranate pear”.
I prepared a bunch of local chicken and shredded it. We’ve used it on the salads, but one night I grabbed sautéed a couple handfuls with green garlic and spring onions, and then added a half cup of Salsa Lisa. Once it all cooked down a little it made for great tacos.
Our big success was Pizza on the Grill. We might just have Pizza every night of this challenge. We used Swany White Flour and Ames Farm Honey in the dough and I made enough for 4 pizzas. In the humid heat the dough doubled in 20 minutes.





We started the coals and when they were white we moved them to one side of the grill. Inside we rolled out the flour in cornmeal. We did it by hand and our pizza came out rectangular. We oiled it up (If local olive oil was available we would have used it) and put it on the side of the grill opposite the coals. We put the lid on for 4 minutes, rotated the crust 180 degrees, and cooked it for another 3 minutes. We then took it inside and flipped it over so the grilled side was up.


We added more oil, yellow hydroponic tomatoes, fresh basil, green garlic, and local mozzarella cheese. It only needed 4 or 5 minutes longer on the grill to become golden and delicious.

Hardcore local

Read Nano's previous post to find out where I'm coming from with this one. After he brought up the idea of elitist local eating, I just had to share what I've been thinking about lately. I think it's connected...or maybe just a scary glimpse into my psyche.

I've had to take a lesson from my yoga teacher and try to let go of my attachment to this Eat Local Challenge. It's easy to get down on myself when I feast on pistachios, boxed crackers, and Washington cherries while at a music festival (yesterday), but the point of all this isn't to feel guilty- It's to eat amazing food and think about where it comes from. It's to make changes in your life where you can and accept where you can't (can you tell my whole family goes to AA?).

I've found myself watching someone eating an avocado and thinking, "Jeez, doesn't that person know how far that traveled?", like I wouldn't be slathering it over my toast if I weren't doing this challenge. I tend to do this when I'm trying to make a change in my life- I get all snobby about it in my head. I think it's a protective mechanism of sorts, like a way to cheer myself on. "You wouldn't eat an avocado or drink those imported sodas, either, Liz. You would have grown your own raspberries and drunk filtered tap water," the voice in my head says. This method doesn't work so hot, though. Instead, I end up too proud when I eat local and too guilty when I don't. And years of therapy have taught me nothing if not to avoid attaching your self-worth to what you eat.

So I'm trying to let loose a little (this doesn't come naturally to me) and be more forgiving. So what if I was eating out of a cooler yesterday and ate cherries from far away? I did drink Pepin Heights sparkling apple cider, made in Lake City, MN. And I brought along some Holy Land hummus and Whole Grain Milling Co. chips, too. Not 100% local, but not too shabby for a quickly thrown-together picnic.

And today's another day of eating and another chance to work as much local food as possible. It might be 50% or it might be 90%, but I think the point of this challenge is that we're all trying. Our intention is in the right place and we're gaining insight into how we eat, our expectations about food availability, and how challenging it can be to change our habits. So whether it's a fancy-schmancy gourmet meal or a bag of chips, we're doing awesome.

Having everyone's different experiences on this blog is super important and makes it so much more interesting. So don't forget to post, everyone.

E__ly- this means you! We want to see those onions!

Lofty-Minded Local (I Just Can't Help It).

As I was leaving work today, I got into a local-blog conversation with fellow Challenge-taker e__ly, who was excitedly telling me about pulling & eating her first onions from her garden. Midway through her description, however, she stopped & said something to the effect of, "...but that's probably not very interesting to someone as hardcore as you..." I protested, & we laughed it off, but this exchange is still bothering me somewhat. Are people getting the wrong impression, here? Am I coming off as some sort of haughty purist who doesn't have time to listen to apparently pedestrian stories of the simple joys of the garden? True, I'm consistently eating above 80%, without too much bother, & I'm loving it quite vocally. But isn't it also true that I wish I'd thought ahead (let alone really desired) to plant my own garden? Isn't it possible that I sometimes regret that my adventures in eating locally are almost entirely of the consumer, rather than producer, variety?

So, in order to reestablish my street cred as a simple, salt-of-the-earth kinda guy, I will now show you a bunch of pretty pictures of totally awesome high-end gourmet meals that I've made recently, like it was no big thing:

Local braised pastured pork country rib with turnip-potato mash,
wilted turnip greens, & tomato veloute

Making & eating this meal was almost enough to make me cry. The flavors were so pure & well-matched that I had to reassure myself that I'd actually made it. It's entirely possible that in my 10-odd years of restaurant work, I rarely came close to creating a plate like this, even with entire walk-ins full of ingredients to play with. Like any pioneer of Electro or Hip Hop music could tell you, sometimes the magic is in the minimalism.

I wasn't sure at first how to work out the percentages on this one, since for the stock I had to use imported celery & carrot (CA), plus Beeler's smoked ham shanks (IA), which fell close to the limit of my personal distance guidelines. But with the revelation that Iowa falls within the Market's definition, combined with the fact that only a fraction of the plated meal actually uses said stock, I'm going to put it at a solid 75%. See, guys? I'm no stick-in-the-mud! Best of all, the leftover stock was very useful in making some great soup, which I'll post on soon.

Local grass-fed beef with mushroom compound butter,
3 cheese potato gratin, & micro greens

Yep, just some down-home steak & potatoes. I didn't grow up eating my steak on the rarer side of medium rare... Well, actually I didn't grow up eating steak at all (well-meaning mothers of the world, take heed). But because I was using the cheapest (& most sensibly small) cut that Thousand Hills offers (Round Tip), it was necessary. Grass-fed beef is so much leaner than conventional that eating it closer to raw than most people deem normal is no big deal. It doesn't have that same bloody, rust-tinged taste that we associate with rare beef, & it makes for a pleasantly tender steak. Due to the fact that after the picture was taken, I chose to drizzle some non-local Cardini's Italian dressing on the greens, I will score this one as 90% local.

Local pan-seared pastured pork loin chop with maple-thyme glaze,
parsnip-potato mash, & red kale with caramelized cippolini onion

I hesitate to claim that this dish was completely incredible, as I was slightly unimpressed with the way the kale behaved while I was preparing it. Apparently, the red-veined variety of kale does not turn vibrantly green & crimson when blanched. At least, not when I blanched it. It still tasted pretty wicked, though. I'm not sure how I'm going to deploy the leftovers from my parsnip mash, but I'm leaning towards making some kind of savory crepe, as I've hypothesized in the past. By the way, if we don't count the vinegar, sea salt & pepper, this one was 100% local.

Removing my tongue from my cheek, & granting that my nose may still appear to be high in the air, I do hope that people understand that I don't want to come off as having any better of a grasp on this Challenge thing than anyone else. Like all of us (when I'm not gleefully showing off, that is), I'm highly likely to be snacking on local chips & homemade salsa in order to put off doing the dishes, or trying futilely to make an 80% local bowl of cereal magically appear through a careful combination of Rice Chex & locally-made granola, in order to avoid getting greasy before work. & by all means, friends, please tell me about your garden escapades; I may not show it, but inside I'm wildly jealous.

Well, not of the weeding, anyway.


-nano out.

Mulberry Madness!

Every summer our family turns purple. The color stains our hands, clothing, hair, teeth, and the stepping stones in our berry patch. The color remains in the cracks in our cuticles for days and never really comes out of our clothing, but we've come to accept the purple spots as the one drawback to having a very productive mulberry tree.

Before moving to this house, none of us had eaten mulberries before. All we saw was a little tree shading the overgrown area we planned to turn into a berry patch. After clearing the land, mulching, and planting blackberries, strawberries, and raspberries, we left the little tree for another project. We planned to take it down.

Imagine our surprise when that little tree seemed to sprout fat, juicy berries overnight! From that day on, we've been mulberry harvesters, mulberry jam-makers, mulberry-juice-drinkers, and mulberry-pie-bakers. It's true that the little pseudo-berries don't have a ton of flavor on their own. They do, however, have plenty of sweetness and juiciness.

They pair well with tart rhubarb in a pie and are so colorful when juiced & paired with maple syrup to sweeten lemonade. Lately, I've been baking with mulberries and oats for hardy treats. This week it was Sunny Mulberry Oat muffins and Mulberry Oat bars.

Mulberry Oat Bars

*Modified from Colleen Patrick-Goudreau's Raspberry Oatmeal Bars from The Joy of Vegan Baking to be wheat free, use of lots of mulberries, and not need pre-made jam.

3 cups mulberries, freshly picked
1/4 cup maple syrup
1/4 cup water
2 Tbsp. cornstarch
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 cup oat flour
1 cup rolled oats
1 tsp. xanthan gum
1/4 tsp. baking soda
1/8 tsp. salt
1/3 cup Earth Balance or butter

Wash the mulberries. There's no need to remove the stems. In a small saucepan, heat the mulberries and maple syrup until simmering (the juice will be released from the mulberries). Using a potato masher or fork, mash the berries until there are no whole berries remaining, but the mixture is still chunky. In a separate bowl, mix the water and cornstarch to form a slurry. Stir the cornstarch slurry into the mulberries and stir to combine. Turn heat to low and stir frequently for about 5-10 minutes, or until thickened to a jam-like consistency. Remove from heat.

Preheat oven to 350F. Grease a 8"X8" square glass baking dish. In a mixing bowl, combine sugar, flour, oats, xanthan gum, baking soda, and salt. Add the Earth Balance or butter and rub the mixture together until it forms a crumbly consistency. Press 2/3 of the mixture into the bottom of the baking dish. Spread the mulberry jam over the oat crust. Top with remaining oat crumbles and bake for 30-35 minutes. The bars will cut best if you allow them to fully cool first.
*Note: If you don't have oat flour, you could also use rice flour. Or you could use a food processor to whiz rolled oats into oat flour. Or you could use wheat flour instead of oat flour, and omit the xanthan gum. I'd like to try it with cornmeal!

By the way, I still sing the little nursery rhyme:

All around the mulberry bush
The monkey chased the weasel.
The monkey thought 'twas all in fun.
Pop! goes the weasel.

in my head when I pick mulberries.

I'll have the "tuna" melt

These are the kind of meals that are meant to be eaten outside in the shade on a beautiful sunny day. I just don't think they'd be the same indoors.

First up is a Chickpea Melt. You can make this exactly as you would a tuna melt, only soak, cook, chill, and mash some chickpeas to use instead of tuna. The chickpeas are locally grown, you see, and tuna is not. So even if you're not usually a veg-type person, this is a great substitute. This chickpea salad has chopped pickles (sweet & spicy freezer pickles I made with last year's harvest), grated baby onions, and fresh dill. Non-local ingredients include lemon juice, kelp powder (for iodine and that "fishy" taste), and Veganaise. If you're down with eggs, though, you should make Nano's mayo.

I used 3rd Street Bakery bread, Living Waters hydroponic tomatoes, and non-local Vegan Gourmet cheese in the assembly of these open-faced sandwiches. The best part is that I could broil these in my toaster oven, so the house stayed nice and cool!


The house did not stay nice and cool when I made these, but it was SO worth it.

These are Sunflower Sage rolls, recipe taken and modified from the Moosewood New Classics recipe for Three Seed Whole Wheat Rolls. I chopped 7 or 8 sage leaves from the herb garden into these babies and the flavor really came through. The sunflower seeds give them a great crunch. But really nothing beats the chewy whole wheat insides.

I paired my lunch roll (as opposed to my after-lunch roll and before dinner roll...) with a homegrown salad. I just got my first cucumber and little broccoli head from the garden, so I paired them with my lettuce that is quickly growing bitter, more hydroponic tomatoes, and leftover Chickpea Salad. And I topped it with ranch dressing, of course.

Back on the Brunch Shift, Or, A Pancake With Promise.

Back when I was a full-time professional kitchen monkey, I worked many a brunch shift. Unless one is being hired in at the top of the kitchen hierarchy, it's common for an employer to try a new employee out by giving them brunch duty. It's a good way to size the new hire up, check out their speed & precision, & determine their dependability. After all, if the new guy can consistently make it into work early Sunday morning, ready to go, after being out all Saturday night partying...

Somehow, I was able to do this alarmingly well (probably because I just kept partying, with maybe a brief nap, right up until it was time to get to work), & I often found myself in danger of being stuck making gussied-up home-fries & omelets indefinitely.

That lifestyle is now well behind me, but I still find myself cooking & eating breakfast at all times of the day. As I've mentioned in a previous post, brunch-type dishes are great ways to use up leftovers from other local-eating endeavors. Part of this stems from the brunch concept itself; the ability to use ingredients in a breakfast dish that usually would be used for meals later in the day, but another reason is that it allows the cook a more leisurely pace to work at & prepare more time-consuming components.

Take this, for example:

Local chorizo & potato omelet, with Widmer one-year cheddar, Miereke's gouda, & two-tone salsa.

I don't know about you, but I would never be able to make time for this sort of meal, while simultaneously trying to get out the door to work. It's straight-up day off fare, my friends.

Something considerably quicker is local buckwheat pancakes, provided that the batter is made the night before (which is, in fact, recommended by the pancake experts). The beauty of these pancakes is that they can serve in their normal capacity as a solid, energy-packed breakfast food, but by thinning the batter they can be made as crepes. This allows them to accommodate any number of garnishes & additions & be served 24 hours a day.

Local buckwheat-mulberry pancakes, with maple syrup.

I unfortunately used up all my batter gorging myself on regular pancakes, so I'll have to wait for my next batch to play around with crepe combinations. I kind of forgot to get buttermilk, too, so these pancakes were a little less fluffy than they could have been, but I was already expecting a heartier version based on memories of childhood buckwheat 'cakes. Another neat thing about this general recipe is that it can be adjusted to be gluten-free, for those with an adverse reaction.

Okay, it's early in the afternoon on a Sunday, & I'm starving. Time to get to work...


-nano out.

A tip o' the nano-hat to Nora & her next-door neighbor (who, knowingly or unknowingly, provided the delicious mulberries).

Just A Little Sumpthin' for the Veg-heads...

Often, when I'm arguing with anonymous people on internet forums about the concept of sustainable, non-industrial meat production, I like to key in on the idea that Americans do indeed eat too much meat. It's true, we are a meat-happy country. People from other cultures are often appalled by how much (& how often) meat is consumed in a typical American's day. As part of my defense of the sort of small, humane producers I do business with, I'll often stress that a key part of reforming (or even eventually eliminating) the undeniably awful large-scale meat industry is for people to eat less meat in general. We need to reduce meat from the center of nearly every meal, I'll say. It needs to be used more often as a flavoring agent or condiment, & less often as the main attraction, I'll stress, aping Pollan. If we all make an effort to do this, I'll opine, then a patchwork of smaller, more ecologically & humanely operated farms can supply a greater portion of our nation's meat fix.

In my mind, this is the best way (outside of the unlikely event of mass Vegan conversion) to solve the obscenity that we call industrial meat.

The only problem with my argument is that I do a fairly crappy job of actually practicing it.

I eat meat at least once a day, although perhaps not in the same proportions as many Americans do. & I more often than not make my meat the focus of the meal, as anyone can observe just from reading my posts on this blog. & if there's anything in this world that consistently gets me heated... it's hypocrisy.

The other night, my unwillingness to truly practice what I preach was really getting to me, so I whipped up a relatively rare vegetarian dinner with some leftovers;

Local zucchini & yellow squash cakes, served with a tomato, thyme & white mushroom ragout.

Honestly, this recipe needs some tweaking. I was pressed for time & short on ingredients, so the cakes didn't turn out quite as I imagined them. Despite expressing what I thought was the bulk of the water in the shredded vegetables, the cakes were still pretty wet when they hit the skillet & they needed more breadcrumbs than I was able to toast up, so they didn't cook up as pleasantly browned & firm as I'd hoped. The ragout was awesome though. Through the magic of food science, it almost had the taste of the wine I would have added, had I been in the habit of keeping wine in the house. & disregarding my disappointment with the texture of the cakes, all the flavors worked together very nicely. The dish wasn't suitable for Vegans (as it contained eggs, milk & a little butter), but it was a great change of pace for me. Not to mention that it was virtually 100% local.

I doubt I'll change my omnivorous ways as a result of taking the Challenge, but I hope to do more of this meat-free cooking in the months to come. The meat case I preside over at work is a great place to find local foods & it will continue to provide me with many meals & ideas for meals. That's not even a question for me. But if I can alter the ratio of meat-based meals in favor of meat-accented or meat-free meals, I'll be just fine with that.


-nano out.