Rancho Gordo beans

Jeremy and I are true nerds. In early June, we celebrated our 10th anniversary (of dating, not marriage). What did we get as presents? Jewelry? A travel package to somewhere fun? Fancy dinner out at a restaurant? Nope. Beans.

Months ago, Jeremy bought this issue of Savuer magazine at the Atlanta airport, and we've been loving it ever since. They hailed Rancho Gordo as this fabulous heirloom bean-town, and after reading the descriptions of their merchandise, I knew that we were getting beans this year. They're not cheap at $5 a pound, but damn, they're worth it. I selected four types as a surprise for Jeremy: the borlotti, yellow-eye peas, scarlet runner beans and cranberry beans. Aren't they BEAUTIFUL???????



We used the scarlet runner beans first. The package instructed us to soak them overnight, but we soaked those damn things overnight, boiled them for nearly three hours with beer (the epazote smelled too much like burnt tires for us to ruin the beans), soaked them for two more days and boiled them another two hours. After all this, each bean is as big as your knuckle. The skin was starting to burst open, and the meat didn't have a particularly nice flavor. We made this bean salad:



Initially the salad was just okay, but the longer the beans sat in the frig, they better they tasted.
Next came this soup, a basic pasta fazool, and dear god, it was soooooo good. My only complaint was the pasta, which expanded to gigantic proportions, sucked up all the liquid and eventually disintegrated into the soup.


More beans are soaking today so we can try this recipe for curry beans.

Beans....the perfect anniversary gift!!

Scallion chickpea wraps with tofu and veggies

This recipe is god knows where...but here's a pretty picture.

Apricot Rhurbarb Crisp

The above arpicots were on there way to become yet more compote, but I really wanted to tell you about the wonderful dessert that their sibling fruit joined.

This was another occasion where we let the internet provide a recipe to conform to our desires and ingredients. With an abundance of rhubarb and apricots to use up/savor our friends at food network provided this recipe, that with a couple minor subsitutions (apricots and a couple of spare mangos for peaches, and shortening for lard) became one of the most delicious dishes of early summer. It's really closer to a broken pie than a traditional cobbler, but so so tasty, and the lime zest in the dough brlliantly sets off the fruit around it.

The ever-changing Farmer's Market

It's amazing what a few weeks can do for summer produce. A few weeks back, the most we could get from the local veggies were lettuce, spinach and a few scallions. Everything else was shipped here from somewhere else (although those were some tasty damn apricots.)

A week later we have rhubarb, chard, and the very beginning of peas and strawberries (the berries were $5 a pint, so we didn't buy any....that's why they're not pictured here.)

Now it's almost too hot for spinach, and the lettuce looks all wilty and sad. The asparagus is also finished (these were shipped from Washington), but we've got onions, beets, zuccini, radishes, herbs, more peas, kohlrabi (not shown), berries and tiny baby potatoes.

Every week we go on either Saturday or Sunday morning to buy the weeks' produce. We base our menus on what we can find, and supplement the veggies with a co-op run. After breakfast, one of us washes everything we've purchased in Veggie-Wash and dries them on the table before they move to the frig. It's amazing how much gunk is on the produce...and this is just after the lettuce....

We need to be better about washing the produce that comes from the grocery store...that has even more wax, dirt, fingergerms and god knows what else on it after living in trucks and boxes for weeks.

Rhubarb cobbler, three photos

One of the very best things about summer is rhubarb. There are 60 types of rhubarb, although the most common is Garden Rhubarb. Indigenous to Asian and coming to America in the 1820's, rhubarb is not only delicious, but a stong laxative. (Hooray, regularity!)

I found this recipe in a newspaper. Growing up, we had rhubarb pie and cake only. Cobblers always seem alluring, but I ultimately find them disappointing because they have too much crust. We were out of AP flour, so I tried substituting whole wheat, and while the resulting topping was no doubt marginally healthier, it was not tasty enough to make it worth it. Not only that, but this particular batch of rhubarb was still it was juicy as hell. A few weeks later, we used this recipe for another cobbler, and found it much tastier.

JUICY!

Heaven.....

A Weekend of Sauces

Julie went home for Memorial Day weekend while I stayed to write, and I felt compelled (compelled, I tell you!) to make some sauce based on seasonal imported produce, and then Julie return with some seasonal local produce and yet another sauce was born. Here they sit, proudly, on top of ice cream.

Sauce the First: Lemon Curd

Lemons have been showing up plentifully from the resellers at the farmers market, but they don't last long, so they must be put to use quickly. Lemon curd is delicious, and Julie has often said that we should try making some, so try I did! I hunted around and eventually settled on this recipe, that its author describes as foolproof. I'd like to think that I didn't fully put it to the test, but I managed not to fool it up. I added a lot more zest than the recipe calls for, but otherwise left it alone. The result is rich but light in texture, and with a brighter lemon flavor than some of the more yolk intensive versions I've had. The texture is great, but there's a slight hint of egg white flavor to it that bothers me a little bit, so if I made it again, maybe I'd drop one or two of those. It's quite decadent with ice cream or yogurt. I had some this morning on french toast that Julie made and, at her brilliant suggestion sprinkled some toasted walnut pieces over it. So damn good.

Sauce the Second: Aprium Lavender Compote

Apparently aprium season came early this year, because we've had a big bunch of them in the markets lately. I have to say, for eating fresh I find them extremely disappointing: pretty apricot shaped fruit with less flavorful plumlike flavor and somewhat mealy texture inside. The best thing you can say about them is that they're not as intensely tart as many apricots are, but then also blander. Cooked up into sauce, though the texture becomes nice and meaty and the flavor deepens. I very much wanted to try another recipe from Clotilde Dusoulier's book Chocolate and Zucchini, and while Julie is iffy on the whole eating flowers thing she's game to try.

What you do is halve and depit two pound of apricots/apriums (any smallish stone fruit will work). Melt two tablespoons of butter in a large nonstick skillet over medium heat, then sprinkle two tablespoons of sugar over it and allow it to brown for a few minutes, stirring a couple times to distribute. Place the aprium halves, cut side down around the skillet and allow them to cook undisturbed for about five minutes, until they've given up a good amount of juice. Carefully remove the fruit, leaving as much of the liquid behind as possible. Sprinkle two teaspoons of edible lavender buds (available in co-ops) over the juice and cook the whole thing down over medium-low heat to a think syrup, stirring occasionally. If you're feeling especially lavendery, you can leave the buds in, but I strained them out and returned the syrup to the pan along with the reserved fruit. Combine and heat through. I liked it, especially on pancakes, but Julie was still found flower eating too perfumey, so we made a second batch without lavender.

Sauce the Third: Rhubarb Sauce

Even before Julie brought some gorgeous rhubarb back from Wisconsin and her generous childhood neighbor Lorraine, we managed to piece some together from the farmers market and the plant we put in last year in my mom's garden. Normally all you do is combine chopped rhubarb with sugar to taste and allow it to cook down. This time though, either we accidentally slipped some salt in or perhaps some of the rhubarb was grown in a brackish marsh, either way, the flavor was somewhat off and we added various and sundry things to try and make it good (Julie even wanted to add some rose water before I reminded her that she doesn't like that). Eventually it was Alright, and Julie is gamely continuing to eat it up. Sure is pretty though.

Asparagus Lemon Risotto

Yeah, it's a lot of green on the plate, but this was actually a very complex and tasty risotto. The lemon, the parmesan, the asparagus and the creaminess of the rice, all played nicely against each other. It was nice to have fresh spinach again, but it was a bit tough and was really just something extra on the plate. Oh well, tastier clorophyll next time.

The original recipe is from here (but that requires some sort of registration, so here's a loose web version), but we've tweaked it ever so slightly, so here's our version.

Asparagus-Lemon Risotto

1 lb asparagus spears
3 T olive oil
salt and pepper
1 medium onion, diced
2 shallots, diced
3 cloves garlic, diced
1 cup Arborio or other short-grained rice
3 cups vegetable broth
1/3 cup grated parmesean
1 t freshly grated lemon zest
1 T fresh lemon juice

Trim the asparagus and divide it between two baking sheets. Leave one third whole and cut the other two thirds into two inch segments. Drizzle one tablespoon of the olive oil over the asparagus and season with salt and pepper. Bake in a 450˚ oven for 10 minutes, tossing a couple of times until crisp-tender.

Bring the stock to a low simmer and keep it there. Heat the remaining two tablespoons of oil over medium heat and add the onion. Saute until the onions are translucent and add the shallots and garlic. Saute one or two minutes more until they soften and add the rice, stirring to coat. Cook stirring for another few minutes until the rice is golden brown. Add the first cup of broth and carefuly stir it into the rice until it is almost entirely absorbed. Work more of the stock in half a cup at a time, stirring, until the rice becomes toothy but soft and the sauce creamy. Stir in the cheese, the lemon juice and zest, then stir in the cut asparagus. Taste for seasoning and add additional salt and pepper as needed. Serve immediately and top with the full asparagus stalks. Tastes like Spring.