Digging for Gold

Dug-up-ginger
I love experimenting with Asian cuisine, especially Chinese recipes. I try to keep my pantry stocked with all sorts of spices and condiments so that when the mood strikes, I’m prepared to follow any direction. Friends have often commented that my refrigerator looks like it belongs to a Chinese grandmother and not a Jewish thirty-something. In the summer, my “pantry” is further supplied by growing scallions, cilantro and ginger in my garden. Yes, ginger.

We’ve all experienced this… we go to the market and buy a knob of ginger knowing that we only need an inch of it for any given recipe. The rest gets buried in the bottom of the vegetable crisper. And while it’s not so much waste that we should feel guilty, we still hope to use it up before it turns shriveled and mold. Some have suggested freezing ginger, but this sufficiently alters the composition that when eventually cooking with it, the aromas are a little more difficult to coax out.

During the summer, the best storage method is in the ground. I take a regular, ole supermarket hand of ginger and bury it in the garden. Invariably, I forget the exact location. The next time a recipe calls for ginger, I forage in the dirt until I find it. Fortunately, after a few weeks, the ginger as it continues to grow, shoots out sprouts to announce its location.

Ginger in the ground

After I break off what I need, I re-bury it in the ground again. This resilient rhizome continues to grow despite the multiple disruptions.

You can see the sprouts are attached to young ginger. The skin is thinner than "older" ginger, the flavor is more mild and the ginger itself is less fiberous.

A note of caution: One winter, I experimented with growing ginger in a pot indoors, and leaving a hand outside, buried. The ginger inside turned mushy, fiberous and hollow: a disaster. The wintered-over ginger was equally disastrous. If you've had success growing ginger in the winter in a snowy climate, I'd love to hear about it.

For more insight on fresh ginger, visit Lydia's blogs: The Perfect Pantry and Nine Cooks.
Thanks, Lydia, for taking great photos!

Peanut Dipping Sauce

This is great for an Asian style crudités or Chicken Satay.

5 tbs. fresh ginger, chopped

3 tbs. lemon grass, chopped

3 tbs. garlic, chopped

3 tbs. shallots, chopped

1tbs peanut oil

chicken stock

10 oz. raw peanuts, toasted

1 tbs. mirin

½ lime, juiced

2 tbs. rice wine vinegar

3 tbs. soy sauce

2 tbs fresh cilantro chopped

1. Sweat 3 tbs. of ginger with lemon grass, garlic and shallots in peanut oil

2. Puree above in a food processor with peanuts, remaining ginger, and chicken stock to thin.

3. Season with lime juice, rice vinegar, mirin and soy sauce. Adjust seasoning to taste.

4. Stir in fresh cilantro

Recipes for the Impatient Gardener

I’ve always known my garden is a few weeks behind everyone else. As I spy the neighbors’ yards in early spring when the crocuses start to burst, mine are still under a mound of snow. And when I go to the farmers markets, they already have mounds of zucchini, while I only have flowers. Their kohlrabi is just winding down, and mine still has a few weeks to go before harvest. Nonetheless, I’m eager to push the garden along.

Two weeks ago, I reported that the tomatoes had flowered, but not produced fruit. A little on-line research yielded a useful tip… Cut the leaves below the first flower. This enables to the plant to focus its energies on producing fruit as opposed to maintaining the foliage. Sure enough, two days later the first bump of a tomato emerged. Now all tomato plants show fruit, though still several weeks away from ripeness.

Green-tomatoes
At dinner Thursday night at Garden at the Cellar, we munched on Fried Green Tomatoes with Smoked Paprika Aioli. One friend opined that the origins of this dish come from resourceful gardeners using up end-of-the-season tomatoes before the first frost hit. Knowing the tomatoes wouldn’t have a chance to ripen, they picked and fried them.

To offer this dish seasonally, it should only appear on menus in the fall. I would counter that fried green tomatoes are also a great option for the impatient gardener looking to cook something before the crops are truly ripe. Should you go this route, be sure to pick the tomatoes when the green has a “matte” finish. Once they become shiny, they’ve reached a different level of maturity and will get mushy when cooked.

Zucchini is the ideal crop for the impatient gardener. The plant produces flowers at a prolific rate. Most flowers are male and will not produce a vegetable, so there’s no harm in harvesting them. If the flower is attached to a thick stem, likely it will produce a squash. For me, I’m happy to just eat the flowers. I know in a few weeks, I’ll be up to my eyeballs in squash and peddling them the way I did sage.

Fried Green Tomatoes with a Squash Blossom Relish.
3 green tomatoes
½ cup buttermilk
1/2 cup fine corn meal
½ cup flour
1 tsp. salt
¼ tsp. pepper
Pinch cayenne
2 slices bacon
2 garlic cloves
1 tsp. capers
12 squash blossoms, stamen removed
2 tbs. canola oil

Slice tomatoes about ¼ inch thick. Soak in buttermilk.

Season cornmeal with salt, pepper and cayenne.

Dice bacon, and cook in a skillet until the bacon starts to render fat, and the bacon just starts to look crispy. Add garlic and cook for until the garlic is lightly golden. Pour off any excess bacon fat and set aside. Add capers and squash blossoms and set aside.

In a large skillet, heat oil with leftover bacon fat.

Dust tomatoes slices in the cornmeal dredge. Add to oil, and cook on the first side until golden brown, about 5 minutes on medium high heat. Flip and cook for 3 minutes more. Drain tomato slices on a paper towel and serve with chutney.

Cooking from the Larder and Garden

Zuchini quiche

Perhaps it’s a combination of rising food prices, my concern about the impact of wasted food on the environment (both up and down stream) or my general laziness to do anything in the heat of summer. In the past 24 hours I needed to cook 2 meals – dinner for myself and breakfast with a friend – and I decided to cook with what I have in the house.

What I have in the house is limited. Further complicating matter is that I like to have vegetables at every meal, but I don’t typically keep them on hand. My schedule is varied enough that I only buy things that will keep for at least a week or two. Fresh vegetables, which decline rapidly, I buy on an “as-needed” basis.

The garden is still in the early summer lull – the spring crops are over, the summer crops haven’t yet ripened.

I piecemeal together the vegetables: Canned tomatoes from last years’ crop. Organic, truly vine-ripened. And since they’re really “jarred” they don’t have that tinny taste like commercially processed tomatoes. The yellow tomatoes won’t give a vibrant color to a meal, but they are exceedingly delicious.

A few squash blossoms.  As I just learned, zucchinis give off male and female flowers. The female flowers produce the vegetable, the males… well, the males don’t do much. The ratio of female to male is typically 1:5. Given that, I have no compunction about snagging all the blossoms that don’t have fruit behind them. That’s about a dozen over the course of two days.

The celery is not yet fully sized, but I could probably lop off a stalk or two without harming the rest.

The snow pea plant will be dug up in a few days, so I can snip off what’s left of the tender leaves and the last few peas.

The larder is pretty well stocked: eggs, milk, pastry crust, bacon, cheese, bread, black beans. And I have some left-over grilled vegetables – ¼ of a zucchini (from the farmers market) and ¼ of a bell pepper.

For the first meal, my dinner, the solution is obvious and easy: I pureed the canned tomatoes, warmed them and served it as soup with a grilled cheese sandwich. I garnished with some squash blossoms and fresh basil.
Grilled-cheese-and-tomatoes

For the breakfast, quiche seemed like a great option because I have crusts in the freezer (left over from the strawberry-rhubarb pies. I could make a variation on an Alsatian Quiche with onions, bacon and cheddar (instead of gruyere).

Instead, I opt for “summer vegetable.” I like that I can use up some leftover grilled vegetables, another can of tomatoes (I have about 8 pints left from last summer that I need to use before this year’s canning adventure begins) and the basil and scallions from the garden. The onions and bacon will keep for another meal.

Summer Vegetable Quiche

Pie Crust
1 ½ cups milk or half-n-half
½ cup pureed tomatoes
3 eggs
1 cup left-over summer vegetables: zucchini, red peppers, snap peas, celery etc.
½ cup cheddar cheese grated
Fresh basil, chopped
Fresh scallions, chopped
1/2 tsp. Salt
1/4 tsp. pepper

Combine milk and tomato puree in a sauce pot. Heat over medium flame until small bubble form on the edges. While milk is heating, whisk eggs. Slowly drizzle milk into egg mixture until combine.  Season with salt and pepper.

Line pie pan with pie dough. Sprinkle vegetables, cheese and herbs on top. Pour egg mixture over the vegetables until the pie shell is full.

Bake at 350 for 20 minutes or until quiche is set.

Farmers Market – Part 1: Zucchini and Squash Blooms

Zucchini and other summer squashes proliferate in the garden at an astonishing rate. This plays out in the supermarket when the price plummets from $2/pound to $.49/pound during peak season. Grocers practically give it away, and home gardeners usually do.

For me, this is good news since most markets (farmers’ or traditional brick and mortar) don’t sell squash blossoms – the flower that precedes the vegetable. And with their prolific growth rate, I may actually get enough flowers to serve a meal to more than one guest. The few times I’ve seen them in the markets they can cost $1/each. I’ve seen squash blossoms in Native American, Mexican and Italian Cuisines. This suggests to me that they are not a faddish new vegetable… they have been enjoyed for centuries. In Oaxaca, Mexico, Squash blossoms are a frequent filling for Quesadillas or a garnish for tortilla soup.

Squashblossoms

Harvesting squash blossoms requires careful timing. You want them before they bloom, though sometimes it’s tough to distinguish between a bloom that opened and closed, and one that has yet to open. You can see here that the tip of the flower on the left is slightly curled. This is a sure sign that the flower already opened.

Once you harvest the squash blossom, gingerly pull open a petal and snip out the stamen – which can be especially bitter and ruin a perfectly good meal. I had tried to take a picture for you – when the blossom was fully open, stamen poking out, but in the 10 minutes it took me to run inside and grab my camera, the flower had already started to close up.

Sometimes, the bloom grows out of the zucchini, and sometimes it just grows out of the stem. If can get it off the vegetable, then you are in for a treat.

In the Italian style, squash blossoms are stuffed with mozzarella and prosciutto. They can be battered and fried and served with a light tomato sauce. In the Mexican style, I stuff them with black beans, goat cheese and mint. I spice the batter with a little cumin and chili and serve them with a tomato salsa. 

In the farmers market this week, globe zucchini flank the tables. Their bulbous shape makes them ideal for stuffing.   My favorite is a traditional Eastern European flavored beef filling – mixed with rice, onions and tomatoes, seasoned with cinnamon, lemon zest, pine nuts and raisins.
Globe-zucchini

Fried Squash Blossoms with Tomato Salsa

20 squash blossoms, stamen gently removed
¼ lb. goat cheese
1/2 cup cooked black beans, seasoned with dried cumin and oregano
1 tbs. fresh mint, chopped
1 cup flour
1 egg
1/2 tsp. baking powder
salt, pepper and cumin to taste
oil for frying

1. Mix the filling by combining cheese, black beans and mint. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

2. Gingerly stuff each squash blossom with about 1 tablespoon of filling.

3. Make a batter by combining flour, baking powder, salt and cumin. Make a well and add egg and 1 cup water. Whisk to combine.

4. Heat a large pot with oil. Gently dip each blossom in batter and fry in oil until golden brown on all sides. Serve with salsa.

Garden Updates – The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

I left for a week’s vacation a little apprehensive about my garden…. Would it rain enough? Had I controlled the bugs, will vegetables actually emerge from these leafy masses?

First, the good news… it rained. The soil was pleasantly moist. More excitingly, the first burst of bright color has emerged… several raspberries are deep red – ready to be plucked. Though not yet enough to make anything of substance, I could garnish a few cocktails if I managed to not eat them before guests arrived.

Raspberries (2)

The cauliflower sprouted its first floret. The basil that was sickly two weeks ago (bottom photo) has recovered nicely (same plant, top photo), and the Brussels sprout plant that nearly withered from aphids has recovered too.

Basil---recovered
Sickly basil

Tomato plants that flowered two weeks ago have yet to produce fruit. Instead of a little bump of a tomato pushing the flower off, the flowers instead fell off without any fruit behind it. With my favorite resource (Brett) on vacation, I am left to wonder the reason. Is it not hot enough yet? Do the plants need more nutrition (in the form of compost or organic fertilizer)? Was it too wet? Dear reader, do you know the answer?

The ugly…. With so much rain and too little attention, the weeds have thrived this past week. A solid hour or two will be necessary to clean up the beds – not just for the aesthetics. If there’s a dry spell, I don’t want the vegetables competing with the weeds for water and nutrients.

With only a few raspberries, but plenty of mint, a raspberry-mint mojito seems like the perfect diversion.

Raspberry – Mint Mojito

yields 1 cocktail

4 tsp. sugar
1 ½ oz. rum
5 mint leaves
½ lime, juiced
Crushed ice
soda water or 7-up to taste
Raspberries and mint to garnish

Muddle sugar and mint with ice until sugar dissolves. Stir in rum, soda and lime to taste. Garnish with raspberries and mint sprigs.

Organic Vs. Conventional… The Debate Rages On?

Cost aside, most people would choose organic over conventional. The pesticides and chemical fertilizers may produce flawless looking produce, but I’ll take my bug-holed arugula over conventional because I know the flavor will be better and more importantly, I won’t be ingesting chemicals whose long-term effects I still don’t know.

The debate hit home this week, when I inspected my three cauliflower plants and noticed that one was decimated, and those little bug holes in the other two didn’t seem so quaint anymore.


The question of “organic or conventional” is rather simplistic. So many factors go into the equation including the rising cost of organics (and food in general), the tedium of achieving “organic status” and where the food was grown. Given the choice of a local, conventional tomato versus an organic tomato shipped in from California, I’ll take local! The added benefit is that I can talk with the farmer about his growing practices. He may not, for example, have the organic certification, but he works the land sustainably. My (organic farmer) friend Brett recounted to me the hoops he had to jump through to maintain his organic status after the laws recently changed. He admitted that he would rather forgo the certification than deal with the bureaucrats. As he states it, his practices won’t change and his customers are loyal and don’t need a seal to prove it.

On a personal note, I had to decide how to deal with my aphid problem. I rationalized that I’d rather have non-organic cauliflower than no cauliflower at all! When I went to Weston Nurseries I found several organic pesticides. The oily spray coats bugs’ wings and prevents them from flying. It also works on bees. I thought this would be a good thing since I’m allergic to bees. No, I was scolded. We need bees to pollinate flowers and plants and maintain an important balance in our gardens. Besides, bees don’t sting… it’s the wasps that do. Therefore, I can only spray after 5pm when the bees have gone to their hives for the night.

Garden Updates and Micro Climates

With the record temperatures of this past weekend, I eagerly inspected the garden for transformations from a spring garden to a summer garden. The arugula and mizuna decidedly prefer cooler weather. In this heat, they feverishly bolt and go to seed. Unlike basil, in which you can trim the flowers to prevent this process, lettuces develop thick stalks that are impossible to retract. At the top of the stalks are the buds and flowers that are the precursor to the seeds. Leaves continue to grow, but they become bitter as the season continues. I decided to harvest as much lettuce as possible – the lettuce at this stage will keep longer and better in my refrigerator than in the ground. In the off-chance that I have a few more salads to come from these plants, I harvest in the “cut-and-come-again” method. That is, I cut the leaves just above the smallest leafette – about 2 inches above the soil line. The smallest leaves are spared and given the chance to mature.

Tomato flower
The first of the tomato plants started to flower last week. I’m guessing that I have to wait another 4 weeks until the first fruit is ripe. The biggest curiosity of the garden is the basil. Four weeks ago, I purchased a six-pack of basil plants. Since the garden has various degrees of sun and shade, I decided to hedge my bets and plant in different locations. Some plants get more morning sun, others afternoon sun.

Here are two of the plants:
Healthy basil
Sickly basil

I had heard rumors that morning sun is better than afternoon sun. But intuition told me that afternoon sun would be better for “full-sun” plants like tomatoes and basil because the light is more intense. Given the huge disparity in these two plants, I decided to do a little research.

In the pro-morning sun column: The morning sun is better as it evaporates the morning dew and prevents leaf rot. Afternoon sun can be too intense and burn the plants. In the pro-afternoon sun column: plants that like full sun do better with the intensity of afternoon sun. The best sun is between 11am and 2pm.

More important, I discovered, are the micro-climates. Believe it or not, in my little swatch of land in Central Cambridge, there are at least 10 micro-climates. The variations and sun and temperature come from the obvious: shade providing trees and structures such as houses and fences, and the position in the garden. The bit of garden on the side of the house where the lettuces grow have 4 regions. As witnessed by the vigor of the plants, the center path gets the most sun. On the right side, closest to my house, gets slightly less sun. On the left side, closest to my neighbors gets the least. The front portion gets more than the back.

Less obvious are the reflections from windows. My neighbor behind me has windows that act like mirror to the sun onto my garden. Especially the morning sun hits at just an angle that the plants along the back fence get double duty – direct natural sunlight and the reflection from the windows. The plants in the “afternoon sun” section only get a single dose.

Determining the micro-climates of your garden is a matter of trial and error. Another option is to plant and see what happens. Based on what thrives and dies, you can figure out what works best where. In case you didn’t figure it out, the sickly looking basil was in the afternoon sun section, and the thriving basil was in the morning sun section.

Over the weekend I moved the smaller plants to what I hope to be a better location in the morning sun section.

Balsamic Vinaigrette
All this salad is great to ensure that I get my 5 recommend daily servings of fruits and vegetables. But salad dressing quickly cancels out the benefit with all the fat and calories. Here’s a reduced fat version of the classic balsamic vinaigrette (unlike bottled dressings, this is all natural).

2 shallots
½ cup olive oil
1 tbs. fresh thyme
½ cup balsamic vinegar
½ tsp. sugar
¼ tsp. pepper

1. Peel shallots. Mix with ¼ cup olive oil and wrap in tin foil. Bake for 20-30 minutes, until soft, and nicely roasted

2. In a blender, puree shallots, thyme and vinegar together. If it’s too thick, add a few tablespoons of water. Slowly drizzle in remaining olive oil. Season taste with salt and pepper.

Garden Updates and Sage Sagas

Glorious, hot sun followed by torrential downpours. Welcome to Spring in New England. As I peered out the window yesterday afternoon, streams of rainwater rushed across the fledgling zucchini plants. I wondered if they would be washed away…

Much to my delight, this morning the garden is doing well. The Brandywine tomatoes have already started to flower. This provides great relief since I tempted the weather gods by planting tomatoes in late April, even though New England can have frost as late as Memorial Day. And the brussel sprouts, though nowhere near sprouting, have big full leaves: another good sign. The zucchini plants still seem rooted in their original location

Bolting Arugula
The arugula was in full force last week. I’ve been cutting salads every night, dressed simply with lemon juice and olive oil, or with a few drops of reduced balsamic vinegar. Arugula does not like the heat, though. And at the first sign of summer, like we had on Sunday, the plants start to bolt. The stalks shoot up ready to flower and then go to seed. Try as I might to cut them back and stave off the process, the plants grow leggier every day. The downside is that the plants produce less leaves, the upside is that the salad gets spicier with each warm day. Photo of bolting arugula comes courtesy of Ed Bruske. If you visit his blog and read about a pig matanza and a turkey matanza… these are at my friend Brett's farm (aka Tales from the Farm). Though I was not with Ed during these adventures, I have had the same adventures on the same farm.

The sage continues to proliferate. Even after several whacks – an indulgent meal of pasta with sage brown-butter, several gifts to friends, I still have *gasp* too much. It seems that if I don’t consume it, I befall the same fate as all the other wasted food. Perhaps not as drastic, it seems if I grow it, I should eat it. Or let someone else eat it.

Fried Sage - 5-1

One solution: deep fry the leaves in plain oil until just translucent. After they drain on a paper towel, I season them with salt. The leaves seem thinner and melt in my mouth. They’re addictive like potato chips… light and crispy and salty.

A little on-line research revealed that sage has many medicinal qualities, including: reduces bad breath, reduces perspiration, reduces the symptoms of menopause and premenstrual cramps, increases brain concentration, and reduces blood sugar in people with diabetes. Be cautioned, if you are pregnant, you should not consume this wonder herb in great quantity.

And, of course, burning sage leaves can cleanse a home of negative energy.

Confessions of an Urban Gardener

I have a confession: I plant seeds and seedlings too densely in my garden.

I could have kept this secret, but in light of my overgrown sage, I had to come clean. I was wondering why Lydia’s two plants behaved so differently—one spindly and thin, the other full and robust. The truth is, I know why my sage is so hearty this year and hadn’t been in years past – each plant had plenty of spreading room.

This does not come easily to me. Each year, I plant lettuce from seed. Maybe it’s just the minuscule size of the seeds and my clumsy hands or my distrust that such a small seed will produce a full head of lettuce. Either way, the little sprouts are so tightly packed now that even the Square Foot Gardening
would shake his head. Similarly, the tomato plants get about 8 inches… they’re just so small when the go in the ground, I can’t seem to visualize how big they’ll become.

Then comes harvest time… and I look at the size of everyone else’s tomatoes, or my friend Brett’s lettuce (who’s using the same seed as me). I’ll admit I have size envy.

Uncrowded arugula
This year, I’m fighting every urge to crowd. I’ve already screwed up. On close inspection of my lettuce bed, about 5 sprouts crowd each millimeter hole. Crouched on my hands and knees, armed with office scissors, I first cut back about 50% of the sprouts. I didn’t pull them out as I would have disrupted the roots of the remaining plants. A week later, I went back, cutting out everything except 1 plant every 1/2” – 1”. From the second trimming, I yielded a gallon of baby arugula. Miraculously, the arugula is still growing strong, and I’ve managed to have a salad every day this week. Phew, I think it’s going to be okay.

My other vegetable bed is huge by urban standards, about 15’ by 4’. Nonetheless, I only planted for 5 tomatoes, giving 2 feet between each plant. This left me room so that I could also plant celery, eggplant, cauliflower and brussel sprouts, each with appropriate spacing.

Composting – Cambridge Style

Many farmers as well as home gardeners compost. This process converts food scraps and organic “matter” (leaves, weeds, etc) into soil. Oxygen, worms and heat decompose all this from recognizable things to soil in a matter months. The soil is rich in nutrients and fortifies a garden depleted by growing plants. Ah, what a cycle – We take what the earth gives us, return it back when we’re done and then we get back. Now, more than ever, we think about reducing our carbon footprint, and what better way than to compost. Instead of filling land-fills with our trash (and which rots and creates methane gas), we convert it to nutritious soil so that we can continue growing without artificial garden enhancers. And as an added bonus, it’s cheaper to compost ($95/ton) than hauling trash ($97/ton).

Cambridge has just launched a pilot composting program. While it’s not as evolved as San Francisco, it’s definitely a start. I picked up my composting bin

Green_bucket  at the DPW, which thankfully is just 1 block from my house. Unlike San Francisco, where the compost is picked up with the trash and recycling, I must drop off my composting at the DPW during open hours.

When I returned home, I promptly filled up the green 2-gallon bin with left-overs in my fridge that had been, em, er… aging. This is going to be a challenge. Less than an hour into the program, I’m already back at the DPW to unload. The obvious downside of this program is that I don’t want to run over to the drop-off center once a day.
Composter.jpg

I can also get a composting bin from the city. It's not particularly attractive and, unlike the bins available at Urban Gardener, the city-subsidized bins require heavy mixing. It’s a pretty basic contraption. The compost goes in the top, and drawers pull out of the bottom to get at the good soil. On the plus side, it's 1/3 the price of the "Tumbler" and require much less space. Two neighbors have used these… one still composts afer several seasons… the other gave up.

Given how quickly I accumulate compostables, I think I will try my own bin. Stay tuned…