Showing posts with label Lisa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lisa. Show all posts

November 26, 2008

The Jackpot: Underground Meat! plus Muffins!

And now, while I slave away toward the Thanksgiving feast, a not very explanatory guest post from my sister Lisa


Out of a refrigerator in a nondescript office space downtown, flowed forth local beef, pork, raw cheese, raw milk, local pickles, salsa, bread...

Plus some butternut squash, turnips, onions, turnip greens, and raw cheddar.


From that came the meal of burgers and mashed turnips above[ed note: at least that's what it looks like]


And for desert!!: butternut squash maple muffins with homemade oat flour

2 cups oat flour [rolled oats ground in a food processor until fine]
1 tbsp baking powder
1/2 banana
1/4 cup applesauce
1 cup mashed butternut squash [roasted, cooled, and mashed]
1/3 cup maple syrup
1 tbsp cinnamon
1 tsp ginger
1 tsp salt
1/4 cup canola oil
2 tsp vanilla extract

Combine ingredients, spoon into greased muffin tins, and crumble brown sugar on top. [I'm guessing you can bake these at 350 degrees for 15-20 minutes.]

hott!!

thanks Lisa, that was very interesting...

October 30, 2008

Kids in Our Hearts

Lisa is really picking up the slack for my lazy posting. Here's another post from her, reflecting on her past, and future, living with goats.


My two sisters and I grew up on a small hobby goat farm in upstate NY, drinking the milk, eating my mom's simple homeade goat cheese, and milking, birthing, and playing with a bunch of does and kids (mothers and babies). Each was named by my mother or one of us from a list of our favorite flowers: there was Petunia, Iris, Daisy, Edelweiss, Magnolia, Lilac, and then Sparky when I got to name one. As we all got older, the goats somehow phased out of our lives. Pictured above is the lone remaining goat, Aurora, who is just a pet who looks pretty by the barn, and isn't milked.


Yesterday, while searching webrings for local cow and goat farms, sentimentality hit me hard, and I realized how much I missed that life and how jealous I felt every time I'd arrive at the next website of a cute, small goat farm somewhere in Florida.

For some ineffable reason, I've been feeling incredibly driven to this sort of farming - I've thought about working at produce farms and worked at a cow dairy farm, but never really felt any strong feelings for them. So this is the plan for my life: that I will someday in the future have a goat farm (although definitely not in Florida), give them all flower names (unless it's my mischeivous daughter's turn) and (probably illegally) sell the small amount of milk and cheese just to my friends and family and to Julia if she owns a bar in Brooklyn or upstate somewhere someday. Working towards this today, I hope to spend get back to Brazil (where I studied abroad in college) for some time WWOOFing on a goat dairy in Brazil during my upcoming grad school years.


Additional commentary from Julia
Hmm, I'm not sure I can sell "illegal" goat cheese at a bar. I think that might violate health codes somehow. And yes, one of my dreams to open a bar. More on that another day.

Triumph in the Quest for Local Meat

And another guest post from my sister Lisa in Florida, where finding locally sourced food is much more difficult than the Greenmarket-haven that is New York City.


After asking around at the Sarasota farmer's market about local beef, and only hearing of one farm (that sells only wholesale and incidentally, the restaurant I manage is strictly vegetarian), I asked the guys behind the meat counter at Whole Foods if they knew of any farms in the area. The older, wiser-looking fellow told me sort of discreetly about a buffalo farm in Bradenton. After much google searching, I found the phone number and gave them (Gap Creek Buffalo) an inquiring call.

Yesterday I undertook the trafficy 25 minute drive north to their house where they sell just from two small coolers. The variety was impressive for the size of the operation. 4 or 5 different cuts of steak, ground, burger patties, ground sausage, link sausage, and of course - a cooler full of hearts, lungs, tongues and other delicacies. After buying almost $50 of meat (wanted to stock up because I hate driving in Florida!), I asked them if they knew of any other farms that sell small-scale like they do, and they just told me plain and simple - Nope. There really aren't any. Unless they're only selling by word of mouth and to very few people.


All this was disconcerting, but my mood was quickly elevated back to a state of meaty bliss after grilling the buffalo burgers with some beer and friends over a charcoal grill. I only seasoned them with a little salt, pepper and garlic and found the flavor slightly milder than beef but distinctive and delicious. The extremely low fat content makes them cook faster than beef burgers so there was less waiting, which I appreciated after preparing the patties and the grill and getting my house ready for guests.

Overall, I (and we) loved it... so even though there may not be any local beef, chicken or eggs on the local horizon, at least we can still cook buffalo over the fire any time we want. Next time I'll remember marshmallows.

October 28, 2008

Guest post: Finding local meat in Florida


Another guest post from my sister Lisa, who's currently living in Sarasota, Florida, and managing a college campus cafe. The other night she made this delicious looking whole wheat pasta with chicken sausage, and local garlic, onion and arugula. Here's her story:



Celebrating the first week of Worden Farm (the only local, organic farm that sells at the Sarasota farmer's market), I had a Saturday night feast of sauteed garlic, onions and arugula that had the perfect balanced peppery, but mild, taste. Add some non-local chicken sausage from Whole Foods (the quest for local meat in the Sarasota area is still ongoing) and the result was spicy garlic and sausage, sweet vidalia onions and tomato sauce, and filling whole wheat al dente pasta. This was miles better than the pasta dishes I grew up on, which were usually bland and unsatisfying.

Today I will be going to pick up some buffalo meat from a small local farmer, so there may be a new, even more delicous Floridian post awaiting on the horizon.

August 6, 2008

Veal Chops to Die For

Guest post from my sister Lisa, who worked at Bobolink farm this summer selling bread and cheese, and is in Brooklyn for the week. Dinner last night:
Veal chops with caremelized onion, baby garlic, currants and sage and wine
Salad of baby greens, spearmint and basil
Mashed New Potatoes

Last night I finally got the chance to cook the two veal chops I had fatefully acquired (without paying $40!) from Bobolink Farms where I work. They had been sitting in my freezer for 3 weeks begging me to cook them. But who was I to share them with? There were but two chops.
Long story short, last night there was a gourmet meal, Luke and Lisa style, featuring the chops. I can't even describe how amazing they were. My tongue was at a loss for words. A lot of that is probably owed to Luke's repeated recomendation of "mo' buttaaa!" And the fact that this was one of the happiest little calves in the history of veal, roaming free on the land of Bobolink farm for all its short life. While working at the farmers market in Warwick this past Sunday I was also the joyous recipient of a whole load of vegetables to incorporate. And then my mom's garden in Warwick supplied the rest. So basically this meal was as free as it could get!
Veal Chops with Reduced Wine, Onion, and Sage Sauce
3 small white onions
a bunch of small cloves of garlic
lots of sage!
2 veal chops
some white wine (we used vinho verde - $4 at trader joes)
butter
olive oil

1) sautee onions, garlic, sage, salt, pepper in 1 tbsp each butter and olive oil until caremelized
2) take out of pan
3) add 1 more tbsp each of butter and olive oil
4) cook the chops 5 minutes medium heat on both sides (sprinkle on salt and pepper generously in the first few minutes)
5) remove from pan
6) pour 1/3 cup white wine into pan and scrape around
7) add onion mixture back in and let reduce until thick and delicous looking
8) pour this over the chops
9 ) eat!!
10) ready to die yet? I am

May 21, 2008

Rice Pilaf with Chickpeas and Spring Vegetables


My dear fun sister Lisa is graduating from college next week, and what would graduation be without a party to celebrate? My mother has relinquished cooking responsibilities for her graduation party to Lisa and I, our family's resident foodies. I love planning and cooking for parties so it wasn't long before we started brainstorming ideas, some of which will surely appear here after the fact. Among those ideas was a light pasta with spring vegetables, which transformed into a rice pilaf instead, because I have a hard time warming up to tomato-sauce-less pasta. I made a test run tonight, and the healthful combination of rice, chickpeas, and tender green vegetables was so wonderful that this one is being added to my rotation.

Spring garlic, also known as green garlic, has just come into season and is making the rounds on the blogosphere. I was eager to try it when I saw it at Union Square today, especially because I figured it would go perfectly in the rice pilaf I had planned for dinner. Spring garlic looks, slices, and cooks like the texture of a small leek, but with a sharper garlic taste and smell. I wasn't sure if I could cook the whole plant, since google resulted in conflicting advice. In his artful New York Times article, Daniel Patterson seems to be telling us only to use the white and light green parts. Meanwhile, Farmgirl Fare encourages us to go ahead and use the whole thing. So I did what seemed right, which was to use the whole stalk, minus the tough outer dark green leaves. Someone correct me if I'm wrong.


This dish is brilliant and warm and very green, like early spring. The creamy chickpeas, heightened by an hour of simmering and a bright tinge of lemon, contrasted perfectly with crunches of asparagus and mouthfuls of soft rice. It would have been more perfect if I were capable of cooking fluffy rice instead of the gummy wet rice that always comes out of my saucepans, but that's a challege for another day. I used a mixture of brown short grain rice and black himalayan rice, lending it a colorfully dark hue, but any rice that pleases you would suit this, as would bulgur or orzo I think.


Likewise, other spring vegetables such as peas or fava beans (which are not yet in season here in New York) would also do well in this dish. I couldn't much discern the green garlic, but I'm sure it helped things along. The parsley came from my herb garden, where it is flourishing over all the other herbs, straight on its way to becoming a veritable bush of parsley. And the cheese is optional, but cheese makes everything better, don't you think? I was out of parmesan, so I used a sharp Edam-like cheese, or a swiss cheese would work.


Rice Pilaf with Chickpeas and Spring Vegetables

3/4 cup dried chickpeas
1 cup rice
2 stalks spring garlic
1 bunch asparagus
couple handfuls baby bok choy
1 tsp lemon juice

The day before or that morning, place chickpeas in a pot covered with a couple inches of water to let soak.

After 6-24 hours, drain chickpeas, rinse, and return to pot. Refill with water, again covering chickpeas by a couple inches, and add a pinch of salt to water. Bring to a boil and then let simmer 45-90 minutes until chickpeas are tender. Drain and set aside.

Just after starting chickpeas, combine rice with 2 cups water and a pinch of salt. Bring to a boil and let simmer until rice is tender.

While chickpeas and rice simmer away, clean spring garlic as you would leeks and dice its stalks, discarding tough dark green leaves. Sautee spring garlic in olive oil over medium low heat.

Rinse asparagus and break off woody ends where the asparagus naturally breaks in your hand. (Reserve ends for future use, such as soup or dip.) Chop asparagus into one-inch pieces and sautee with garlic for a couple minutes.

Rinse and roughly chop baby bok choy and add to sautee pan. Continue to sautee another few minutes until wilted.

Combine chickpeas and rice in pan with vegetables. Stir in lemon juice and salt pepper and pepper to taste. Add grated cheese, if desired, and garnish with parsley.

December 23, 2007

Almond and Chocolate Chip Biscotti

My sisters are visiting for a couple days, and tomorow we'll be traveling home together for Christmas. We've been in and out of shops all day, to show them what New York, and Brooklyn, has to offer. When we walked into SettePani to gawk at all the pretty delectable cookies and treats, Lisa considered buying a package of biscotti as a gift for our father, who unbeknownst to me, likes biscotti. But I convinced her we should make our own biscotti instead. We picked up some almonds, and since I had chocolate chips at home, we threw them in too. It was surprisingly easy to make, but I thought the chocolate chips made them over-the-top sweet. To me, biscotti should be all about the mild sweetness of almond. I might make these again for my holiday party, but I will leave out the chocolate chips. If you are feeling more adventurous, you can get ideas for other biscotti combinations here.

Almond and Chocolate Chip Biscotti
2/3 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup white flour
2/3 cup whole wheat flour
1 tsp baking powder
3/4 cup almonds, chopped into small slices and toasted
1/2 cup semisweet or dark chocolate chips

To toast almonds, place almond pieces on a baking sheet and bake at 350 degrees until lightly toasted, approximately 8-10 minutes. Let almonds cool, and leave oven on at 350.

Beat sugar and eggs until smooth, and add vanilla. In a separate bowl, combine flour and baking powder, and then fold dry mixture into wet. Add almond pieces and chocolate, and combine.

Place dough on baking sheet and form into a log approximately 4 inches wide and 12 inches long. Bake for 15-20 minutes until firm. Let cool 10 minutes, then place on a cutting board and cut at an angle into slices. Place biscotti slices cut side down back on the baking sheet. Bake 7-10 minutes, turn biscotti over, and bake an additional 7 minutes until both sides are lightly golden brown. Biscotti will be harder and crispier the next day.