In Season NW: Market Dinner for the In-Laws

Ann Forsthoefel, market manager of the Portland Farmers' Market, had her in-laws over for dinner the other night and, as you might expect, all the fixin's came from the tables of her favorite vendors. If you have a favorite menu or farmers' market dish, leave a comment and we'll compile a list!

Dinner for the In-Laws

Appetizer
Valentine cheese from Ancient Heritage Dairy
Assorted pickles, bean carrots from Picklopolis
Paté from Chop

Salad
Spring Mix from Spring Hill Farms topped with:
- Sliced pear from Draper Girls
- Caramelized Leek from Groundworks
- Feta cheese from Dee Creek
- Hazelnuts from Freddy Guys filberts

Pasta Two Ways
Rosemary infused linguine noodles from Nona Noodles topped with:
- Buffalo Italian sausage (Pine Mountain Ranch) in a tomato sauce (from my 2008 tomato harvest)
- Asparagus (Gala Farms) and Shitake Mushroom (Springwater Farms) in a cream sauce (cream from Jacobs Creamery)

Dessert
Blueberry Crisp made with my blueberries from last year.

Wine
Twist Wine (sold at the market)

Illustration from The Washington Post

The Joy of Gardening?

For gardeners, the mixed blessing of spring is the resurgence of life in our beloved gardens with the concomitant surge of growth in the plants we despise. My friend Denise reflects on her battle with the latter in this excerpt from her most excellent blog, A Year in the Slow Lane.

Again I stand, supported heavily by the shovel as the blood rushes back to my feet and a blackout moment passes. The childish laughter from the neighbor's yard has turned to squabbling as I unearth another batch of noxious weed bulbs and encounter a hard root that refuses to budge. I tug and see the razor sharp blackberry bramble across the yard rattle. I hack away and manage to break the root in half. Next year it will undoubtedly return at twice the size and strength. A bleeding finger and bafflement as to where the bramble originated temporarily take the focus off my throbbing back and tingling feet.

Giving up on the digging, I move to the less perilous task of pulling knee-high grass out of what used to be a planting bed. The roots rip satisfyingly easily out of the damp ground, though I’m feeling distinctly resentful at how well the grass thrives here in comparison to our bald, brown patch of “lawn”—much like the toxic blue flowers that have squeezed out my brother’s carefully planted daisies, dahlias and columbine. I ponder the perversion of weeds. So like humans to elevate anything labor intensive to that which is desirable. Tomatoes are Divas (if pampered correctly, they’ll repay you with transcendence), dandelions the Everyman. And when the rosemary goes ballistic and takes over the herb bed and needs to be hacked back with a saw resulting in an unsightly mess? Brittany Spears. Or LiLo…take your pick.

I go back to digging to give my knees a break. I’m pretty sure I can hear my lower back creak as I stand. Done with the bugs, the mounting hysteria from next door and my audible groans, our dog Koko the traitor moves inside. I picture the grass clippings and mud clumps she’s tracking through the house and onto the couch. I wonder if she’s mastered the remote and found the America’s Next Top Model marathon on cable.

Another shovelful of tops only, no bulbs. The earthworm carnage is getting critical (and no, cutting a worm in half doesn’t create two worms). My karma quotient is falling. The ranting in my head is getting shrill….or is it the child’s tantrum coming from over the fence? My back is officially in pain, I have a headache, it’s hot, I’m bleeding. I’ve now been gardening for 15 minutes and I’m completely over it. The space beyond the back door is once again officially dead to me. In a couple of years perhaps, lulled by the pretty pictures in Sunset Magazine and the delighted successes of friends, I may venture back out. But for now, I see it clearly.

If the kitchen is God’s workshop, the yard is the devil’s playground.

My Latest Love Affair

In any long marriage there are ups and downs, times of passion and times when Dave probably thinks, "What the heck am I doing with this person?" I've done the same thing with food, from what's known in our family as my Velveeta Period in grade school through my decades-long affair with pesto (I blame the garlic).

Several years ago the attraction waned and I moved on to other fascinations with poached eggs and stuffed pork, but recently a piece by Melissa Clark in the New York Times piqued my interest in looking up my old flame.

The reason? It had undergone some cosmetic surgery and I was finding its new look curiously fetching. The basil had been replaced with pea shoots, and after a brief dalliance with those curly greens last spring, I've been flirting with them a lot more this spring.

So when I saw some shoots waving their fronds at me from a table at the farmers' market, I brought them home and immediately looked up the recipe. A whirl in the processor, a little heat, and this new affair was off to a promising start.

Pasta with Pea Shoot Pesto
Adapted from The New York Times

For the pesto:
1/4 c. pine nuts
3 c. pea shoots
1/2 c. fresh cilantro leaves
2 cloves garlic, chopped
3/4 tsp. kosher salt
1/3 c. extra virgin olive oil
1/4 c. grated Parmesan

For the pasta:
1 lb. penne (or your favorite shape)
1 Tbsp. olive oil
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 c. pea shoots
1 6-oz. can albacore tuna
Zest of 1 lemon
Salt and pepper to taste
Parmesan for sprinkling

Put pine nuts, pea shoots, cilantro and garlic in processor. With processor running, drizzle in olive oil to make a paste. Pour pesto into mixing bowl and stir in parmesan.

Bring pot of water to boil and add pasta. Cook till al dente. While pasta cooks, heat olive oil in saute pan and add garlic. Saute briefly and add pea shoots, cooking till just wilted. Add tuna and stir to warm. Remove from heat and stir in lemon zest. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Drain pasta and put in serving bowl. Add pesto and stir to coat (you may not need all of it). Top with pea shoot mixture and sprinkle with parmesan.

The Garden, Week 6: First Harvest

The picture aboves says it all. Beautiful long red French ladyfinger radishes (dynamite in a bean salad), arugula and greens that were ideal alongside a pork leg Dave smoked. I'm replanting new radishes as I pull them out, hoping there's time for another crop, and the tomatoes are starting to flower in their little red teepees. And the weather? Spectacular for the rest of the week.

Grow, little plants, grow!

Commingling at Mingo

Like traveling to a place I've never been before, a new restaurant entices me with its siren song of adventure. The promise of new sights, new sounds, new tastes wiggles its hips, bats its eyelashes and beckons me to give it a try. Add to that the thrill of risk. Will it end up being a botoxed, liposuctioned, silicon-injected fake, full of flabby frippery and inflated prices? Or an intriguing journey full of never-before-seen vistas and strange, vibrant flavors?

The scene at Bar Mingo.

Here in Portland there's no shortage of opportunity, considering that dining establishments are opening up with startling regularity even in these lean times. So many, in fact, that longtime favorites are overlooked to dash after the latest cutie on the block. So when my friend Kim recently suggested meeting at Caffe Mingo on a relatively quiet stretch of NW 21st, my first thought was, "Oh yeah, Mingo! I've been meaning to get back there for awhile now."

Market asparagus with red onion and egg.

Putting our name on the list for a seat at the bar, next to the chef's table the best seats in the house, we went next door for a drink and a snack at the relatively new Bar Mingo. Both places have a wall of windows looking out onto the street, though the cafe has discreet drapery that adds a sense of privacy while not obscuring the view.

The view from the bar at Caffe Mingo.

We ordered plate of perfectly prepared asparagus topped with sauteed red onions and a crumbled hard-boiled egg to accompany our drinks and the complimentary bowl of chips. Very soon we were called next door to be seated at the aforementioned bar with a perfect view back into the kitchen. With very reasonably priced glasses of an Italian red in front of us, we decided to share several plates starting with bacon wrapped scallops and a mix of seasonal greens (top photo). To say this was good is an understatement, since the scallops were lusciously moist and the thinly sliced, lean bacon that wrapped them accented rather than overwhelmed their flavor.

Those killer gnocchi.

When I saw potato gnocchi on the list of specials I had to order them, though the sauce they came with seemed like it might be too heavy and, if they were a decent version, I wanted to experience them prepared as simply as possible. Now, in a lot of places, asking for a different preparation of a special item might be akin to asking for the chef to juggle in the nude while riding a unicycle. But what I love about this place is that our waiter simply suggested a butter and sage preparation instead as if it was no big deal.

Panna cotta to die for.

And when they came out they were all I'd hoped for. Soft and lightly pillowy, briefly tossed in sage-infused butter and sprinkled with coarse salt and fresh-ground pepper, these were the best gnocchi I'd had since the ones made by Sabrina Tinsley of Seattle's Osteria la Spiga when I interviewed her for NW Palate magazine.

At that point we were ready for dessert, and it was seeing our waiter Josh's eyes roll back in his head while describing the panna cotta with black cherries that made the decision for us. Not only gorgeous to look at, the creamy, lightly flavored custard was the ideal foil for the cherries' dark richness, making it almost a tragedy to get to the last spoonful.

It just reminds me that sometimes it's better to occasionally go backwards than always charging forward to the (purportedly) next great thing.

Details: Caffe Mingo, 807 NW 21st Ave. Phone 503-226-4646.

A New Era Begins

Last September I wrote that after decades of owning Volvos, we were considering leaving the fold and downsizing to a smaller car. After considering everything from Corollas to Insights, from hybrids to traditional engines, and even after Dave made a spreadsheet with a complicated algorithm that involved mileage, cost of the vehicle, cost of gas and the optimum number of Corgis (in our case, two), among other things, the one that kept coming to the top was the Mini, and specifically the Clubman.

And today was the day we marched into the dealer, put down our money and ordered one. Bright red, with a black roof. It should be here by August, so to celebrate what we're calling "The Great Ordering" we raised a glass of Christian's finest at HUB to our first new car ever. I say it's about time.

Flower Bed

Friends Judy and Tom sent the picture above and the description below. Wish I'd been there!

This was in the side yard of the cow camp where we camped for the last three days. Still too cold up there to have any flowers, but within a month, I'm sure the wife of the cowboss will have some flowers here.

The place is called Little Fish Lake Ranch. It's not a ranch in the sense that someone lives there the year round. In a couple of weeks they will have pushed the cattle up to this point and beyond, where they will stay until roundup in the fall. Tom's father and several of his uncles worked for an outfit that owned this place back in 1946. Tom was two years old when they lived there for a few months at that time. They moved with the cattle from one camp to another.

We were about 40 miles east of Tonopah, Nevada, and then drove on a dirt road north for 42 miles to the site. It is stunning country...if you like the desert.

Curious About Quinoa

Believe it or not, the cookbook that started me on my quest to break out of my starch rut (Potatoes, rice or pasta?) was written by some nutty group that believed that life on earth began with vacationing extraterrestrials. A gift from a well-intentioned friend, it was, as I recall, mostly if not completely vegetarian, and had some great recipes for using whole grains.

What grains had to do with our intergalactic origins I never quite figured out and the book has long since been purged from our shelves, but I was reminded of it the other day when I had a warm quinoa salad that our neighbor Susana had made.

Originally grown by the Incas, uncooked quinoa (pron. KEEN-wah) looks like tiny brick-red seeds that, after washing and cooking, have a faintly nutty flavor with a bit of crunch. It seems to combine especially well with vegetables and could be served warm or cold, and was perfect for an early summer backyard picnic. And no, no UFOs were sighted.

Quinoa, Fennel and Cherry Tomato Salad

1 c. quinoa, rinsed and drained
1 bulb fennel, halved, trimmed and sliced
1 red onion, chopped fine
1 pt. cherry tomatoes, halved
Several chive stems and flowers for garnish
1 c. house vinaigrette

Bring 2 cups water to boil, add quinoa and reduce heat to bare simmer, cooking until all the water is absorbed. Rinse in cold water and drain to stop cooking. Place in mixing bowl and add other ingredients, pouring in the vinaigrette and stirring to combine. Chill or serve at room temperature.

Gracious Goodness

When I was arranging to have breakfast with my friend Mary Fishback of Portland's newest (and bluest) foodie landmark, the Waffle Window, there was only one place to go. And that was Gracie's in the Hotel Deluxe, formerly known as the dining room of the Mallory Hotel.

Why not Toast, or the Tin Shed, you ask? Because of its quiet elegance, the same qualities I admire in Ms. Fishback, and also because of its marble-topped tables with restrained table settings, thick drapery on the windows and deliciously strong coffee in white ceramic cups.

The corned beef hash.

The other reason was more self-serving, and that was to have the bread pudding that I'd sampled on my last visit, a lusciously decadent version that was crisped and warm and served with a small pile of bananas and pecans, all dusted with a gentle sprinkling of powdered sugar. There was also a small pot of maple syrup on the side, but it wasn't necessary to make this crunchy-on-the-outside, soft-in-the-middle bit of heaven a total treat.

Mary opted for heartier fare, a hash of variously colored heirloom potatoes with corned beef, topped with two of the most perfectly poached eggs I'd ever seen. The effect of sitting and sipping our coffee in this sumptuous and calm expanse, the morning's sunshine pouring in the windows, was the opposite of most clanky, bright and jarring breakfast places. And one I'll be going back to soon.

Details: Gracie's in the Hotel Deluxe, 729 SW 15th Ave. Phone 503-219-2094.

It's Showtime!

Have you ever seen exhausted-looking pasta? Depressed macaroni and cheese? I saw them both and more at the recent DPI Western Division Food Show at the Convention Center. Luan Schooler of Foster & Dobbs had invited me to join her, promising we'd be in and out before I lost my way among the freeze-dried packages and vacuum-packed snacks.

Her one warning from her vast prior experience? Don't eat anything unless you're sure you want it. Heeding that sage advice, I found there were beacons of light amid the depressing displays of baked goods that never grow old, cupcakes frosted like watermelons and something called InnovAsian Cuisine that describes itself as "a proponent of frozen Asian component meals, appetizers and side dishes." (Component meals? Really?)

Bright spots like Allison Hooper of Vermont Butter & Cheese Company, whose Coupole is a dense yet creamy cheese with a bright goat tang. And Amy Turnbull and Stephen Hueffed of Willapa Hills Farmstead Cheese whom I'd met last September at the Provvista Open House when their creamery was just getting started and who are now well on their way to cheese greatness.

Then there was Alberto Solis (right) of Fermin, who was more than happy to carve off generous slices from the leg of Iberico de Bellota in its custom engineered holder with the solid granite base. After all, he said, for what people pay for this very special ham (around $100 a pound) it deserves a very special holder, no? (Gear-heads please note: It can rotate back and forth as well as around.)

And because its fat has many of the same beneficial health qualities that are attributed to good olive oil, he said, people in Spain call it an olive tree with legs. I just kept nodding and snatching slices out of his hand as long as he would carve them.

After our two hours in the land of cheese-on-a-stick and microwavable samosas, it was good to adjourn to Peet's for a well-deserved coffee and some fresh spring air and sunshine. It was not a place I'd want to spend much time in, and thankfully don't have to.

The Garden, Week 5: Big Developments

Our best ideas, at least around here, often get put on what we not-so-jokingly refer to as the "Mañana Plan." That is, it's something we'd genuinely like get done but because of lack of funds or bad timing or just plain old laziness, we don't quite work up the wherewithall to accomplish.

At first it seemed like the whole tree removal, hedge destruction and planting bed project could end up in the pile of good intentions gone awry, and it made me especially nervous to commit to it in print. But maybe the specter of having to face the humiliation of questions ("How'd that tree project come out?") or, worse yet, jokes ("Remember that tree project you wrote about?") galvanized us into action.

So Saturday bright and early found Dave driving out to Home Depot in his trusty truck, returning with a rented rototiller which he diligently used, along with a pickax and ax, to turn the patch of grass and a tangle of hidden tree roots into a new planting bed. Then it was my turn, while he had a well-deserved hot-bath-with-a-beer-back to soothe his sore muscles, to plant the tomatoes and peppers I'd purchased from the tremendous selection at Garden Fever.

The five tomatoes, Green Zebra, Early Girl, Cherokee Purple, Sungold and the wild card, a French Carmello, are now happily ensconced in their walls of water (above, left) with some of Dr. Kobos' Magic Dirt to help them along. The peppers I chose were two Jimmy Nardello's that I'd become addicted to last summer after finding them at the Gathering Together Farm booth at the Hillsdale market, and then two anchos, a pasilla, a jalapeno and a paprika.

The raised beds continue to thrive (right, above), and it's almost time to start harvesting the first chard, arugula and radishes. So exciting!

In Season NW: Mid-May Markets

It was a quadruple header over the weekend with four markets to report on, and the summer temps and clear blue skies brought out near-record crowds for the middle of May.

Portland Farmers' Market: Rhubarb, fiddleheads, sea beans and spring onions were practically spilling into the aisles, but the big event today was a tour of the market's prepared food vendors with manager Ann Forsthoeful. Tastebud head honcho Mark Doxtader was chopping up the spring onions he'd bought that morning from the vendor across the aisle. He already had a big pan cooking in the brick oven, its smoke summoning early shoppers for a slice of breakfast pizza. The big guys at Northwest Heritage Pork (left) were fortifying themselves with plate-sized pancakes and rashers of bacon in anticipation of the crowds to come, and Ann and I got to sample their jaw-droppingly good (and loaded) carnitas tacos. Dave and Barb Barber's Picklopolis stopped us in our tracks with containers of crunchy pickled asparagus spears and bread-and-butter jalapenos glinting in the sunlight alongside giant jars of their signature sauerkraut and huge dill pickles. "People call them walking-around pickles," Dave noted, adding that customers often get some to take home and then one to walk around and munch on while they shop.

Saturdays from 8:30 am-2 pm at Portland State University in the South Park Blocks between SW Harrison and Montgomery.

* * *

Beaverton Farmers' Market: The Oregonian's Kim Pokorny was just getting started on her presentation about growing vegetables in the Northwest, so I stopped and learned that with a little lime and bone meal in the hole that you've dug for your tomatoes will reap enormous rewards later in the season, and that snapping off the lower leaves and planting the tomato with only the top of the plant sticking out of the soil will cause roots to emerge from the buried stem, feed the plant. Filing away that information for later, I wandered through this incredible market, marveling at the aisles and aisles of seasonal produce that dwarfs even the PSU market for volume. My favorite produce stand, Spring Hill Organic Farm, had its usual stunning display of sorrel (photo, top), spring onions, vibrant heads of lettuce and purple flower buds popping from large bundles of chives, and the smell of fresh corn tortillas wafting from Canby Asparagus Farm made me almost wish I hadn't had that giant taco earlier.

Saturdays from 8 am-1:30 pm on SW Hall Blvd between 3rd and 5th Sts. in downtown Beaverton.

* * *

Hillsdale Farmers' Market: At Jacobs Creamery, new GSNW contributor Lisa Jacobs was joking with her dad, Michael (right), who was handing out samples of his home-smoked salmon at The Smokery booth next door. Asked how he got into the business of smoking fish, Michael said his kids gave him a smoker one year and (are you listening, Dave?), after trying several recipes that produced inedibly dry or salty fish, he developed his own recipe that gave him the rich flavor and texture he remembered from his childhood in Ireland. From there it was only a matter of time before he was selling at the farmers' markets that were popping up around town. And Ken Harry of Chanka's Catering, with his lilting Caribbean accent, said that he began selling at the market because he just wanted to make food for his neighbors. He said that some people were initially cautious about trying it, but the mild, tropical flavors of the shrimp and chicken he features have made him a market favorite, and the habanero chile sauce he has in a little jar on the side can spike up the heat substantially.

Sundays from 10 am-2 pm at SW Capitol Hwy. and Sunset Blvd. in the Wilson High School parking lot.

* * *

King Market: Nancy Chandler (left), artisan cheesemaker and fixture at several area markets, was doing a land office business in her signature chevre at her Alsea Acres table. She said she and the other vendors were floored by the overwhelmingly enthusiastic neighborhood response to this new market. Having started out in the business with two goats that a friend had given her son for a 4-H project, she now has a full line of plain and flavored chevre cheeses, including her newest, the cleverly named "Party in a Jar." Virgin olive oil, greek olives, sun-dried tomatoes, roasted red peppers, pine nuts, roasted garlic, rosemary and basil combine with a chunk of fresh chevre to make a perfect appetizer or hostess gift, she said, and it will last for several weeks in the fridge if you can keep away from it for that long. And it was all Kir Jensen could do to keep up with the stream of customers at Two Tarts Bakery who were clamoring for the diminishing stock of bite-sized cookies and bars.

Sundays from 10 am-2 pm on NE 7th at Wygant between NE Alberta and Prescott Sts.

In Season NW: Sorrel Tart

It's not exactly in the same league as King Arthur's search for the Holy Grail, and I'm nowhere near as dedicated as Julia Child was in her effort to master French cuisine, but my quest to incorporate more seasonal greens in my repertoire continues apace. This time it was a basket of sorrel that caught my eye at the Gathering Together Farm stand at last week's Hillsdale Farmers' Market.

Years ago I tasted some of the green, spinach-like leaves that a friend had grown and was intrigued by its fresh, almost lemony tang. I even tried growing it, but was overwhelmed with the volume of leaves that sprang from the almost three-foot-high plant.

But this lovely little bunch proved to be just the right amount for a tart with bacon and cheese. And, as I'd read, it lost some of its puckery tartness after steaming, and the leaves were so young and tender I didn't need to remove the stems, making this an easy and quick week-night dinner.

Sorrel and Bacon Tart

This quiche-like tart is infinitely mutable. Use any green (or not) and feel free to improvise by eliminating the bacon, adding peppers or whatever catches your fancy.

Crust:
1 1/4 c. all-purpose flour
1 stick (1/2 c.) unsalted butter or frozen margarine
1/4 tsp. salt
3 Tbsp. ice water

Filling:
1 small bunch sorrel
3 slices good bacon
1 big onion, thinly sliced
Pinch of sugar
1 c. milk, Half & Half or cream if you’re feeling indulgent
2 eggs
2 egg yolks
1/2 tsp. ground black pepper
Generous pinch of salt
1/8 tsp. thyme
4-5 oz. cheese (use a good full-flavored cow’s milk cheese like Spahn, Fontina D’Aosta, or Gruyere), grated

Cut together flour, butter, and salt in a small bowl with a pastry blender (or pulse in a food processor) just until mixture resembles an uneven, coarse meal with some pea-sized butter lumps. Drizzle 3 tablespoons ice water evenly over mixture and blend (or process) until incorporated. Squeeze a little in your fist. If it crumbles, add a little more water, blend in and squeeze again. Repeat if necessary, but don’t work the dough too much or it will be tough. When you’re satisfied, press dough into a disk about five inches across, and chill for at least an hour.

Preheat oven to 400°F.

Roll out dough so it will fit in a 9-inch tart pan with removable bottom. Press it into the pan and up the sides, leaving 1/2" overhang. Fold over this excess and press against sides. Freeze 10 minutes. Line it with foil and fill with beans or pie weights [I use heavy-duty aluminum foil alone] and then bake crust 10 minutes. Take out the weights and foil and bake until it’s starting to turn golden, maybe 10-15 minutes more. Pull it out and let it cool while you make the filling.

Steam the sorrel until just wilted (remove stems if tough). Chop finely. In a medium skillet, sauté the bacon over medium-low heat until it’s crisp and has rendered its fat. Pull out the bacon and drain on paper towels. Raise the heat to medium and sauté the onion in the drippings with a pinch of sugar until they’re deep golden brown (15-20 minutes). Spread the onions over the bottom of the crust, break bacon into bite-size pieces and sprinkle over onions. Top with grated cheese and sorrel. Blend together the milk, eggs, salt, pepper and thyme, then pour into the crust.

Bake until filling is set, about 25 minutes. Cool tart on rack for a few minutes and then remove pan sides. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Lovin' That Man o' Mine

My husband loves his beer, and I love my man. So when I heard via John Foyston's blog, The Beer Here, that the boys at HUB had started bottling their first brews last week, I knew a mission was in order.

On Friday when I pulled up to the loading dock in the old Volvo and unloaded the corny keg to have it filled with some of Christian's finest ($58 for five gallons and well worth it), I ran upstairs to the restaurant and snatched two 18-oz. bottles each of the first bottling ever. Which meant that when Dave got home and opened the fridge, he saw a lineup (top photo) of Hopwork's finest: Crosstown Pale Ale, IPA, DOA and 7-Grain Survival Stout.

It was the least I could do for that hard-workin' man o' mine.

Nel Centro: Hitting Portland's Sweet Spot?

Red is the number six, green is five, blue is four and yellow is seven, at least for Dave. For our son, the sweetness of kugel, a Yiddish pudding, is yellow, though other tastes and sensations can be shapes. Me? Strong smells often manifest themselves in my mind as colors.

It's called synesthesia, defined as "a concomitant sensation, especially a subjective sensation or image of a sense (as of color) other than the one (as of sound) being stimulated."

The mural in the bar area.

Something of the sort happened when I approached the entrance to David Machado's new baby, Nel Centro. Attached to the just-opened Hotel Modera, you walk by and look into the hotel's cool, modern interior courtyard with its Brancusi-like granite sculptures and think, "Wait, am I still in Portland?"

Hazelnut chevre.

Walking up the steps to the glass-enclosed dining room, I turned a corner and got a side view through the bar of what will undoubtedly become the city's hottest patio scene (move over, Fenouil). The bar itself is an open, three-sided horizontal expanse with the bartenders in full view, separated by a long open "hallway" from the diners in the restaurant. It could be a Tom Cruise in the movie "Cocktail"-like experience, with shakers flying and hips wiggling, but this place is a much cooler customer, with simple flat planes and low ceilings accentuated by warm colors bringing the mood down from disco frenetic.

Chef de cuisine Paul Hyman.

Dave and I were there for a trial run the day before the official opening and before they got their license to serve hard alcohol from the OLCC, so there was no sampling of the cocktail menu. I did get a tour of the kitchen from Lauro chef Jennifer Buehler, starting with the huge rotisserie and the wood ovens that face the dining room, then into the main kitchen and back to the pastry kitchen (this is a hotel, remember).

Pastry chef Lee Posey.

I also got to meet chef de cuisine Paul Hyman and pastry chef Lee Posey, both in full-on focus mode, so there was no chitchat as we shook hands and I wished them a good opening. And the food? From what we had and the buzz around the room it looks very promising, indeed.

Salt cod croquettes.

Each table was given a different fixed menu, and our starter of salt cod croquettes with sauce rouille was very good, though I'd have to say the fritters at Toro Bravo with their oozing, melty centers might be a tad better. The hazelnut chevre with piperade and tapenade was also well-done, the puck of chevre coated with toasted hazelnuts playing nicely off of each other, the spears of crostini crispy and light and the roasted yellow and red pepper strips a colorful touch. The tapenade could have used some punching up in the anchovy department, and came off as more of an olivada spread.

Rotisserie pork (note the "handle").

My entrée of rotisserie pork with fennel gratin and a mostarda of figs was sumptuous, and if we hadn't been dining in public I would have picked up the chop by the bone and gnawed away at the plump, juicy, medium rare hunk of meat. As it was, I was forced to slow down, slice a bite off and combine it with a bit of the gratin, a creamy and delicious mouthful, the whole fork-full set off by a quick dip in the mostarda.

Dave's roasted chicken and panzanella salad was not just a breast laid on top of greens, but fully half of a small chicken roasted with lemon and tarragon, the bread for the panzanella toasted like croutons. It'll be interesting to see if this dish changes when tomatoes finally come into season (are you as anxious as I am?) and the bread can sop up the juices and salt from the salad as it's meant to.

Ricotta fritters.

And the ricotta fritters brought for dessert, as my friend James would say, definitely did not suck. Fluffy, perfectly fried donut holes dusted with just the right amount of sugar were set afloat on a dab of ricotta cream and the plate this night was drizzled with a splash of rhubarb coulis. These I could and, indeed, would eat any time of day or night. (Try me, I dare you.)

If you get out on the patio before I do, definitely let me know what you think, and report back on the cocktail menu. Oh, and the color that came to me? Gold.

Details: Nel Centro, 1408 SW Sixth Ave. Phone 503-484-1099.

Creative Challenge

It was kind of like my own version of Iron Chef.

On the table were three potatoes, a few random vegetables, the bottom of a butternut squash and three eggs. The secret ingredient? Leftover roasted salmon! And it had to feed a family of three.

OK? Go!

Roast Salmon Hash

2 Tbsp. olive oil
1 yellow onion, chopped
2 stalks celery, chopped
3 cloves garlic, chopped
3 potatoes, cut in 1/2" dice
1-2 c. squash, cut in 1/2" dice
1-2 c. roasted salmon, broken into chunks
2 tsp. vinegar (I like red wine vinegar)
3 eggs
Salt and pepper, to taste
Parsley, chopped fine

Heat oil in large skillet. Add onion, garlic and celery and sauté till tender. Add potatoes and squash, sauté until they can be easily pierced with a fork. Add salt and pepper to taste. Add salmon and fold in, being careful not to break it up too much. Turn off heat and cover.

Boil water in non-stick skillet, adding 2 tsp. vinegar to the water. Turn down heat to simmer and break eggs into water, making sure they don't touch. While they cook, dish hash mixture into three bowls. When they're done (test by lifting out of water with slotted spoon and jiggling), use slotted spoon to set them on top of hash. Sprinkle with parsley and serve.

Regrets? I've Had a Few

For years I'd wanted to grow rhubarb but never got around to planting one. This year, though, thanks to my friend Lindsey, there's a small plant in the raised bed. Maybe I'll be able to give a cutting to contributor Jim Dixon of RealGoodFood in a couple of years!

Every spring when the first red stalks appear in the market, I have one of those "D’oh!" moments, realizing that, once again, I failed to plant rhubarb. The stuff grows like a weed here, and many yards have a big clump flourishing forgotten in a shady corner. Maybe next year.

I adapted this recipe from Tenuta di Capezzana, the Tuscan olive oil producer. It’s easy and incredibly delicious.

Olive Oil Cake with Honey Roasted Rhubarb

For the cake:
3 eggs
2 1/2 c. sugar
1 1/2 c. extra-virgin olive oil
1 1/2 c. milk
Grated zest of 2-3 oranges or lemons
2 c. unbleached all-purpose flour
1 tsp. baking powder
Large pinch of salt

For the rhubarb:
6 stalks rhubarb
4-6 Tbsp. olive oil
1/2 c. honey

Preheat the oven to 350°. Butter and flour a 12-inch cake pan (I usually make this in a 12-inch cast iron skillet). In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs and granulated sugar. Add the olive oil, milk, and orange zest.

In another bowl, stir together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Make a well in the dry ingredients, and slowly add the egg mixture, stirring just until blended. Do not over mix. Pour the batter into the prepared pan.

Bake until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean, 50 to 55 minutes. I let the cake cool in the skillet, and serve it from the pan. but you could let it to cool completely, loosen the sides with a knife, and invert onto a serving plate (hold the plate against cake pan and flip...hopefully it will come out in one piece).

Slice a half dozen or so rhubarb stalks into half inch pieces. Toss them with a few tablespoons of olive oil, then arrange on a sheet pan and drizzle with about a half cup of honey. Roast at 350° for about 20 minutes (I do the prep after the cake is in the oven, then cook the rhubarb while the cake is baking). Let cool and spoon over slices of olive oil cake.

Photo from Moosey's Country Garden.

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I’ve also been roasting rhubarb regularly, and for the last batch I used some of the Katz Meyer Lemon Olive Oil. The subtle citrus tang is a nice addition.

Honey Roasted Rhubarb with Meyer Lemon Olive Oil

Slice a half dozen stalks of rhubarb into about half inch pieces. Toss with about a quarter cup of Katz Meyer Lemon Olive Oil, spread on a baking sheet, and drizzle with a half cup of honey (you can skip the honey if you want to use the roasted rhubarb for something savory).

Roast at 350 for about 15 to 20 minutes. Eat plain or with yogurt, ice cream, or anything else that’s rhubarb friendly.

The Garden, Week 4: I Kill a Tree

The deed is done. Do I feel bad? A little. Like writing in books, you're not supposed to kill trees, especially mature, beautiful trees like the one I just murdered.

Grinding the stump.

But, as mentioned in Part 1 of my garden saga, I had good reason. It was buckling the sidewalk, creating a trip hazard for the mothers and children that walk to the school across the street. Worst of all, though, it was located in the sunniest spot on the property and shaded the raised beds that Dave built, causing my tomatoes to look more like Charlie Brown's Christmas tree than the lush, heavy-bearing plants my neighbor grows.

I got the permit required by the city to take down the tree and had Joe Harrity of Harrity Trees, a respected tree specialist, do the deed as well as take out the arbor vitae hedge behind the beds and "limb up" our other parking strip trees. Of which we have five. Does that mitigate the damage?

Hedge removal (by hand!).

The one problem is that the city requires replacement of said tree within 30 days of removal, and I'd really like to reserve that now-empty and sunny bed between the two driveways for a vegetable garden. Plus, planting another 30-foot-tall "street tree" from their list of approved trees as required seems like it would buckle the sidewalk all over again. (Does anyone know if there's a way to get a waiver from having to plant another tree?)

So, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I throw myself on your mercy. It was a one-time thing, and it'll never happen again. Be kind in your judgement, I beg you!

Livin' in the Blurbs: Hot Dates!

Just got a blurb from contributor Jim Dixon of RealGoodFood that Albert Katz and his wife, Kim, of Katz California Extra Virgin Olive Oil, will be joining him this Saturday, May 16, at his booth at the PSU Farmers' Market. Why should you care? After decades of using only Tuscan olive oil, none other than Alice Waters of Chez Panisse has dumped the Italian oil off her menu for the locally grown Katz product from Northern California’s Suisin Valley. The Katz' will be offering samples of their Chef’s Pick, Rock Hill Ranch and Meyer Lemon olive oils and answering questions about misleading labels, supermarket oil and anything else about the production of extra virgin olive oil. Sounds like a deal!

* * *

On Sunday, May 17, there's a bake sale at Foster & Dobbs Authentic Foods that will benefit the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. But lest you think that all you'll find is stale cookies and over-frosted cakes made with Crisco, the person baking these goods is the pastry chef at Pascal Sauton's Carafe Bistro, Meredith Mortenson, who also occasionally helps out behind the cheese counter at F&D. Top notch person that she is, she's committed to personally raising $5,000 for the Society as well as participating in their Pacific Crest Olympic Triathlon. What better excuse are you gonna have than eating dessert for a higher purpose?

Details: Bake Sale to Benefit the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Sun., May 17, 11 am-3 pm. Foster & Dobbs Authentic Foods, 2518 NE 15th Ave. Phone 503-284-1157.

* * *

The Architectural Heritage Center, a non-profit resource center for historic preservation in Portland, has a couple of upcoming educational events that look intriguing:

• Lecture: The Enduring Influence of John Yeon with Randy Gragg. Sat., June 6, 10-11:30 am; $18, preregistration suggested, tickets available online.
• 3rd Annual Old House Fair featuring renovation experts and showcase of goods and services. Sat., June 27, 10 am-5 pm; free. Architectural Heritage Center, 701 SE Grand Ave.

Clean and Soba

Potatoes (grilled, roasted, boiled, fried, whipped and smashed) are on the list. Pasta, of course. Rice, duh. Polenta (esp. from Ayers Creek Farm), definitely.

But soba? Not so much. It's not that there's anything inherently objectionable about it. I just hadn't had much experience with it up to this point.

We'd bought a beautiful salmon roast from Simon Sampson at the Hillsdale Farmers' Market (my choice for a Mother's Day outing) but, rummaging in the pantry, I realized we didn't have much in the way of my A-list carbs (see first paragraph). Then out of the corner of my eye I spied a package of soba noodles and, not wanting to make a trip to the store, thought that with the right dressing it might just make a perfect accompaniment when paired with the rapini I'd also bought at the market.

All it took was some searching online, and—voila!—a dressing was found. And maybe a new item to put on my A-list.

Soba Noodles with Rapini and Lime Dressing

Dressing:
1/4 c. rice vinegar
1 Tbsp. mirin
1 Tbsp. sugar
1/4 tsp. salt
1 large garlic clove, chopped
1 jalapeño or serrano chile, seeded, minced
1 Tbsp. fresh lime juice
1 tsp. toasted sesame oil
1/2 tsp. grated lime peel
Splash of Thai fish sauce

Noodles:
1 8-9 oz. package dried soba noodles
1 bunch rapini
1/4 red onion, chopped
Cilantro for garnish

In small mixing bowl, combine all dressing ingredients and stir to dissolve sugar.

Bring a small pot of water to boil and add washed, trimmed and chopped rapini. Cook till barely tender but still bright green and toothsome.

Bring large pot water to boil and add noodles. Simmer, uncovered, for 6 to 8 minutes, being careful not to overcook. Drain in colander and rinse with cold water. When thoroughly drained, put in serving bowl and mix in rapini. Pour dressing over top and toss to mix. Sprinkle with onion and cilantro. Optionally, noodles can also be served on a bed of rapini.

Meaty Guy

I knew it was only a matter of time. When he was at Castagna, chef Kevin Gibson's meat board with its house-made lomo, patés, mortadella and cured lardo was a must-have, each one carefully chosen and exquisitely made.

Kevin's deviled eggs.

When he moved over to open Evoe with Pastaworks' Peter De Garmo, I knew it would take awhile for those hunks of aged deliciousness to show up on the menu, since the curing process takes months of hanging in a cool environment to achieve that heavenly flavor. In the meantime we made do (oh, how we suffer!) with his pickles and preserves, all sitting in their briny jars on the big front table.

Then yesterday when we went for some early afternoon snackage, on the blackboard behind him there they were again. We ordered our usual starter, Kevin's mustard-packed deviled eggs with fresh tarragon, and I sipped on a delicious 2008 Chateau Miraval Provence Rosé while Dave opted for an Anchor Steam on draft.

The best wurst yet.

It took, oh, maybe 15 seconds to wolf down the eggs (enjoying each and every chomp) until the house-cured duck with mâche (top) arrived with several thin slices at room temperature, meaning the fat was just beginning to melt and contribute its creamy texture to the ducky, delicate meat.

Sumptuous scallops.

Next up was a plate of Kevin's best "wurst," three slender sausages of pork loin and fennel with juices oozing from each bite, paired with a smashed potato salad with tarragon and a blop of dijon for dipping. And to finish this indulgent, yet amazingly inexpensive, respite we ordered Mr. Gibson's signature seared scallops with peeled grapefruit sections and avocado. If only every day could be this delicious!

Details: Evoe, 3731 S.E. Hawthorne Blvd. Phone 503-232-1010.

Photo of wurst from Eat. Drink. Think.

In a Hurry? Pick a Pepper!

The clock is ticking. You're not only on deadline (whether with work or kids or just life), you've committed to taking an appetizer to a dinner party and some other slacker picked the busy person's easy out, the cheese plate.

Rather than hitting the store on the way there and picking up the bachelor's answer to any pot luck, chips and whatever salsa you can grab, the next time you're at the store get a little jar of Spanish piquillo peppers and you'll be set to impress. In all of fifteen minutes you'll have an appetizer that looks fabulous, tastes terrific and may just change your reputation as the chips and salsa guy.

Stuffed Piquillo Peppers

1 7.5 oz. jar Spanish piquillo peppers (I like Matiz brand)
6-7 oz. can tuna (if you can find Ortiz brand from Spain that's packed in olive oil, great, but albacore will do)
1/4 c. capers
1 Tbsp. olive oil
1 Tbsp. mayonnaise or homemade aioli
1/4 tsp. lemon zest

In small bowl mix tuna, capers, olive oil, mayonnaise and lemon zest, breaking up chunks of tuna. Carefully remove peppers from jar and drain briefly on paper towels. Hold one pepper in your hand and open like a cone. Fill with tuna mixture, arrange on plate and prepare to wow your friends.

Frugal Is As Frugal Does

"Amid economic catastrophe — Oregon has the country’s second-highest unemployment rate — there was a general indifference to wealth. In its place was a dedication to the things that really matter: hearty food and drink, cultural pursuits both high and low, days in the outdoors and evenings out with friends. It’s the good life, and in Portland it still comes cheap."

In early April I got word that Matt Gross, the Frugal Traveler columnist for the New York Times, was in town checking out the scene for an upcoming article. He was soliciting suggestions for local hot spots and venues to visit by way of Twitter, the micro-blogging site.

The results of those recommendations were evident in the Sunday Travel section in the article "Frugal Portland" wherein he waxes eloquent about the charms of our food carts, the sandwiches at Bunk, the beer at Hopworks, the rooms at the Ace and many other stops that, frankly, we take for granted.

He closes the article with: "Good living takes its toll on the body if not on the wallet, and we all need energy to face the next day’s agenda of food, friends and frugality. And every evening, as I drifted off in my soft Ace Hotel bed, under the reassuring weight of that wool blanket, I would try to figure out how to answer a question I heard almost daily, from strangers and from old pals who saw how smoothly I’d settled into my Portland routine. 'So,' they’d ask, 'when are you moving here?' I still don’t know what to tell them."

Photos by Leah Nash for The New York Times.

401? A-OK!

It doesn't have the celebrity that the spotted owl enjoyed as an endangered species (if that's not a contradiction in terms) and hasn't quite been blotted out of existence like the dodo, but the classic café, which used to be a ubiquitous part of every neighborhood in Portland, has seemed to take a back seat to high-end dinner houses and chefs-as-stars in the last few years.

There are exceptions, of course, like Donald Kotler's exceptional Toast in Southeast Portland, but simple breakfast and lunch places that are committed to making everything in-house and celebrating seasonal produce, as well as pouring a cup o' joe that makes mornings worth getting up for, have been in exceedingly short supply.

Which is why I was excited when my pal Kathryn suggested meeting at the recently-opened Cafe 401 for lunch the other day. Located on the corner of NE 28th and Flanders, it formerly housed a leather cleaning business and, when that business moved out, chef Morgan Brownlow and two partners moved in and created this unpretentious and cozy corner cafe.

The bar is decorated with license plates, the stools are covered in red vinyl and the walls are papered with old issues of the Oregonian, but the real attraction is the black board at the end of the bar with the day's specials chalked on it. Kathryn immediately went for the tart du jour, a slice of nettle, green garlic and chevre-covered buttery crust with a side of modest greens and a cup of the tomato soup, both intensely fresh and well-made.

I had to try the burger, my personal test of a cafe's lunch credentials, though I was sorely tempted by the smoked trout hash and the breakfast polenta. The burger was perfectly cooked (medium rare) and served on a light but nicely crusty bun that held up to the juices to the end. I ordered it with bacon and cheddar, though the bacon seemed to lack the requisite punch of smokiness that makes it such a great addition to a classic burger. Some crunchy potato chips were piled alongside, but the sneaker was the pickle, an unusual (and potentially addictive) combination of sweet, salty and crisp.

Though the Oregonian's Karen Brooks reported yesterday that Brownlow has resigned from the venture, unless there are money issues involved I don't see that it will affect the quality, commitment or hour-long wait at peak breakfast hours. I'll definitely be going back!

Details: Cafe 401, 401 N.E. 28th Ave. Phone 503-935-5221

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Sadly, as of 6/19/09, 401 has closed.

The Garden: Week 3

Like the swine flu or, more properly, the H1N1 virus, predictions of dire outcomes have been laid aside to be replaced by hope. All the seeds planted in the raised beds are coming up like gangbusters, and if the sun that's predicted for the weekend actually materializes, they'll have grown like proverbial weeds by the next report. But then, so will the weeds!

The permit from the city's arborist to take down the tree in the parking strip is in the mail, and the plan is to have it removed next week, plow the ground and plant tomatoes. The arbor vitae hedge will come out at the same time, and I'm just starting to consider what kinds of fig (yes, fig!) to espalier against the fence. My favorite black mission figs? Brown turkey? Let me know what you recommend!

In Season NW: Hollywood and King Market Reports

Hollywood Farmers' Market
Location: NE Hancock between 44th and 45th Aves.
Hours: Saturdays, 8 am-1 pm
(Dog-free hours 8-10 am; dogs allowed 10 am-1 pm)

The stars must have been aligned and the gods of spring distracted reading their Saturday New York Times, since even the rain held off for most of the Hollywood Farmers' Market season opener.

Xavier's eye-popping display of bright orange carrots and brilliant red beets piled four feet high in front of the Sweet Leaf Farm stand stopped shoppers in their tracks and made for long lines at the checkout counter. But everyone was so happy the market was finally open and so busy visiting with neighbors they hadn't seen during the dark days of winter that the wait became a pleasure.

And Tyson, the young bearded fellow with bright pink cheeks at Winter Green Farm, happily discussed everything from favorite recipes to Bernese Mountain Dogs as customers piled his White Russian kale, purple potatoes and spring onions into their wagons (supplied by the market for customers' purchases).

Looking almost but not quite too good to eat, the cupcakes (left, above) that Jessie Smith had packed into the bright pink display case was a smash hit with the younger set, and more than a few parents and grandparents seemed to be adding on to their kids' orders. It was Jessie's first market day ever for her brand new business, called Confectionery, but she said she'd be setting up her table at several markets this season, including Lake Oswego, Milwaukie and Montavilla.

* * *

King Farmers' Market
Location: NE 7th & Wygant between NE Alberta and Prescott Sts.
Hours: Sundays, 10 am-2 pm

If shoppers at Saturday's markets felt blessed not to be drenched while shopping, the neighbors who flocked to the Sunday debut of the King Farmers' Market in NE Portland must have thought they'd stumbled on holy ground with the sun shining in a cloudless blue sky and temperatures nearing 60.

There were so many people, in fact, that many vendors were running out of product after just a couple of hours, and were torn between elation at the market's success and stupefication at the unexpected crowds. Several NE neighborhood businesses were represented in the mix, including Random Order Coffeehouse, along with Portland Farmers' Market regulars like Lisa Jacobs of Jacobs Creamery and the ever-effervescent Connie Rawlings-Dritsas (left) offering samples of her sugarless fruit-based Blossom Vinegars.

Food vendors cut a wide swath as well, with buckwheat crepes from C'est Si Bon, the fluffy-as-a-cloud tamales from Micro Mercantes and, perfect for a sunny day, fresh fruit popsicles from Sol Pops (who get my award for having the cutest stand).

As for the question of whether Portland has too many farmers' markets, you only had to look around you to know that there's plenty of room for more. And if its first day was any indication, this new market looks like it's going to be a jewel in the PFM crown.

Seen and Herd

It's not exactly like finding a woodchuck chucking wood, but by golly those Corgis do have an affinity for herding, as I found out when I went with my friend Kim to Brigand's Hideout near Battle Ground, Washington, and watched Dave Viklund work with her and her dogs.

I'd always heard that these dogs were bred to herd sheep and cattle, and in only five or six lessons, Rocky (a black and white Cardigan Welsh Corgi) and Sterling (a blue merle Cardigan) have learned to "balance," that is move back and forth around the sheep; they'll eventually learn to respond to commands from a distance. For two dogs who aren't yet a year-and-a-half old, they're amazingly focused, though Rocky seems to have more of an affinity for the task.

The video starts with a woman who has worked with her dog (obviously not a Corgi) for a much longer time and uses the larger pasture, while the young "trainees" are in a smaller corral.

In Season NW: Market Openings

Iridescently green fava beans. Curly tendrils of snow peas. Garlic shoots sauteed, grilled or chopped. Is there anything better than spring in Oregon?

All of the beauties above and more are available at one of the almost 40 (and counting) farmers' markets in the metro area, so get to one of these opening this week!

May 7:

• Eastbank Farmers' Market. 3:30-7:30 pm. SE 20th Ave. between Hawthorne and Belmont.
• Fairview Farmers' Market. 4-8 pm. Fairview City Hall, 1300 Village St.

May 9:

• Beaverton Farmers' Market. 8 am-1 pm. SW Hall Blvd. between 3rd and 5th Sts.
• Canby Saturday Markets. 9 am-1 pm. 1st Ave. at Holly St.
• Cedar Mill Sunset Farmers' Market. 8 am-1 pm. NW Cornell Rd. across from Sunset High School.
• Gresham Farmers' Market. 8:30 am-2 pm. NW 3rd and Miller Sts.

May 10:

• Hillsboro Farmers' Market at Orenco Station. 10 am-2 pm. NE 61st and Cornell Rd.
• Milwaukie Farmers' Market. 9:30 am-2 pm. SE Main across from City Hall.

The Highest Compliment

"I wish I'd thought of that" is, in my humble opinion, the highest compliment one can pay to an idea, whether it's a new ad, a new internet service or a garden accessory.

And that's exactly the thought that ran through my mind when I heard about Recession Proof Mixology (RPM), a weekly series promoting the alcoholic inventions of Portland distiller House Spirits. This very simple idea is for Aviation Gin principals (that's Matt Mount, executive distiller, wielding the shaker in the photo at top) to hit various happy hour hot-spots, make cheap and delicious drinks for patrons using their product and then slip away into the night to reappear at another venue the next week.

Not only are they getting their product into potential customers' gullets, they're introducing local bartenders to said products and drawing new crowds to bartenders' stools. Oh, and those new patrons? They're not only dumping their silver into desperate bar-owners' cash registers on a slow night, they're spreading the word about the events to their friends. Freaking brilliant.

I met a friend at the RPM night at Vindalho the other evening, and with her able assistance and the most excellent ministrations of bartendress Shannon, we sampled and sipped our way through the offerings along with several plates of happy hour noshes. Like I said, freaking brilliant.

And thanks to Shannon's light (and sticky) fingers, I came away with a couple of recipes she snuck from behind the bar so you can have your own event. Enjoy!

Pegu Club Cocktail

2 oz. Aviation Gin
3/4 oz. Grand Marnier
5/8 oz. freshly squeezed lime juice
1 dash Angostura bitters
Lime wedge

Fill shaker 2/3 full of ice, add all ingredients except for lime wedge. Shake. Serve up with lime wedge.

Singapore Sling

1 1/2 oz. Aviation Gin
1/2 oz. freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 oz. pineapple juice
1/2 oz. simple syrup
2 dashes Angostura bitters
1 oz. soda
1/2 oz. Benedictine
1/2 oz. Cherry Heering
Lemon wedge
Maraschino cherry

Fill shaker 2/3 full of ice. Add gin, lemon juice, pineapple juice, simple syrup, bitters and soda. Shake, serve up with float of Benedictine and Cherry Heering. Top with lemon wedge, maraschino cherry and pineapple leaf on a pick.

Botticelli

1 1/2 oz. Medoyeff Vodka
3/4 oz. Aperol
1/4 oz. clover honey syrup (equal parts honey and hot water, dissolved)
1 1/2 oz. freshly squeezed grapefruit juice
1 oz. Prosecco

Fill shaker 2/3 full of ice. Add vodka, Aperol, honey syrup and grapefruit juice. Shake, pour into champagne flute and add Prosecco.

Dairy Report: Rocking Out and Rolling Over

Enthusiastic doesn't begin to describe Lisa Jacobs of Jacobs Creamery. Originally from Ireland, she moved to the States with her family in the 80s and just a year ago decided she wanted to make cheese for a living. With the help of Garry Hansen of Lady-Lane Farm, she's done just that, and now has booths at the PSU, Hollywood, Milwaukie, Hillsdale, King, Eastbank and Lake Oswego farmers' markets. And she just sent out her first newsletter this week. Here's an excerpt.

Holy smokes, what a week! The cheese room was a-rockin' this week. I processed 1,272 pounds of milk and, yes, show tunes and Willie Nelson were played and American Pie was belted out at full blast. Garry couldn't help himself and belted out a few tunes himself. I think the baby cows, which are closest to my cheese room, liked my singing because they started some of their own. They are awfully cute and work with what they have, which I respect, and there are a lot of moo moo mooooos.

One of the really super things about working with Garry is that he has cool dairy friends with very cool Jersey cows. Everyone loves Garry and always likes to help him, so when we were in need of some special equipment, he called up his dairy buds for a favor. I was given the task of picking up our borrowed gear and, boy, was I happy I did. I needed a cheese rake and Garry needed a snap thingy or other and so off I went to Coelho Dairy. They have 300 Jersey cows and I got the grand belle tour! Three hours later we were finishing up and he asked me if I wanted to see his truck. Are you kidding? Hell, yeah, I wanted to see it!

It was some truck. It has a Thermo King unit on it and is the box style van that I see the serious vendors at the market driving. Now, my van isn't small but it does seem inadequate compared to others. I must have some American spirit in me because I am starting to think with nine markets a week lined up, that bigger and colder might be better. That's very American because Americans all love things big and ice, ice, ice equals cold, cold, cold.

I am taking it to the doc to get inspected, so stay tuned. Stay away, too, because, as some of you have experienced, I roll over things from time to time. (Sorry about your measuring tape, Jaret.) If it happens that I get the truck, the Gorge-ites (people that live in the Gorge) that get me to deliver won't be the only ones on my route. We hope to offer a home delivery service in the fall and will be delivering fresh milk and yummy dairy goodies to your door. What a service!

I conclude this week with a super fab recipe for using my ricotta in your kitchen.

Ricotta Fritters (Polpette di Ricotta)
From Saveur magazine

Chilling the ricotta–prosciutto mixture after mixing it allows the flavors to come together and makes the balls easier to form.

2 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
4 cloves garlic, smashed
1/2 tsp. crushed red chile flakes
1 14-oz. can crushed tomatoes
6 basil leaves, torn in half
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
1 c. homemade or store-bought ricotta
1 c. fresh bread crumbs
1/2 c. grated pecorino
1/3 c. grated mozzarella
1 tsp. finely chopped flat-leaf parsley leaves
1/2 tsp. grated lemon zest
1/8 tsp. freshly grated nutmeg
3 egg yolks plus 2 eggs
4 oz. thinly sliced prosciutto, finely chopped
1/4 cup flour
1/2 cup dried bread crumbs
Canola oil, for frying

Heat olive oil in a 2-quart saucepan over medium-high heat. Add garlic and cook, stirring occasionally, until golden, about 5 minutes. Add chile flakes; toast for 1 minute. Add tomatoes and basil, bring to a boil, lower heat to medium, and cook, stirring occasionally, until sauce begins to thicken, 6-8 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Reduce heat to low; keep warm.

Stir together ricotta, fresh bread crumbs, pecorino, mozzarella, parsley, lemon zest, nutmeg, egg yolks and prosciutto in a medium bowl. Season with salt and pepper; cover and refrigerate until firm, about 30 minutes.

Put flour, whole eggs and dried bread crumbs into 3 separate shallow dishes; whisk eggs. Using your hands, form chilled ricotta mixture into 1 1/2" balls. Working with 1 ball at a time, dredge in flour, then eggs, then bread crumbs, shaking off any excess. Transfer to a parchment paper-lined sheet tray.

Pour enough canola oil into a 4-quart saucepan that it reaches a depth of 2". Heat over medium-high heat until a deep-fry thermometer inserted in the oil registers 350°. Working in batches, fry the ricotta balls, turning occasionally, until golden brown, about 3 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the balls to a paper towel-lined plate. Serve with the tomato sauce.

Makes 20 fritters.

Biographical info thanks to Tami Parr at Pacific NW Cheese Project. E-mail Lisa to subscribe to her newsletter.

A Bite of Family History

My mother was not a great cook, but did a decent job of feeding her family of five staples like Spanish rice, tuna casserole and goulash. Her own mother was a terrible cook, and growing up in North Powder, Oregon, a teeny Eastern Oregon town of 400, hadn't provided much in the way of adventurous dining. She did occasionally venture into unknown territory, which brought exotic foods like tacos, made with store-bought packets of Taco Mix and greasy fried tortillas, to our dinner table.

There were recipes of hers I made sure to copy down before I left home. Her pineapple carrot cake, favorite holiday cookie recipes and, probably her pièce de resistance, a fabulous all-American summer favorite, potato salad.

The other day I needed to contribute a side dish for my brother's birthday dinner, and had mentioned bringing a rocking quinoa salad that Susana had made, or maybe Luan's terrific farro salad with pecorino and cherry tomatoes. But when I brought up Mom's potato salad, his eyes lit up and the deal was sealed.

Now, everyone has their own definitive version of potato salad, with accompanying debates about the merits of mayo versus salad dressing, celery or not. My mother's called for russets (no Yukon golds for her, mister), pickle juice as the dressing's secret ingredient and it had a slightly pink tinge from what we refer to as God's own condiment, ketchup.

And there's nothing that reminds me of her more than when I dig into a pile of this.

Mom's Potato Salad

Dressing:
2 c. mayonnaise
1/2 c. ketchup
2 tsp. worchestershire
2 tsp. basil
1/8 tsp. garlic powder
1/2 tsp. celery salt
1/2 tsp. thyme
1/3 c. pickle juice
1 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. pepper

Salad:
8 med. russet potatoes
1 yellow onion
10 eggs
6 med. pickles

Put unpeeled potatoes in a large saucepan or Dutch oven and cover with water. Place on stove and bring to a boil. Cook until potatoes are tender but not mushy. Drain and cool (can be made ahead).

While potatoes cook, make dressing. Put all ingredients in a bowl and stir to combine.

Slice cooled potatoes into 1" square and 1/8" wide pieces (or bite-sized). Chop onion and pickles fine. Chop eggs. Put in a large bowl, pour dressing over top and fold it in (don't stir or the potatoes will break up too much) until thoroughly combined. Place bowl in refrigerator and let sit for a couple of hours so flavors have a change to mingle.

Serves 10-12. This recipe makes a huge batch, so you may want to halve it.