Friday, September 05, 2008

Frisco Road Trip, Pt. 9: The Point of It All


The genesis of this road trip, as I mentioned in Part 1, was when I heard that a large exhibition of the work of Mexican artist Frida Kahlo was going to make an appearance at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. When I mentioned this to our friends Tom and Judy, who live not far from SF, we decided to go to the show together. Which worked for us because Tom happens to be a professor of Latin American history and could give us a historical blow-by-blow of the pieces.

Suffice it to say that both the scope and depth of the work that was shown was mind-boggling. And very complete. As someone who's been reading and studying her work for years, there were pieces there I'd never seen before, and some, like the painting "A Few Little Nips," that was painted after Frida discovered her husband, painter Diego Rivera, had an affair with her younger sister, that I'd seen but hadn't realized the full impact of the work.

It's size, which is may 10" wide by 8" high, is set in a simple wood frame that is covered with what are supposed to be bloody fingerprints (photo, left). It illustrates a sensational murder of the time, around 1935, when a husband murdered his wife, his excuse being that it was just a few little nips.

But in books they'd shown only the painting itself, not the bloody, gouged frame, which adds a huge dimension of meaning and impact to the work. And is the reason to go see an artist's original works whenever you can.

Details: Frida Kahlo at the San Francisco Museum of Art, through Sun., Sept. 28. Tickets $20.50. San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, 151 Third Street between Mission and Howard Sts., San Francisco, CA. Phone 415-357-4000.

Read the other posts in this series: Getting There, Paying Our Respects, Resting in Redding, Schmoozing in Sacto, Home Away from Home, Off on the Right Foot, Choosing Chinese, The Ferry and the Hog and The Last Meal. 

Thursday, September 04, 2008

Frisco Road Trip, Pt. 8: The Ferry and the Hog


The Ferry Building in San Francisco has been on my radar for years, ever since the 1989 earthquake damaged the Embarcadero Freeway that had separated downtown from its waterfront. In a stunning feat of civic will and foresight, the building was lovingly renovated and reopened as a showcase for the best of the region's food and art.

Now citizens and visitors alike stroll the parks and the waterfront, and on Tuesdays and Saturdays the plaza is the site of the Ferry Plaza Farmers' Market. We missed the farmers' market by a day, alas, but got to the building as vendors were setting up their shops, allowing us time for our second coffee of the day at Lulu Petite. I did stop at the Cowgirl Creamery shop for a quick shot of cheddar love (above) from a giant wheel of Neal's Yard Montgomery's Cheddar, then it was on to Hog Island Oyster Company for some of their briny bivalves.

Hog Island had just opened for lunch, so we grabbed two seats at the corner of the bar overlooking the oyster station and ordered a couple of pints to help set the mood. Now, my brother had said that we absolutely must come here, so expectations were high. Watching the guy in charge using his knife, we knew we were in good hands (he showed us his scars), and we ordered a mixed dozen.

While he was shucking our oysters, he explained that Hog Island oysters are farmed near Marshall, California, in the waters of Tomales Bay across from Point Reyes National Seashore. We nodded politely, of course, since he did have a knife, which he casually mentioned he'd sharpened in the tradition of all good oyster shuckers.

Clockwise from upper left: Hog Island Sweetwaters from Tomales Bay; Hog Island Atlantics, Tomales Bay; Hog Island Kumamotos, Tomales Bay; Gold Creeks, Hood Canal, WA; Beau Soleils, New Brunswick, Canada; Dabobs, Dabob Bay, WA
As we slurped our way through them, it was fascinating to taste the differences in flavor and texture, from mild and creamy to salty and toothsome. All had a similar brininess to the liquor, and it was explained that the imported oysters (in our case those from Washington and Canada) are brought in and immediately submerged in the bay so they can "breathe" again before being sold.

Our favorite? The Dabobs for their rich, creamy texture and taste. And the day's fish stew, thick with tomatoes, shellfish and big hunks of fish, (which was getting its last taste test by the staff when we walked in), looked amazing, as did the whole sardines on a salad of white beans (left).

And right now I have to thank our waitress for being patient enough to stop in mid-delivery so I could snap pictures and ask endless questions while she tried to get her work done. Maybe it was the Oregon connection, since her mom just bought some acreage in Central Oregon. Or probably because she's just a really swell gal, but she ended up buying our beers and promising to keep in touch. How great is that?

Details: Hog Island Oyster Company in the Ferry Building Marketplace, One Ferry Building (at the bottom of Market St.), San Francisco, CA. Phone 415-391-7117.

Read the other posts in this series: Getting There, Paying Our Respects, Resting in Redding, Schmoozing in Sacto, Home Away from Home, Off on the Right Foot, Choosing Chinese, The Point of It All, and The Last Meal. 

Wednesday, September 03, 2008

Frisco Road Trip, Pt. 7: Choosing Chinese


We were walking through our new neighborhood...yes, we called it ours even if it was only for a few days...in the early evening and came upon a throng of people nearly blocking the sidewalk outside a small storefront. Edging past, we looked in and saw throngs of diners, nearly all Asian, slurping and laughing and chatting as white-shirted waiters hoisted large trays full of delicious-looking food through the crowd.

"We're having dinner here tonight," I said to Dave. And after a quick martini back at the apartment, we found ourselves sharing a large table with four other diners in the spare but also somehow festive dining room at San Tung Chinese Restaurant.

I'd done a little research while sipping my martini and found that the dry-fried chicken wings there were considered among the best in town. And since chicken wings have figured so prominently on our summer table, we ordered those while we perused the several-page menu.

The Colonel may have coined the phrase "finger-lickin' good" but the grease dripping off his digits had nothing on these sweet and slightly spicy flappers with plenty of garlic and crunch. With these (literally) under our belts, we dove in and ordered the dry-fried green beans, tea-smoked duck and some shrimp-leek dumplings.

The delightful little packets that arrived at our table were perfect envelopes for the fresh flavor of the shredded leeks, and the toothy bite of the luscious bits of chopped shrimp made the soy dipping sauce (almost) unnecessary. The beans were the only disappointment, being merely good versions of this ubiquitous dish, but the arrival of the tea-smoked duck made us forget any shortcomings.

With the instruction from our waiter to "Make sandwich!" we tore off bits of juicy meat from the bone and put it between the rolls. The meat-meets-sweet of the little rolls and juicy duck with its toasted-tea smokiness made for an unexpectedly lush mouthful.

And despite our best effort to finish off all the food we'd ordered, and even sharing some with our tablemates, there was plenty to take away for later.

Details: San Tung Chinese Restaurant, 1031 Irving St., San Francisco, CA. Phone 415-242-0828.

Read the other posts in this series: Getting There, Paying Our Respects, Resting in Redding, Schmoozing in Sacto, Home Away from Home, Off on the Right Foot, The Ferry and the Hog, The Point of It All, and The Last Meal. 

Tuesday, September 02, 2008

Frisco Road Trip, Pt. 6: Off on the Right Foot


When we wake up, the first priority is coffee. If we'd been desperate, there was a Starbucks just around the corner. But being the spoiled Portlanders we are, we craved something small and local and, if we were very lucky, maybe even extraordinary.

And in the neighborhood known as Sunset, just a half block from our apartment, was a micro-roaster called the Beanery. Each morning we'd pull on some clothes, walk out into the early sunlight and stumble half-awake down to the corner, following the smell of roasting coffee to its front door.

The roaster itself, with its gleaming metalllic type that read "The San Franciscan," sat right in the middle of the floor in front of bins of raw beans waiting to be turned into the stuff that made our mornings sing. All it took was a (large) cup and a pastry, and we were set for our day.

Details: Beanery. 1307 9th Ave. between Irving Judah, San Francisco, CA. Phone 415-661-1255.

Read the other posts in this series: Getting There, Paying Our Respects, Resting in Redding, Schmoozing in Sacto, Home Away from Home, Choosing Chinese, The Ferry and the Hog, The Point of It All, and The Last Meal.

Frisco Road Trip, Pt. 5: Home Away From Home


It's one of those things we fantasize about. Like, "If we won the lottery, what we do with the money?" Our wish lists have always leaned in the direction of travel, but not hopping around spending one night here, one night there, the kind of 15-countries-in-two-weeks head-spinners that too many Americans do.

Our idea of a great trip is to spend time in one place, getting to know the people, the shopkeepers, and what it feels like to live there. So if we win that $27 million one of these days, you can bet a pied-a-terre will be in the plan, a simple place to sleep and cook, to entertain friends and just hang out.

You can imagine our excitement when we heard that friends of friends of ours had inherited a building in San Francisco and were renovating a couple of the apartments to rent to visitors at very reasonable rates. And what a spot they've got.

The Apartments at Golden Gate are located a half block from Golden Gate Park in a charming neighborhood known as the Sunset District. Restaurants abound, and a drugstore, hardware store, several grocers and a post office are within blocks. Not to mention the fact that several bus lines and a light rail train (that runs right downtown) are within a half block.

Our apartment was a third floor walk-up (the top floor) with a great view out over the rooftops of the neighborhood to the west, and was simply and pleasantly appointed with all the basics you'd need for a few days' stay in the city, including a great folder full of information and maps to help get you started.

Plus the owners are splendid folks and extremely gracious. So if you, like us, can't quite afford that pied-a-terre yet, this will do quite nicely until then.

Details: Apartments at Golden Gate. Daily or weekly rates available. E-mail for availability.

Read the other posts in this series: Getting There, Paying Our Respects, Resting in Redding, Schmoozing in Sacto, Off on the Right Foot, Choosing Chinese, The Ferry and the Hog, The Point of It All, and The Last Meal.

Market Watch: Forest Grove Farmers' Market


We interrupt the road trip reportage to let you know that this week's Market Watch report travels to Forest Grove to visit one of the only Latino-flavored markets in the area. You'll find exotic herbs like papalo, used like cilantro, and green garbanzo beans in their papery pods along with the profusion of produce flowing from local farms right now. And if you haven't checked out FoodDay's new online look, do so. They even have pictures and links. Woo hoo!

Details: Forest Grove Farmers' Market. Wednesdays, 4-8 pm. On Main Street between Pacific and 21st Aves. in downtown Forest Grove.

Sunday, August 31, 2008

Frisco Road Trip, Pt. 4: Schmoozing in Sacto


A direct line is my preferred route. No shilly-shallying, no roadside attractions, no stopping at rest areas unless bursting is imminent. But this trip was different. We toodled, we toddled, we stopped on a whim, knowing that we had a place to rest in San Francisco when we arrived.

So stopping in Sacramento to have lunch with a colleague seemed reasonable, especially since this journalist and blogger extraordinaire is also the brother of friends Lickie and Loo. Plus, in my goal-oriented single-mindedness, I'd never stopped in "Sacto" to check out the capital of this powerhouse state to the south.

We met at Spataro, preferred schmooze-spot and watering hole for movers and shakers just across the street from the Capitol itself, and walked into a room full of suits and hundred-dollar haircuts. We were seated in a booth across from the open kitchen, just two tables away from The Governator's chief of staff, who undoubtedly chose that table because the kitchen noise would cover up any confidential disclosures.

Still stuffed from dinner the night before, not to mention our big B&B breakfast, Dave and I both opted for the lunch special salad, a light plate of arugula with tuna, dried cranberries and nuts, while our host had his favorite, their house burger with light, crispy fries, both excellent.

He then mentioned that we would be missing a pillar of Sacramento food consumption if we didn't stop on our way out of town at Corti Brothers, a gourmet food and wine emporium that has been in business since 1947. So after lunch we drove to an obscure strip mall and found what looked like a grocery store from the 70s, rickety carts and all, and entered this shrine of imported goodness.

What did we find there? Just the biggest selection of imported goods I've seen, from salamis and cheeses to olive oils, pastas (including five-pound bags of De Cecco pastas for...gasp...$7.99!) and canned goods. Several kinds of Spanish paella rices? Check. Four brands of anchovy-stuffed olives? Duh!

And don't even get me started on the wine selection, from $200 Burgundies sitting right there on the shelf, not sequestered behind barred, theft-proof cases, to $4.99 slurpers to have with your pizza. Plus a decent selection of beers and (I love California for this) hard alcohol to go with the olives mentioned above.

Oh, and those Coit Tower souvenir keychains you were going to bring back to your friends and family? Buy them something from here instead and you'll get a sincere thank-you instead of that pasted-on smile that says, "Whaaaaa...???"

Details: Corti Brothers, 5810 Folsom Blvd., Sacramento, CA. Phone 916-736-3814.

Update (thanks, Glassylady): On their website Corti Bros. notes: "After 38 years of operation at 5810 Folsom Blvd., Corti Brothers will be moving our store. The upcoming re-location of Corti Brothers brick and mortar operations in October of 2008 will not affect our internet and mail order customers." So if you plan to visit, call ahead or check the website for their current status.

Late-breaking news: Glassylady now sends word that in an article in the Sacramento Bee, Corti Bros. rival Good Eats, who was to have taken over the site, has backed out of the deal in response to public uproar over the potential loss of Corti Bros. Stay tuned!

Read the other posts in this series: Getting There, Paying Our Respects, Resting in Redding, Schmoozing in Sacto, Home Away from Home, Off on the Right Foot, Choosing Chinese, The Ferry and the Hog, The Point of It All, and The Last Meal.

Frisco Road Trip, Pt. 3: Resting in Redding


My brother, bless his heart, is one of the greatest guys I know. Generous to a fault, he loves the good things in life and enjoys them, high and low. Why, then, when he's in Redding, he chooses to stay in a run-down 50s motel called the Stardust that features stained mattresses, worn sheets and cigarette burns in the carpet, is beyond me.

On the other hand, it is cheap, has a great retro-style neon sign, a (small) pool and for a modest fee allows dogs in most rooms, but I just couldn't face it this trip. Redding is a town not known for its gracious hotels, so doing a little research online turned up some options on the B&B front. A couple of calls later I'd talked with the proprietors of Bridgehouse Bed & Breakfast and Apples River House, two spots that appealed because they didn't have that tea-and-antimacassar feeling so common in B&Bs.

But they were booked, so I tried Tiffany House Bed and Breakfast, one that would score a 10 on the Victorian scale, but my worst fears were allayed by host Brady Stewart's unfussy, charming manner and the fact that the house overlooked Santiago Calatrava's Sundial Bridge. Brady said they also had a large room available featuring a clawfoot tub at one end, and that we'd have access to their large deck and pool.

His wife, Susan, a wonderful host with a wickedly lovely sense of humor, greeted us and took us on a brief tour of the historic house filled with her family's antique photos, handwork and even some dresses, and then we joined them on the deck for a glass of wine before heading to Jack's.

After that awesome dinner we collapsed in bed, barely waking up in time for breakfast the next morning in the airy dining room. It got off to a promising start with mugs of strong coffee and little bowls of fresh berries and sweetened yogurt with Susan's homemade bran muffins, followed by a zucchini frittata with sausage slices in a balsamic reduction, all made Dave-safe and delicious. Well-rested, fed and caffeinated, we hit the highway for our next adventure in Sacramento.

Details: Tiffany House Bed and Breakfast, 1510 Barbara Rd., Redding, CA. Phone 530-244-3225.

Read the other posts in this series: Getting There, Paying Our Respects, Schmoozing in Sacto, Home Away from Home, Off on the Right Foot, Choosing Chinese, The Ferry and the Hog, The Point of It All, and The Last Meal.

Frisco Road Trip, Pt. 2: Paying Our Respects


Everyone has their touchstones, places they return to again and again, whether it's the house they grew up in, a lake in the mountains where the dock was long and the water cold, or maybe a romantic spot where love first blossomed. One of those places for us is Jack's Grill in Redding, an old-line steakhouse from the era when a steak dinner was not a prissified affair with balsamic reductions, wilted arugula or, heaven forfend, "ambience."

A simple room in a small stucco building downtown, it was originally a second-hand store, befitting its working-class attitude. A bar where strong drinks are served as you wait for your table runs halfway down the right-hand wall, the thirty-year-old ice machine sits squatly at the end and the bartender has been there almost as long. Fewer than twenty tables serve the crowds that come here most nights, but early in the week as it was on this trip, we had our choice of even the sacred booths that line the walls.

Classics are the strong suit here, and we always have martinis while we wait in the dimness, and as soon as we'd drained them the hostess ushered us to our booth in the corner. The only part of the menu you need to look at is on the left, where the steaks are listed in order of size. We've heard people say the prawns and chicken are good, too, but that's just so much blather in a place as dedicated to the appreciation of the holy bovine as this is.

The only other decision after specifying the level of doneness of your meat is to choose your starch, whether garlic bread, French fries or baked potato with the obligatory butter, sour cream and chives. And each one comes with a side salad that is mixed tableside in a (usually) chipped plastic salad bowl with one of four house-made dressings.

Steaks here are fried, not grilled, and my brother (another devotée and the one who turned us on to this jewel) says each one is first dipped in vegetable oil, then salted, peppered and thrown onto the superhot flat-top to sizzle to perfection. And those steaks, oh my lord, those steaks, even for died-in-the-wool grill freaks, are so tender and delicious they'll compete with the best you've ever had.

A word to the wise about Jack's wine list: While I love this place, their list is on the mediocre side, so it's worth bringing your own wine and paying the modest corkage fee, since meat this sublime deserves nothing but the best from your cellar. Our choice was an '06 Syncline syrah from Lyle, Washington, in the Columbia River Gorge, a deeply rich but not over-the-top red with lots of subtlety and spice to enhance the beefiness of our steaks. Perfect!

Details: Jack's Grill, 1743 California St., Redding, CA. Phone 530-241-9705.

Read the other posts in this series: Getting There, Resting in Redding, Schmoozing in Sacto, Home Away from Home, Off on the Right Foot, Choosing Chinese, The Ferry and the Hog, The Point of It All, and The Last Meal.

Frisco Road Trip, Pt. 1: Getting There


Road trips are a journey of time and mind, where daily life is put on hold and all that's important is the journey. Months ago I heard that a major exhibition of the work of Mexican artist Frida Kahlo was coming to the Museum of Modern Art in San Francisco and, since I'm a huge fan of her work, it was not an event I was going to miss come hell or high water.

Rather than jumping on an airplane and 90 minutes later landing at our destination, shuttling to a hotel, going to the museum and heading back home the next day, we decided that we needed some time out to watch the countryside whiz by, stop to eat when we felt like it and maybe visit some friends (or make new ones). Plus this way we could stop at the shrine that is Jack's Grill in Redding, have lunch with a writer friend in Sacramento and take as long as we wanted in the city before heading home again.

The key was renting a car rather than hauling our old Volvo wagon down and back, so we went for a compact, high-mileage Toyota Corolla that would get over 30 miles per gallon and still allow Dave, at 6' 4", some head and leg room. Throwing our gear into this simple 4-passenger jet, we headed out mid-morning, stopping for lunch in downtown Roseburg at McMenamin's Roseburg Station, the renovated central train station. Nothing spectacular food-wise, of course, but my spinach salad and Dave's burger were decent and allowed us a quick break before climbing up through the mountains and down to Redding.

Read the other posts in this series: Paying Our Respects, Resting in Redding, Schmoozing in Sacto, Home Away from Home, Off on the Right Foot, Choosing Chinese, The Ferry and the Hog, The Point of It All, and The Last Meal.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Farm Bulletin: Feathered Friends


Anthony and Carol Boutard have taken care to nurture the native inhabitants of Ayers Creek Farm in Gaston, and have even changed some of their farming practices to enhance the habitat of the birds and insects they share the land with.

At the center of the farm is small canyon bordered by a roughly 20-acre oak savannah. It took three years to clean out the old fencing, water heaters and machinery that were pushed over the edge with a Cat, all anchored in place by a thicket of wild blackberry. Ten years later, yanking out errant blackberry canes remains a springtime chore. But now grasses and seedling oaks are retaking the ground, providing forage and cover for songbirds and supporting prey for raptors. As the grasses and forbs increase in extent and complexity, so has the bird life.

Last year, as some may remember, a pair of acorn woodpeckers arrived in June, and raised a couple young. Acorn woodpeckers are communal birds, and cooperate to build granaries of acorns in dead limbs and trees. The silvery, muscular limbs and trunks of the dead oaks are now pockmarked with holes, each containing a carefully cached acorn. The trees are beginning to take on the distressed look, not so long ago the must have of the fashion industry. Last month, a reedy call announced that a new generation of acorn woodpeckers had fledged. The four adults are tending to the two young birds, demonstrating the intergenerational cooperation that makes these birds noteworthy. During the summer, the birds are mostly insectivores. Their behavior is similar to a flycatcher. They sit on a limb until an insect passes by, and then they give chase. A successful foray initiates feverish begging from the youngsters. This sit-and-chase behavior is called "hawking," and is also practiced year-round by the Lewis's woodpecker.

Last year, being the year of the woodpecker here, a Lewis's woodpecker showed up in December. With its deep green back, and its stunning dark rose breast, it was a welcome visitor. The poor dear really wanted to stay, and excavated a nest cavity. When its oneness became too much to overcome, it left, probably back to the Gorge where the species normally resides. Starlings promptly grabbed the new digs. The Lewis's was in an area outside of the acorn's territory, so it was left alone. A pileated woodpecker showed up a couple of times in the heart of the acorn's territory, and retreated after an hour or so of their fury. They defend their granaries aggressively against potential thieves, and even immature acorn woodpeckers are not allowed near the food stores.

With the acorn woodpeckers, there is a constant conversation among the group. During the day it is a "kweck" call that probably gives the bird's location. The tempo and frequency varies a bit, indicating other information is being conveyed. Their call changes sharply to an alarm when a hawk is nearby. They ignore the long-eared owls the occupy the same territory. There is also a separate call to action when a potential thief, such as a jay, starling or a pileated woodpecker, is nearby. Towards dusk the family carries on a comforting, almost melodic, goodnight conversation back and forth that lasts almost 30 minutes. Kind of a cozy, avian Walton family moment.

Top photo by Greg Gillson. Photo, lower left, from Wikipedia.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Jammin' with Mark


I've said it before, I'll say it again: I love Mark Bittman's approach to food. It's not fussy, it's not complicated, it's not full of the smoke-and-mirrors stuff you see in books and on TV where celebrity chefs are more about impressing you with their huge egos than teaching you how to cook great food.

So this post on his blog caught my eye in a big way, and you can bet this jam is going to be appearing on a pantry shelf near us in the very near future. Plus you can watch the video to see how the man himself does it!

Tomato Jam


1 1/2 lbs. good ripe tomatoes(Roma are best), cored and coarsely chopped
1 c. sugar
2 Tbsp. freshly squeezed lime juice
1 Tbsp. fresh grated or minced ginger
1 tsp. ground cumin
1/4 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/8 tsp. ground cloves
1 tsp. salt
1 jalapeño or other peppers, stemmed, seeded and minced, or red pepper flakes or cayenne to taste.

Combine all ingredients in a heavy medium saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring often. Reduce heat and simmer, stirring occasionally, until mixture has consistency of thick jam, about 1 hour 15 minutes. Taste and adjust seasoning, then cool and refrigerate until ready to use; this will keep at least a week.

Yield
: About 1 pint.

Photo from NYTimes.com

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

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.

Market Watch: McMinnville Farmers' Market


This week's Market Watch travels to McMinnville and finds a thriving local market with vendors selling everything from produce to poultry and eggs to crafts and even handmade furniture. Smack dab in the middle of "Mac's" bustling downtown, this Thursday afternoon market would make the perfect stop on the way to a long weekend at the beach, or a field trip when you just gotta get out of town for an afternoon.

Details: McMinnville Farmers' Market. Thursdays, 1:30-6:30 pm. Cowls St. between Second and Third in McMinnville.

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Farm Bulletin: The Meaning of Beans, Pt. 2


In Part 1, Anthony informed us about the difference between Fabaceae, Vicia, Vigna and Phaseolus. Part 2 gives us the skinny on shell, wax and bush beans, plus a long-kept secret recipe for dried favas.

Shell or dry beans. These are beans grown for their seeds, rather than the pod. That is, they are grown to be shelled. Typically, they are shelled when dry, and can be stored for several months.

Fresh shell beans are beans that are harvested when the seed has developed and perhaps nearing maturity, but not dry. Also called "shelly beans" in some regions. Typically, green bean varieties do not make good fresh shell beans, and visa versa. Flageolet, cranberry and cannellini are examples of good fresh shell varieties. They have a tough, tasteless pod and would not be welcome as green beans. All three are acceptable as dry beans, though we prefer them fresh shells. There is also a middle point in the drying referred to as "demi-sec."

Wax beans. Yellow snap or string beans. The yellow color is similar to bee's wax, hence the name.

Bush bean. As the name suggests, it is a bean variety that has a bushy habit. They produce beans in a shorter time than pole beans, and the beans tend to be ready about the same time. The beans that are bush beans include: garden beans (snap, wax and string, fresh shell and dry, green and wax) and bush limas. The tepary beans do not climb, per se, but have a viney habit, sprawling across the ground. This shades the soil around the plant.

The primary virtue of bush beans is that they can be harvested by machine. The machine is called a "Pixall Super Jack." Modern bush snap beans have been bred using a toughness gene that allows them to be stripped off the vine and then spewed into a big trailer where they are piled eight feet deep. A pretty impressive feat in endurance, but not necessarily a culinary virtue. We have found that even the best of the bush beans cannot hold a candle to the best of the pole beans, either in terms of flavor, or tenderness and texture. We wait patiently for the pole beans to mature.

Ful Medamas

Linda Colwell kindly gave us her now-legendary interpretation.

1 lb. favas, soaked in water for three days (refrigerated), changing water twice
3 Tbsp. olive oil
4 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
1 med. onion, chopped
2 tsp. turmeric
2 cardamom pods
1 dried Aci Sivri pepper, broken (or any semi hot dried pepper)
1/2 preserved lemon*
2 c. fresh chopped tomatoes or tomato sauce
1 c. pitted mixed green and black olives, chopped
1 c. chopped cilantro
Water or chicken broth to simmer favas
Salt

Once the favas have soaked, heat the olive oil in a deep pot. Sauté the garlic and onion with a pinch of salt. Add the turmeric, cardamom pods and Aci Sivri peppers to cook for 10 minutes slowly. Add the chopped preserved lemon, chopped tomatoes and the favas. Cook 5-8 minutes to begin simmer, add broth or water. Simmer favas over low heat and gently until favas are tender. They should be cooked in the middle but not falling apart. Finish with a seasoning of salt, stir in the olives, and chopped cilantro.

* For a fast version of preserved lemon: Cut a lemon in half cross wise and slit the sides to the end of the fruit. Sprinkle liberally with kosher salt and place in freezer over night. Prior to using, thaw lemon, rinse off salt and chop.

Farm Bulletin: The Meaning of Beans, Pt. 1


The following treatise on beans comes to us courtesy of our well-informed correspondent and Bard of Ayers Creek, Anthony Boutard. You can find him and assorted beans at the farmers' markets in Hillsdale and McMinnville.

In April, our friend Laleña Dolby asked us to unravel basic bean nomenclature. As we are staggering toward bean season, this slightly didactic response might clarify some terms.

Beans
What we call "beans" belong to the family Fabaceae, with two notable exceptions. Members of the Fabaceae are known colloquially as pulses or legumes. They all bear a fruit that botanists call a "pod." The pod splits into two halves, sometimes called valves. The pod has a distinct stem side and the seeds are fastened to that side. The place on the seed where it was attached to the pod is called the hilum, or the "eye." Most of the beans we eat are in the genus Phaseolus and all of these originated in the Americas.

Fava beans are actually a vetch, genus Vicia, and the "yard-long" or "asparagus" beans are a species of edible podded field pea, genus Vigna, to which Mung and Adzuki beans also belong. To keep things confusing, most members of the genus Vigna are called "peas." Moreover, they are in a different genus from the English or French pea, which is a species of Pisum. These are all "Old World" types, and were brought to the Americas by settlers.

There are also coffee and vanilla beans. Coffee is in the family Rubiaceae. Coffee bushes bear fleshy red berries, and inside the berries are two seeds we also call beans. There is no botanical basis for calling them beans. Vanilla beans are the fermented fruit of an orchid. It is a pod filled with seeds like the garden bean, just from a very different part of the plant kingdom.

String beans. These are traditional varieties that have a "string," or tough vascular tissue, along the stem side of the pod. If you break the bean and a stringy thing dangles forth, it is a string bean. If it breaks cleanly, it is a snap bean. Some beans "snap" when they are young, and develop a string as the pod matures. Others snap until they are too tough to eat. String and snap beans belong to the common bean (Phaseolus vulgaris) species. Traditionalists believe string beans are the best flavored of the beans, but they are a lot of work because they must be picked very young, or the strings must be removed with a stringer or a paring knife. The old southern varieties like "Caseknife" and "Creasy Cutshorts" are good string beans, but take too long to mature here. Yes, we are stubborn enough to think we could sell beans that have to be stringed. You all were spared that hard sell.

Runner beans. These are perennial bean plants that form a tuber and generally have a climbing habit. They are a separate species, Phaseolus coccineus, from the common green bean (P. vulgaris) which is an annual, dying after bearing fruit. The flowers or runners are large and showy, and they are often planted as ornamentals. Some are called "half runners" because the crawl rather than climb. Lima beans (P. lunatus) and tepary beans (P. acutifolius) are two other species of beans commonly eaten in the southern parts of the US. The pods of lima beans have a sharp point when they are dry, and stick into your flesh. They also pop open explosively when fully dry. We have tried growing them for five years, but unfortunately limas are poorly adapted to our climate.

Pole beans. These are climbing beans that can be trained up webbing, poles or twine. The beans that climb include: garden beans (snap and string, fresh shell and dry, green and wax), pole limas and runner beans. Pole beans are sought out because of their exceptional flavor and tenderness. The Willamette Valley once grew hundreds of acres of strung Blue Lake Pole beans; all had to be picked hand. (For those who delight in grammatical quirks, pole beans are strung; string beans are stringed.) Today, pole varieties have been replaced by bush beans that can be machine harvested.

It should be noted that pole green and wax beans are best when they have started to develop a seed. They also benefit from long, slow cooking. Among the dry or shell beans that grow on poles are Borlotto Lamon, Tarbais, Alubia de Tolosa and Bianchetto. There are pole beans that taste like crap, but as a rule the best quality dry beans are pole types. They have a most refined flavor and a creamiest consistency.

Go to Part 2. Shell, wax and bush beans, plus a secret recipe!

Livin' in the Blurbs: Raves and Faves

Following up on a recent rave in The Oregonian, the Portland Cello Project will bring their collaborative of up to sixteen cellists to Oregon Public Broadcasting's local radio show, Live Wire!, on August 23. GSNW's favorite cello guy, Gideon Freudmann, of CelloBop and Caravan Gogh fame as well as a founding member of the Project, describes LiveWire! as "sort of, kind of, a little bit like Prairie Home Companion, but hipper and edgier."

Details: Portland Cello Project performs at LiveWire! Aug. 31, 8 pm; $15, tickets available online. The Gerding Theatre at the Armory. Phone 503-445-370.

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Regular reader Sarah sends us the news that Hollywood Farmers' Market regular River Rock Nursery is having a garage sale on August 23. They'll be featuring heavily discounted plants and supplies like pots, trellises and garden art plus a huge inventory reduction of their greenhouse stock. I know from personal experience that these folks have great quality plants at great prices, so the sale should be amazing!

Details: River Rock Nursery Garage Sale. Sat., Aug. 22-24, 10 am-8 pm. River Rock Nursery, 19350 SE Hwy. 224, Damascus. Phone 503-658-4047.

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The House O' Smoke, otherwise known as Kenny & Zuke's, is continuing their tradition of Sunday Family Dinners with a "Summer in the South of France" event on August 31. Ken will be offering up dishes from his favorite cuisine like Provencal fish soup with saffron aioli croutes, Niçoise pasta with pistou, daube of beef, ratatouille and a lemon tart. If you call and it's sold out, there's another great meal coming in September with Nick preparing "Merry in Merida," a gastronomic tour of the southern-most part of Mexico.

Details: Summer in the South of France at Kenny & Zuke's. Aug. 31, 6 pm; $30 ea. or $40 with wine or beer. Kenny & Zuke's, 1038 SW Stark St. Phone 503-222-3354.

Friday, August 15, 2008

In Season: Melons!


Parents, if your kids are picky eaters, I say go with the flow. As long as you give them the opportunity to try new and different flavors, they'll find ones they like and don't like. For instance, I never liked melons. Something about their flavor was cloying and unpleasant. When all the other kids were sucking on slices of ripe watermelon and spitting the seeds at each other, I sat at the picnic table hoping they wouldn't notice I was unarmed.

Then a couple of years ago I bought two little charentais melons at the store, mostly because they were really cute, like little playground balls. In the car on the way home I noticed a heady aroma, floral and sweet, swirling around the car. Unpacking the bags, I realized it was coming from the melons, so I cut one open and tried a slice.

It wouldn't qualify as an epiphany, mind you, but now I enjoy melons in all their myriad permutations, from green and citrusy to luscious and sweet. So for you long-suffering parents, there is hope for your fussy ones, as long as you can wait a few decades for their palates to mature.

Photo of Galia melons at Ayers Creek Farm stand.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Memorial


Food has always been about memories for me, tastes and smells conjuring associations with people and places. I'll never forget my grandmother's rhubarb sauce, tart and sweet all at once, the stalks cooked down into a pink puree she served in a milky-green glass bowl. And making tuna casserole always reminds me of Friday nights growing up when my mother would make a big batch of it and stand back while my brothers and I dove in, arguing over the crusty brown bits around the edges.
The following is from local salt maven Jim Dixon of Real Good Food, whose stepson Daniel passed away recently from cancer. You can read about this young man's remarkable life here.

Dan loved to eat, and he especially loved soul food. I cooked a lot of greens for him, not the traditional collards with pork, but the Tuscan soul food called cavalo nero (black cabbage, aka Lacinato kale).

Cavalo Nero

Wash a bunch of cavalo nero, but leave some water clinging to the leaves. Cut in chiffonade by rolling a few leaves into a tight bundle, then slicing thinly across the stem. I find this eliminates the need to cut out the stem, but go ahead if you feel so inclined.

Coarsely chop an onion and sauté in a healthy splash of good olive oil for a few minutes. Be sure to toss in a generous pinch of salt, too. Add the greens, cover, and simmer for at least 25 minutes, adding more water if necessary. The cooked greens should be very tender. Serve on a platter and drizzle a little more oil over it at the table.

Remembrances can be made in Daniel's name to DeLiver a Cure, an organization researching cures for fibrolamellar hepatocellular carcinoma.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Seeing Double in the Hood


As regular readers know by now, my husband is a beer nut. Not the crunchy, snack-food kind but the sort who, whenever he hears about a new brewpub in town, has to call a friend and check it out immediately. And you can only imagine what he's like on trips. Forget historical sites, finding a good local restaurant or a nice little B&B. He's online making an itinerary of the breweries we simply have to visit.

So when we drove to see my brother in The Dalles, he casually mentioned that on the way back we might visit Double Mountain's pub in Hood River, which wasn't open when we came back through town from our camping trip. Being the understanding person I am, I of course acquiesced to his suggestion, knowing it would make him an immeasurably happier camper.

The pub is just a block or two off the town's main drag and has the feel of someone's basement rec room, with couches and beer memorabilia, plus a few cafe tables, scattered around. We ordered pints of their India Red Ale (IRA) and Hop Lava IPA, and both were full-bodied with a rich flavor, the Red being a bit milder and less hoppy than the IPA.

A place where you could take a break driving home from a hike or from just walking through Hood River's nice little downtown shopping district, I'd probably eat someplace else, but they do serve pizzas and snacks. And, don't tell Dave I said so, but the beer really is worth stopping for.

Details: Double Mountain Brewery & Taproom, 8 4th St., Hood River. Phone 541-387-0042.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Winging It Once More


What is it with chicken wings all of a sudden? Not only am I seeing them on menus every time I turn around (like those at Vindalho) and my neighbor has brought over her heavenly (and now award-winning) Asian wings, but now friends are sending recipes for even more! Here's what my gal Luan from Foster & Dobbs has to say about her husband, Tim, and his sexy Spicy Wings:

There's one day a year when eating chicken wings isn't appropriate: February 11th, Gallus Domesticus Solidarity Day. But there are 364 days a year when chicken wings are yummy and fun to eat! Tim likes his wings hot, spicy, and dunked in good blue cheese dressing. His recipe uses Sriracha chili sauce to drive up the heat and Rogue Creamery Oregonzola to cool it down. Throw in a few stalks of celery for snap and it's a party in your mouth. You'll want to have big napkins on hand—Tim's Spicy Wings can be messy (like so many good things in life!).

Tim's Spicy Wings

Makes about 10 servings


The wings:

4 pounds chicken wings, wing tips cut off and remaining wing cut into two pieces at the joint
1/4 cup olive oil
1-1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground pepper
4 tablespoons butter
4 tablespoons Sriracha Chili Sauce*
1 tablespoon Tabasco (optional)

The dressing:

4-6 oz. Oregonzola (or another zippy, full-flavored blue cheese)
1/2 c. sour cream
1/2 c. mayonnaise
2 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
1/2 tsp. freshly ground pepper

Either preheat oven to 400 degrees or start the charcoals on the barbecue. Toss the wings, olive oil, salt and pepper together until wings are coated. If using the oven, line a couple of baking sheets with foil and spread the wings out in a single layer. Bake for 50 minutes, or until wings are golden. If using the barbecue, spread them evenly over the grill and cook, turning at least once, until cooked through and golden.

Just before wings are done, melt the butter and stir together with Sriracha in a large bowl. Add the Tabasco sauce if you want to kick the heat up even more. When the wings are done, put them into the bowl and toss well to coat.

To make the dressing, put the ingredients together in a bowl and mix well to a fairly smooth paste.

* You can find Sriracha sauce in grocery stores that carry Thai ingredients. It comes in a plastic bottle with a rooster on the label, and is a terrific condiment to have on hand.


Photo from The Village Voice.

Market Watch: Lloyd Farmers' Market


Perhaps Portland's most intimate farmers' market, the Lloyd Farmers' Market sits in a little park on the edge of Sullivan's Gulch between a couple of the large government offices that supply most of its customers on Tuesdays. This week's Market Watch profiles a few of its vendors and gets the skinny on what makes it tick.

Details: Lloyd Farmers' Market, Tuesdays from 10 am-2 pm. On NE Holladay St. between 7th and 9th Avenues in Oregon Square.

Photo: Monkey's head mushrooms at Springwater Farm.



And thanks to cell-phone technology, GSNW is able to offer a live photo (at 11:30 am on 8/12) from market manager Eamon Molloy of the corn frenzy at the Greenville Farms stand. Cool!