Haiku Friday

I have a guest post
at Limes and Lycopene, on
local food, of course.


(Thank you, Kathryn.)

Slow Food Nation Radio Forum With Michael Krasney

I bought tickets months ago for the Food For Thought speakers series of Slow Food Nation happening this weekend in San Francisco. All my favorite speakers will be there plus some I've not heard before.

But the fun and inspiration has already begun. Yesterday, Dr. Vandana Shiva, Anya Fernald, Eric Schlosser and Michael Pollan did a Slow Food hour on the Forum with Michael Krasney.

Here's a link if you'd like to hear the show.

The group touched on everything Slow Food is about; social justice, fair food, environmental sustainability, democracy, the importance of voting with your fork, sitting down at the table and yes, the pleasure of taste.

I've listened to it twice.

Wherever you are this weekend be a part of the Slow Food Nation; enjoy the story and taste of your food, the people at your table and make a vote with your fork, your butter knife, tablespoon and every teaspoon in your drawer for a food system that is healthy for every living thing -

Choose food with the least amount of packaging.

Plant one thing that you will be able to eat.

Go to the farmers' market.

Buy local organic when you can.

Taste your food.

Say, "I won't buy it!" to industrial and manufactured foods that imitate the real thing.

Enjoy a food in season.

No one thing will solve all the challenges of our food systems but every one thing is a step in the right direction.

Let's leave no waste behind and make each step delicious.

Jalapenos

I've always thought all jalapenos were created equal. That it was a pepper to slightly fear. And then I would have a jalapeno mild as a bell pepper. The next time I'd pile them on and damn if I wouldn't have volcano mouth. It was confusing.

I'd think back to where I bought the peppers. It must be the grower, I'd conclude. They were either doing something right or wrong. But the theory didn't hold. It must be the season, was my next idea. Then, where the pepper was grown, if they buried milagros beneath the plants, planted them under a new moon, picked them young, mature, at noon under a devil red sun.

Finally, in a weak moment and unwilling to gamble with what will be our winters storage of frozen peppers, ala Yankee Food, I asked a grower.

"There are different varieties of jalapenos," he said. How logical. He named several. All I remember is he had dimples when he smiled. "These are hot," he confirmed weighing the bag I'd handed him.

He was right. I've had fire-mouth all week.

From now on, he's my pepper man, but if I do find myself buying jalapenos somewhere else, I'll be sure to ask. I don't want to risk a single meal with peppers to having them be mild.

Kohlrabi Salad

Have you ever ate kohlrabi?

A German woman I knew grew them when I was a kid. She would cook them in an onion and butter sauce and they were my favorite vegetable. Although it's debatable if I enjoyed the butter sauce or the vegetable more. In any event, I haven't ate one in decades, until yesterday.

A farm hand from Paradise Valley Farm in Bolinas was the demo cook at the Pt. Reyes farmers' market. He picked what was available at the farm that morning and prepared it a couple of hours later with an audience. He was my kind of a cook, making it up on the spot with the ingredients in front of him.

He stuffed male squash blossoms with a leaf of basil wrapped around a triple cream cheese from the Cowgirl Creamery. He made a summer squash salad. And he made kohlrabi salad.

We were all skeptical. I'd never eaten raw kohlrabi before, but everyone liked it. I couldn't wait to make it today. The salad tastes fresh, as if by eating it I could sprout upper arm muscles or petaled blossoms from the palms of my hands.

Here's the recipe for two.

1 Peeled and Chunky Diced Kohlrabi
1 Minced Garlic Clove
1 Handful of Chopped Parsley
Olive Oil to Taste
Salt and Pepper

Using your hands, turn over all the ingredients until mixed thoroughly, adding olive oil, salt and pepper to your liking. Serve at room temperature.

The farm hand/cook recommended the salad be eaten with your fingers and he's right. A fork is too impersonal for such a clean and fragrant salad. And plus, it's more fun.


(Check out my review of an Unreasonable Woman at the Bookworm Blog.)

Haiku Friday

Five pears from a friend,
too pretty to eat, in a
bag left at the door.

Lost Mountain

This week I'm a wormer; a Blogging Bookwormer. It's my week at the other blog. Come on over and check it out.

There's a review from Fix on A Year Without Made In China.

And I reviewed Lost Mountain, A Year In The Vanishing Wilderness, Radical Strip Mining and the Devastation Of Appalachia by Erik Reece, forward by Wendell Berry.

And let me know what you're reading before summer vacation comes to a close and all the gold medals have been awarded. There are never too many good books.

Throwaway Packaging

I'm a slow learner with a bad memory. I have no idea how long it took to realize that eating local food meant primarily eating food without throwaway packaging. That should have been the first thing I noticed.

There's still packaging in that I carry reused bags in my purse for spontaneous markets. And I have a canvas bag especially for reused bags and a collection of smaller and mesh cotton bags. (All of which makes a nice nest when buying peaches.)

I bring home yogurt in mason jars that I keep or return for the deposit depending on my mood. We reuse the zip lock bags the rice comes in, return the green berry baskets, the almond butter and jam jars. The dried beans do come in a cellophane bag but are so good I can't give them up.

I don't refuse eggs cartons but borrow them for a week at a time. Our cheese has a bit of saran wrap around it and local meat is wrapped in plastic too. It's impossible to break away completely.

At the grocery store I buy milk in returnable bottles although our butter still comes in a box wrapped one cube at a time. I buy flour in bulk, yeast in a jar, baking powder in a crisp plastic bag. And then I leave the store. Okay, sometimes with a bag of tortilla chips too.

There have been several times I've come home from the farmers' market and pulled a purveyors plastic tub of goods from the bag. "What was I thinking?" I always ask. Not that I mind an occasional plastic tub, I reuse it, but generally speaking what's in the tub isn't as good as the logo its branded with.

I'm learning. Packaging that isn't returnable or reusable often means I'm being impulsive. I may want to walk away, reevaluate.

Although being impulsive has it's joys too. Like the day I accepted a taste of dark chocolate covered organic almonds. I'm still using that container.