Fermentation Fascination: DIY Hot Sauce

I had this whole plan, see? I'd been searching without success for the thick-skinned, thick-walled, fleshy espelette peppers like the ones I found four years ago from Viridian Farms—which is unfortunately no longer in existence—and used to such great effect to make some kick-ass, fruity, smoky harissa. In the intervening years I'd tried espelette peppers from various area farms, but the fruit, while it had the requisite thick skin, was uniformly thin-fleshed. When roasted, the flesh stuck to the skins like glue, making peeling arduous and not worth it in terms of resulting volume.

This year I was determined to try again to find those perfect peppers and purchased peppers from two more farms. Again, sad trombones.

Harissa.

With the first couple of pounds I managed to make a very small batch of harissa, but the next two pounds were just not going to be worth the work. Not wanting to waste their fruity, biting heat, I was casting about for good uses. Most suggestions were to dry and grind them to a powder, but then I ran across farmer and author Josh Volk's Instagram photo of chopped peppers that he'd fermented in a 3.5 percent salt mixture.

Bubbling away.

Aha!

A little back-and-forth with Josh led me to chop the two pounds of peppers in the food processor, add the salt, pack them in a Mason jar, set the jar in a dish in the basement, then put a zip-lock bag of water inside the jar like a pickling weight, which allows it to breathe (and overflow if necessary). Putting a lid on isn't necessary, but if you do, make sure it isn't screwed on tight—it needs to breathe!

After four days I saw bubbles and a little puddle underneath the jar, which indicated that fermentation was, indeed, occurring, so I left it for a few more days. Recipes say you can allow it to ferment for as long as a month, but being the impatient person I am, I gave it a week before bringing it upstairs to whiz in the blender, adding water to thin it to a sauce-like consistency.

Sour (i.e. pickled) corn.

The result? Well, we used it as a hot sauce on pork tacos along with some of Hank Shaw's sour corn that I'd made earlier and we thought it was great. But the real test came when I gave some to my neighbor Ivy Manning,  a hot sauce aficionado as well as author of countless authoritative cookbooks, for her expert opinion. Her reaction? "Can you just pour some out on the counter so I can roll in it?"

'Nuff said.

Calçots: Grilled Spanish Spring Onions

It all started with those little, bright green lantern-shaped peppers call pimientos de padron—more familiarly known simply as "padrons"—that only required a quick blistering in hot oil and shower of salt to melt my knees as soon as I popped one in my mouth. For awhile they were only available from Manuel Recio and Leslie Lukas-Recio's Viridian Farms stand at the Portland Farmers Market, but pretty soon they were being featured on the hottest chef's menus all over town.

A couple of years later I heard about another Spanish delicacy that had appeared on Viridian's roster, a giant spring onion called calçots (pron. cahl-SOH). In Spain they're harvested from November through April, and festivals known as calçotadas are held in towns all over the region.

Cooked on a hot grill until the outside layer is blackened but not charred and the inside is soft and creamy, the outside layer is peeled off and dunked in a tangy romesco-like sauce called salbitxada (sahl-beet-SHAH-dah). Then, holding the onion aloft by the greens, the trick is to lower the soft, saucy white part into your mouth and bite it off without having the sauce dribble all over your face. (This video explains it better than I ever could.)

With calçot season upon us—you can get them right now at Manuel and Leslie's new retail outlet, Conserva—we finally held our own mini-calçotada on the patio. Traditionally served with beer and a variety of grilled meats, for our home version of a calçotada Dave quickly grilled bone-in pork chops and I made an herbed rice pilaf with chopped tarragon, red-veined sorrel and parsley from the garden…though the drips on our shirts signaled that we may need some more practice on the eating portion of this spring festival.

Calçots with Salbitxada Sauce

For the salbitxada sauce:
4 Tbsp. blanched almonds
4 fresh bitxo peppers (or other mildly hot pepper)
8 cloves garlic
4 ripe tomatoes
2 Tbsp. chopped parsley
1/4 c. bread crumbs
1 Tbsp. smoked paprika
2 Tbsp. red wine vinegar
1 c. olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste

For the grilled calçots:
2-3 bunches (20-30) Spanish calçots or very young spring onions with long greens (when the bulb is very small)

Heat oven to 350°. Place almonds in hot oven to toast for 5-7 minutes. Place in a food processor and coarsely grind. Roughly chop the tomatoes, removing the seeds. Coarsely chop the peppers, removing the seeds and membranes. Peel and chop the garlic. Mash ground almonds, peppers and garlic into a paste with a food processor. Add tomatoes, parsley and vinegar. Pulsing the food processor, drizzle in the olive oil until sauce becomes thick. Add salt and pepper to taste. Serve with grilled “calcots” (spring onions) or any other grilled vegetable. During summer months, consider serving this fresh sauce with grilled steaks or chops.

To prepare the calçots, simple build a hot fire in a grill. On the grate over the coals, spread out the calçots with the white end facing the center of the grill and the greens extending over the outside edge of the grill (top photo). Grill, turning occasionally, so the outside is blackened but not charred and the whites feel tender when squeezed.

To serve, pull the calçots off the grill and peel off the outer skin with your fingers. Grasping the greens in your hand, dunk the white part in the salbitxada sauce, raise the onion aloft and lower the white into your mouth, biting it off at the top of the white portion. When the calçots are all gone, whomever has the least sauce (or, I suppose, the most) on their person is the winner.

Breakfast for Dinner: Craving Spring Things

Let's face it: Spring is all about sex. Call it reproduction, fertility or, to use Anthony Boutard's favorite word, fecundity, nature is having a field day making more of itself. Hens start laying eggs again, little green things (weeds included) are popping out of the bare earth and farmers are finally able to get out in their fields to plant crops, muddy and clumpy though those fields may be.

Chorizo and spring vegetables…yum!

I've been longing for spring things lately, especially after a winter diet of root vegetables and winter greens, and my freezer is looking mighty empty since we've cleaned out most of the roasted tomatoes, lamb, pork and beef I crammed into it last fall. Luckily the farmers' market season is roaring back to life now, so it's easy to satisfy my craving for these first sweet sproutings.

Homemade sourdough cubes, natch!

With that in mind, a recent article by David Tanis in the Dining section of the New York Times about a Spanish dish of eggs and spring vegetables piqued my interest. Called revueltos or huevos revueltos, it basically means scrambled eggs and usually includes vegetables of one sort or another. Often found at tapas bars or served as a light supper dish—my fondness for these "breakfast for dinner" dishes is longstanding—the one that Tanis shared featured asparagus and bread cubes toasted in olive oil and garlic.

I happened to have picked up a couple of bunches of asparagus at the mid-week Shemanski market from Leslie at Viridian Farms, and had about half a bunch of green garlic left over from an earlier trip. Dinner was still an open question and I'd just replenished the egg supply, so I decided to follow the seeming synchronicity and give the dish a whirl.

Needless to say, and anyone who's made a frittata, quiche or even an omelet can attest, it was simple, quick and delicious. Perfect for a spring supper!

Revueltos (Scrambled Eggs) with Green Garlic and Asparagus

Adapted from David Tanis

Olive oil

2 peeled garlic cloves

2 c. dried bread cubes, cut in 1/2" cubes

3 oz. diced Spanish chorizo*

1 bunch asparagus, about 1 1/2 lbs., sliced in 1" lengths

1/2 bunch green garlic, sliced in 1" lengths

8 large eggs, beaten

1/2 tsp. Spanish pimentón (smoked paprika)

Salt to taste

Heat 3 tablespoons olive oil in a large non-stick skillet (or well-seasoned cast iron pan) over medium-high heat. Add peeled garlic cloves and let them sizzle until lightly browned, then remove. Add bread cubes, lower heat to medium and gently fry until lightly browned and crisp, about 2 minutes. Remove bread and set aside to cool.

Add chorizo and fry lightly. Add asparagus and green garlic and stir-fry until cooked through but firm, 3 to 4 minutes. 

Reduce heat to low. Add pimentón to eggs. Pour eggs into skillet with vegetables and cook, stirring with a wooden spoon, just until soft and creamy, 2 to 3 minutes. Top with bread cubes and serve in the skillet, or transfer eggs to large serving bowl, topping with bread cubes, and serve immediately.

This would also make a great breakfast or brunch dish.

* I used my friend Paul Bertolli's Fra'Mani Chorizo Pork Sausage.

Food Farmer Earth: A Basque Pepper Primer

In this interview for Food Farmer Earth, I get the deets on the dizzying array of Basque peppers that Manuel Recio grows at Viridian Farms in Grand Island. He and his wife, Leslie Lukas-Recio, sell many of these mostly sweet members of the capsicum family at their stall at the Portland Farmers' Market at PSU, but you can also find them on the menus of A-list restaurants around the country.

Watch the first part of this interview, A Passion for Peppers. This week's recipe is for easy homemade tamales. You can get regular updates on this series about our local food scene by subscribing.

Food Farmer Earth: A Passion for Peppers

There are many farmers in the Northwest who are, intentionally or not, building an incredible new agricultural system here, one that is starting to garner rave notices from around the country for its quality and innovation. One farm in particular that has bowled me over for just those reasons has been Viridian Farms in tiny Grand Island. Here is my interview with co-owner Manuel Recio for Food Farmer Earth.

When Manuel Recio and his wife, Leslie Lukas-Recio, had the sudden opportunity to buy her family’s farm on Grand Island in Oregon, they saw it as an opportunity to work for themselves as well as a way to include their love of food and the culture of Spain.

Fortunately for them, no one else in the area was growing the special peppers, beans and other vegetables used in Spanish cuisine, so they tore out farm’s old berry bushes and called their new venture Viridian Farms. Planting the seeds they’d brought back from Spain, that first harvest they started selling their produce at the farmers’ market.

Their market goods got the attention of the city’s chefs, who haunted the market’s stalls for new and different ingredients to feature on their menus. Word eventually leaked out about some of the extraordinary produce grown on the farm like ficoide glaciale (glacier lettuce) and oyster lettuce—it actually tastes like oysters—and they now count nationally known chefs from California to New York among their customers.

Read the rest of the story here. Get regular updates on this series about our local food scene by subscribing. This week's recipe is for easy homemade tamales.

In Season NW: Calçots From Viridian Farms

A specialty of the Spanish region of Catalonia, calçots (pron. cahl-SOH) are a variety of giant scallion known as Blanca Grande Tardana. In Spain they are harvested from November through April, and festivals known as calçotadas are held in towns all over the region.

They are grilled over a hot fire, with the green tops laying outside the grill until the outer layer of the bulb is blackened. Then the calçot is lifted by the (cooler) greens, the charred outer layer is stripped off and the white is dipped into a bowl of a romesco-like sauce known as salbitxada (pron. sahl-beet-CHADA). The whole onion is then lifted into the air and the creamy inner parts are dropped into your mouth.

Here in Portland, you can find these traditional tapas treats under the Viridian Farms tent  at the Portland Farmers' Market at PSU on Saturdays. If they sell out, or if you somehow miss the season, you can use larger green onions cooked over your backyard grill, dipped into the traditional sauce below. To get in the mood for hosting your own calçotada, watch this temptingly luscious video.

Sabitxada Sauce for Calçots

4 Tbsp. blanched almonds
4 fresh bitxo peppers (or other mildly hot pepper)
8 cloves garlic
4 ripe tomatoes
2 Tbsp. chopped parsley
2 Tbsp. red wine vinegar
1 c. olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste

Makes 2 1/2 cups or 4-6 servings.

Heat oven to 350°. Place almonds in hot oven to toast for 5-7 minutes. Place in a food processor or mortar and pestle and coarsely grind. Peel and dice tomatoes and set aside. Coarsely chop the peppers, removing the seeds and membranes. Peel and chop the garlic. Mash ground almonds, peppers and garlic into a paste using a mortar and pestle or food processor. Mix in tomatoes, parsley and vinegar. Pulsing the food processor, drizzle in the olive oil until sauce becomes thick. Add salt and pepper to taste. Serve with grilled “calcots” (green onions) or any other grilled vegetable. During summer months, consider serving this fresh sauce with grilled steaks.

A is for Aceto Balsamico

For those of us who wonder why in the world anyone would pay what seems like an outrageous price for some fancy Italian balsamic vinegar when there are plenty of cheaper options available on store shelves, contributor Jim Dixon of RealGoodFood provides an explanation proving, once again, that you get what you pay for.

Among the many amazing things we did during our month in Italy was meeting Laura and Deeana, the two women who operate Profumi Estensi, my balsamic vinegar supplier (and a special thanks Leslie and Manual from Viridian for the connecting us). While we’d emailed for a few years, this was our first face-to-face, and both Judith and I felt it was a high point of the trip.

Not only did we really, really like Laura and Deanna (and their families, who fed us and showed us Modena), but we came away with a much better understanding of the amount of hard work, deep-seated knowledge, and just plain magic that goes into aceto balsamico.

Most of what’s sold as balsamic vinegar is just red wine vinegar sweetened with caramelized sugar and has no relation to the real stuff. But it’s cheap to make and generates nice profit margins for manufacturers willing to capitalize on gullible shoppers.

Real balsamic vinegar begins with the freshly pressed juice of Trebbiano grapes. The juice or must is cooked down to about 30% of its original volume, then it begins the slow fermentation process in a set of barrels made from different woods called a batteria (photos, top and left). Each year, if the vinegar maker thinks it’s good enough, some of the vinegar from the last barrel in the batteria is removed. That barrel is topped up from the next oldest, and the process moves up the line with some of the newly reduced must going into the first barrel. A batteria may only yield a few liters of vinegar every year.

Profumi Estensi works with vinegar makers who produce balsamico on a very small scale, primarily for their family and friends. They’re willing to sell a little to offset their costs, which can reach hundreds of euros every year. We visited one and climbed the steep ladder up into the attic to see the acetaia (ah-che-taya or vinegar works). Hunched under the low ceiling, Judith and I followed Sergio as he flipped back the cloth squares covering the evaporation holes on the tops of the barrels, dipping spoons into the thick balsamico.

Only a handful of people ever get to see a family acetaia, and we felt incredibly privileged. Sergio inherited some of his barrels from his father, and he grew up learning how to mix vinegar from the different barrels in the batteria to get the complex flavor of true aceto balsamico. Watching him move among the barrels and seeing his eyes light up as he talked about the vinegar, we both wondered how he could bear to part with a single drop.

Roasted Zucca with Balsamico

Laura and Deeana served us this in Modena. The simple squash highlights the balsamico, and the vinegar transforms the humble vegetable. Use one of the larger, pumpkin-like winter squash; they’re a bit dryer than butternut, delicata, or acorn.

Cut the squash into slices about one inch thick; leave the peel attached. Arrange on a sheet pan that’s been drizzled with a bit of extra virgin olive oil, sprinkle with a bit of flor de sal, and roast at 350° for about 30 minutes or until the squash is tender.

Let each diner dribble a few drops of balsamic on their plate. Gently daub each bite of squash in the vinegar and eat. Or if you’re feeling flush, drizzle each slice with balsamic before serving.

All photos by Jim Dixon from his travelogue, Italia Redux.

In Season NW: Mushrooms, Markets, Mergers

Local chefs went wild when Viridian Farms debuted their padron peppers and again when Olympic Provisions brought out their take on Spanish chorizo. And it looks like it's happening again with the pioppino or black poplar mushrooms that Roger Konka and Norma Cravens are cultivating at Springwater Farm. Always quick with a quip, Roger's dubbed it "the poor man's porcini," which trips off the tongue much more easily than its Latin name, Agrocybe aegerita.

Details: Pioppino mushrooms from Springwater Farm. Available at Portland Farmers' Market at PSU, Hillsdale Farmers' Market, Lake Oswego Farmers' Market and Westmoreland Farmers' Market. Links, hours and maps on the Oregon Farmers' Markets page.

* * *

Instant hits are usually reserved for the latest pop culture phenomenon. But PDX-ers, in their lust for ever-more-local food sources, jumped on Chef Noe Garnica's Verde Cocina almost as soon as it debuted at area farmers' markets. Now it looks like the family business is going all bricks and mortar with a retail outlet in Hillsdale at the location recently vacated by Kurt Spak's blink-and-it's-gone Caffe Autogrill. Look for the fresh Mexican fare you've come to love like fajitas, chilaquiles and tacos made with local meats and seasonal vegetables, plus new menu items courtesy of expanded kitchen capabilities. And in the space next door vacated by Spak's Alba Osteria, rumored tenant Ramsay's Dram vanished without a trace to be replaced by Sasquatch Brewing, a new 7-barrel brewpub started by Portland native Tom Sims. Mexican food and beer? Sounds like a pairing made in heaven!

Details: Verde Cocina, 6440 SW Capitol Hwy. 503-750-2722.

* * *

Big news broke this week from Hollywood…no, not Tinseltown, but the Hollywood neighborhood's eponymous farmers' market…that they are taking over the smaller but vital Lloyd Farmers' Market. It began began in 2007 as part of a grant to promote active living and healthy worksites and was managed by Eamon Molloy, market manager at the innovative Hillsdale Farmers' Market. "Hollywood has the experience to further the growth and success of the Lloyd Farmers Market. Adding debit and EBT services [will be] a big plus to this market," said Molloy. Location and hours remain the same, and Lloyd will continue to serve office workers and neighborhood residents as well as giving the Hollywood Farmers' Market a mid-week presence. Hollywood also announced it will officially be going year-round on first and third Saturdays from December through April, fulfilling neighbors' requests and its vendors efforts to develop "cutting edge season extension techniques," according to market manager Sarah Broderick.

Details: Lloyd Farmers' Market. Open Tuesdays, 10 am-2 pm year-round; Thursdays, 10 am-2 pm, June-Sept. In the Oregon Square Courtyard on NE Holladay Street between 7th and 9th Aves.

Talk About Baby Corn!

From the folks at Viridian Farms, those insidious farmers who got us addicted to pimientos de padron, comes the next sensation in Portland dining: I give you…corn shoots!

I saw these little yellow flower-like shoots sitting oh-so-innocently on the side table at Viridian's Portland Farmers' Market booth last Saturday and, having no compunctions about proclaiming my ignorance in public, asked what the heck they were. The young woman tending the booth said, "They're corn shoots. Try one!"

I popped one in my mouth, munched down and got an immediate bitter flavor that was quickly followed by a flood of full-on corny sweetness. They're $4 for a little container, but these are going to be a huge hit on some restaurant appetizer plates or, if you get to them before local chefs do (I mean you, Anthony!), sprinkled on a salad at your next dinner party.

Market Report: They're Here! They're Here!

Word rocketed out of the Portland Farmers' Market at PSU last Saturday that pimentos de padron were spotted at the Viridian Farms booth. Within the hour there were meetings in Situation Rooms all over the city and strategies of attack were being devised for dinner parties and menus for the rest of the month.

Why the fuss over some little wrinkled green peppers? Well, my friend, these peppers, when fried in olive oil and served warm with a sprinkling of salt, are just about the perfect appetizer for end-of-summer dining. No utensils are required since the little stem provides a handle, and the whole pepper is small enough to pop in your mouth and consume in one bite.

There's even a thrill factor, since, while most of these tiny delights have a mild, sweet character, every once in awhile one will pack a frisson of heat that explodes like a capsaicin IED. Exciting!

Details: Viridian Farms appears at the Portland Farmers' Market at PSU on Saturdays from 8:30 am-2 pm and on Wednesdays at Shemanski  Park between SW Salmon & Main from 10 am-2 pm.

* * *

And speaking of the Portland Farmers' Market, executive director Ann Forsthoefel has announced her resignation after two years at the helm. And no, political intrigue was not involved…her husband took a new job at a company in Missoula, Montana, and that's what has prompted the change. With the successful expansion of the PSU market and the start-up of the King market last year and two new markets this year at Pioneer Courthouse Square (Mondays) and in Northwest Portland at 23rd and Savier (Thursdays), attention shifts to possible candidates to take her position. And with attendance up by double digits, it's a key part of Portland's strategy to bring residents to, and to keep tourists spending money in, the downtown core, much rides on someone who can surf the political waves and balance the needs of vendors and the food community. Not an easy task!

Growing Pains at Portland Farmers' Market?

With more than 40 farmers' markets in the Portland metro area and more in almost every community statewide, Oregon has become a national model for establishing a direct linkage from farm to table. A recent report found that farmers' markets have had a collective impact on the region's economy of more than $17 million.

The Portland Farmers' Market, while announcing the closure of its Ecotrust location at the end of last season, is opening two new markets this year, one downtown in Pioneer Courthouse Square and another in NW at 23rd and Savier. It's also increasing its footprint on Saturdays at the market at PSU, spreading out to include the block directly south and relocating vendors to the perimeter, opening the area in the center for music, picnicking and just plain hanging out.

Doubling their space will only add 25 more stalls for a total of 120 separate vendors, the point of the expansion being to decrease the crush created by too many people crammed into too little space. As might be expected with an effort this ambitious, however, rumors have been flying about who's in and who's out and reports of some bumps in the road on the way to opening day.

As was reported on Eater.com, Morgan Brownlow's Tails & Trotters will be a vendor at the PSU market after all, after an initial report that they would not be included in the new mix. Executive Director Ann Forsthoefel said that Brownlow's hazelnut-finished pork will be filling in for the first part of the season until one of their other vendor's pigs are ready.

Forsthoefel was surprised to hear that Viridian Farms, the go-to vendor for the latest and greatest produce in the area, including their orgasmic pimientos de padron and the "it" greens of last year, the succulent known as glacier lettuce, was rumored to have been summarily downsized. On the contrary, she said, they were given more space in a coveted corner location. There was also some talk that the decision on which vendors would be included in the new markets opening this year had been delayed, but Forsthoefel said that only about 10 vendors at each of those markets were still undecided. She said that the focus right now is on getting the PSU market season launched, and that after it opens a final decision would be made on unfilled slots.

She added that they just found out this week that the construction on the south end of the new block, which was supposed to have been completed by mid-summer, was at least eight weeks behind schedule. It has meant that the layout of the new space, as well as access points for load-in and load-out, has had to be reconfigured, but that all will be in place and ready to go by opening day. Check the website for a schematic of the new layout of the market, with an interactive map of vendor locations to follow in the near future.

You can count on finding the market opening its eighteenth season on Mar. 20 at PSU, methinks with even more anticipation than usual.

Details: Portland Farmers' Market, Saturdays starting on Mar. 20 at Portland State University in the South Park Blocks between SW Hall & SW Montgomery.

Beat It!

It just goes to show you that the big guys are sometimes the last ones to catch on. I was skimming today's New York Times Dining section and saw a familiar-looking plant, one that was being trumpeted as the latest "exotic favorite of (New York) chefs."

Kevin Gibson's glacier lettuce with peaches and prosciutto.

Huh? Was that glacier lettuce they were getting all gotta-have-it about? I wrote a post about the succulent they're calling ficoïde glaciale, oh, let's see, a year ago when Kevin Gibson of Evoe served it as a salad with peaches and prosciutto. Grown by of-the-moment Viridian Farms right here in Oregon, who also grow the positively addictive pimientos de padron, it's apparently finally made the 3,000-mile trek across the country to the lofty tables of the Big Apple.

By the way, they recommend discarding the heaviest stems and tossing it with sweet grape tomatoes, halved, and shrimp or scallops in a light vinaigrette, or adding it to a seafood salad. Whatever. Just as long as they know we had it here first.

Top photo by G. Paul Burnett for The New York Times.

The Bar at the Market

A friend went to one of my favorite restaurants, indeed, one of Portland's best, and was not pleased with the food or the prices. She felt that for what they got and the money they spent, she would have been able to go to her favorite burrito cart ten times and been much happier with the food. And she's sworn she'll never go back again.

Evan Zimmerman, barmeister extraordinaire.

Now, barring a ridiculously bad experience, I'll always give a restaurant another try. And particularly since starting this blog, I almost feel an obligation to go more than once, if possible, in the name of fairness and to get a chance to sample as much of the menu as possible. So when a (different) friend wanted to meet for a drink at Laurelhurst Market, I couldn't wait to go.

The Badminton Cup.

You see, we'd had a spectacular meal there right after they opened, swooning over the 12-hour brisket and the beef shoulder with romesco. But our drinks were so-so that first night, not up to the raves I'd heard about the talents of head bartender Evan Zimmerman. So it seemed a second trip was in order, just to be fair, don't you think?

Those addictive fritters.

We walked in and opted for a seat at the long bar along one end of the restaurant with a view out over the patio on one side and sheltered from the din of the dining room by a partial wall on the other side. It was just after they opened for the evening and fairly quiet, so we quickly ordered our drinks and first round of apps from Mr. Zimmerman and settled in.

The drinks came, and they were stunning. Perfect for this end-of-summer evening, one a Lime Gin Rickey, the other a lovely concoction called the Badminton Cup consisting of gin, mint (thus the name), lime and a hint of cucumber. The salt cod fritters, a must-have on this menu, followed fast on the heels of our cocktails and were, if anything, better than on my first trip (and they were terrific then). This time they were crispier on the outside and creamier on the inside, and the aioli had just the right balance of garlic to be punchy without overwhelming.

Pimientos de padron.

The pimientos de padron, the type grown by Viridian Farms, are available now (until the first frost) and are something I dream about the rest of the year. They were seared in a smidge of olive oil, then mixed with sungold cherry tomatoes and mint and sprinkled with crunchy salt crystals. After switching to beer (they have a wonderful selection of six on tap) for me and rosé for my partner, we ordered two more substantial small plates, the sweetbreads with chanterelles and the gnocchi with lobster mushrooms.

Sweetbreads with chanterelles.

Very clean and tasting slightly like pork, the sweetbreads were light and meaty and laid on top of a mound of chanterelles, teeny baby artichokes and black olives. With a lovely reduction of pan juices, they were divine.

Gnocchi is, as I've said before, always a question mark for me. And chefs these days seem to be fond of searing them so they develop a crust on the outside, which, while they taste good, just don't give me the satisfaction of biting into the little pillows of happiness that I crave in this dish. Fortunately, these were very satisfying in a way that made my eyes close in dreamy delight. For real. And the substantial texture of the lobster mushrooms and the pop of kernels of sweet corn, all in a creamy bath of flavor, is a memory I'll be savoring for a long, long time.

We ended with a quick glass of Carpano Antica, an amber-colored vermouth, over ice with a wedge of orange peel and a bit of Dolin Blanc, a slightly sweet clear vermouth. Chatting with Evan about these caused him to pour us a taste of his favorite after-work libation, Fernet-Branca (right), which he described as tasting like myrrh and mint. Like the restaurant itself, I could see it growing on me with repeated applications.

Photos by Kim Ferris.

Details: Laurelhurst Market, 3155 E Burnside. Phone 503-206-3097.

In Season NW: Peas, Please!

We're lucky here in Portland that many of our restaurants get their produce from the same local farmers who are found at our farmers' markets, making it easy to duplicate a dish you've swooned over. Contributor Jim Dixon of RealGoodFood did just that recently.

I ate sugar snap peas with mint and piment d’espelette at Laurelhurst Market last week, so when I saw the peas at the Viridian Farms stand at the Portland Farmers Market Saturday, I grabbed a few a pints (Viridian also grows and dries the Basque peppers, and I had vial of the mild red chile in my kitchen already). Since I was already in the middle of a vegetable grillfest, I cooked the pea pods over the coals using a wok-like grill pan. And while I was picking the mint, I added a few leaves of the lemon verbena growing nearby.

Sugar Snap Peas with Mint, Lemon Verbena, and Piment d’Espelette

Make a salsa verde by finely chopping about a cup of fresh mint leaves with a 5-6 leaves of lemon verbena and a large shallot. Add about a quarter cup of extra virgin olive oil (I used the Katz Meyer Lemon olive oil) and a half teaspoon or so of piment d’espelette.

Trim the stem ends of the sugar snap peas. Before grilling, toss with a drizzle of oil, then cook in the grill basket over direct heat for about 5 minutes, stirring often. If you're cooking on the stovetop, sauté in olive oil for a few minutes, or drop into boiling salted water. However you cook them, do it quickly.

Toss the pea pods with the salsa verde and serve immediately.

In Season: Pimientos de Padron

I was walking by the Viridian Farms stall at the Portland Farmers' Market when I saw them. Those little brown boxes filled to the brim with my favorite snack food of all time, Pimientos de Padron, begging to be sautéed in a little olive oil till they blister and then tossed onto a platter and sprinkled with salt. Pick them up by their sturdy stems, pop them in your mouth...so delicious, so delightful!

Details: Pimientos de Padron. Available at the Viridian Farms stand at the Portland Farmers' Market at PSU Saturdays from 8:30 am till 2 pm, and at the South Park Blocks market on Wednesdays from 10 am until 2 pm.