Guest Essay: A Grain of Wheat

There's the old saw that the best way to teach kids to swim is to toss them into the deep end of the pool. While I may not agree with that theory (Hello…Red Cross swimming lessons???), the idea of learning by doing is a good one. So when my friend, hunter, forager and author Hank Shaw, found wheat growing in his yard, he decided to see what it took to grow, harvest, thresh, winnow and grind his own flour.

“I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” - John 12:24

How little we consider the grains that sustain us.

Tiny seeds that contain within them the power to change humanity, and by so doing render themselves almost invisible in their ubiquity. By the time The Gospel of John was written, somewhere around 70 AD, wheat, rice, barley, rye, millet, and, here in the Western Hemisphere, corn, had already dictated our existence for eight millennia.

Grain, or more accurately dependence on grain, is what separated farmers from foragers, Jacob from Esau. Grains underpin civilization: portable, easily renewable, nutritionally dense foods that can be grown in surplus and stored—or kept from those the holder deems unworthy.

Every culture that tamed a grain, although it could easily be argued that the grains tamed us, has held that grain sacred. In Japan, there is a saying that each grain of rice contains 88 souls, and to waste one is a sin. Similar proverbs exist all over the world.

So how did grain fall from sacred to commonplace? To become something tossed about without thought, wasted, even scorned?

I have been guilty of all of this. And chances are, so have you. I can distinctly remember times when I’ve thoughtlessly poured several cups of flour into a bowl to dust a piece or fish or schnitzel, then tossed the vast majority of it into the trash when I finished. It’s just flour, right?

Well, yes. But then, one day, I decided to make flour.

I started with acorn flour. Why? Well, I am a forager living in California. Here, the native people relied not on grain for their daily starch, but on flour made from acorns. California acorns have the decided advantage of being large — sometimes three inches long in the case of the Valley oak. And, again in the case of the Valley oak, these acorns can be low in tannins, and plentiful. Very plentiful. One old mother tree can drop a literal ton of acorns in a good year.

Making flour from acorns requires that you leach out the tannins first. You do this by shelling the acorns, breaking them up into small bits and soaking them in multiple changes of water. It is a lengthy, but not difficult process. (If you are interested, here are my directions for making acorn flour) When your acorns are no longer bitter, you must then dry them and grind once more to get flour.

When I did this, I became acutely aware of how much work this all was. How precious this flour truly is. I do my best not to waste a teaspoonful.

But acorns are not grains. Grains, by definition, are the seeds from grasses. They offer a distinct advantage in that they are annual. If my village is dependent on a grove of oak trees, many of which may be a century old, and you come and burn down my oaks, my village starves. But I can hide a sack of grain seeds in a hole. And when marauders have burned everything and left, I can replant, and, in a year, rebuild. From one seed comes many grains of wheat.

As it happens, I got a chance to see this first hand. No, marauders did not come to my house and burn down my oak trees. Rather, my yard became an impromptu wheat field.

Holly [Heyser, Hank's partner in crime] bands doves for the state fish and wildlife department. To do so, she is given bags of mixed grain to bait them into a live trap, so she can capture the doves, band them and let them go. Apparently doves vastly prefer safflower to wheat, because when the rains came in October this past year, it was wheat that began to grow in our yard. Lots of it.

I became determined to harvest this wheat. I had no idea what the yield might be, nor did I care. I wanted to see what it actually takes to harvest a grain of wheat.

In late spring I began with green wheat, called freekeh or farik in North Africa. You harvest it when the grain heads are fully grown, but the plant still holds moisture; typically when it begins to yellow.

Now if you’ve seen a wheat grain head in all its glory, it is a beautiful sight. You can see why gatherers all those millennia ago would want them. Large seeds (for a grass) that are, relatively speaking, easy to collect and remove.

I gathered a mess of green wheat and set the sheaves on a steel plate. To make farik, you then set them on fire briefly to burn away the little spikes on the grain heads, and to parch the seeds a bit. You then let all this dry in the sun for a day or two, which makes it far easier to thresh and winnow your wheat—literally separating the wheat from the chaff.

Read how Hank threshed his wheat. Read how Hank winnowed his wheat. And read one of the very practical reasons our ancestors may have ground their grains into flour.

Top photo by Holly Heyser; the rest by Hank Shaw.

Salad Smackdown: Cauliflower and Grain FTW!

It's like I was walking up a steep trail in the woods and suddenly came across a pristine pool underneath a sparkling waterfall. Hot and sweaty from the exertion, what could I do but dive in?

Some recipes are like that, in that they provide an jumping-off place for an unexpected and often refreshing experience. Jim Dixon's cauliflower with Meyer lemon relish, which chef Alice Waters (of Chez Panisse fame) based on an Italian gremolata, was like that for me. I'd made it several times to raves here at our house, as well as when I took it as a side dish to friend's homes.

The lemon relish.

Its lemony tingle is fantastic with Meyer lemons when they're in season, but regular lemons serve almost as well. And preserved lemon, minced into tiny shards, takes it to another level with their zesty, salty tang. It was the preserved lemon version that first had me pondering adding grain to the mix, so the next time I added frikeh, the smoky, parched wheat from Ayers Creek Farm that had been cooked to toothy perfection.

Dave was smoking a ten-pound behemoth of a brisket for Memorial Day, so I thought that the cauliflower with frikeh would add an additional smoky note to the ensemble (which included my mother's potato salad and grilled asparagus). There happened to be chive blossoms going nuts in the garden, so a few of those were plucked and sprinkled about.

While I feel like this particular recipe has come to a nice resting point, I'd love to hear if you discover a sparkling pool hidden in its depths.

Grain and Cauliflower Salad with Lemon Relish

8 oz. uncooked grain (frikeh, farro or barley come to mind)
1 head cauliflower, leaves trimmed but stalk left intact
1/2 to 3/4 preserved lemon, minced
1 shallot, minced (about 3 Tbsp.)
1/4 c. chopped flat-leaf parsley
1 Tbsp. chopped chives
1 Tbsp. rice vinegar
3 Tbsp. olive oil
Salt to taste
Chive blossoms to garnish (optional)

Bring a medium pot of water to boil. Add the grain and reduce heat to simmer. Cook for about 30 minutes until al dente (or to your liking) but definitely don't let it get mushy. Drain in a colander and run cold water through it to stop the cooking and cool it quickly.

Drop a whole head of cauliflower into a pot of salted boiling water. Pull it out after 3 minutes and let it cool. Make the relish by putting the minced lemon into a large salad bowl and combining with the shallot, parsley, chives, vinegar and olive oil. Let this sit for a few minutes while you chop the cauliflower into small florets (use the core, too, just chop it into smaller pieces). Toss the cauliflower and the grain with the relish, adding salt to taste. Garnish with chive blossoms, if using. Serve cold or at room temperature.

See the rest of the Salad Smackdown series—winners all!

Farm Bulletin: Farm Store Day and Renaming Frikeh

It was a big step for Ayers Creek Farm to leave the farmers' market to focus on its restaurant clients, but, not wanting to have their loyal customers doing without pantry staples, they decided to hold occasional farm days featuring the crops coming in from the fields. One of those much-clamored-for staples is the farm's frikeh, a green wheat that is harvested and "parched," a process that burns the outer husk of the grain and lends a smoky undertone when it is cooked. As contributor Anthony Boutard explains, this year frikeh has been rechristened as parched green wheat.

We will have an open farm day this Sunday, the 31st of July, from 1:00 to 5:00 p.m. (The subsequent farm day will be scheduled in a couple of weeks.) These open days are crop-driven and will occur from time to time into October.

We will have Chesters and Triple Crown blackberries by pre-order only. We will need all berry orders by noon on Friday (7/29). We will be packing them into half-flats (6 pints) at $20 each. When ordering please indicate the number of half flats so as to avoid confusion.

No, it won't be just berries. We will also harvest fenugreek, purslane and amaranth. Likely some green gage plums. In the pantry category, we will have Wapato favas, dry beans (Dutch Bullet, Black Turtle, Black Basque), genuine Gaston mustard, parched green wheat neé frikeh, cornmeal, popcorn and preserves.

* * *

Parched Green Wheat neé Frikeh

Last autumn, we were approached by a staff member working with an aid organization located in Lebanon. They were helping a group of freekeh producers and wanted to subvert the increasing supply of "fake" freekeh. We had seen problem as well. Manufacturers crush regular wheat, sometimes dying it green, and sell it as the food known as freekeh. Often it has a nasty, stuffy odor. Interestingly, around the same time the agency approached us, I had a chef describe to me some some beautiful bright green freekeh they had purchased. They were surprised it was so much greener than ours and said it must be the effect of "terroir." A bottle of green dye, more likely.

Parching the wheat.

The recent research into freekeh's the health benefits has generated increased interest in the food, and an industry dedicated to avoiding the true work and craft of producing it. The agency wanted us to participate in the creation of an international definition of freekeh. The United States hosts the Codex Committee on Cereals, Pulses and Legumes. The definition would be published in the international food code, Codex Alimentarius.

We wrote the letter quoted below, which outlined our history with the food, and a proposal. Interestingly, as we though about the name of the food, we decided to drop the Arabic transliteration we had been using, and just describe the food in plain English: parched green wheat. That is what it is. Anthony has not received a reply to the letter, a pity because all of us would have enjoyed the visit, we are sure.

Threshing the parched grain.

"I am finally finishing up the late autumn farming tasks, including planting wheat for next year's production of frikeh. I decided to hold off answering your inquiry because I want to detail a plan that might help bring attention to your efforts.

"As the post that led you to Ayers Creek explained, we have been producing high quality frikeh since 2003, and have sold tons of the parched grain just within the small metropolitan area of Portland, Oregon. I will add that frikeh production is a small part of a larger enterprise that produces hull-less barley, milling corn, chickpeas, dry beans, soy and favas, as well as fresh fruits and vegetables. We sell to restaurants within the city and a few further afield. Interestingly, none of our customers are traditional Middle Eastern restaurants, and most of the people who buy it were introduced to frikeh by us. Most have subsequently tried "Brand X" frikeh purchased in the stores, hoping to fill in the months when we run out, and found it inedible. The restaurants simply drop frikeh from their menus when our supply is gone. Our frikeh does have its own character shaped by us and our staff, and the people who buy from us. One of the advantages of knowing our customers by name.

Buttermilk, purslane and frikeh soup.

"The restaurants that buy our frikeh point to the breadth of its potential market. For example, we have a Japanese restaurant, Chef Naoko, that uses frikeh in its bento box salads. The restaurant provides bento boxes for the business-class lunch service on Delta's flights between Portland and Tokyo. Higgin's Restaurant is our first and biggest frikeh user, and it is hews to a northern French menu. Two classic Italian restaurants, Nostrana and Ava Gene's, serve frikeh-based dishes during the summer months. At Nostrana, frikeh is served as a pilaf and also in a very refreshing buttermilk and purslane soup. The fact that frikeh can draw these restaurants out of their standard ingredient list speaks to its appeal. It fits into any number of cuisines.

"At the market, we have several customers who enjoy frikeh with yogurt for breakfast. Our friend Linda Colwell serves it in a salad of home-canned Oregon albacore. Carol and I make a lamb tartar with frikeh. The lamb is coarsely ground, mixed with the frikeh in equal parts and seasoned with mint, lemon, olive oil, shallots and parsley. Inspired by raw lamb in kibbeh, though it is very different in texture.

Frikeh and albacore salad.

"With this experience in mind, I invite a group of the Lebanese frikeh makers you work with to visit us in Oregon. Portland is a market well-primed by us for appreciating quality frikeh, and it would give them an opportunity to meet a new group of customers that see beyond its genesis as a Middle Eastern ingredient. The chefs would have a good time. Provvista Foods has long tried to carry our frikeh, an overture we politely decline because we prefer to sell directly to our restaurant accounts. I have seen information on your freekeh and the grain looks good, though the pitch that frikeh is cheaper than quinoa detracts from the message. It sounds unnecessarily defensive, especially as frikeh is a delicious food on its own accord. Sounds like  a pitch for generic versus branded medicine rather than food—it is just as much a superfood, but cheaper. A week with fresh voices who love the ingredient would improve the message.

I am sure we could get a good write-up describing frikeh makers a world apart meeting each other, likely with good national coverage. We have a strong National Public Radio affiliate (Oregon Public Broadcasting) here that might see it as an interesting story with nice blend of local and international flavor. Our friend, Deborah Madison, is a longtime devotee of frikeh and may have some insights into how we could make the meeting an entertaining and compelling story. Locally, Linda Colwell, mentioned earlier, is the farm's Melete, Muse of Occasion, and could help us put together a good visit. Most recently, we hosted 70 attendees of 'Organicology' and about 80 legume researchers from around the world from the Bean Improvement Cooperative.

Frikeh tabbouli (recipe here).

The visit could include a stop in the San Francisco area. Steve Sando of Rancho Gordo has a great deal of experience working with farmers from Mexico who supply him some of the beans and corn his store carries. He may have some excellent ideas about marketing frikeh in the United States. Both Ranch Gordo and Ayers Creek have done a good job of making some pretty humdrum staples like corn, barley and beans interesting. Over many years, we have sold frikeh to Boulette's Larder in San Francisco, and perhaps the delegation could try their culinary treatment of frikeh.

Although I have no general qualms about amending various codices to include a definition of frikeh, I do know that people buy on the positive. Having a government agency define an ingredient will not improve sales or expand interest in the grain. Both Ranch Gordo and Ayers Creek produce and sell premium beans and grains successfully in a market where there is a flood of cheaper alternatives by focusing on quality and character. At Ayers Creek, we also shy away from all health claims. I think the overused jargon surrounding health benefit claims for all sorts of commodities creates a white noise of claims that detracts from the pitch. When people return to buy more frikeh, they describe that special smoky, sensuous and grassy quality in the grain and how they served it, not some tenuous health benefit that has given them a bit more skip in their step.

Anyway, we are extending this offer, and would love to host a group of fellow frikeh/freekeh makers. If, over time, you want to amend the FGIS Codex to include a definition of frikeh/freekeh, I would be happy to write a collegial letter in support, but I am not interested in taking the lead on such an effort. Even a flood of really awful fakes would not have any effect on our sales. Indeed, the more awful, the better, because they simply amplify the quality people have come to expect from our frikeh."

Farm Bulletin: Not Dead Yet (i.e. Berries, Farm Day & More)

This morning I was thrilled to check my e-mail and find a message from Anthony Boutard with news  of the latest goings-on at Ayers Creek Farm. As mentioned below, pencil in July 30-31 on your calendar and make plans to head out to the farm to purchase the goods direct from the farmers themselves.

Yesterday our local funeral home offered us, for "Absolutely Free!," a copy of their Final Wishes Organizer®. There was also an offer of a prepaid funeral plan, though, for our tastes, R.I.P. stands for Rot In Place, or just leave us out for the vultures, bot flies and carrion beetles. A return to nature. But it got us to thinking that we have been so wrapped up in the business of farming, we had failed to provide any updates.

Linda Colwell's Amish Butter cornmeal crostata with Imperial Epineuse plums.

Some of you may have observed that New Seasons has been carrying our 3.14 cherries and Imperial Epineuse prunes for the last two weeks, and yesterday the stores put out the first of our Chester blackberries. All bear our black and yellow label. The first harvest is always a mite short, but Tuesday and Wednesday the next lot of berries will arrive in those stores. With two new stores, it will be a challenge to meet their needs. At the end of next week, Food Front and Rubinette may be ordering berries from us as well. As the season progresses, the other fruit that we offered at the farmers' market will be available to these stores. (If you want a flat of the early berries, talk to the produce staff of the store.)

Chesters on the canes.

We are always amused by the abject distain Chesters receive in the press. For example, in 2007 the New York Times described them as "mediocre." A couple of years ago, the state's incredible shrinking tabloid of record, otherwise known as The Oregonian, described them as in "the marionberry family, chesters come with small seeds and a bitter taste." Last week, their Food Day article extolling the season's berries completely ignored the Chester, which we guess must be judged as progress. No big deal, weather permitting, we expect to sell between 60,000 and 80,000 hallocks generously filled with Chesters over the next five weeks without the help of the Oregon's tabloid press. Still, it leaves us scratching our heads. For some crazy reason, in 2001 this berry, so reviled in the press, earned "Outstanding Fruit Cultivar Award" by the American Society for Horticultural Science; maybe because it really is so delicious. That's our theory backed by some empirical evidence.

Parched green wheat (i.e. the grain formerly known as frikeh).

We are planning to resume our open farm days the last weekend of July [tentatively 7/30-31], as soon as we wrap up the many loose ends dangling about the place. We need to finish threshing out the favas and barley, and get the chicories planted. We are finishing up the cleaning of the parched green wheat as well. As soon as we have the details nailed down, we will send another update. We know there is some impatience out there, but if we get everything done well here, there will be an abundance available for everyone once we are ready to resume the farm days.

We don't have any social media presence, at least that we know of, nor even a website, but a search for the #ayerscreekfarm hashtag at Instagram offers visual proof that we have been busy in the past two months. And having an Italian-German colleague, Myrtha Zierock, our Resident Fellow, has left us well fed and happy as well.

Photo of plum crostata by Linda Colwell.

Farm Bulletin: Dropping the F-Bomb

No no no, not that f-bomb, the other one that gets bandied about whenever August's heat begins to be mitigated by temperatures in the mid-70s. Though it's hard to argue when that word is dropped by contributor Anthony Boutard of Ayers Creek Farm, since his partner, Ma Nature, is pretty much the decider when it comes to changing the seasons.

This weekend marks the sartorial end of summer, and we have had this feeling for a couple of weeks that autumn is close at her shoulder. It is almost as if the fruit is racing to beat the changing weather. As if to underscore this point, we sent our goodbye Chester note to the produce managers and stopped delivering the blackberries on Thursday because the fruit is too fragile to sit in a store display.

Au revoir, Chesters…

This is the earliest end to the Chester season in the 12 years we have been selling fresh market fruit, and the first time that it has fallen in August. We will have some at the market tomorrow, but treat them with care as they are very thin-skinned. Just as autumn leaves change color when the chlorophyll disappears, as the acids and pectins fade from the fruit different flavors come to the fore, and you might discern a hint of resin in the fruit. It is there in the fragrance as well.

Auf wiedersehen, frikeh…

Just as the swallows have departed the farm, the frikeh is gone, too. If time permits, we will grind some corn and start hauling in preserves again. We will have a lot of Astiana tomatoes for those who want to start putting some up for winter. Tomatillos, beets, onions and potatoes will join the cucumbers, garlic and shallots in the mix. The stone fruit will be represented by Prune d'Agen and Mirabelles. The pulses are the chickpeas.

Dean, and grape guy, Harvey Lee Price.

The grape of the moment is Price. We regard it as the Chester of the grapes. This berry came out of the breeding program at Virginia Polytechnic Institute. The grape has a complex and obscure lineage, perhaps with a bit of scuppernong or some other muscadine among its genes given its southern ancestry. The grape is named after Harvey Lee Price who was the Dean of Agriculture at the institute from 1908 to 1945. The flavor is complex and the delicate crunchy seeds have a delicious spicy flavor, so don't hesitate to chew them. As those who attended the ramble know, it is also a first class juice grape. Like Chester, Price is of its own kind—there is no confusing it with other grapes.

We will also have some seedless grapes on hand as well, including Jupiter and Interlaken. Along with Price and the plums, good fruit for the kids to take to school, or to nibble on as they ponder their first homework lessons. And let's hope summer keeps autumn at bay for a while longer.

Summer Salad Smackdown: Grains of Truth

zeitgeist: The defining spirit or mood of a particular period of history as shown by the ideas and beliefs of the time.

It's something I've experienced before, and it could be a complete coincidence. When I was in advertising, I'd come up with a headline that was so original, so clever, a concept that I'd never seen or heard before. My ad would appear, and then I'd see the exact same concept in an ad for some national product that must have been developed at about the same time I was coming up with mine.

So I can only assume that Mark Bittman and I were in the same cultural cloud when we were coming up with our summer recipes this week. His appeared on Wednesday, so he beat me by a couple of days, but I swear on a stack of holy books that mine was in process before I saw his.

The spirit that moved the two of us was inspired by the humblest of ingredients, what a writer like Michael Pollan would call the civilizing influence on the human race. Mine was provided by the frikeh I picked up from the Ayers Creek Farm stand at the Hillsdale Farmers' Market, a parched wheat with a faint, smoky essence.

Here is my point: these grains, whether farro, frikeh, bulgur, millet or some other whole grain, are perfect for summer salads. Cook the grain in the cool of the morning, preferably enough to last a couple of meals, then throw it in the fridge to make up later. And I agree with my colleague, Mr. Bittman, that these grains provide the base, the bass note to carry the playful tune played by whatever seasonal ingredients you can lay your hands on, whether carrots, radishes, spring onions, parsley, tomatoes, etc., etc., etc.

Mine was an eclectic collection of sweet red spring onions, the very last of the albacore I canned last summer, avocado, chopped parsley, cubed pecorino and purslane. I prefer to dress grain salads with the simplest of dressings, i.e. olive oil and lemon, but you can get fancy with herbed vinaigrettes or emulsions of balsamic and shallots if you prefer.

Grain salads are hearty and filling, yet cool and fresh, and definitely fit for company. They pair well with a full-bodied rosé, especially served around a table in the back yard with a gentle summer breeze.

Get the other recipes in the Summer Salad Smackdown series.

Farm Bulletin: Frikeh Producers Announce Record Harvest

I rarely, if ever, reprint press releases on GoodStuffNW, but I felt this breaking bulletin from contributor Anthony Boutard of Ayers Creek Farm warranted attention.

For Immediate Release
Gaston, Oregon, USA
6 July 2013

The Oregon Chapter of the Frikeh Producers' Council (FPC) announced today that mild, dry weather and improved efficiency assured a record frikeh harvest of the highest quality.

Harvesting the heads of wheat.

Most of us are familiar with grains in their mature, dry state, which allows them to be stored for many years. However, in many places in the world, grains are also enjoyed in their immature (green) state as a seasonal delicacy. Throughout the Middle East, from Egypt to Turkey, immature wheat is harvested, burned and threshed to produce frikeh (frik, firik, freekeh). Erroneously called an "ancient grain," frikeh is actually a way of processing wheat, not a different grain at all. Claims of its ancient status are dubious; what is certain is its delicious flavor.

The parched grains of frikeh.

The parching of emmer in caldrons was documented in Roman times by Cato the Censor around 200 BC, and in parts of southern Germany, unripe spelt is still treated this way to make grünkern. Frikeh is very different in that it is exposed to an open flame (top photo). There is scant documentation of this method of preparing wheat, most of it from the last 50 years. Some authors have speculated that it was originally produced using barley straw, but that makes no sense as the straw's flame is not hot enough. Anyway, the straw was very valuable as bedding and packing material, and would not be wasted burning wheat. Possibly small branches from orchard and olive groves were used. Like our fellow frikeh makers in the Middle East today, we use propane torches, which are easier and safer to use.

Feeding parched grain into the thresher.

The harvest of frikeh is done during the brief interval between the “milk stage” when the endosperm is still liquid and the “soft dough” stage when the endosperm is solidifying. Too early and the grains shrivel; too late and the grains are no longer dark green and develop a starch quality. Frikeh of the best character is produced during a three-day window in the ripening process. The wheat is cut, the sheaves are stacked on corrugated metal and the heads are lightly roasted. In addition to imparting a smoky flavor to the grain, the heating also stops the maturation of the endosperm. The sweet fragrance of the roasting wheat wafts through the valley. The charred heads are then fed into a thresher to separate out the grain. The grain is cleaned and then dried on shallow trays.

Drying the threshed grain.

The finished frikeh is rinsed a couple of times and cooked for approximately an hour. Any remaining chaff and stems should be skimmed off during the rinsing or cooking. Frikeh may be used in any recipe that uses rice or bulgar wheat. It is traditionally served with lamb or chicken. The smoky, nutty quality of the grain adds a unique dimension to vegetarian dishes. The simplest is as a tabbouleh style salad, perfumed with lemon and mint. 

A frikeh salad with albacore.

FPC spokesperson Carol Boutard notes that frikeh has different nutritional qualities than mature wheat. It is higher in minerals, especially potassium, calcium, iron and zinc, higher in dietary fiber and low in phytic acid.

You can find frikeh at the Ayers Creek Farm stand at the Hillsdale Farmers' Market on Sundays from 10 am to 2 pm. Don't delay, though…it'll only be available for the next couple of weeks.

Frikeh in the Making

An excellent video just out from my friends Rebecca and Fred Gerendasy at Cooking Up a Story with a great explanation of how frikeh is made. Plus you get to see contributor Anthony Boutard of Ayers Creek Farm in action, a rare treat.

Farm Bulletin: Fabulous Frikeh

Last week I was fortunate to have the chance to go to Ayers Creek Farm in Gaston and watch the process involved in taking frikeh from field to table. Contributor Anthony Boutard is one of the only farmers in the United States producing this ancient foodstuff, and its extreme seasonality makes it an unparalleled treat.

Frikeh (freekeh, farik, etc.) is parched green wheat and a Middle Eastern specialty. We prepare it using the traditional method of collecting heads of wheat while the grain is still green (left), burning them (top photo) and then threshing the grain from the head. The process produces a jade green grain that is slightly charred and has a smoky quality. Although durum wheat is usually used, we have started using the much thinner-skinned soft red wheat, producing a more tender grain.

The parched wheat.

Using fire to process green grains is also practiced in southern Germany where spelt is roasted to produce grünkern, and in the southwestern United States where unripe corn in the soft dough stage is roasted and dried to produce chicos with their own characteristic light smokiness.

Anthony loading the parched grain into the threshing machine.

To prepare frikeh, rinse well in couple of changes of water. Pull out any errant hulls or chaff. Drain and put in a saucepan. Add water to about double the depth of the grain, or more. Bring to a boil and then simmer 45 minutes to an hour. Drain, salt as desired and store in the refrigerator without liquid.

The threshed grain, called frikeh, is spread on screens to dry.

At this point, the grain can be used in many different dishes. It appeals to the most careful vegans and raw meat omnivores. In it simplest use, we use frikeh to build a seasonal grain salad along the lines of tabbouleh, using olive oil, lemon juice, mint, parsley, cucumbers, and tomatoes, and perhaps a bit sauteed summer squash. Chef Naoko Tamura of Naoko Bento adds frikeh as a topping for her seasonal salads using a traditional Japanese soy and rice vinegar dressing.

Stacked screens are spaced apart to facilitate air circulation; the grain dries for two weeks.

Frikeh is delicious with yogurt and buttermilk. Nostrana serves a buttermilk and frikeh soup based on a similar soup from Deborah Madison's "The Savory Way."Linda Colwell guided us in putting together an Ayers Creek version of this soup. It uses two cups of frikeh in a quart of buttermilk. Add a couple tablespoons each of fresh cilantro and dill, a tablespoon of ground coriander toasted gently in a dry pan, and two cups of purslane whole if very young, or chopped coarsely. Linda also brought a jar of her tuna, and we made a tuna and frikeh salad (recipe on her blog).

Cold frikeh and buttermilk soup.

Yesterday, we prepared the Middle Eastern dish kibbeh using frikeh. In its traditional form, raw lamb is mashed with bulgar wheat in a mortar with parsley, onion and mint. The mixture is dressed and served raw as a tartar. Unfortunately, the raw version is seldom served in restaurants, and it is more often roasted with addition of spices. In our version, we ran a half pound of lamb through a meat grinder and then mixed it in with the herbs and frikeh. We dressed it with olive oil and lemon juice, and served it with salad and Siljans, the round rye crisp bread. Linda brought a pan of dolmas, stuffed grape leaves, to complete the feast.

Frikeh and albacore salad.

Frikeh is also very good in heated dishes. Egyptians stuff fowl, usually pigeon and chicken, with frikeh. Add it to a mix of sauteed vegetables. Its gentle smokiness and grassiness is welcome summer fare. If you plan on storing the frikeh, we suggest pouring it into a glass jar and keep it in the freezer. This preserve its quality. It is shelf stable, but the flavor drifts away over time. For us, though, it is linked with the flavors and texture of summer, and we have no inclination to prepare it in the winter.

Salad Smackdown: Grain and Bear it!

I've decided I'm going to name my next cat, when I find it, Tabbouli. If it's a tabby, that is. And it probably will be, since I'm bound and determined to find a marmalade cat like our dearly departed Chester, one of those red-rather-than-orange types like Thomasina in The Three Lives of Thomasina.

Chester, unretouched.

My favorite movie as a child, I would weep through the whole thing, especially when she (of course) is returned to the child, Mary, at the end. It was only slightly ruined when I watched it with my son when he was four or five and he pointed out that Thomasina was played by two different cats with very different markings. So I told him that the Easter bunny and Santa were fakes. (Not really…)

Frikeh simmering on the stove.

What does this have to do with salad, you might ask? Well, I not only like the name Tabbouli, I also adore the grain salad with the same moniker. So when I ran across Eamon Molloy's recipe for a frikeh tabbouli in the Hillsdale Farmers' Market newsletter, I knew it was one I had to try and it didn't disappoint. It can also be made with other grains like farro, bulgur or couscous (not technically a grain, I know), but those obviously won't have the slightly smoky flavor imparted by the scorching of the wheat. (Frikeh has a notoriously short season unless, unlike me this year, you buy as much as you can and then freeze it for future use…d'oh!)

Frikeh Tabbouli

1 c. cooked frikeh (cooled)
6 Tbsp. olive oil
2 c. finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley (about 3 bunches)
1/2 c. finely chopped fresh mint (about two bunches)
2 medium tomatoes, cut into 1/4-inch pieces
1 cucumber, peeled, cored and diced
1/2 c. finely diced sweet onion or scallions
6 Tbsp. fresh lemon juice
Salt and pepper to taste

To prepare the frikeh, rinse the grains and then combine one part frikeh and two parts water in a pot of water. Bring to a boil and then simmer for about a half hour. Frikeh can be used in recipes calling for rice or bulgher. Tabbouleh is simple summer salad where you can use frikeh. If using other grain, follow directions for its preparation.

Wash and dry parsley. Finely chop leaves and small tender stems. Wash and dry mint, remove leaves from stems and finely chop. Combine mint, parsley, onion, tomato and cucumber in a bowl. Add frikeh, olive oil and lemon juice.

Eamon adds a note at the end: "Tabbouleh recipes are, as Captain Barbosa in Pirates of the Caribbean would say, 'more like guidelines.' If you like more grain in your tabbouli, just add more frikeh."

More salads in the Smackdown: Kale Salad with Anchovies, Olives and Lemon and Panzanella.

Farewell to Frikeh, Part III: Fixing the Problem

In this final installment of the series, contributor Anthony Boutard of Ayers Creek Farm outlines how the ODA and state legislators can help small scale farmers increase the value of their crops. (What is he talking about? Read Part I and Part II.)

The movies Food, Inc., King Corn, Michael Pollan's book Omnivore's Dilemma and a host of other films and books have identified the substantial flaws in our food supply. These problems seem remote and insurmountable, and the best we can do as individuals is to shift our buying habits. When the Oregon Department of Agriculture (ODA) uses its rules to say frikeh (parched green wheat) and other traditional farm products cannot be sold in a farmers' market, it brings a local dimension to the problem. Fortunately, we have the ability to initiate constructive changes at the local level.

Farmers' markets have been operating in Oregon for almost 30 years. The oldest still operates in Grants Pass. The Portland Farmers' Market started in 1993 and was originally located in the Albers Mills parking area. These markets allowed nonconventional, small scale farmers to survive. For the first decade or so, the markets were ignored by the ODA. In the mid 1990s, the bureaucracy started to get itchy as markets started to sprout up in urban areas. To address the situation, a couple of market managers sat down with ODA staff and crafted a set of guidelines for vendors. Earlier this year, the agency started an aggressive campaign to increase regulation of farmers' markets. The agency has decided to draft rules later in the autumn and possibly require licenses for farmers' market vendors.

Was there an incident that gave rise their concerns? No. For three decades, Oregon's farmers' markets have operated safely, and without any reported food borne illness incidents. In fact, this exemplary safety record is reflected nationwide. It is clear that factors other than straightforward food safety concerns are behind the move to further regulate farmers' markets. After all, the food safety challenges are arising from the complexities of the food industry that is already regulated by ODA and other agencies, not the simple open air farmers' market. Data and science tell us ODA is moving in exactly the wrong direction.

The Oregon Legislature has never grappled with the question of whether and how to regulate farmers' markets. There is no policy or set of laws that relate to farmers' markets. The basic statutes governing food safety were drafted long before farmers' markets and other direct sales venues became institutions. Leaving ODA to regulate direct sales without an open and public discussion will be disastrous. We believe it is time for the legislature to take a look at how other states regulate farmers' markets and food production from small scale farms, and come up with a coherent approach for Oregon. We provided several examples of states with more progressive approaches than Oregon.

The reality is, Oregon makes it very difficult for small scale farms to increase the value of their crops. For example, there is a domestic kitchen license, but it requires no pets in the building where the kitchen is located. In our case, we cannot get a domestic kitchen license as long as our beloved dog Tito still lives. Other licenses are expensive and the requirements so burdensome that few farms even explore the option.

There is a land use dimension. Our farm is zoned Exclusive Farm Use, 80 acres, High Value Farmland. This means we cannot divide the land and have few options for the land other than agriculture. We support those laws. That said, because the land use laws are predicated upon the farmer's ability to manage the land profitably, the state should be circumspect about depriving a farmer of the ability to produce a food like frikeh on the land without good cause. Unless there is a clear safety or environmental rationale, farmers should be able to extract as much benefit from their labor on the land as possible.

The interim between sessions is a good time to contact legislators. Senator Jackie Dingfelder and Representative Brian Clem, who chair the legislative committees that oversee agriculture, along with your own legislators, should be contacted. Various groups concerned about food supply and quality also need to initiate the discussion with Sen. Dingfelder and Rep. Clem. If we are going to have a healthy market farm sector, we need to establish separate policies and laws governing the sector. Picking up on the bicycle analogy, it does not make sense to force bicyclists to wear seat belts when a helmets are what is needed.

This is where we need your help. We need as many people as possible to encourage Sen. Dingfelder and Rep. Clem to have their committees to discuss small scale farming and its reliance direct sales venues such as farmers' markets and community supported agriculture (CSA). We need tiered rules that are grounded in good science and hazard analysis. We need profitable small farms if we want to preserve farmland. We need the state to recognize the fundamental safety of a direct sale between producer and consumer.

There is great concern among farmers and market managers regarding ODA's push for greater regulation. For most of us, this is time when we are the busiest, and so we need the other leg of the three-legged market stool, our customers, to help us. As things progress, we will keep you updated.

You can e-mail Sen. Jackie Dingfelder and Rep. Brian Clem to express your concerns about this issue, and you can click on the link to find your legislator's contact information (including their e-mail addresses).

Farewell to Frikeh: A Way Forward for Oregon

Looking at how other states differentiate between industrial food production and that done by farmers who sell directly to the public, Anthony Boutard of Ayers Creek Farms sees a more equitable way forward for Oregon. You can find Anthony and Carol at the Hillsdale Farmers' Market every Sunday from 10 am till 2 pm.

In the first installment of "Farewell to Frikeh," we noted that the Oregon Department of Agriculture (ODA) defines "food processing" as the "…cooking, baking, heating, drying, mixing, grinding, churning, separating, extracting, cutting, freezing, or otherwise manufacturing a food or changing the physical characteristics of a food, and the packaging, canning or otherwise enclosing such a food in a container." While this long recitation certainly includes all activities that happen in food processing factories, the definition also covers many traditional farm activities that fall well short of what we consider processing foods. Under a strict interpretation of ODA's rules, all of the activities identified above must take place within a licensed facility.

Because frikeh (top photo) involves heating and drying, ODA calls it a "processed food." Like many other traditional foods, including raisins, sundried tomatoes, dried peppers and herbs, frikeh is prepared outside in the field, and not in a factory. Under ODA's scheme, if a "processed food" is not produced in a licensed facility, the agency prohibits the sale of the food. If California took such a view of food processing, we would have neither raisins, nor domestic sun dried tomatoes and peppers. Most raisins, for example, are dried on kraft paper trays set out on the vineyard floor. Some of the newer varieties are dried as clusters attached to the trellis, but still outdoors.

After learning of Oregon's approach to regulating food, we decided to see how other states regulate small operations such as ours. What is immediately striking about Oregon is the lack of any stated policy regarding farmers markets or community supported agriculture (CSA) in either the statutes or rules. Although farmers' markets and CSA's have strong support among Oregonians, that support has not translated into written policies concerning direct sales. As a result, ODA's default position is to consider farmers' markets the same as retail stores. And when farmers stray from the narrow category of fresh fruits and vegetables, they are treated as food processors. It is as if everyone, from a bicyclist to a heavy truck driver, must get the same Commercial Drivers License (CDL). No distinction is made between farm based enterprises and multinational corporations. In fact, ODA has been adamant that no distinction should be made.

Many states, perhaps a majority, have adopted what is the regulatory equivalent to a bike lane for farms that sell directly to the public. In Ohio, the state has a category called "Cottage Food Production Operation." Farms are allowed to produce and sell a clearly defined range of nonhazardous foods, including sorghum and maple syrup, various baked goods, jams and jellies, candy, fruit butter, dried herbs. Kentucky and Iowa similarly allow farms to produce a range of nonhazardous foods without a processing license. Kentucky also has a "Homebased Micro-Processor" certification which allows greater latitude in pressure canning low acid foods.

In 2004, Minnesota passed the "Pickle Bill" which allows Minnesotans to make and sell their famous vegetable pickles without a processing license. Last month, the Indiana legislature passed a law that allows market vendors and roadside stands to make and sell nonhazardous foods made at home. New York, Maine, Vermont, Connecticut and Massachusetts also have a separate tier for farm-based food production.

A couple of decades ago, Oregon's farmers sold virtually all of their production to food processors. The previous owners of our farm, for example, had contracts with Agripac (sweet corn), Steinfeld's (cucumbers), Smuckers (strawberries) and Cascadian Farm (blackberries). Today, three of those companies are no longer doing business in the Willamette Valley, and Cascadian Farm has but a few Oregon growers left.

New types of farm operations have arisen in the decades since the current statutes, definitions and rules were drafted. Over the last decade, new farmers have had little choice but to find new ways to sell their food, including directly to the public at farmers' markets and CSA's. We need to update the statutes and rules to reflect farming's future, not just its past. At Ayers Creek, we have been making wonderful raisins for our own consumption and we might even have our first run of sorghum syrup this year. Under the current rules, we are prohibited from selling these unadulterated and wholesome foods.

Our hope is that Oregon will take a closer look at states that have adopted less onerous approaches to increasing family farm income. A more realistic set of rules defining and regulating "food processing" as it is applied to farm operations will provide many benefits to farmers and consumers. Will loosening requirements for farm-based food production create a food safety issue? No. The "Pickle Bill" did not create a mass die-off of farmers' market customers in Minnesota.

The food industry is where the problem lies, not the family farm. The reality remains that, in states with progressive views on farm-based food production, food borne illnesses have not been an issue at farmers' markets or with CSA's. Farmers eat the food they produce and there is no chain of custody to track. Squadrons of food inspectors and a myriad of properly filled out forms and licenses cannot replace the simplicity of a direct sale when it comes to food safety and quality. In fact, if you read the ingredients for a jar of conventional, mass-produced pickles, you will understand why they have to be licensed.

In Part III of this series, we will discuss the various ways to improve the rules governing food production in Oregon. Up to now, those rules in Oregon have been shaped the industry, not consumers. That has to change. Consumers need to participate in governing how food is produced in Oregon.

Farm Bulletin: Farewell to Frikeh

Anthony and Carol Boutard of Ayers Creek Farm return to the Hillsdale Farmers' Market this Sunday, but will be without a unique seasonal product that their customers have come to love. Anthony explains:

Several years ago, we started experimenting with various grains at Ayers Creek Farm. Our research led us to an ancient food called "frikeh" (above). Produced by farmers since Biblical times, frikeh is wheat harvested while still green, then burned (parched) and threshed. The resulting grain is jade green with a grassy, sweet and smokey flavor. The green wheat is more nutritious than mature wheat, and high in fiber. Over the last five years, we have sold frikeh for a short time in early summer. With its smokey quality, our frikeh offers a distinct and exciting variation on normal starchy grains. It is especially popular with vegetarians.

The durum wheat after parching.

Frikeh is prepared throughout the Middle East. Until we began our experiments, there was no commercial production of frikeh in the US. There is a three-day window where the grain, durum wheat, can be burned. It is a rustic process, the grain is parched in the field on sheets of corrugated metal. Once parched, the grain must then be dried outside on screens covered to protect it from the sun and birds. You can see traditional frikeh preparation here.

Frikeh is an ideal crop for small farms which need to add value to overcome the disadvantage they have relative to "economies of scale. For a more detailed discussion of our experience with the grain and its production, go here. Because of a new and aggressive direction taken by the Oregon Department of Agriculture Food Safety Division, we will not be able to sell frikeh this summer.

Here's the problem. The Oregon Department of Agriculture (ODA) has just decided to define frikeh as a "processed food," same as Spam, Marshmallow Fluff or Fruit Loops. Because it is prepared in the field, there is no industrial facility to license. Last week we were notified by the ODA that we are prohibited from selling frikeh.

Is there a food safety issue with frikeh? Absolutely not, it has been prepared for 3,000 years or so without a blemish upon its reputation. In fact, ODA allows the sale of frikeh imported from Lebanon, Jordan and Syria. Nonetheless, it bans the locally produced frikeh. Yes, this flies in the face of common sense, sound food policy, and the basic principles of food safety. What's the difference? Our frikeh is fresh, certified organic, locally produced, and contains no additives.

The problem is not just the banning of locally produced frikeh, absurd as it is. The ODA has adopted an extremely broad definition of food processing: "The cooking, baking, heating, drying, mixing, grinding, churning, separating, extracting, cutting, freezing, or otherwise manufacturing a food or changing the physical characteristics of a food, and the packaging, canning, or otherwise enclosing of such food in a container." (OAR 603-025-0010(10)) This definition provides for no hazard analysis. It is just a laundry list that only works in the favor of large scale industrial operations.

As such, it sweeps up whole foods that people have never considered processed. Dry and fresh shell beans, dried peppers, grains, even garlic, all fall into ODA's definition of processed foods. The steep licensing fees will discourage farmers from trying new ways to present food. For example, up to now, most of us have quietly interpreted the rule to exclude casual drying of peppers on the plant. That has changed because ODA sought severe means to keep farmers and other vendors in line, and the legislature accommodated them by increasing civil penalties from $250 to $10,000.

What is troubling to us as farmers is the absence of a larger, positive and forward-looking vision of farmers' markets within the ODA. It saddens us that the Oregon Department of Agriculture has chosen to be an impediment to small farm operations such as ours. As many other states have recently worked to relax the regulation of nonhazardous food preparation, and expand the potential for family farm income, Oregon is moving in the opposite direction. Those of us who sell directly to the public take food safety very seriously, so it should not be a surprise that there have been no incidents of food borne illnesses reported at Oregon's farmers markets.

This is a three part essay. In the next installment, we will summarize how other states have encouraged small farm enterprises through policy and statutes. The third will offer some thoughts on the ways in which Oregon can encourage the growth of farm enterprises. On the 26th of July, we will return to our musings on birds, insects and other aspects of pastoral life in the Gaston Agricultural District.

Be sure to read Part II: A Way Forward for Oregon and Part III: Fixing the Problem, which has links for the legislators you need to write to.