<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?><rss version="2.0"><channel><title>Farm to Fork</title><description>Bringing local eating home</description><link>
          http://blogs.taunton.com/fc-farmtofork</link><pubDate>Sat, 21 Nov 2009 19:42:44 GMT</pubDate><generator>Prospero Technologies Active Content</generator><item><title>Turkey Quest</title><description>&lt;P&gt;&lt;EM&gt;Posted by Sarah Breckenridge&lt;/EM&gt;&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;I’m no football fan, but a few weeks ago, I went through an ordeal that I’d imagine was a bit akin to getting Super Bowl tickets. Except I was ordering my Thanksgiving turkey.&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;Not just any turkey, mind you. After years of indoctrination by Slow Food, I’d decided that this year, I was going to serve a heritage turkey on my Thanksgiving table. &lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;A little background: More than 99% of all the turkeys sold in U.S. supermarkets are of one breed: the Broad-Breasted White. The breed has been fine-tuned to deliver lots of the white meat that Americans love, but they’re not the most flavorful birds. So some farmers have dedicated themselves to raising and preserving breeds, like the Bourbon Red, that were common in America before the turkey industry became, well, an industry. These breeds are said to have the flavor that the standard turkeys notoriously lack. &lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;But I wanted to taste for myself, so I set about looking for my own heritage turkey. &lt;A href="http://www.slowfoodusa.org/" target="_blank"&gt;Slow Food&lt;/A&gt; and &lt;A href="http://www.localharvest.org/" target="_blank"&gt;LocalHarvest.org&lt;/A&gt; all have helpful links to heritage-breed farmers, but I soon discovered that, in September, I was already too late. Farmers near me were all sold out; with some, I would have had to put a deposit down back in the spring (who has their Thanksgiving plans in place in April?). Mail-order was an option, but I figured having a turkey shipped long-distance sort of defeated the whole philosophy of slow, local food.&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;So finally, I took the (relatively) easy way out: buying through &lt;A href="http://www.stonebarnscenter.org" target="_blank"&gt;Stone Barns Center for Food and Agriculture&lt;/A&gt;, a non-profit educational farm in the Hudson Valley (close enough to count as local). Still, the buying process smacked of the absurd. I’d gotten an email earlier in the month to alert me that sales would start September 22, and I put a reminder on my calendar: Order turkey from Stone Barns!&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;At 9 am sharp, I called the turkey hotline, only to get voicemail. Had I already missed my window? Had the birds all sold out to Stone Barns members, who get a chance to buy early? I left my name and number, and later in the day my call was returned. I put down a deposit on the turkey (yeah, I never thought I’d write that sentence either), and was instructed to pick up the bird at Stone Barns between 3 and 3:30 pm the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. &lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;So now an 8-lb. Bourbon Red and I have a date with destiny. Will it be worth all the effort? I certainly hope so. Stay tuned. &lt;/P&gt;</description><link>http://blogs.taunton.com/fc-farmtofork?entry=70</link><category>Farm-Share Program</category><guid isPermaLink="true">http://blogs.taunton.com/fc-farmtofork?entry=70</guid><pubDate>Tue, 11 Nov 2008 15:40:14 GMT</pubDate></item><item><title>The Fruits of Fall</title><description>&lt;P&gt;&lt;EM&gt;Posted by Sarah Breckenridge&lt;/EM&gt;&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;&lt;/P&gt;I've mentioned before that the one thing missing from my CSA is fruit (well, &lt;A href="http://blogs.taunton.com/n/blogs/blog.aspx?nav=main&amp;amp;webtag=fc-farmtofork&amp;amp;entry=41" target="_blank"&gt;except melon&lt;/A&gt;). Over the summer, we've indulged our sweet tooth (sweet teeth?) with berries, peaches, and plums from the farmer's market, farm stands, and local orchards. But after a month of traveling and busy weekend schedules, we had our first real fall experience at the farmer's market last weekend. Concord grapes were everywhere, and we even caught the end of the black mission figs. We brought home pints of each and have been going crazy with our haul ever since. To wit: 
&lt;TABLE cellSpacing="2" cellPadding="0" width="90%" align="center" border="0"&gt;
&lt;TBODY&gt;
&lt;TR&gt;
&lt;TD width="40%"&gt;&lt;FONT size="2"&gt;&lt;IMG style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 5px 0px 0px" alt="" src="http://images.taunton.com/Blogs/FC/FFFigPizza2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/TD&gt;
&lt;TD width="20%"&gt;&lt;FONT size="2"&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/TD&gt;
&lt;TD&gt;&lt;FONT size="2"&gt;&lt;IMG style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 5px 0px 0px" alt="" src="http://images.taunton.com/Blogs/FC/FFGrapeFocacciaWhole.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;/TR&gt;
&lt;TR&gt;
&lt;TD vAlign="top" width="40%"&gt;&lt;FONT size="2"&gt;Fig, Arugula &amp;amp; Goat Cheese Pizza&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/TD&gt;
&lt;TD width="20%"&gt;&lt;/TD&gt;
&lt;TD vAlign="top"&gt;&lt;FONT size="2"&gt;Concord Grape Focaccia&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/TD&gt;&lt;/TR&gt;&lt;/TBODY&gt;&lt;/TABLE&gt;
&lt;P&gt; &lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;And my favorite, which marries the two, &lt;STRONG&gt;Concord Grape and Fig Clafouti,&lt;/STRONG&gt; adapted from Claudia Fleming's cookbook, &lt;A href="http://www.amazon.com/Last-Course-Desserts-Gramercy-Tavern/dp/037550429X" target="_blank"&gt;The Last Course&lt;/A&gt;.&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;&lt;IMG alt="" style="FLOAT: right" src="http://images.taunton.com/Blogs/FC/FFFigClafoutis.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;Serves 6 to 8&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;4 large eggs&lt;BR /&gt;1/2 cup whole milk&lt;BR /&gt;1/2 cup heavy cream&lt;BR /&gt;3/4 cup plus 2 Tbs. granulated sugar&lt;BR /&gt;1 tsp. vanilla extract&lt;BR /&gt;Pinch of salt&lt;BR /&gt;1/4 cup all-purpose flour&lt;BR /&gt;1 Tbs. unsalted butter, melted&lt;BR /&gt;9 fresh figs, halved lengthwise&lt;BR /&gt;1/2 cup Concord grapes, seeded&lt;BR /&gt;&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;In a blender, place the eggs, milk, cream, 3/4 cup of the sugar, the vanilla extract, and salt. Blend the mixture until it is very smooth, about 30 seconds. Add the flour and blend until well-combined. Strain the batter through a fine sieve, then let it rest for 30 minutes at room temperature.&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;Heat the oven to 400°F. Brush a 9-inch quiche plate with the melted butter and sprinkle with the remaining 2 Tbs. of sugar. Arrange the figs and the grapes in the quiche plate, and pour the batter over the fruit. Bake the clafouti for 15 minutes, then lower the heat to 375°F, and bake until the center is just set, 10 to 12 minutes. &lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;AND we still have grapes and figs left. Any suggestions for the rest? &lt;/P&gt;</description><link>http://blogs.taunton.com/fc-farmtofork?entry=61</link><category>Farm-Share Program</category><guid isPermaLink="true">http://blogs.taunton.com/fc-farmtofork?entry=61</guid><pubDate>Wed, 15 Oct 2008 20:13:40 GMT</pubDate></item><item><title>Summer Squash, Just In Time for Fall</title><description>&lt;P&gt;&lt;EM&gt;Posted by Sarah Breckenridge&lt;/EM&gt;&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;It's a cliche of New England gardening that late summer equals drowning in zucchini—there are all the jokes about trying to surreptitiously unload a bounty of zucchini onto neighbors, or turning the squash into everything from bread to cookies. Well, this summer has been strangely zucchini-less for me and my fellow members of the Sport Hill Farm CSA. &lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;Things started well around May, and we were getting as many as five fruits a week. But then, says Patti, the bugs got to the crop, and we've seen nary a squash since about June. Finally, this week they made a reappearance: one small green squash and one small yellow one. And boy was I ready. Since I'd been expecting an onslaught, I've been fantasizing all summer about what to make with zucchini. Last night, I hollowed out zucchini canoes and stuffed them with a mixture of ground lamb, chopped mint, and feta, flavors perhaps more suited for high summer, but hey, better late then never.&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;Ironically, the first winter squash also showed up in this week's share—two tiny butternuts, which Patti said she'd had to pick a little early because of, yep, the bugs. I think these guys are the perfect size for stuffing too—but that's a story for another day.&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;&lt;STRONG&gt;&lt;IMG style="FLOAT: right" alt="" src="http://images.taunton.com/Blogs/FC/FFStuffedZucchini1.jpg" /&gt;Zucchini Stuffed with Lamb, Feta and Mint&lt;/STRONG&gt;&lt;BR /&gt;Serves four.&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;2 small-to-medium zucchini, halved lengthwise&lt;BR /&gt;Kosher salt&lt;BR /&gt;1 Tbs. olive oil&lt;BR /&gt;1 small onion, diced&lt;BR /&gt;1/2 lb. ground lamb&lt;BR /&gt;2 Tbs. plain dry breadcrumbs&lt;BR /&gt;Pinch of ground cumin&lt;BR /&gt;Pinch of ground coriander&lt;BR /&gt;freshly ground pepper&lt;BR /&gt;3 oz. feta, crumbled&lt;BR /&gt;2 Tbs. chopped fresh mint, more for garnish&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;&lt;BR /&gt;Scoop out the seeded flesh from each zucchini half. Sprinkle the insides of the zucchini shells with kosher salt, turn them upside down, and let them drain for 15 minutes. Heat the oven to 375°F. &lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;Turn the zucchini right side up, place on a baking sheet, and bake for 15 minutes. Meanwhile, heat the olive oil in a medium skillet over medium high heat. Add the onion and saute until just softened. Add the lamb and cook until browned. Add bread crumbs, cumin and coriander, and season to taste with salt and pepper. Remove from the heat and stir in the feta and chopped mint. &lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;Mound the ground lamb mixture into the zucchini boats, and return them to the oven. Bake until the filling is just browned on top and the zucchini are completely tender, about 20 minutes more. Sprinkle with a little chopped fresh mint.&lt;BR /&gt;&lt;/P&gt;</description><link>http://blogs.taunton.com/fc-farmtofork?entry=55</link><category>Farm-Share Program|Recipe</category><guid isPermaLink="true">http://blogs.taunton.com/fc-farmtofork?entry=55</guid><pubDate>Wed, 24 Sep 2008 14:57:38 GMT</pubDate></item><item><title>The Light in the Pizza</title><description>&lt;I&gt;Posted by Sarah Breckenridge&lt;/I&gt;&lt;BR /&gt;&lt;BR /&gt;Cooking from the CSA at this time of year is odd. The tomatoes and eggplants are still going strong, but the salad greens, chard and cabbage are starting to make a resurgence. So our dinners have a weird schizophrenic quality: last night we had a lush panzanella with heirloom tomatoes and basil,  tonight, the chill in the air got me thinking in more of a fall direction. &lt;BR /&gt;&lt;BR /&gt;Earlier this summer, I was trying to come up with a &lt;A href="http://blogs.taunton.com/n/blogs/blog.aspx?nav=main&amp;amp;webtag=fc-farmtofork&amp;amp;entry=27" target="_blank"&gt;summery preparation for cabbage&lt;/A&gt;, but now is the time to embrace its wonderful affinity for bacon. And since I’ve been grilling pizza all summer to avoid turning on my oven, when trying to come up with a dinner idea I quickly thought of tarte flambée, the Alsatian flame-grilled tart of onions and bacon. Cabbage isn't a traditional topping, though it's very much a part of Alsatian cuisine. The sweetness of leeks and cabbage make a terrific foil to the salty, smoky bacon, and the whole dish reminds you that, though the days are still hot, fall is on the way. &lt;BR /&gt;&lt;BR /&gt;&lt;BR /&gt;&lt;STRONG&gt;&lt;IMG style="FLOAT: right" alt="" src="http://images.taunton.com/Blogs/FC/FFpizza.jpg" /&gt;Tarte Flambée with Melted Leeks and Cabbage&lt;/STRONG&gt;&lt;BR /&gt;Serves two.&lt;BR /&gt;&lt;BR /&gt;1/2 lb. pizza dough (&lt;A href="http://www.taunton.com/finecooking/recipes/pizza-dough.aspx" target="_blank"&gt;homemade&lt;/A&gt; or store-bought)&lt;BR /&gt;3 strips thick-cut bacon&lt;BR /&gt;3 medium leeks, white and light-green parts only, sliced into thin half-moons&lt;BR /&gt;1 small head green cabbage, quartered, cored and sliced into thin strips&lt;BR /&gt;Salt and freshly ground pepper&lt;BR /&gt;All-purpose flour, for dusting&lt;BR /&gt;vegetable oil, for brushing the grill&lt;BR /&gt;2 Tbs. crème fraîche&lt;BR /&gt;&lt;BR /&gt;Shape the pizza dough into a ball and let it proof at room temperature while you make the topping. &lt;BR /&gt;&lt;BR /&gt;In a large skillet, cook the bacon over medium heat until it’s crisp. Transfer the bacon to a paper towel-lined plate to drain. Reserve the bacon fat in the skillet. Add the leeks to the skillet, season with a pinch of salt, and cook until fragrant and just softened, about 1 minute. Add the cabbage to the skillet,  lower the heat to medium low, and cook, partially covered, until the cabbage and leeks are completely soft and the leeks are just turning golden-brown, about 7 to 9 minutes. Season to taste with salt and pepper.&lt;BR /&gt;&lt;BR /&gt;Heat a gas grill to medium heat. Dust your hands with flour and stretch the pizza dough into a roughly 12-inch round.  If the dough becomes resistant, let it rest on a lightly floured surface for about 10 minutes before stretching further.  Cut the bacon crosswise into 1/4-inch strips.&lt;BR /&gt;&lt;BR /&gt;Brush the grill grates with oil. Place the pizza dough directly on the grates, making sure it’s flat on the grill. Cover and cook until the bottom has nice grill marks, about 5-7 minutes. Flip the crust and cook until just golden-brown on the other side, about 5 minutes more. &lt;BR /&gt;&lt;BR /&gt;Flip the pizza crust back to its first side, spread the crust with the crème fraîche, followed by the cabbage mixture. Sprinkle with the chopped bacon. Lower the heat to low, cover the grill, and cook until everything is warmed through, about 5 minutes more. Slice the tart into wedges and serve.&lt;BR /&gt;&lt;BR /&gt;</description><link>http://blogs.taunton.com/fc-farmtofork?entry=50</link><category>Farm-Share Program|Recipe</category><guid isPermaLink="true">http://blogs.taunton.com/fc-farmtofork?entry=50</guid><pubDate>Thu, 11 Sep 2008 01:48:14 GMT</pubDate></item><item><title>Off the Cob</title><description>&lt;P&gt;&lt;EM&gt;Posted Sarah Breckenridge&lt;/EM&gt;&lt;BR /&gt;&lt;BR /&gt;Since the height of summer, I've been enjoying fresh corn in my CSA share every other week, even though Patti doesn't grow the corn itself. Instead, she trades with a neighboring farm so that her CSA members get one of summer's essential vegetables.&lt;BR /&gt;&lt;BR /&gt;This corn is a far cry from what you find at the supermarket—full of real corn-y flavor, but it's not one of those super-sweet hybrids that stays improbably sweet for days on end. In fact, on pick-up days I've taken to blanching and refrigerating whatever corn we won't eat that night, to freeze or use later in the week.&lt;BR /&gt;&lt;BR /&gt;But last week I was inspired by &lt;A href="http://bitten.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/08/19/grilling-corn/" target="_blank"&gt;Mark Bittman's blog&lt;/A&gt; to try a new cooking method for all that corn: &lt;A href="http://www.taunton.com/finecooking/recipes/grilled-corn-cob-thyme-roasted-red-pepper-butter.aspx" target="_blank"&gt;grilling&lt;/A&gt;. Sure, I'd grilled corn on the cob before, but usually just enough for one meal. Bittman, on the other hand, has several &lt;A href="http://bitten.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/08/20/and-now-the-leftovers/#more-443" target="_blank"&gt;good ideas for using leftovers&lt;/A&gt;, including corn fritters. His version is meant to evoke Thai flavors, but I wanted my corn pancakes to have all the hallmarks of &lt;EM&gt;elote&lt;/EM&gt;, that delicious grilled corn on the cob sold by Mexican street vendors and slathered in lime, cayenne, and cotija cheese (or in my case, feta, since that's what I happened to have in the fridge).&lt;BR /&gt;&lt;BR /&gt;I was pretty happy with the results, although I would have liked them a bit crisper. I think I may try using all flour next time instead of Bittman's cornmeal-flour blend. With all those grilled kernels, these pancakes were plenty corny as it is. &lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;&lt;STRONG&gt;&lt;IMG style="FLOAT: right" alt="" src="http://images.taunton.com/Blogs/FC/FFCornPancakeslarge.jpg" /&gt;Mexican Grilled-Corn Pancakes&lt;/STRONG&gt;&lt;BR /&gt;&lt;EM&gt;Yields about six 4-inch pancakes&lt;BR /&gt;&lt;/EM&gt;BTW: Since the eggs from my CSA are unusual sizes, a small one was the perfect amount for this recipe. If you only have large eggs, use half of a beaten egg, or use a whole egg and double the rest of the ingredients.&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;1/4 cup cornmeal&lt;BR /&gt;1/4 cup flour&lt;BR /&gt;Salt and freshly ground black pepper&lt;BR /&gt;2 cups grilled corn kernels&lt;BR /&gt;1 small garlic clove, smashed&lt;BR /&gt;1 small egg&lt;BR /&gt;1 lime&lt;BR /&gt;1/2 minced serrano&lt;BR /&gt;vegetable oil, for cooking&lt;BR /&gt;1 Tbs. butter, melted&lt;BR /&gt;cayenne pepper&lt;BR /&gt;1/3 cup crumbled cotija or feta cheese&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;In a medium bowl, whisk together the cornmeal, flour, 1/2 tsp. salt and a few grinds of pepper. Put 1 cup of the corn kernels, the egg, garlic clove, and juice from half of the lime in the carafe of a blender. Blend until the mixture is a thick puree (not perfectly smooth).&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;Add the puree, minced serrano, and the remaining 1 cup of corn kernels into the dry ingredients. Stir until just combined. Heat a cast-iron griddle to medium heat and oil it well. Drop roughly 1/4-cup spoonfuls of the batter onto the griddle and cook, turning once, until golden-brown on both sides. Transfer pancakes to a platter, brush with melted butter, and sprinkle with cheese and cayenne. Cut the remaining lime half into wedges and serve the pancakes with lime wedges on the side. &lt;/P&gt;</description><link>http://blogs.taunton.com/fc-farmtofork?entry=44</link><category>Farm-Share Program|Recipe</category><guid isPermaLink="true">http://blogs.taunton.com/fc-farmtofork?entry=44</guid><pubDate>Wed, 27 Aug 2008 19:25:03 GMT</pubDate></item></channel></rss>