The whole is a sum of its parts

I love making bread. Big giant loaves of it. Sourdough, French, Dinner Rolls, Whole Wheat Sandwich Bread ... There is little in this world that rivals the first slice off of a fresh loaf of bread right out of the oven. It's heaven.

My in-laws gifted me a sourdough starter a few Christmases ago ... It's the ancestor of a 250 year old yeast culture, which means there's a good chance that one or two grains of yeast in there are at least that old. Back in the early days of bread making (we're talking hundreds of years ago), yeast wasn't really an option for baking. Most historical (and now culturally significant) breads were dense and unleavened. Then one fine morning some baker left his flour and water mixture out overnight, as the oral history goes ... maybe he was being lazy? Maybe it had been a really difficult week and he threw his hands up and said to himself, "That's it! I'm going home for a glass of wine." The next day he noticed that the pre-dough he left out had doubled in size. So he baked some of it. And it was delicious. 

What he had done is capture a wild yeast. Yes, they exist. No, I haven't caught one. I keep my starter fed in a clay crock in the fridge. You can get sourdough starter from all sorts of places. If you get in good with a baker at your favorite high end restaurant, they might throw you a tablespoon of starter - and that's all you need to begin. There's a process of feeding, cutting down the mixture, feeding it again. It seems complicated at first, but it's as simple as tossing a cup of flour and a cup of water into the container and letting it do its thing. 

We've come a long way since starters were the norm for leavening breads, cakes and other baked goods. So why keep up the practice, especially if it requires so many steps and keeping a microscopic organism alive? 

Taste. 

The flavor of a rustic sourdough bread is hard to compare. So, I figured I would share my favorite recipe for sourdough bread. Don't have a starter at home? You can catch a batch of wild yeast at home, if you're so inclined ... or you can buy some online (the MUCH easier route). I recommend this website, Sourdough Home, which is pretty comprehensive on the subject. They have links to help you buy a reputable starter from a few different suppliers. They'll come to you in small amounts and it's up to you to feed it and keep it alive until it's ready to bake with. Think of it like an edible chia pet? Or a guppy or spider plant that feeds you after you feed it. Now that's a pet worth having in the refrigerator. 

KING ARTHUR'S RUSTIC SOURDOUGH BREAD

[I told you I like King Arthur ... my starter comes from their original batch, caught 250 years ago. My mother-in-law, Dianne, noticed I was baking a lot at home and decided this was a perfect gift- and was it EVER. Their guide is comprehensive, but not overly-so. The rules are simple with starter and once you have it  nailed, your bread will never be the same.]

Ingredients:

1 cup "fed" sourdough starter

1 1/2 cups luke warm water

2 1/2 teaspoons salt

1 tablespoon sugar

2 teaspoons instant yeast

5 cups all purpose, unbleached flour

Mix all of that together and knead to form a smooth dough. Put your dough ball in a greased bowl, covered, and let it rise until doubled ... that'll take around 90 minutes- give or take- depending on the temperature of your kitchen, etc. You'll know it's doubled when you go to press your finger into it and the dough doesn't bounce back to shape. If you leave a dent, it's ready to knock down.

At that point, divide the dough in half (unless you're like me and feel daring enough to make one, GIANT sourdough loaf .. the result is huge, but just as good) and shape into two oval loaves. Let these rise again, for about 60 minutes, until doubled. Slash the tops and bake at 425 for 30 minutes. For a nicer crust I like to put a baking dish of water in the oven while the bread bakes. It creates steam that cures the crust and adds a great bite to the bread.

I'm sure you noticed how simple the ingredients are for a baking bread. Artisan bread really is that simple ... there are no preservatives (so you should eat it quickly!) and no chemicals. If you buy bread at the grocery store, have a gander at the ingredients on the label. If the consist of just flour, water, salt, sugar and yeast- that's awesome. Please share which bread you buy. I'm sure it's awesome. Sandwich breads add eggs and milk for protein and to create a different crumb, but outside of that breads shouldn't vary much. I decided to stop buying manufactured bread when the healthiest loaves were twice the price of others. Making bread at home costs just a few cents. We haven't bought a loaf since ... and it's been a great way to eat healthier.

I know not everyone can bake their own bread, but you should consider that most of the work is just waiting for the damn thing to rise. I hope to have bread as part of the menu I can offer clients. I have quite the arsenal of bread skills. And there's just something special about sharing bread fresh from the oven. 

In coming posts ... less about baking, more about cooking. It's this change of seasons that's got me all baking happy. Our apartment is small and baking anything helps us supplement our home heating. Ha! 

I think a braise should be next. Something that falls off the bone and melts in your mouth. With sweet and savory roasted vegetables.

Now I'm hungry again ... and I just had breakfast! (Muesli to be exact. Love that stuff.)

Be well, enjoy your Friday!

xoxo

Vermicomposting

If you've ever visited Mark and I, we've probably given you the worm tour.

Yes. Worms. Lots of them.

Our large, green Rubbermade tub sits just outside the kitchen. We covered the top with black weeding fabric to keep out light and allow for circulation. Inside lay thousands of Red Wigglers amid a mixture of newspaper, peet moss and various vegetable scraps. The return is the best compost we've ever used. We also cut our garbage haul in half. It's been impressive, to say the least.

Lots of folks wrinkle their noses when I tell them we have worms at home. I can imagine it sounds gross at first ... they must smell or take up a lot of room. My father can barely get over the concept- his daughter keeps worms as pets. For the record: They don't smell. They don't take up a lot of room. They don't make any noise. Best. Pets. Ever.

For the past four years Mark and I have lived in apartments, mainly on the second floor. We're urban farmers and utilize a community garden plot between Clinton St. and Iron Works Rd. We want to compost, but when you don't have a yard to speak of, that part gets complicated. Worms were the answer.

That's where Joan came in.

Joan's Famous Composting Worms to be exact. We bought two pounds of them from her at the Concord Farmers' Market several years ago. They've been happy, healthy and well fed ever since.

Joan O'Connor has managed the Concord and Manchester Farmers' Markets for as long as I can remember. She has a dynamic personality and it is clear that she loves what she does. I consider her a true embassador for Concord's environmental community. And she was delightful when it came to setting us up with our new leg-less brood.

We've been thrilled with the results thus far and our worm collection has steadily grown. As long as we have enough to feed them, they control their population well.

This vermicomposting is one component of keeping our eating habits sustainable. Sure, there's little guilt in throwing out compostable food waste ... it'll break down eventually, right?

The problem with sending *anything* to a landfill is always the same- if air can't get to it, it won't decompose. Landfills hinder natural processes for the most part. Composting is the most efficient (and affordable way) to dispose of biodegradable material. And it's fun! What a killer science project for your kids- or, for teachers, your classroom?? Personally, I like the idea of harnessing a powerful force of nature hidden in some of its smallest and more helpless life forms. They eat the food that we eat. They create nutrients for our soils, which helps grow new produce. We've got our own "circle of life" happening in a Rubbermade storage container. The whole concept makes me giggle. And it's beautiful.

I want to bring this kind of sustainability to other people. No, I don't want to put a bucket of worms under every kitchen sink, but I sure don't mind having them. Why can't I give my clients the peace of mind that their food scraps have a higher purpose? I would like to think I can give people a chance to eat the way they've always wanted to - to have a deeper connection to their food and the land that it comes from. There's a lot of power in that. And from those small gestures come bigger ideas; greater movements toward connection and preservation. ... All because you threw the apple core in the worm bin and not the garbage. How da'ya' like that?

We'll be harvesting some compost from the worms soon. I just threw a good two pounds of apple waste in their bin yesterday after making a batch of apple sauce. I need to give them a few days to pick them apart.

In the mean time ... there's more cooking to do.

Love to all!

Terroir

In the spirit of building more healthy habits than I started with, I've tried to get some reading in before bed every night. Mark and I went to the closing of Borders after most of the shelves had been picked over, but I found a few gems in the rough ... A biography on Ferran (the elBulli super genius ... if you've never heard of him, do a Google search. His food is groundbreaking), a story about Fanny Farmer (of Bostonian cooking ledgend), and one that I really can't put down ...

American Terroir, by Rowan Jacobsen

The book is written in the style of "The Botany of Desire" by Michael Pollan, but the focus of each ingredient is its origin and why that origin is important to flavor and the future of the area in which it is produced. The hook was the first chapter, which focused on maple syrup production in Vermont. I haven't been able to put it down since ... just got through the coffee section. Brilliant!

All of this focus on place and origin brings my thoughts to where I live and work and eat. New Hampshire has a bounty that's often forgotten by modern eaters. Come to think of it, it is rare for me to taste food that is native to this area. My cousin Greg Trahan is a mushroom forager - fungi fun-guy if you ask me - and he's done me the service of finding Black Trumpets and King's Beard the past few weeks. Black Trumpets are really black chanterelles and they are delicious. Earthy, savory, with a firm bite. They are the best mushrooms I've ever tasted. And they came from the woods. He even found a hand-full in my parents yard the last time he visited.

I want to incorporate elements of this into what I offer as a personal chef. How I can do that on a larger scale has yet to be figured out, but I know it's possible. New Hampshire's soil is notoriously rocky and mineralized. That's a problem our friend Josh Trought has had to deal with while he develops the soil of his organic and educational homestead in Dorchester, a beautiful place named D Acres (you can check them out here). I could write a novel about D Acres, and I will someday, but not this post ... but Josh has been rebuilding his property's soil with a mixture of composting, wood chips, permaculture, and time.

Minerals might be overpowering in a large growing situation, but what they do provide food is flavor and depth of character. We can taste the earth where something is grown if we taste carefully enough. Terroir was made famous by the wine-growers of the world, why shouldn't we apply it to the beautiful food we create here at home? Our terroir is our history and our identity. And I find it fascinating. With all the rocks we've got in our soil around here, I'm sure you can't help but taste all the Live Free or Die that exists in our farm fields and herds.

Over the course of my culinary "education," I've found that I prefer a simple approach to food. 20 ingredients in a recipe isn't necessary for it to be delicious. If your ingredients are high quality, so is their flavor. No need for additional fats to make all of it palatable. Good, clean food is prepared simply. The flavor is built in. That means healthier meals. That means having a better grasp of where your food comes from. Over my career I've had the pleasure of making connections with some fantastic food producers. Venison, garlic, wine, cheese; I've done my best to seek out finest ingredients where I live. This is a service I can offer to future clients. I want to work with people who know food. In their busy lives they might not have the ability to travel to four locations to get all of their food items. But I can. And that's what I want to do with my life. Connect people to the land around them. Give them the best of everything. Show them that in and on our rocky soil there is beauty and health and life ... all richer than the fluorescent din of the grocery store can provide.

Now that I've found my vocation I really have to step on the gas. It's time to get moving. And move I shall.

Hope you're all well. Enjoy this sunshine that just came about. It's just what the end of the harvest needs!

Love. xo 

Comfort

I've officially started on my new path to financial and creative independence. It isn't without the help of some amazing people. It's comforting to know that in the toughest of times there are always people there to lift us up- if we're willing to ask for their help. This is true even in the most dire of situations. Even when we are at our lowest.

I've taken up running again now that my schedule allows, but today is dreary and it feels like the rain has been falling for days instead of hours. Days like this call for comfort food. Something warm, savory ... New England's Autumn never fails to dish out cold and clammy days that remind us of the snow just beyond the horizon. Our seasonal foods are shifting with the temperatures. Squash, root vegetables, kole crops, are all taking center stage as the last vestiges of heirloom tomatoes and crunchy greens bow and exit stage left. In my mind the whole thing is bitter sweet. Summer foods are satisfying and plentiful. Though I make an attempt to eat seasonal foods to the point where I'm sick of them until the next season rolls around, I can never shake the craving for a tomato, mozzarella and basil salad. It's a weakness of mine.

What we do have in spades at home right now is apples and squash.

My husband Mark and I made a trip to Poverty Lane Orchards a week or so ago. These are the folks who produce Farnum Hill Cider in Lebanon, NH. What a beautiful property! Rolling hills of orchards with a less restricted feel than more commercial orchards. Leafy and inviting, picking apples there was a treat. We did pounce a bit early this year .. their heirloom apple orchard is ready for picking around the middle of October. Their website sports a spreadsheet 6 pages long listing each kind of apple tree they have available. It's mind blowing, to say the least ... check it out here.

We left with a hefty bag of Cortlands, Macs and Empires .. all the early apples. For this weeks Clean Plate Cook Book Club I made a yeasted apple cake. It came from an old recipe in the King Arthur Flour cook book. If I ever need a new and creative baked good, I turn to that book first. Their recipes range from modern to ancient and this one was definitely in the "old school" category.

I wish I had taken a picture of it. It was lovely. And devoured.

Here's the recipe ... simple, pretty, perfect for a Sunday brunch.

EASY ONE BOWL NO-KNEAD APPLE CAKE

(Side note: According to the King Arthur folks, yeast doesn't usually show up in cakes, or hasn't since the development of baking powder in the middle of the 1800s. So, the original version of this cake presumably has its roots deep in the last century.)

Fruit:
2 cups tart, firm apples, peeled, cored and sliced
2 to 3 Tbs water
2 heaping Tbs brown sugar
1/4 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp nutmeg
2 Tbs butter

** Mix all of these ingredients together in a sauce pan (except for the butter) and cook until the apples are just tender. Take them off the burner, then add your butter. Let this sit while you mix the batter. **

Batter:
1/2 cup whole wheat flour
1/2 cup sugar, white or brown
1/4 cup non-fat dry milk (I've found it helpful to buy this along with my flour lately. It goes a long way.)
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1 Tbs active dry yeast
2 Tbs butter
1/2 cup water, hot from the tap
1 egg
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup raisins (optional)

** Mix together your wheat flour, sugar, dry milk, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg and yeast. To that, add your butter right on top of the mixture. Pour your hot water over the butter to melt it, then mix this for a few minutes. It helps to give it a rest before you move on to the next step ... Next, add your egg and half of the all-purpose flour. You should add the remainder of the flour only to create a stiff batter ... not a dough. If you've ever baked before you know that weather, barometric pressure, all kinds of things effect baking. It's science for hungry people. You might not need all of your flour. **

To assemble your cake ... grease a 9" square baking dish or a 10" pie plate (that's what I used ... I greased it with butter) and pour your batter into the pan. Next, arrange the apple slices you cooked as best you can. This is where you get to pretend that your a food stylist for Bon Appetite ... get fancy- show off your skills. Once finished, cover with plastic wrap and let the whole thing rise for an hour to an hour and a half. This is where the yeast does the work that a more modern leavening agent would do in the oven.

Once the batter looks like it's growing around the apples, it's ready to bake. 25 - 30 minutes in a 350 degree oven aught to do the trick. My oven is off a bit, so it took longer than that. Once the cake springs back when you touch it, it's ready.

This got rave reviews from the cook book club and the room full of poker players down the hall. Better served as a breakfast treat than a dessert, this would be decadent served with a hot cup of coffee.

I've been long winded enough for one day. This rain has me contemplating soup making ... We do have a whole butternut squash I have to deal with. It was on sale at Hannaford. Love that place for fitting in as much local produce as makes sense for their dynamic. They're no farm stand, but they're good in a pinch.

Now if we could just get Whole Foods up here. Dammit.

New and improved

It has happened. I've found a way to work closer to home, part-time of course, so that I can finalize my new business plans.

Forever Feasting .... that's the name we're going with. My husband came up with it. I think it's magic. The concept is to create meals for people that are healthy, seasonal, sustainable, and delicious. The final steps include some testing on my part, acquiring some insurance and promoting my new endeavors. Being a personal chef will give me the tools I need to build the future I've only dreamed of. It feels powerful to have so much riding on intention alone. I am invigorated, energized. This life of mine is blessed beyond my wildest dreams.

Life is good.

I am blessed.

With that said, my future will depend on me reaching out to people who are in need of my services. A personal chef is an affordable luxury and few people realize just how helpful it can be. Most of the successful folks I know are plagued with a work schedule that makes their diet suffer. Then their waste-line swells, their organs get uncomfortable, their mood declines. I have multiple friends who subscribe to Weight Watchers in hopes of managing their consumption and stay healthy. Wouldn't that be a lot easier if they had their meals made? Wouldn't these folks get to spend more time with their kids if a warm meal was already waiting for them when they got home? The foundations of a strong family dynamic can be re-established and re-rooted around a dinner table. One of my parent's rules at home were that every had to have dinner together. The strong bonds we created at meal times in my youth are even stronger today. I'm lucky to have had that experience and I hope to allow people to have the same satisfaction in their own homes.

It all sounds idealistic, but the truth of the matter is that money rules people's decisions. It certainly controls how I spend my time and energy. I'm starting to learn that people who eat out in restaurants at least three times a week could afford what I have to offer ... better numbers will come soon.

There's a lot of great stuff to share and I'm excited to really get going.

Look out, world, 'cause here I come!

Moving, both physically and metaphorically.

The universe is moving around me. I can feel the breeze as it swirls around me ... With all of this movement I feel motivated to find my own way. It is easy to have lofty dreams of bright futures. That's how most of us get anywhere at all. My dreams are lofty for sure, but they are elevating me to places I hadn't expected ... and when all of this excitement comes careening out of me, I get frustrated that more of it isn't coming faster.

I threw a dinner party for some friends that I adore. They are two of our very best and they just bought a new home. It is lovely with a kitchen I could be buried in. So I helped them throw a dinner party. The dessert was provided by another dear friend, Charm Camacho. She is a genius in all things sweet and satisfying. Here are some shots Hubby and I captured during the height of the festivities.

If I could do this for the rest of my life, I could die feeling accomplished and satisfied.

Quality.

Until recently, I hadn't spent any quality time in a busy, working kitchen. The only kitchen I ever had training in was my own. I did have a stint as an early shift baker at a local coffee shop when I was younger. I had just moved back from living direction-less out West. It was satisfying while it lasted, living out my own "final frontiers," but Yankees always end up where they started.

My job as a baker needed me to get to work just before 4am. I would prepare boxed mixes of muffins and pastries, grind and brew coffee, jump-start the regular clientelle. There was little to no skill involved in the job. The real skill was getting enough sleep to show up for work at 4am the next morning. It didn't pay very well, but I got out of work early enough to get to happy hour at the bar across the street. That was what mattered at the time; that I got paid and still had time to hob-nob.

At one point in my adult life I heard that working in a kitchen required a certain set of skills. Handling knives and knowing ingredients are the least of these. Self deprivation, debauchery ... this is the stuff of kitchen staff. Motley crews who work all hours. The people who work while the rest of us rest. The people who dump out on to the streets after the restaurants are tucked in and prowl the early morning hours in search of their own forms of rest. I was hesitant to believe such things, but where there's smoke, there's fire ... my first opportunity with real kitchen work has proven more than I would let myself believe. It take rugged and dogged souls to feed the rest of us.

I'm not sure where I fit into this schematic yet. What kind of "chef" (if I can even use the word) will I become? I know what I love. I know what I don't love. At least I have that going for me.

This adventure into pursuing my dreams of becoming a food proprietor has been, for lack of a better descriptor ... Interesting. I know that's vague. The good and the bad are present every day. My ups and downs swoop and dive on a regular, and daily, basis. If I had my druthers I would be working closer to home in a kitchen with consistency. But then again, no one every came to anything great by being comfortable the whole time. Quality of life doesn't always come in large quantities. The days where we sigh to ourselves and say, "My God, this is what living *really* is," ... how often are those days? In my own personal experience, I've found that I get to say that often- and that is a blessing. Sure, my commute is long. The pay isn't great and the people keep me guessing, but this is how my story is starting out. This is how the path to a future of my own standards has started. You can't argue with that.

And that's how I'm going to convince myself that all is right with the world: It's supposed to be difficult. That's how you get down to the quality stuff. The things that keep us sighing "Thank you" under our breath.

Right?