Enjoy the digital edition for Issue 10 | Fall 2016.
This hummus is great as a dip for vegetables or pita chips or spread onto a sandwich. It will thicken after a few days in the fridge, so feel free to stir a little water (or more pickle juice) into it, to loosen it up before serving.
Sauerkraut for dessert? This cake can be found in community cookbooks from areas with large German populations. As crazy as it sounds, the kraut adds a sweet-sour tang and a lot of moisture to this cake. Whether you disclose the identity of secret ingredient is up to you. If you don’t feel up to making a layer cake, bake the cake in a 9- by 3-inch baking pan instead. The cake is best the day it is made; the frosting will start to “wilt” after a day, but will still taste delicious!
Now that fall is here, I’ll likely be turning to this tasty version featuring butternut squash. It might seem like an unlikely pairing, but the squash, along with cinnamon and nutmeg, adds subtle sweetness and the type of warm, homey flavor I find myself craving once the weather starts to cool.
We use frozen puff pastry in this recipe, but feel free to substitute your favorite pie or tart crust recipe.
Enjoy quince over ice cream, stirred into yogurt, and incorporated in baked goods, like our slab pie. The extra syrup is amazing in cocktails or stirred into seltzer.
Kale chips have become the belle of the ball in recent years. I predict the next gourmet chip will be these Roasted Brassica Leaves. Just like kale chips, they’re a kid-friendly—and grown-up friendly—way to crisp up some greens into snackable bites. Serve these up and you, too, can be a hipster food trailblazer.
My dear friend Luke Easter turned me onto this trick. Making mustard from the dregs of the pickle jar is an easy way to turn would-be trash into a zippy little spread. Of course, it helps if your brine is studded with mustard seeds, the common spice in many pickle recipes, such as bread-and-butter pickles and dills. You can mix the mustard half and half with mayo for an even creamier spread.
Call it a nifty shortcut or a sneaky cheat, but using a tortilla as a pizza crust makes this little homemade pie a snap. Whip it up for lunch or a light dinner, or cut it into squares and serve it as an afterschool snack or cocktail nibble. I use sautéed greens and goat cheese as the toppings here, but you can riff on the recipe with any combos that you like: traditional tomato/mozzarella, Swiss/mushroom, fig/blue cheese and on and on.
Makes 8 large rolls
Serves 4 as a side
Upon learning that one baby uses about 6,000 diapers during their diapering years, Angie Gregory knew she would use cloth with her own babies. After her second child was born, the entrepreneur had the idea to start an eco-friendly cloth diapering service that would align her everyday values of being home with her family, using natural materials on her babies, and reducing her carbon footprint. In 2009, Simple Diaper & Linen was born.
“It’s like being a part of a family,” says Laurie Wheeler of the Shelburne Arts Cooperative. The close-knit feeling created by the co-op is impressive given its size and scope: It has grown from eight founding members in 1998 to over 60 members today, the majority of whom live in Franklin County, though membership extends throughout the Valley.
When Dan Rosenberg began experimenting with making pickles in Boston in 1999, he did not realize how far his relationship with fermented foods would take him. He studied traditional diets throughout the world, the benefits of raw, fermented foods throughout many of these cultures, and learned some new fermenting skills in a NOFA workshop that left him eager to experiment with winter trials of sauerkraut, turnips and cucumbers.
I’m not a big fan of breakfast food. If I was given the choice between a bowl of cereal or salad greens to start my day, I’d almost always choose the latter. Most mornings I find myself craving last night’s dinner leftovers more than muffins, oatmeal, or a plate of scrambled eggs.
Confession time: Quince make us weak in the knees. These incredibly fragrant fruits (once upon a time, they were used as pomanders, perfuming many a linen closet) resemble apples, but their golden, russeted, occasionally fuzzy skins encase a fruit with a split personality. High in tannins, their raw flesh is bitter and astringent, but after a poaching in sugar or honey the flesh turns golden-pink and lusciously tender.
For the past two months I’ve woken up nearly every day thinking about rain. Weather, and talking about it, is not something any native New Englander is a stranger to––but this is different. My Instagram feed has started to fill up with images of dust, and I’m keeping one eye on the sky these days. No rain means no food, no food means no customers, and no customers means that we’ll be left struggling to keep our fledgling farmers’ market together through another week of slow sales.
Whole-food cooking is like foraging in your own refrigerator. It’s seeing the leaves you looked past before, noticing the silver (or strawberry, or mustard) lining in a jar you thought was spent. It’s putting more of those bits and pieces to work in the kitchen rather than in the compost pile.
My parents were of the meat-and-potatoes generation, but I took a different road. I laughed at my parents’ jokes about my sprouts and greens alongside the gallons of milk and margarine in the refrigerator. I saw the Genesee Co-op Natural Foodstore in Rochester as my one way to access healthy, organic foods that weren't available in supermarkets. At the co-op, I also discovered a vibrant community and warm connections.
On a sweltering Friday in July, I drive out to Breezy Acres Farm in Granby, home to Valley Green Feast (VGF), a year-round food delivery service. I spend the afternoon with Rebekah Hanlon and Bekki Szlosek, two of three worker-owners behind the cooperative. Before founder Jessica Harwood left the then-solo operation in 2010 after running it for three years, she turned it into to a cooperative model to ensure her initial vision lived on.
On my wife Angie’s and my first date, I picked her up at her grandmother’s home on the east side of Milwaukee, where she was living while attending college. I rang the bell at the back door and she ushered me into the tiny hallway. She quickly grabbed her coat off the hook and, mildly flustered, said, “Smell that? I have to eat that later.” It was the unmistakable fragrance of cabbage.