Garden 2013: The Greens of Summer

Consider the source: Frank Morton of Wild Garden Seed has been breeding and selecting lettuce and salad greens for decades on his farm near Philomath. He and his wife, Karen, were some of the original suppliers for Genoa back when it was one of the few restaurants in town featuring seasonal produce from local suppliers.

Cathy Whims, then its chef, remembers the packages that would arrive from the Mortons. "It was the most extraordinary salad, the likes of which I have not seen ever again," she said.

"The salad would come in bags of about eight servings per bag," she said. "The bags would be lined with this beautiful muslin cloth and stamped Wild Salad Mix. There would be layers of 20 different greens that would be stunning, wrapped up like a Parisian chocolate box."

Also inside the bags there would be a handwritten key to the varieties of lettuces and greens, along with pictures of the children and of the various lettuces in the fields. The key would be posted in the kitchen so the staff could check it if guests had questions about their salad greens. The photos were posted there, too, and Whims remembers, "We all felt like we were part of this family we'd never met."

This spring, after I experienced a dismal failure of an initial planting of lettuce seeds from another company (which, admittedly, might have been the result of extremely hot weather right after planting), Carol Boutard shared some of Frank's seeds that she and Anthony planted at Ayers Creek Farm. Those seeds, developed for the climate of the Northwest, have performed stunningly in my garden this year (top photo).

While you won't find packets of Wild Garden Seed in stores in the Portland area, you can be sure that next year I'll get my order in early on their website, and look forward to another great harvest next summer.

Read the profile of Frank Morton that I wrote for Edible Portland.

Farm Bulletin: The Vegetables of Vinegar & Salt, Pt. 2

Just when I start thinking we 21st Century types are soooooo smart, someone digs up some old dude who had it so much more together than we do. One such old dude is John Evelyn, who was all over a diet of vegetables about, oh, 300-plus years ago. Contributor Anthony Boutard of Ayers Creek Farm has been getting to know Mr. Evelyn of late, and shares his discoveries with us. Read Part One here.

Before Karen and Frank Morton veered into the seed business, their Wild Garden Seed salad greens were cherished by Portland restaurants. We love hearing Cathy Whims [when she was the chef at Genoa in the late 90s] describe the careful attention the Mortons paid to preparing the ever-changing mixture of greens, every leaf perfect, delivered in a damp muslin bag. Evelyn (above, by Robert Walker) demanded the same attention for his mixture; "let your herby ingredients be exquisitely cull'd and cleans'd of all worm-eaten, slimy, canker'd, dry, spotted or in any ways vitiated leaves." He specifies spring water for washing and, after draining, swinging them gently in a coarse napkin to draw off excess moisture.

The carefully gathered greens need the finest couture de cuisine. For oil in the dressing, he commends omphacine pressed from olives native to the Republic of Lucca, now a province of Italy and still producing superb olives. Olive oil had a range of uses and grades, including lighting and lubrication, as well as food. Omphacine is the first pressing of green olives, what we call, implausibly, "extra virgin" today. For the contrasting acid, the best wine vinegar is specified, though lemon and the tart juice squeezed from verjus grapes also meet his approval. If that special grape type is not available, the freshly squeezed juice from other small, unripe grapes will do. For salt, he favors the "brightest bay grey-salt," what is sold today as fleur de sel and sel gris. The seasonings are English mustard, preferably from Tewksberry, and pepper (black or white). The yolk of a freshly laid egg, boiled moderately hard, is allowed as desired.

He finishes up with the tools needed. These include a willow or osier basket with partitions to separate the various salad greens as they are collected so the correct proportions are used, a silver knife to trim them, and a porcelain or Delft-ware bowl for serving. The iron knife, pewter and silver bowls in use at the time would leave the salad with an unpleasant metallic flavor. In his attention to detail and proportion in preparing and presenting his salad, Evelyn has no rival even among the most fussy modern chefs and gardeners.

The latter half of "Acetaria" deals with seasonality and health, and what we refer to as "industrial food" today. Evelyn inveighs against the flaccid vegetables raised in urban hotbeds prepared from over-rich stable muck and other filth collected from the city streets, favoring instead the healthy vegetables grown in the rich humus of the countryside and hedgerows. He also disparages "forwarding," pushing the vegetable and fruit growth outside of their natural seasons and into inferior quality. He promotes the merits of a diet of vegetables.

Evelyn was not a vegetarian per se; he was an ardent lover of vegetables and a southern diet, what we refer to as the Mediterranean diet. He advocated eating mostly plants, and was appalled by the slaughter methods in London's abattoirs, much in the same spirit as Michael Pollan pushes us to think about our food's origin and quality. However, he was not wantonly dogmatic, so he leaves the question of whether salad should come before or after the savory dishes convincingly explored and learnedly unresolved, as it still is more than three centuries later.   

In addition to the original 1699 edition, "Acetaria" has been reprinted at least four times. In 1934, the Women's Auxiliary of the Brooklyn Botanic Garden published the complete work in an edition of 1,000 copies, nicely bound with hand cut signatures. This version is available electronically on Gutenberg. Still Point Press of Dallas, Texas published a numbered edition of 1,000 on high quality French paper (1985) along with a few illustrations, bound with a leather spine. Unfortunately, this handsome edition leaves out the Greek and Latin passages and the margin notes, and the artsy illustrations have no botanical merit. A 1996 version of "Acetaria," published by Prospect Books, now in paperback (2005), retains the whole text and translates the Greek passages, a more satisfactory approach. Finally, The Grand Salad (Peacock Vane, Isle of Wight, 1984) is a book based on passages from "Acetaria." Sadly, it is hard to read as it is handwritten in a calligraphic style. The work also has egregious deletions and some additional dry text that adds nothing to Evelyn's original, despite its good intentions.

Read The Vegetables of Vinegar & Salt, Part One.

Livin' in the Blurbs: A Dram of This, A Slice of That

I don't know a soul who wasn't heartbroken when Kurt Spak decided to close his Piedmont-comes-to-PDX Alba Osteria in the Hillsdale neighborhood. Unfortunately, as of this week he's also closed his Caffé Autogrill next door where you could still pick up some of his justly-famous handmade and hand-filled pastas by the pound. Word just came out that a lease and liquor license have been filed for Alba's former space by local whiskey expert Stuart Ramsay. As reported by Andy Wheeler in the Hillsdale News, Scotland native Ramsay plans to open Ramsay's Dram, a gastropub with "a stellar local beer portfolio and world whiskey selection." Stay tuned!

Details: Ramsay's Dram (proposed), 6440 SW Capitol Hwy.

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A new effort by the USDA, called Chefs Move to Schools, is working in conjunction with Michelle Obama's Let's Move campaign to get chefs involved with local students. The program now has a celebrity booster in Genoa's David Anderson (right). He spent last year working the students at Lewis Elementary School in Portland, giving hands-on lessons in taking produce picked in the garden and turning it into meals that any kid would love. Noting that some kids had never seen a pea pod on the vine, he said he loves to "watch those kids eyes light up." He and his brother, Chef Ray Anderson of Nuestra Cocina, are looking for other local chefs to sign up and adopt schools for the 2011-2012 school year.

Details: Chefs Move to Schools. Contact Sarah Medeiros by e-mail at Share Our Strength or call Tim Parsons, 503-866-1822 for information.

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In Portland, pigs are as popular as backyard chickens, and seemingly as ubiquitous. While, unlike chickens, they're not (yet) allowed in back yards unless contained on a grill or spitted on a rotisserie over a bed of hot coals, pigs and their requisite parts are popping up like early spring daffodils on class lists all over the city:

• Whole Hog Butchery Class: Josh Graves and Eli Cairo teach the basics of breaking down and cutting, tying and processing a whole animal. Includes bag full of fresh, local pork. Sun., Mar. 6, 2pm; $125, 18 students, reservations required. Olympic Provisions, 107 SE Washington St. 503-954-3663.
• Basic Pig Butchery for Home Charcuterie: Gabriel Claycamp teaches how to butcher a pig to utilize all the muscle groups to produce cured pork specialties. Includes a share of meat and recipes. Sat., Mar. 12, 1-5 pm; $225, 12 students, reservations required. E-mail Portland Meat Collective to register.
• French Seam Butchery: Dominique Chapolard and Camas Davis teach how to transform a pig into premium French cuts using seam butchery, a traditional European method of breaking down animals according to their muscle seams. Includes charcuterie tasting and butchered meats. Wed., Mar. 16, 1-5 pm; $225, 12 students, reservations required. E-mail Portland Meat Collective to register.

Refreshing Reincarnation

re·in·car·na·tion 1 a) the action of reincarnating; the state of being reincarnated. b) rebirth in new bodies or forms of life; especially: a rebirth of a soul in a new human body. 
2) a fresh embodiment.

When I heard that last year that Genoa was closing, it frankly didn't surprise me. It seemed like every few months there'd been an announcement of a new chef or, worse, a team of chefs, at what was once considered Portland's premier high-end Italian restaurant. Its seven-course meal was so expensive that no one I knew had been there in many years. Plus with the competition from the exploding eastside dining scene, it seemed as though Genoa had become a dinosaur stuck in a tar pit.

Crab bruschetta.
When the news broke that it had been bought by a local couple who'd loved the old place and wanted to revive it, my first thought was a sarcastic, "Good luck." A few weeks later they made the startling choice to hire the very talented but very young David Anderson, chef and David Machado protégé from Vindalho, one of the early and successful upstarts on lower Division. (Full disclosure: I interviewed David and his twin brother, Ray, for an article a couple of years earlier, and it was David who'd given me the scoop that he'd been hired for the position at Genoa.)

So when an invitation came from the restaurant's PR firm to try out the new menu on their dime, I was all in. As I've said before, these freebies bother me on one level, but I always make it clear to them that buying me dinner doesn't buy a good write-up. That said, it's also obvious that they know I plan to write about the experience, so they may go the extra mile (or fill the extra glass), so that my treatment might differ from that of the average diner.

Wild mushroom fettucine.

But if the experience we (Dave, my brother and myself) had is any indicator of what's in store for Mr. or Ms. A.D., this place is going to be a serious competitor for Portland's dining dollars. Especially with its new price point of $55 for five courses, and with the support of its sister restaurant next door, the wine-and-small-plates Accanto.

The new facade.

The face of the place has not been lifted so much as completely reborn. The structure of the old building was rumored to be so rickety as to be unsafe and major infrastructure changes had to be made, which allowed the entire space to be reconfigured. While the kitchen still wraps around the restaurant, the side door is now open to the street so passersby can watch the chefs preparing meals. Chef Anderson also said he likes being able to see diners exiting the restaurant and gauge their reactions to the meal. The former private dining room accessed through that side door is now part of the main dining room but can be closed off by a couple of heavy refectory doors salvaged from a historic building. The room also has a big screen TV for meetings, but Anderson is more excited about the potential Super Bowl parties that could be held there (talk about a change of tone…).

The interior will be completely unrecognizable to past diners, with the spacious front windows making the dining area visible from the street (rather than blacked out as it had been before), slightly screened from passersby and arriving customers by sheer, floor-to-ceiling draperies that create a narrow waiting area. Once inside, the dining room itself is dominated by a fireplace that spills warmth from its gas flames, and an atmosphere unlike any other restaurant in town, a cozy yet elegant sitting room of golds and greens, banquettes and linen-covered tables. From a distance the several hanging light fixtures made of cascades of gold-colored glass rectangles seemed like they belonged in a 50s-era hotel, but once seated they give an overall warmth and glow to the room.

The salad.

The meal began with an amuse-bouche of shredded endive and white truffle oil served on large spoons, one for each of us. We had chosen to have wine flights paired with each course so my brother, the wine guy, could check out their cellar. The first course, a crab bruschetta, came with a French sauvignon blanc that was one of my favorite wines of the whole meal, with its brightness and slightly spicy nose bringing out the super fresh and lightly dressed crab.

Black cod with mussels.

For the second course I chose the wild mushroom fettucine while the guys had the tortelli filled with duck confit, mushrooms and prosciutto in a Marsala sauce. Both were good, the tortelli having a nice richness but slightly bland flavor. The fettucine, however, was outstanding, with a mix of wild and cultivated mushrooms providing an earthy, chewy base to the dish and a rich coating of madeira, herbs and cream smoothing it all out. An '07 Felsina Chianti was served with this course, and since all of us pretty much love all of Felsina's wines, there was no nitpicking of this pairing.

Panna cotta.

The salad course was…well…a salad, with sectioned blood oranges and shaved fennel for heft and pomegranate seeds adding crunch. The wine, an '05 Arneis, though, wasn't a good match. This wine is usually served at a much younger age, and this was the equivalent of having a cranky old aunt at the table, making the salad course (which is supposed to be a break in the parade of richer dishes) a spiky and rather unpleasant interlude.

The main course, though, put that behind us. My Cattail Creek lamb riblets were outstanding, served with a dollop of whipped sweet potato that our very funny waiter said "was like eating a cloud." And unlike the previous incarnation of the restaurant, I felt completely comfortable picking them up by their "handles" and chomping away. Dave's black cod fillet with mussels in a saffron broth was perfectly moist and deeply flavorful, and the smear of aioli with crusty toasted bread slices were a nice nod to the human impulse to dunk. The wine, a Mastroberardino Aglianico, couldn't have been more appropriate…or more appreciated!

Chocolate and hazelnut Cimabue.

The desserts, which at all too many Portland restaurants are an obligatory afterthought rather than being an element as important as the other courses, were wonderful. The panna cotta was a pyramid of creamy silkiness showered with crushed pistachios next to a crispy wafer holding tiny grapefruit sections. The chocolate and hazelnut Cimabue was, to paraphrase our waiter's comment about the sweet potato, like eating a chocolate cloud with chocolate flakes and little chunks of hazelnut swirling in the layers of meringue and Chantilly cream.

Overall it was a truly incredible meal, one of the best I've had recently, though I'd love it if they'd have a three-course option or allow à la carte ordering so we could go there more often, but I suppose that's what Accanto is about. It's a great deal for the (admittedly) special-occasion price, and the wine list has many terrific deals on it. One hint: make sure to have your favorite wine guy on standby to help you choose one. Thank goodness mine usually picks up even when the caller ID says it's me!

Details: Genoa, 2832 SE Belmont St. Phone 503-238-1464.

Check out my brother's impressions of our meal in this blog post.

The Dishes: Let's Make a Deal and a Classic Returns?

Genoa, the progenitor of Portland's rise to hotness as a food mecca, has been sold after much rending of robes and gnashing of teeth over its closing a few months ago. The new owners are beginning the process of engaging in a discussion with the community, as they say, "in an effort to re-open the restaurant in a meaningful and sustainable way."

If you'd like me to pass on your thoughts on the subject, simply click on the comments link below.

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What do clarklewis, Bluehour, 23Hoyt, and Saucebox have in common?

Yes, they're three of Portland's best restaurants, with tabs for dinner that can run well over $100 for two. But now they're also offering three courses for $25, a sure sign that there's been a cooling (if not an outright freeze) in restaurant spending.

And now Castagna is jumping into the fray with a series of Thursday Night Flights featuring "an exploration of three wines from small wine producers in lesser known wine regions around the world." Each wine will be paired with a specific dish, and will also be available a la carte. The four-course dinner runs $30 with the wine pairings an additional $15 for three three-oz. pours. The schedule looks like this:

• Mar. 19: Austria. Bouillon with nettle dumplings; chanterelle and mâche salad; rouladen with rotkraut and spaetzle; linzertorte
• Mar. 26: Trentino. Minestre d’orzo (barley-salsify soup); house-cured speck with mâche; grilled lamb and lamb sausage with buckwheat polenta; fritelle di mele (apple fritters with vanilla ice cream)
• April 2: Alto Adige. Potato Leek soup with schuttelbrot; smoked trout with mâche salad; peppered pork loin with braised cabbage; pistachio semi-freddo

Details: Thursday Night Flights at Castagna. 4 courses, $30; wine pairings add $15. 1752 SE Hawthorne Blvd. Phone 503-231-7373.