Oregon's Black Gold: The Nose Knows

"I'm ceding the field to Chloe today," said Jack Czarnecki, master mushroom and truffle hunter. He'd just been bested by a young blond who totally skunked him in a day-long search for Oregon black truffles.

Jack appreciating Chloe's work.

The blond in question was a two-year-old golden Lab trained by Jack's friend John Getz (top photo, with Chloe), who'd invited him and a couple of observers to forage for this elusive buried treasure, Leucangium carthusianum, in a stand of Douglas fir in Oregon's Coast Range near Florence. Unlike Oregon's white truffle, Tuber oregonense, which grows on surface roots of the Douglas fir, the black truffle tends to grow at depths of six inches to three or four feet. (Read my article on foraging for white truffles.)

Jack and John "helping" Chloe dig.

And that's where young Chloe came in. Dogs have been used to hunt truffles in Europe for many years, almost completely replacing the famous truffle-hunting pigs. A well-trained dog can sniff out the gasses being released by a truffle hiding beneath the soil, and John had been training Chloe to find ripe or nearly-ripe truffles since she was a pup. Dogs are also preferred because they dig in one spot and disturb the tree roots much less than other methods for finding the deeper fungi.

The training is a totally reward-based system, beginning with hiding a truffle or a truffle oil-scented cloth around the house, giving the dog a treat when the bait is found, then gradually moving the game outdoors as the dog develops its skill. Chloe turned out to be a natural, one of the best that Getz had ever had, and she was able to keep at it for several hours without losing interest.

The day had started with an early morning drive to the coast, where my friend Linda and I met Jack at his family's beach house for a breakfast of coffee and egg strata prepared by his wife, Heidi. After fortifying ourselves for the day's work, we headed down to pick up John, his wife, Connie, and Chloe at their home in Florence.

Chloe gets excited about truffles.

Our little caravan made its way up into the mountains to an old Christmas tree stand that John had obtained permission to hunt on, and we ducked under the branches of the outermost trees and into the darkness beneath them. As we worked our way in, the temperature dropped precipitously and I was glad that I'd worn insulated boots and several layers of clothing.

Candy cap mushroom-infused vodka martini at Joel Palmer House.

Chloe was very excited to have all these people with her, and it took several minutes for her to calm down and focus on her job, but with a few gentle commands to "Go find them, girl," from John, she got down to business. Within a few minutes her nose was ruffling through the duff under the trees, and then she was digging furiously. John rushed to her side and when she got about six inches down he reached in and pulled out an almost-black lump about two inches in diameter.

Filet with foie gras, wild mushrooms and mushroom polonaise.

This happened many times over the next three hours or so as we tagged along, straining our eyes to see if there was the black edge of a truffle breaking the surface, but even Jack admitted that he could find little evidence of them above ground. Chloe, meanwhile, was finding a trove of the black beauties, and the scents that rose up from them were amazingly diverse, ranging from pineapple to apple to bacon and even chocolate. (Read how to ripen truffles at home by scrolling to the second half of the link.)

Scallop quenelle with black trumpet popcorn and trout caviar.

With around two pounds of Chloe's hard work in our buckets, it was back into the cars to drive to Dayton for a grand mushroom dinner at the Joel Palmer House, now owned by Jack's son Chris, who is also the chef. A shower of courses came and went, each one with a wine pairing chosen from the restaurant's cellar. And even though mushrooms were included in every course—even the martini was made from candy cap mushroom-infused vodka, which had its signature maple flavor—each one had a completely different flavor profile.

This was one of those days that was an education as well as a revelation, and ever since then I've been eyeing Walker as a potential candidate for truffle training. It could be the start of a whole new breed trait for Corgis…great idea, right?

Coffee Foam as Art

I've written about the sweet hideaway that is Fehrenbacher Hof in the Goose Hollow neighborhood. Today Dave and I stopped in, the lovely Sammy took our order and we chatted about restaurants as she made our coffees. Though when she put mine on the counter, it was almost too lovely to drink! So nice!

Happy St. Paddy's Day!

Sláinte!

Big Horses: The Future of Farming?

Nascar and monster trucks have their fans, but for me an afternoon spent out in the fresh air listening to the heaving breath of big horses and the sound of plows turning the earth is a slice of heaven. This year's Farm Fest 2012, sponsored by the Yamhill County Historical Society and the Oregon Draft Horse Breeders Association, will give you a rare chance to see a wide range of draft horse breeds doing what they do best.

Lest you think this is a quaint historical reenactment, know that plowing with draft horses and mules is coming back in a big way on many small Oregon farms. Its low impact on the land and multiple benefits—manure for fertilizer, ability to do multiple tasks like plowing, haying and harvesting, relatively low maintenance costs—have many pieces of farm equipment being put out to pasture, especially in an era of sky-high fuel prices.

So whether you're into history, horses, the future of farming or simply want a nice drive in the country, put this event on your calendar with a big red circle.

Details: Farm Fest 2012. April 14, 10 am-3 pm; $3 adults, kids under 12 free. Yamhill Valley Heritage Center, 11275 SW Durham Lane, McMinnville. 503-434-0490.

Dirty Work, Delicious Payoff

I'd heard about Oregon truffles. I'd eaten Oregon truffles. But I'd never had the opportunity to go out and dig them myself. Then the Oregon Truffle Festival invited me to attend this year's celebration, which included going out in the forest with dogs specifically trained to find them, as well as eating my fill of these native treasures prepared by Oregon's top chefs.

Outside. Dogs. Native foods. Great eating. How could I say no?

Shortly after that I got to go out with restaurateur and Oregon truffle guru Jack Czarnecki and get the download on his life's passion. Read the result in my article in today's FoodDay section of the Oregonian, "Dirty Work, Delicious Payoff."

Read about my weekend in Eugene at the festival, including a great under-the-radar B&B and some good eating and drinking!

Scourge of the Garden But Tasty on the Plate

Speaking of gardening, there are some lessons that I've had to learn the hard way. My recent Waterloo came in the form of a friend offering to share a cutting from her horseradish plant.

Fresh horseradish? Sure! I love its dry, peppery bite, which is so much milder than the white, biting stuff in jars that can take your head off if you're not careful. (Due not as much to the horseradish it contains as to the mustard oil that's sometimes added to it.)

My big mistake was in not checking into its growth habits before planting it in my raised bed. The first year was fine…it stayed contained in the corner of the box where I'd planted it and yielded a few long roots that spiced up grilled meats and stews when grated over the top.

The second year was the wake-up call. That's when I realized I had a monster on my hands. Almost half the bed was taken over by the large waving leaves, and it was threatening to strangle the rhubarb next to it. Which meant digging out the rhubarb plant and disentangling its roots from the death grip of the horseradish, as well as digging out as many of the horseradish roots as I could find.

I know I'm going to be digging them out for years to come, trying to prevent a second War of the Raised Bed. Though, as strange as it may sound, I'm committed to planting it again. The difference being that this time it'll be growing within the confines of a pot.

The Czar Gets Saucy!

Jack Czarnecki is a busy guy. Not only does he spend countless hours tramping through the woods looking for mushrooms and Oregon truffles to feature on the menu of the Joel Palmer House, the fine restaurant he founded in Dayton, but he's also come out with a line of sauces using Oregon pinot noir.

This week's Small Bites section of the Oregonian's FoodDay highlights the four appropriately-named Czar's Sauces: Pinot Szechuan, Pinot & Pepper, Pinot & Habanero and Pinot & Chipotle. He gave me a sample of each one to play with, and I can tell you that the unique flavor of each pepper comes through, with the wine adding a nice depth that you don't get with a lot of spicy sauces. It makes them perfect for using as a sauce on everything from meat to eggs, but also as an ingredient in recipes.

They'd be perfect as gifts for your favorite host or to send to spice-loving friends out of town. Here are a couple of recipes I came up with (and that got the big thumbs up from the fam), and there are more online!

1000 Island Dressing

1 c. mayonnaise
1/2 c. ketchup
1/8 tsp. celery salt
1-2 tsp. Czar's Pinot & Szechuan Sauce, to taste
1 Tbsp. Kosher dill pickles, minced (I like Bubbies)
1 Tbsp. onion, minced

In small mixing bowl, combine all ingredients and stir till well mixed.

* * *

Chili with Beans and Ground Pork

1 Tbsp. vegetable oil
1 1/2 lbs. ground pork
1 large onion, finely chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 green bell pepper, finely chopped
2 Tbsp. chili powder
1 Tbsp. cumin
1 c. Czar's Pinot & Chipotle Sauce
4 c. roasted or canned tomatoes
3 25-oz. cans red kidney beans or 6-8 c. cooked beans
1 Tbsp. oregano
Salt to taste

Heat oil in large Dutch oven over medium heat and sauté pork till browned. Add onion and garlic and sauté till tender. Add bell pepper and sauté till tender. Add remaining ingredients, stir to combine and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for at least one hour and preferably two or more. Adjust salt to taste.

Details: The Czar's sauces are available online and at Newman's Fish Co. and Storyteller Wine Shop in Portland. Also at Roth's in McMinnville, Willamette Valley Tasting Room, NW Food & Gifts, WilaKenzie Lavender, Harvest Fresh in McMinnville, Tyrus Evan in Carlton;  Zerba and Red Hills Market in Dundee, Rain Dance Gifts in Newberg and Sokol Blosser in Dayton.

I Say Raab, You Say Rabe

When I planted those lacinato kale seeds in the garden last spring, I figured I'd get some good eating from their greens later in the summer. Indeed, that did happen until they became infested with aphids and the dusty grey bugs and their residue couldn't be washed off the leaves. At that point I thought they were pretty much done and it was time to pull them out.

Then Anthony Boutard mentioned that he prefers these greens in the winter, when the cold weather causes the plants to produce sugar as a kind of anti-freeze. So I left them in, pulling off the leaves for salads, soups and sides and discovering, by golly, that Anthony wasn't pulling my leg. There was a definite sweetness that crept in as the winter progressed.

As the plant grew, looking like a Dr. Suess illustration of a tiny palm tree, the leaves became smaller and smaller, and again I thought about pulling them up. About then I noticed that little heads were forming with buds that looked like the raab I love at the spring farmers' markets. I picked one off and tasted it…nutty, green, sweet…woohoo!

So about the time the raab runs out it'll be time to plant new seeds and get a whole new year's worth of eating. Who knew?

For more, read Jim Dixon's rant about the "immature flower buds from various cabbage relatives."

How to Shuck an Oyster

If you love our Northwest oysters as much as I do, then there's a good chance you'll be shucking oysters at some point. But if you're a novice like me, you'll want to avoid the mistake I made of shoving the oyster knife into your palm in front of your guests.

So when I had the chance to interview Lissa James, co-owner with her brother Adam of Hama Hama Oyster Company on Washington's Puget Sounds, I asked if I could film her technique for shucking oysters and she graciously obliged.

(And sorry about the focus, but you'll get the idea…)

Cold Weather's Bounty

My friend Linda Colwell isn't what you'd call an excitable sort, but when it comes to the goodness coming from the fields of an Oregon winter, all I can say is, "Stand back!"

So when the Oregonian's FoodDay section asked me to put together a meal using products from our winter farmers' markets, I knew just who to call. Read about the winter feast we cooked up (and get the recipes!) in "Cold Weather's Bounty."

Photos by the ever-fabulous Motoya Nakamura.

A Really Great Day

The e-mail's subject line was enough to grab my attention: "Oink oink."

Turns out my friend Matt Berson, winemaker under his own Love and Squalor and Behemoth labels, had bought half a pig from Chris and Amy at Square Peg Farm and was looking for some moral support. He'd observed a couple of other butcherings, and taken the hands-on pig butchering class from Melinda at Portland's Culinary Workshop, but this was his first solo effort.

I told him I'd only butchered a pig once under close supervision, but he said the company would be helpful, so I was (more than) happy to come and lend a hand. I climbed the stairs at his friend Matt Johnson's Secret Society and up to the kitchen where Peg the pig (named after its former home) was waiting on a long table.

After consulting a couple of online resources, Matt set to work cutting it into the large primal sections, leaving the leg in a single piece for prosciutto. The jowl came off, then the belly, a nice long slab of bacon-to-be. We threw scraps of meat and fat into a bin for sausage, then after removing the backbone and dividing the rib sections, I had to leave Matt to do the rest of the piecework since I was meeting my friend Kathryn for a lunch date.

Kevin was just turning the "CLOSED" sign around as I got to Evoe, so I grabbed two seats at the prep table, the better to observe the chopping, shaving and mixing of the ingredients that makes this place my personal choice for the best restaurant in town. By the time I'd perused the chalkboard with the day's offerings, Kathryn had arrived and we promptly ordered two house-made elderflower spritzers and the pickle plate.

Knowing as I do that Kathryn's appetite for Kevin's food is as prodigious as mine, despite the fact that she is (quite astonishingly) petite, we set about ordering. Nettle dumplings with cream (left) were the essence of spring, three light-as-a-feather quenelles arranged in a dish of cream and briefly set under the broiler to warm and brown.

To follow that we chose a light salad. Kevin has had a way with butter lettuce salad since the early days of Castagna, and we knew this one would be the perfect mid-meal break with lightly dressed whole leaves tossed with chopped anchovies. The culmination of lunch was duck confit (right), a whole leg that had been sitting in duck fat for several days, which was then toasted to crunchy, crusted perfection and served with a spoonful of thick applesauce. After that we considered splitting the spicy pork sandwich for dessert, but decided that might be a bit too much even for us.

Dave came home that evening in the mood for a martini, so while I cubed up some of the jowl from Roger the pig that he'd cured and smoked the weekend before, he shook up a couple of his house specials. In Italy a cured, unsmoked jowl is called guanciale and, when sliced, looks a lot like bacon with ribbons of fat streaked with meat. It's used in dishes like carbonara and pasta all'amatriciana, and since I had a couple dozen of Clare's amazing eggs, I decided to go with the carbonara, a fitting tribute to Roger's home and an appropriate end to a spectacular day.

Quick Hits: Mextiza, Smallwares, Luce

Recent noontime visits to this trio of newcomers revealed much promise, with a side of newbie-itis.

With big bro Autentica holding court on the hot corner of NE 30th and Killingsworth with the likes of Yakuza, DOC, Beast and Cocotte, a little sister down the street might feel a teeny bit overshadowed. Indeed, Mextiza, Oswaldo Bibiano's new outlet a few blocks west of Interstate, is understated, but has a certain sophisticated style all its own.

Autentica specializes in the cuisine of Bibiano's home state of Guerrero in Mexico. But with a menu spanning the whole country and a wall o' tequila and mescal that rivals any the big boys boast, this little girl might just be poised to have her moment in the spotlight very soon.

On a recent lunch visit the housemade guacamole was laced with lime and the queso-and-salt sprinkled chips (left) were crisp and light. But what captured my eye were the enchiladas with roasted poblanos in a sauce of—be still my heart—huitlacoche cream sauce and sprigs of epazote (top photo). One whiff took me back to the Plazuela Machado in Mazatlan, the last time I'd had that particular combination, and this version stood up to my memories of it. The dinner menu covers much broader territory, and I've heard reports that it and the cocktails are worth seeking out. I definitely will!

Details: Mextiza, 2103 N Killingsworth. 503-289-3709.

* * *

Northeast 46th and Fremont has seen a couple food businesses come and go. The latest entrant to attempt to anchor this key corner in the Beaumont neighborhood, Smallwares, has a bit of a pedigree in owner and former Nostrana sous-chef Johanna Ware. An alumna of David Chang's much vaunted Momofuku restaurants in New York City, she's revisiting those roots with what's billed as an "inauthentic Asian" spot.

My lunch there, shortly after it opened, revealed a menu with tastes collected from many Asian cultures with, as you might expect, a twist thrown in. For instance, the kimchi featured the expected cabbage and daikon, but then also included apple, which worked quite nicely. The mapo dofu (above) was a small cup of pork richly combined with a fermented black bean sauce, but it was served sitting on a cushion of savory egg custard. Mussels (left)—see, I told you I can't resist 'em—were the most traditional, in a nice broth of sake and chile flake, and had little slivers of doughy rice cake mixed in.

The only complaint was that the same chile sauce seemed to make an appearance in several plates, though this sameness of saucing may change as the kitchen adjusts the menu.

Details: Smallwares, 4605 NE Fremont. 971-229-0995.

* * *

No sign, shelves full of Italian food products and a few tables scattered across the floor. On a side wall, a listing of delicious-sounding plates. Such is the caché of John Taboada, originator of the Spanish-inspired Navarre on NE 28th, that he can open a minimalist spot like Luce and pack in eager foodies looking to be the first among their peers to tweet about it.

On a mid-week stop for lunch, a friend and I had our choice of tables (the hipsters must still have been in bed) and we sat down to sample a few plates. The price is the only giveaway of the size of the plates…for instance, for $2 each we ordered stuffed clams, a beet dumplings and a slice of squash tart (above). Six bucks, right? What came out was a salad plate that featured three teensy little clams containing maybe a half teaspoon each of "stuffing," two 1-inch beet fritters and a maybe-1-inch-wide sliver of tart. The chicken in wine sauce was a little more generous, with a decent-sized leg divided into thigh and drumstick in a capered wine sauce. I'd like to go back in the evening and have a glass of wine and a couple of plates, but it's definitely not the kind of place to go and expect heaping plates of food or cheap prices.

Details: Luce, 2140 E Burnside St. 503-236-7195.

The Cutest Puppy Picture Ever?

Nothing scarier than a five-week-old Cardigan Corgi puppy…so cute your head could explode. I know because it happened to me. Yikes.

Livin' in the Blurbs: Springing into Action

Pssssst…don't tell anyone, but despite dire predictions of blizzards and storms, the daffodils are coming up around the neighborhood, trees are beginning to blossom and spring peas are being planted in gardens. Another sure sign of spring is the plethora of classes being offered at locales around the city for everything from urban beekeeping to gardening in small spaces to pruning trees to making cheese at home (a cheesemaking class at Kookoolan Farms, above). And adults don't get to have all the fun…there are classes for kids, too, so your budding chef, chicken wrangler or worm composter can get in on the action. All this and more for your spring edification can be found on the GoodStuffNW calendar in the column on the left, so take a couple of minutes to scroll down through the (extensive!) list. I guarantee you'll find something for yourself or someone you know!

* * *

One of my favorite organizations in the city is Zenger Farm, and all during March you have an opportunity to eat and shop and have a percentage of your purchases benefit this urban farm. Why should you care? Because on 16 acres along the Springwater Corridor (10 acres of wetland; 6 acres of an organic farm) they train and support immigrant farmers to raise and sell their crops at the nearby Lents International Farmers' Market, bring area students to the farm for tours and hands-on classes, plus educate the larger community on sustainable food systems and environmental stewardship. If this sounds worthy to you, mark your calendars for the following dates:

• Sun., Mar. 11: The Bent Brick, 1639 NW Marshall St.
• Mon., Mar. 12: Pine State Biscuits, 2204 NE Alberta St. & 3640 SE Belmont St.

• Tues., Mar. 13: The Woodsman Tavern, 4537 SE Division St.
• Wed., Mar. 14: Ned Ludd, 3925 NE MLK Jr. Blvd.; Naomi's Organic Farm Supply,  2615 SE Schiller St.; Lincoln Restaurant, 3808 N Williams Ave. #127
• Thur., Mar. 15: Biwa, 215 SE 9th Ave.
• Fri., Mar. 16: Grand Central Bakery, All locations; Portland Nursery, 5050 SE Stark St. & 9000 SE Division St.


• Sat., Mar. 17: Tastebud, Bingo Sandwich & Picklopolis at the PSU Farmers Market; Concentrates, Inc.,5505 SE Int'l. Way,  Milwaukie; One Green World Plantmobile, 1:30-4 pm, (Concentrates parking lot)
• Sun., Mar. 18: Stumptown Coffee Roasters, all Portland locations
• Mon., Mar. 19: Bob’s Red Mill, 5000 SE International Way Milwaukie, OR, 97222
• Tues.- Thurs., Mar. 20-22: Sunshine Tavern, 3111 SE Division St.

* * *

There's an oft-repeated saw that farmers' markets are just outdoor shopping malls for elitist foodies. Well, I'm here to tell you that's a big fat lie. Many, if not most, of our local farmers' markets have programs using grant funds from businesses like New Seasons Market to provide matching dollars for customers paying with SNAP (food stamps) cards. (This year New Seasons handed out grant awards ranging from $300 to $10,000 to 25 neighborhood farmers' markets.) What's really terrific for the SNAP recipients is that the tokens they get (above left) are nearly identical to the ones that other customers receive, taking the embarrassment factor out of their transactions. “Since the SNAP match program with New Seasons Market began in 2009, the Lents International Farmers Market (LIFM) has distributed over $8,000 in matched dollars, providing hundreds of underserved East Portland residents with access to fresh, healthy food,” said Laleña Dolby, Director of Development of Friends of Zenger Farm, a partner in LIFM. “In 2012, Zenger Farm will give at least $4,500 in matched SNAP funds, which will increase the number of families who can put healthy food on their tables as well as provide immediate support to emerging and immigrant farmers and vendors who sell at our market.” Amen.

Photo of tokens by Sarah Gilbert.

The Farm in Winter, Warmth for the Soul

Year-round farming in the Willamette Valley is not for the faint of heart. But let's face it, there's not much chance of getting frostbite—most likely the worst that could happen is getting soaked and cold if you haven't got your Helly overalls, a waterproof jacket and a good pair of boots.

Anthony on the gator: do not get in this man's way.

More and more valley farmers are discovering the benefits of year-round farming with the concomitant benefit of year-round income. Many use row covers and hoop houses to extend their growing seasons, evidenced by the abundance—well, seven and counting—of winter farmers' markets in the metro area. National interest in all-season farming is growing, as well, with even the august pages of the New York Times trumpeting accomplishments like those of Eliot Coleman and Barbara Damrosch of Four Seasons Farm in southern Maine (on roughly the same latitude as Oregon).

Beef tongue with hominy ready to warm up some cold bellies.

Of course there are sturdier sorts, and here I'm thinking of the likes of Anthony and Carol Boutard of Ayers Creek Farm, who prefer to grow crops that thrive without cover in the field in our soggy winters. They look for seeds from varieties that are already acclimated to NW winters, and have adapted others through careful seed selection.

Linda munching on some arugula fresh from the field. Yum!

I've had the privilege of spending some time on their farm on an occasional Friday before market, bagging beans and polenta inside and harvesting cabbage and chicory outside. While my version of "helping" tends to be more in the vein of "willing," Anthony and Carol are kind to let me stumble through some minor chores.

One of the best parts, though, is when we break for lunch, often supplied by the far more skilled farmhand and cook, Linda Colwell, who has been helping out at Ayers Creek for several years. Her recipe below for a superb beef tongue with hominy (top photo, with early broccoli) was a dish she shared recently.

Chile and Tomato Braised Tongue with Hominy

From Linda Colwell

Hearty laughter, a recording of Ruth Draper and a soul warming, rib-sticking lunch at Ayers Creek Farm was a well-rounded recovery from a morning of harvesting chicory.

For the curing:
1 beef tongue
4 qts. water
3 c. kosher salt
2 c. brown sugar
2 bay leaves
10 crushed juniper berries
10 crushed peppercorns
1 cinnamon stick
1 Tbsp. mustard seeds

For the sauce:
1 qt. tomato sauce
4 ancho chiles
4 pasilla chiles
4 guajillo chiles
3 c. boiling water
Cilantro, finely chopped, for garnish
1 lb. corn kernels, such as Roy’s Calais Flint corn from Ayers Creek Farm
2 Tbsp. pickling lime

To brine and cook the tongue: Bring the water, salt, sugar, and spices to a boil and allow to cool overnight in the refrigerator. Thoroughly rinse tongue and place it and the brine in glass or plastic container large enough for the tongue to fit completely submerged. Refrigerate for 5 days.

Remove the tongue from the brine, rinse under cold water and place it in a pot. Cover the tongue with fresh water and simmer until it is tender, about 2 hours. Remove the tongue from the poaching liquid and, when cool, peel the rough skin off the tongue. Place the tongue in a cast iron enameled covered pot, add the chile and tomato sauce, and braise in a low, 250° oven for 2 hours.

To prepare the chile and tomato sauce: Cut open the chile peppers with a pair of scissors, remove the seeds and stems and break the chiles into smaller pieces. Next, lightly toast the chile peppers in an iron skillet,  then transfer to a bowl, cover with boiling water and soak for 20 minutes. When the peppers are soft, puree them into a smooth paste and thoroughly mix with the tomato sauce.

To make the hominy: Place 1 pound of corn kernels, such as Roy’s Calais Flint from Ayers Creek Farm, in a large enamel pot with two tablespoons of pickling lime. Cover with water an inch above the corn. Bring the pot to a simmer for one hour, then turn the pan off and let sit at room temperature overnight. The next day, drain the corn and refresh under cold water, rubbing vigorously until fresh water is clear again. Cover with new water and simmer for one to two hours until the kernels are tender. Set aside.

Assembly: Mix a third of the chile and tomato sauce into the hominy and warm through. Slice the tongue and add it to the pot of hominy, napping the meat and corn with the remaining sauce. Serve with a garnish of chopped cilantro.

Lucking Out at LucLac

Scheduling to meet a friend for lunch downtown is always a dance. First, there's parking. I'm an inveterate street parker, eschewing unpleasant parking structures for the challenge of finding a space nearby where I can demonstrate my superior parallel parking skills. (Me? Competitive? What makes you think that?)

Then there's the question of timing, especially if the place doesn't take reservations. And the added complication that the spot we'd picked, Luc Lac Vietnamese Kitchen, had opened recently and was still experiencing buzz overkill, which meant the potential of a long wait in line. Fortunately my friend's schedule was flexible enough to accommodate an early meeting time, so we slipped in slightly after they opened and before the noon rush.

We got to the counter and placed our order, got our number and found a table for two near the kitchen in the back with a nice view of the room. This way we got to see what was coming out of the kitchen as well as gloat about our good sense of timing as the lunch line eventually snaked its way out the door. Ha!

The menu is divided into small plates, salads, pho, vermicelli bowls, rice plates, banh mi and kitchen specialties, all outlined in terms that even a newb to the cuisine can understand, making it a good place to learn the lingo or bring nervous relatives for an introductory foray.

We opted to share some small plates rather than going for a bowl of pho, which has drawn raves, or their eponymous Luc Lac, cubes of seared beef tenderloin. The mussels (top photo), which I have a hard time not ordering if I see them on a menu, were steamed in a lemongrass/tamarind broth with mushrooms and proved how versatile this native shellfish is. Whether inflected with Indian spices, Italian herbs or Mexican chiles, mussels are uniformly heavenly as long as they're taken off the heat as soon as they pop open. But let's not get off topic.

The crispy rolls with pork, taro, jicama, carrots and noodles (above right) were light and not at all greasy, and the de rigeur dipping sauce was a nice twist on the too-sweet stuff often served. Five-spice powder flavored the deep fried chicken wings caramelized in fish sauce and garlic (left) and would be great with a house cocktail. The papaya salad was very fresh but without much character and probably the least interesting thing we ordered.

Something I really liked about this place was the fact that, for a new place with lots of buzz, it doesn't feel over-designed. The flower-shaped umbrellas hanging from the ceiling give it a fanciful feel and the large mural on one wall provides a nice backdrop, but the funky wallpaper and the 50s tuck-and-roll banquette make it more homey than toney.

Details: Luc Lac Vietnamese Kitchen, 835 SW 2nd Ave. 503-222-0047.

The Monster Under the Dishwasher

It's probably time to stop calling Walker a puppy. He is, after all, closing in on the five-year mark, even though he still acts like a doofy puppy much of the time.

For instance, ever since he was just a little guy, his favorite spot in the house has been underneath the dishwasher door. The moment he hears the hinges creak as we open it to stow the odd cup or plate, he comes scrambling from the other room to dive under it. Of course, it was a lot easier for him to get under there and half of him wasn't sticking out, but to him it still provides a nice dark cave to find refuge in.

So if you come over, don't be surprised to find the dishwasher door down. There's bound to be something more substantial than dust bunnies lurking beneath it.

Eggs the Color of Clementines

They're baaaaaaaaack!

It was a happy day yesterday when I went out to Big Table Farm in Gaston to pick up eggs from my friend Clare Carver…we've had to make do with store-bought (organic) eggs that can't hold a candle to the flavor and freshness of these pasture-raised beauties (left, with the "chicken bus" that Clare's husband, Brian Marcy, made).

Trying to describe the yolk from the egg she'd just poached, Clare held up a clementine next to it and said it was the closest she could come to matching its color. Creamy and rich, with a sweetness from the new grass in their pasture, these needed nothing but a pat of butter to cook them and a little salt sprinkled over the top. Heaven!

A Hungry Traveler in Palermo

A good travel experience requires having a good appetite, and contributor Jim Dixon of RealGoodFood is a sterling example of someone who knows how to travel well. A fritter aficionado, he couldn't resist when he came across a vendor with some fresh fried bits at a market in Palermo.

We only spent a few days in Palermo at the end of our trip last fall, and we were surprised how much we liked it. We stayed in a small hotel called Palazzo Pantaleo in the heart of the old city, so we could walk everywhere. La Vucceria, Palermo’s most well-known street market, has devolved into a tourist trap full of cheap junk, but there are a few others that primarily serve the Palermitani.

One is Il Capo (above), a few blocks from the Teatro Massimo (left). Known for its seafood stalls, the market stretches for several blocks through the narrow streets. Without a kitchen, I couldn’t buy much, but one of the fish vendors had cooked a few things from the day’s catch, and I munched on tuna meatballs sort of like these.

Polpette di Tonno con Fiore di Finocchio

Basically fish fritters, I make mine with leftover cooked albacore if I can, but good canned tuna works just as well. Buy local Pacific albacore canned in its own juice (and don’t drain it off!).

Flake the fish in a bowl. For each cup or so of fish (roughly a can’s worth), mix in an egg, a chopped shallot, about a tablepoon of bread crumbs, pinch of salt, and a teaspoon or so of fennel pollen (the Tuscans call it fiore, flower).

Use two soup spoons to form walnut-sized “meatballs.” I make mine more flat than round, but only because it’s a little easier than rolling them into balls in my hands. Your choice. Pan fry in extra virgin olive oil until brown.

These are good plain but also nice in a simple tomato sauce.

Photos by Jim Dixon of RealGoodFood.

Them Bones, Them Bones, Them…Lamb Bones?

There's something so basic about picking up a bone and giving it a good gnawing. Even in our proper middle-class household growing up, it was de rigeur, expected, even, that you'd pick up the bone from your steak or chicken or pork and chew off all the meaty bits. And if one of my brothers didn't do what I considered a good enough job, I was allowed to pick up their "unfinished" bone and chew on it until it was sufficiently denuded.

Marrow was a different matter, though. Perhaps I didn't inherit enough of my grandmother's Alsatian DNA, but it took till I was well into adulthood to appreciate its salty, warm smoothness spread on a thin slice of lightly toasted baguette.

The last time I bought half a lamb, instead of getting the normal leg steaks, which just haven't thrilled me in the past, I had the butcher give me 2-inch-thick slices that I could use instead of veal in ossobuco. (You can order them the same way from your favorite meat department.) An Italian braised meat dish from Milan, it was traditionally made with cinnamon and bay leaf and garnished with a gremolata of lemon, garlic, anchovies and parsley. More modern versions of ossobuco include tomatoes, carrots and celery.

After braising for around three hours in the oven, the sauce had reduced and the meat was almost falling off the bone. I served it with polenta, but in Italy it's often served with a saffron risotto (called risotto Milanese). Either way would be equally fabulous, but don't forget to spoon the marrow from your bone and either stir it into your polenta or have it with a crusty piece of bread.

And if someone at the table leaves their marrow untouched? You have my permission to grab the bone off their plate for yourself. After all, waste not, want not!

Lamb Osso Buco

3 Tbsp. olive oil
3 lbs. lamb leg steaks, cut 2" thick
1 onion, chopped fine
4 large cloves garlic, chopped fine
3 carrots, chopped in 1/4" dice
3 ribs celery, chopped in 1/4" dice
2 c. dry red wine
1 c. chicken stock
2 Tbsp. tomato paste
4 sprigs fresh rosemary
4 sprigs fresh thyme
Salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 325°.

Generously sprinkle the lamb steaks with salt and pepper on all sides. Place large Dutch oven over medium heat and add oil. When it shimmers, add lamb pieces to the pot and sear on all sides until well-browned. If the pan isn't large enough to do them all at once without crowding, sear in batches. When sufficiently browned, remove to plate. Reduce heat to medium and add onion and garlic to oil remaining in pot. Sauté till translucent, then add carrots and celery and sauté till tender. Add wine and stock, stirring in the tomato paste. Add lamb back into pot and bury herb sprigs between the steaks. Cover and place in oven for 2-3 hours, turning the steaks about halfway through, until the meat is ready to fall off the bone and the stock has reduced. If the pot gets too dry, add water or more chicken stock to moisten. Serve over saffron risotto or polenta. Garnish with gremolata if desired (one version here).

Right Up There With Jimmy and Manolo

The photo above is graphic evidence of why I invested in a pair of good boots a couple of months ago. When I go out to help Anthony and Carol Boutard of Ayers Creek Farm (see post below) get ready for the Hillsdale Farmers' Market, these come in mighty handy in the muddy, wet fields while harvesting mustard greens, cabbage and chicory (below left) or picking baby broccoli and arugula for our lunch.

The snug stock keeps rain from seeping down my pants legs and into my socks, and the padded, insulated shoe keeps my toes snug as bugs. They're even comfortable enough to wear while tromping a couple of miles around our neighborhood with Walker. And when a street drain gets clogged and it's time to clear the lake that forms around it, I can wade right in without a care.

Now to find some rain pants that will be equally worthy…