The Simple Life

Haven't been cooking much, since much doesn't need cooking.

Beetzza

I just returned from a brief trip east, undertaken in part to see long-neglected friends, spend time with my little sister, go on much-delayed adventures, and finish up that Master's degree I've been paying for, but primarily to make a beet-goat cheese pie that's been over a year in planning.

And by pie, it turned out we meant pizza pie. Which, of course, called for a pizza party.

My bosom friend Barbara and I made a lot of pizza doughs (Smitten Kitchen's recipe x16), bought way too much cheese and one very large can of tomatoes at Claudio's (which got smushed and mixed with garlic, olive oil, and basil), turned up the oven to 500°F, and invited over a bunch of folks with the instructions to bring either pizza toppings or beer.

And people brought such good things! Peppers, mushrooms, asparagus, prosciutto, homemade pepperoni... there was no overlap and an abundance of everything. And everyone got a chance to do a little baking (that's everyone's favorite part of a party, right? Not just me?) and sharing and eating.

For our contribution, we caramelized an onion, boiled and sliced a bunch of beets, crumbled some goat cheese, artistically (or perhaps the more accurate term would be drunkenly) layered it all on a pizza crust, and baked it for about 15 minutes.

It was so damn good.

What I Did During My Summer Vacation

Life and cooking have had their ups and downs lately, a little more of each than usual. But the good moments outweigh the bad, so that's alright then.

Oh, and I moved back to California. For good. And just in time for tomatoes.

(I still love Philly though! But I hella love Oakland.)

Grocery Shopping 101: The Farmer's Market

I love tomatoes. I like them highly acidic, plump, hard, and with a strong smell. A friend of mine once asked her father what a tomato plant smelled like, and got the reply "a tomato plant smells like a tomato plant." I like my tomatoes to taste like a tomato plant. And I like my tomatoes raw. And mostly I like my tomatoes to be dry-farmed Early Girls from Tomatero Farm. Which, being located in Watsonville, CA, doesn't yet sell their produce in Philadelphia, but does attend my favorite, and previously local, Grand Lake farmer's market.

Which was, for a few years, my weekly grocery stop. And for which I set aside every Saturday morning for every time I find myself back in Oakland, and not just for the tomatoes. So, while tomatoes feature heavily in this post, there's lots of other beautiful produce as well. And some beautiful Oakland people. Who are selling, buying, and eating beautiful produce.

Dry-farming, where the plant gets very little water, and thus spends all its energy producing its fruits, is less productive than normal farming methods, and is also super delicious. My favorite application is tomatoes, of course, but the most excellent strawberries are also grown with this technique - my favorite are Albion strawberries, also from Tomatero Farm's stand.


Actually, I get a lot of stuff from Tomatero Farm.















But there's a bunch of other nifty vendors there too, and one of the wonderful things about farmer's markets is the ability to see, smell, and taste what you're thinking about buying. My tomatoes and strawberries always come from the same stand, but I buy peaches from different folks week to week, depending on what varieties are offered and how they taste.

And some things are more seasonal than others, and you have to get them while they're available. (This being California, strawberries are not one of the seasonal things, but okra seems to be.)

And other things are less seasonal.

That photograph on the right is of chalkboards listing different cuts of meat. I've begun buying meat at farmer's markets more often: it's more expensive, but also more delicious, more sustainable, healthier, and lowers my meat consumption to a more reasonable level. The food festival I went to while I was in California, Eat Real, tried to emphasize those points, but I'd already noticed the improvement in my regular grocery shopping and diet when I got my protein from the market along with my produce. An added benefit is that if I take the time to carefully choose such a wonderful cut of meat, I'll take the time to cook it properly, with good accompaniments, meaning I eat higher quality food and more balanced meals.

And of course, the vendors are always happy to help you make educated choices, recommend ways to cook their produce, and give you plenty of information about what they're selling. They're also usually really awesome.

If, for instance, you need ripe melons for your housewarming party that afternoon, the lady selling melons will go pick out the ripest ones she can find from her huge truckload.

And it's Oakland. There's lots of local "color."

Like the tiniest pink spotted horsie leg-warmers ever, or Jimbo Trout, or whatever those white people are doing.

Also all those crazy local political activists.

Hi dad. Hi mom. Hi lady who wants to take Oakland back. Probably with a baseball bat. Don't be fooled, these people are hardcore.

They're also very serious about their tomatoes.

Ratatouille

I've been cooking a lot lately, but even so I found some tomatoes, zucchinis, and eggplants threatening to get mushy at the bottom of my vegetable drawer. Luckily there's a way to use up all those things in one go, and at the same time pay homage to my favorite movie.

For real. My favorite movie EVER. So much Pixar love!

Now that I've told everyone that my favorite movie involves a little blue animated rat, maybe we should move beyond my classy, intelligent, and highly refined movie tastes and get back to the food.

Ratatouille is always a colorful dish, but when you're using heirloom eggplants and tomatoes and green and yellow squashes, all from the farmer's market (although not entirely fresh, due to the aforementioned time at the bottom of the vegetable drawer) it's particularly beautiful. 

So there's a lot of photographs in this post. 

Everything should be in approximately bite-sized pieces. You can make ratatouille on the grill or in the oven as well, but I usually sauté everything, mostly because I'm lazy.

Always start with onions. Then add the eggplant. When it's looking pretty well cooked, throw in the squash.

It's good to add some fresh herbs somewhere in there - I was feeling REALLY lazy, and just tossed in some garlic. But thyme or basil or marjoram or any number of things always makes a good addition, particularly if your ingredients aren't at their peak. This is a good recipe to use for slightly inferior produce, although luckily I didn't have that problem.

The tomatoes go in last. I just stirred them in and made sure they were incorporated, then turned off the heat. They don't need to get overly mushy or disappear into the mixture - they hold more flavor (and color!) if they're just barely cooked. 

My real stroke of genius was plating the ratatouille onto some goat cheese covered toast (Purple Haze and pain au levain, both from the Metropolitan Bakery). The sharp goat cheese was the perfect compliment to the sweet, tomato-y ratatouille (although, is there anything NOT made better by goat cheese?) and the toast added a lovely crunchy texture. Delicious.