Farm to Fork

Still Growing

Wed, 03 Dec 2008 21:00:47 GMT

Posted by Susie Middleton

Like the Energizer Bunny, some vegetables keep right on going, against all odds. Freezing cold, biting wind, no matter. Those tasty cruciferous vegetables like broccoli, kale, and Brussels sprouts love that stuff. So even though winter has finally arrived on the island, there are still plenty of fresh, local vegetables around.

I took a spin through Morning Glory Farm’s fields the other day and noticed that this fall’s broccoli planting is now under row cover—those polypropylene blankets that Maryellen laid down on her upstate New York farm as long ago as early October.

Another field looked like a Dr. Seuss landscape—row after row of knobby, gangly Brussels sprouts plants. This wasn’t a pretty sight until I got up close and noticed that some of the sprouts were tinged with a lovely lavender color (photo). I assumed they were kissed by frost, but I’ve since discovered that there are purple sprout varieties. A good one is called Falstaff.

I can eat Brussels sprouts any day, but lately I’ve been thinking about my Christmas dinner menu. (Well, truthfully, since I created a holiday menu (“A Modern Christmas” ) for Fine Cooking this year, and since I’ll be answering your holiday questions online in a few weeks, I’ve been thinking a little too much about Christmas dinner). Anyway, I thought Brussels sprouts would be a good local addition.

Last night I made a dish that’d be perfect for the holidays. It’s even red and green. I used my quick-braising method, starting with about a half-pound of Brussels sprouts, cut in half, and one Honey Crisp apple, cut into chunks. I used chicken broth and local apple cider for the braising liquid and finished the dish with a bit of butter, a drizzle of local honey, and a touch of vinegar. And since I’m still trying to use those darn hickory nuts I’ve got, I garnished the dish with some of them. I’ve discovered, after literally breaking a nut cracker and the tip of a paring knife, that a sledge hammer works best for cracking. (Put the nuts under a towel first.) I hate to say it, but you might want to use walnuts or pecans (local or not) in your version.

Apple Tart, Locavore Style

Mon, 24 Nov 2008 21:40:21 GMT

Posted by Susie Middleton

I see a pretty apple, I buy it. Not several, just one. Lately, I’ve been collecting local apples, taking pictures of them and then adding them to a growing arrangement on my dining room table. Yeah, occasionally I actually eat one, too. But this morning I looked at the whole lot of them and thought: apple tart.

It occurred to me that for anyone who wants to add some local food to the Thanksgiving table, apples are a great bet since they grow everywhere. And just on the Fine Cooking website alone, there are dozens of killer apple desserts and pies (and I know, I’ve tasted almost all of them at some time or another). But I tend to get stuck on one thing I really like, so this morning I decided on an apple galette (also called a rustic fruit tart). I first learned to make these free-form tarts when I was a cook at Al Forno Restaurant in Providence, Rhode Island, years ago, but I’ve come to really like pastry chef Joanne Chang’s method, because her dough is easy to handle and holds up well in the oven. I do make my dough in the food processor, though, rather than the stand mixer, as it cuts the butter in more evenly and makes a flakier crust.

This weekend someone gave me a bunch of wild hickory nuts, so I wanted to incorporate them into my tart. At first I bashed away at them with a heavy frying pan, picking pieces of shell out of the sugar bowl and off my sweater. Then I got smart and went online. I discovered you have to soak them in hot water before trying to crack them. That worked, but I still had to nudge the nut meat out of the shell with a paring knife.

I added some of the nuts (finely chopped) to the dough and mixed the rest with the sugar I sprinkled on top of the tart. For the apple filling, I used the Jonagold, the Macoun, and a new variety called a Yataka Fuji. When the tart came out of the oven, I waited (not very patiently) for it to cool, and then cut a slice. It was awesome, the crust super-flaky. I think it was one of the best galettes I’ve ever made. But then again, with apples, butter, honey, cinnamon, nuts…it’s hard to go wrong. If you want to make one of these for Thanksgiving, the dough can be made ahead and refrigerated.

Fair or Fowl: More turkey questing

Mon, 17 Nov 2008 21:27:51 GMT

Posted by Susie Middleton

Turkeys are now officially my least favorite farm animal. This cutie (at right) pecked me twice while I was trying to take his picture. I guess I deserved it, because I was awfully close and I didn’t have any food for him. I was simply trying to be a good blogger and track down the freshest turkey on Martha’s Vineyard. And I found them. I mean him.

When Sarah and I chatted about her turkey quest a few weeks ago, I told her I’d been surprised to learn that no one out here was yet raising turkeys—heritage or otherwise. But it got me wondering what people would do if they really wanted a local bird for Thanksgiving. So I went on a quest, too.

At first I thought at least some people must be eating wild turkeys, as they’re everywhere out here. I was right: they’re eating them, only not legally. So I can’t tell you some of the hilarious ways people dispatch these not-so-smart, overly aggressive birds that wander into their yards. But I can tell you that one up-island acquaintance recently dressed a wild turkey that had been hit by a car but not badly damaged. (Don’t laugh! Roadkill is a very efficient way to eat local.) Everyone I talked to had a different solution for tenderizing these notoriously leathery fowl; I thought slow-smoking sounded the most appealing.

Realizing that wild turkeys probably weren’t going to be the centerpiece of most Vineyard thanksgiving tables, I asked farmer Jim Athearn what he’d be selling at Morning Glory Farm. I was relieved to hear that he brings in birds from Bongi Turkey Farm in Duxbury, Mass., so with a simple pre-order, anyone on the island can have a fresh turkey. But Jim also told me that there was, in fact, one small flock of meat birds over at the FARM Institute.

So when I pulled in there today, I was elated to see three beautiful white Royal Palm turkeys (at left) splashing in the puddles. But these friendly guys turned out just to be residents. A smaller, ornamental breed that’s on Slow Food’s list of disappearing foods, the Royal Palm is apparently very tasty, but right now the FARM only has three of them.

Soon enough I spotted the meat birds over in the barnyard. These characters, a breed called Broad-Breasted Bronze, have the coloring of wild turkeys but the broad breasts of their widely grown commercial cousins. They were already all spoken for. All, that is, except a couple of 32-pounders. I’m sorry to say I won’t be on-island for Thanksgiving, because there’s one particular 32-pounder I wouldn’t mind stuffing.

Sweet on Scallops

Mon, 10 Nov 2008 22:49:31 GMT

Posted by Susie Middleton

If you happen to eat a bay scallop today in New York City or Boston, most likely it was harvested yesterday on Martha’s Vineyard. Because according to the word on the street (or the docks), Nantucket’s scalloping season is off to a slow start, but so far, things are looking good on the Vineyard. And these two islands are the last places on the East Coast where the delicate little bay scallop is really thriving.

The pond I live near—which is famous for its cameo in a scene of Jaws—is particularly well-stocked with scallops. On my afternoon walks to the beach, I cross over that inlet and occasionally I glimpse the scallopers at work. Yesterday, I’d hoped to catch up with one, but my timing was off. There were just lots of empty, shucked shells everywhere (like the ones below), picked clean by the gulls. I love those shells, am completely charmed by their colors and shapes. So I stuffed a couple in my pockets to add to my collection. But I wanted more. I had a craving for the sweet stuff that comes inside the shell.

So I broke down and went to the seafood store and plunked down $20 a pound for my dinner. (A fresh bushel had just come in.) Yeah, ouch. No telling what these beauties (below right) are fetching in New York. Are they worth it? I think so, but then again, I’m a shellfish nut. Bay scallops are sweet and tender, more delicate than their meatier big brother, the sea scallop.

Because of that delicate constitution, it’s best to be gentle with them. Searing a bay scallop would rough it up. Instead I make a little brown butter in a skillet, and sort of shallow-poach the scallops in it. Last night I added some fresh corn, and instead of lemon, a little lime zest and juice, and a very small amount of grated fresh ginger. I did manage to get them out of the skillet and onto the plate, but I’m afraid my fork got to them before they made it to the table.

Sheep-ish

Mon, 03 Nov 2008 22:05:05 GMT

Posted by Susie Middleton

Late Saturday afternoon, I was over at Thompson Farm feeding the pigs, who were only too happy to devour the remains of my potato and gruyere cheese gratins—the final recipe tests for my book. Jelly Bean did a head-butt on Harley to get to the crumb-topped potatoes, ignoring the green peppers and arugula I’d also brought. Laughing, I was about to hop back in my car, when I heard Liz, my farmer friend, call my name. She was at the end of the driveway with her daughter Lucy.

“Hey, Susie, come move the sheep with us,” she said, as she opened the wooden gate and started shaking a bucket of food. I walked down in time to get out of the way of a skipping, hopping, jostling stampede of sheep and goats. Buddy the Border collie and I brought up the rear as the last little black ewe straggled up the road and into the barnyard. Lucy shut the gate and went to give Susie, her favorite sheep, a hug. (That’s her name. Really.)

“Tomorrow morning we’re shearing, so you should come by. It’s so cool. You’ll love it,” Liz said. Well, I’m not exactly on farmer hours, but I wasn’t about to miss this. I’m in awe of what it takes to run a farm and often wonder if I could care for animals the way Liz does.

I arrived at the barn Sunday morning and met Andy Rice, a.k.a. The Sheep Whisperer. Andy is quite a character, well-known all over New England, where he travels to farms full-time shearing sheep. (Watch him at work on this video). Despite his big personality, he is calming and gentle with the sheep, who don’t struggle when he holds them (see photo, at left).

He and Liz got in sync quickly. Liz would pull a sheep from the corral, check its fleece, and pass it to Andy, who’d first give it a de-worming shot and then clip its hooves if necessary. Afterwards, Liz kicked most of the gals out into the barnyard for a date with Snowball the ram, whose lucky day had come. The new lambs will arrive in March. But another group of sheep went back to a corral. Some were too young to breed, and some, as Liz bemoaned, were destined for the stew pot.

How does she deal with that? “You never really get used to it,” she told me. “My Dad’s been raising cattle for years, and he still can’t eat his own meat. But I tell the kids it’s our contribution to keeping the farm viable financially. We have to do it.” She and Lucy try not to name the sheep they won’t keep. Whew. That means Susie’s probably safe. And maybe there will be a little Susie or two come March.