Good Enough & Latkes {Recipe}

At the beginning of November, I made a goal to post once a day for National Blog Posting Month. You could say that I failed, because I only wrote here eleven times in the last thirty days. One of the reasons I couldn't find the energy to post more often is that Lil is struggling with self-confidence and decision-making, requiring intense parenting effort. She's a smart, active only child in a family of first borns. And while some people think the effects of birth order are debatable, Alex, Lil, and I embody the typical characteristics of first children - we are all fiercely independent folks with perfectionist tendencies. When things don't go as we expect, we become frustrated. Alex stomps and slams, I give up and stew, Lil cries.

To help Lil, and ourselves, we're all working to adopt an attitude of 'good enough', especially about things we can't control. The library didn't have the book she wants - what's available that is 'good enough'? Wood isn't dry enough to reliably start a roaring fire - what can we use to make a 'good enough' blaze? My vision of a dyed silk scarf* didn't turn out - how can I over dye or embellish to make a 'good enough' piece?

In the new light of 'good enough' I recognize that my eleven blog posts in November is almost twice as much as my monthly posting average for first ten months of 2013. I may not have met the goal, but I feel successful because I published eleven articles.

I hoped to cook, photograph, and write our latke recipe in mid-November so that you might be inspired to make them for Hanukkah. We're four nights in now, but that leaves four more nights for you to consider making potato pancakes - the timing of this recipe is 'good enough'.

We've been making latkes during Hanukkah for several years now. The crispy, savory cakes require no special ingredients beyond what most home cooks keep stocked in the pantry. We pan fry ours in about an inch of oil which is neither as messy or greasy as deep frying. Latkes are traditional during the Hanukkah season because the oil honors the eight nights of lamp oil that the Maccabees considered a miracle, but there's no reason not to make these at any time of year.

Homemade Latkes

Makes: 3 dozen Time: 45 minutes

1 large sweet potato 8 russet potatoes 2 medium onions 5 large eggs 1 cup flour 1 teaspoon kosher salt + additional for dusting 10-20 grinds fresh black pepper 1-2 quarts olive, canola, or other frying oil applesauce and sour cream, optional for serving

1. Peel sweet potato. Shred russet (peel if you like but we don't), sweet potatoes, and onions with a box grater or food processor. The food processor creates lovely long shreds but our model has a bunch of safety features that make the process lengthy. Reason number thirteen that I dislike the food processor. If you want to do this ahead of time, place shredded potatoes under cold water for up to eight hours. 2. Pour off any liquid. Press and pour off more liquid if possible. 3. Whisk eggs until foamy. Mix in flour, salt, and pepper. Pour over potatoes and onions and stir until combined. 4. Meanwhile, heat 1 inch oil until one string of potato sizzles and fries to golden brown in a wide, heavy-bottomed pan. 5. With your hands, press approximately 1/2 cup of the potato mixture into a disc. Place gently in the hot oil. Cook for two minutes and then flip. Continue cooking until bottom is browned. You may cook multiple latkes at once but do not crowd the pan or oil will cool and latkes will become greasy. 6. Remove from oil and drain on a wire rack over a cookie sheet. Dust with salt. Place cookie sheet in a 200 degree F oven to keep warm while frying further batches. 7. Serve warm with traditional accompaniments of sour cream and applesauce if desired.

*I'm leading a silk dying workshop this Tuesday at City Folk's Farm Shop. Please join me to learn simple techniques to custom color handkerchiefs, playsilks, and scarves while making a sample to take home.

Thankful

 

The first thing I see every morning is this tree. I look out the window upon an oak that was large before I was born. The oak stood tall before my house was built. Estimated to be at least 150 years old, our oak towers over all the trees on the street. I am thankful for a stunning view.

The oak is home to countless critters including the murder of crows at the top in this picture. Last year the crows gathered on the first night of Hanukkah, causing Lil to name the event 'Cronukkah'. Alex and I chuckle when we talk about Cronukkah because the phrase sounds a little like a holiday Snoop Dog might celebrate. I am thankful for a loving, laughing family.

My daybreak reverie with the this tree reminds me that our family is but a tiny thread of the web of life. Yet our thread is significant. We must use our energy to enjoy and protect treasures like this tree. I am thankful for all the wondrous and mysterious ways of Mother Nature.

What are you thankful for this year? 

Cinnamon Almond Crunch {Recipe}

 

Growing up as the oldest of four girls, I remember my mother cooking for nutrition and the efficient use of her time and food budget. We ate well, and mostly from scratch, but meals were not complicated. We rarely ate dessert and when we did, it was almost always homemade.

That's why summertime pool snacks were always a huge treat. Mom would buy sugared cereal especially for this purpose, the only time we ever ate Fruity Pebbles or Lucky Charms or Cinnamon Toast Crunch, my favorite. She'd send us off on our bikes with towels and a box of cereal.

Looking back, I realize what a brilliant coup this was - snacks from the snack bar used cash she didn't want us carrying around and weren't filling. Cereal was undoubtedly cheaper, a little more nutritionally balanced, and still satisfied our desire for a treat.

Fast forward to my birthday this fall. The idea was to have ice cream sundaes for dessert and my mom asked my sister Heather, a pastry chef, to make a nutty topping. She tossed together these simple baked almonds. The sugary, crisp nuts made me start snacking like I was back at the pool with my hands in a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Beyond an awesome part of a sundae, Cinnamon Almond Crunch makes a lovely gluten-free bit of crunch on top of a pudding, fool, or crisp. Add a pile to a fruit and cheese appetizer. I like eating them right out of the jar.

Cinnamon Almond Crunch Makes: 1 quart Time: 1 hour

1 egg white 8 ounces blanched, slivered almonds 1/3 cup sugar 1/8 teaspoon salt 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1. Whip egg white in a large bowl just until fluffy. 2. Fold in almonds until they are evenly coated. 3. Stir in sugar, salt, and cinnamon until almonds are well coated. 4. Spread in an even layer on a parchment- or silpat-lined cookie sheet. 5. Bake at 250 degrees F for 30-45 minutes or until almonds are slightly browned and the sugar is crisp. 6. Cool at room temperature. Store in an air-tight container for up to two weeks. Keep away from curious cats.

Your Input Needed On New Food Rules

Now that the government is running again (Yay!) federal institutions are again working on agriculture bills and rules. Big business and organizations have lobbyists who are doing their best to influence these groups to make it easier for big ag to receive big subsidies, allow the use of bee-killing chemicals, and continue socially dangerous animal-rearing practices. Those of us who believe in a slower, more local, organic way of growing don't have the benefit of a huge lobbying force. Instead, we must overwhelm politicians with our personal stories and visions for a healthier food production system.

Two Important Decisions Need Your Comments

First, Congress is drafting a new Farm Bill. For the betterment of the farming profession, the environment, and the health of all Americans, I envision a Farm Bill that reduces agricultural subsidies for monoculture mega-farms, increases opportunities for small, diverse farms, and continues the National Organic Cost-Share Program which assists organic growers with certification fees. I communicated these priorities to my senators and representatives. Please do the same by finding your Congress people and writing or calling them - it's quick and easy. The Ohio Ecological Food and Farm Association (OEFFA) provides direction for contacting your elected officials and more information about the Farm Bill.

Next, the Food and Drug Administration is collecting comments on a new Food Safety Modernization Act. The entire act is long and complicated, overly so in my opinion. The Produce Safety and Preventative Controls rules, in particular, need adjustment to make them equitable for small family farms. I focused my comments around how the proposed rule burdens small farmers in the amount and specificity of water quality testing (daily at exceedingly low PPM in some cases), makes the use of compost nearly impossible through the rule that it can only be applied outside of nine months before planting, and applies an unnecessary high-risk designation to processed food like pickles, breads, and syrups.

The deadline for submitting comments regarding the Food Safety Modernization Act is tomorrow, November 15. OEFFA again has detailed information available for those who want to reply in detail. If you don't have the time to reply on a line-by-line basis, your comments advocating for small, diverse farms are still valuable. Submit your comments directly to the FDA.

I would much rather be growing and cooking local food than advocating politically, but sometimes we need to speak out. I encourage you to take a few moments to study these proposed regulations and bring your voice to the table. Small, sustainable growers like myself thank you.

Tupperware Season-Serve {One Great Tool}

I can hear you out there. "Tupperware, Rachel, really?" you're saying. But hear me out because this one item reduced our household's plastic freezer bag consumption by a huge amount - and is useful for storing other items too.

Alex used to use gallon bags constantly to cure meat - pork bellies for bacon, marinating jerky, and salmon in rub. Often after the meat was cooked, he used another bag to store it in the fridge or freezer. The waste really added up, but even I won't re-use plastic bags that hold raw meat.

Then I went to a party at my friend Patti's house with Dee W. Ieye, the fabulous cross-dressing Tupperware mega-seller. The show was, as advertised, a riot. I'm not really a Tupperware girl but I perked up when Dee mentioned a marinating container.

The Tupperware Season-Serve is two deep plastic pans, each of which is lined with small raised dots that hold meat slightly off the bottom. The pans seal together, forming a container that can be flipped without spilling - exactly what you need to do once a day for most charcuterie.

We've used the Season-Serve for a few months now and it is everything I had hoped - it holds meat juices without spilling, is easy to stack in the fridge, and has saved at least a box of freezer bags so far. If you, like me, find yourself in a Tupperware party hosted by an over-the-top faux-Southern lady, order the Season-Serve. Or skip the show and buy one online.

Turn Here Sweet Corn {Book Hounds}

The Ohio Ecological Food and Farm Association announced their keynote speakers for the annual conference recently. I read the biographies and requested Atina Diffley's book Turn Here Sweet Corn: Organic Farming Works from the library. Diffley writes her memoir of growing into a farmer and becoming an accidental activist with the gifts of a fine story teller. Throughout her dramatic tale of finding and losing a farm and then fighting to save another, she shares personal moments of grief, joy, and insatiable desire to grow food organically. She portrays farming realistically, describing the challenges of physical labor and difficult weather while constantly reminding the reader of the same appreciation for nature I feel when working in the garden. "Every time I am in the field or the garden, there is one plant or insect, one leaf or flower, one line or shape that jumps from the rest and catches my senses with the profound beauty of its lovely self," she writes.

Diffley weaves many useful farming tips from her Gardens of Eagen farm into her writing. She advocates that "weeds are not our enemies but our allies, nature's system to protect, repair, and purify the soil," and then goes on to describe how to build organic soil from conventional fields. She tells how her successful organic farm plants in succession, weeds, and markets their wares in enough detail to be useful to current and would-be organic farmers, but in a story-telling fashion that would not bore a non-farmer.

Beyond being an interesting story, Turn Here Sweet Corn is inspirational to me as a maybe farmer. Diffley describes a life that is physically and mentally challenging but incredible rewarding. She advocates for the utmost of integrity, writing "our name is on it, and quality is crucial, but it's not just that. We enter people's lives in the most sacred way possible. Our hands touch every vegetable that leaves this land. This food enters the eaters' lives through their mouths and nourishes their bodies. I need to be sure that every piece of food that leaves here is good." Watch the book trailer below to hear more about Turn Here Sweet Corn in Atina's own words.

Registration for the 2014 OEFFA conference will open in about a month. Alex and I will present a workshop on pressure canning (more details to come) and I can't wait to be in the audience for Atina Diffley's keynote.

Homemade Celery Powder {Recipe}

Swainway Urban Farm grew beautiful, strong celery this year. The stalks were dense in flavor and texture and sold with the abundant tops. This variety isn't well suited to eating as a veggie stick but perfect for cooking. I roasted it, added it to stock, and made a cream of  celery soup that even satisfied picky Lil. One bunch of celery yielded almost eight cups of leaves. Thanks to my friend and fellow farmers' market junkie Jenn, I knew just what to do with them so that I could savor the local organic celery flavor for months to come.

I made a spice!*

After a simple wash, zip in the hated food processor, and 12 hours in the dehydrator, the kelly green leaves reduced to mere ounces of dried celery powder.

Celery powder, like celery itself, is a natural source of sodium nitrate. Sodium nitrate is what turns into sodium nitrite in our digestive system. And sodium nitrite is the reason bacon tastes like bacon and corned beef tastes like corned beef - it's antimicrobial and piquant and completely delicious.

Anything you cook with a sprinkle of celery powder becomes more tasty. Add some to a rub for meat or a stew for another layer of flavor. Keep it on hand for soups when you run out of celery. Make it a part of dressings, sauces, and dips. I aim for my pantry to never be without celery powder again.

Celery Powder Makes: 2 ounces Time: 12.5 hours total, 20 minutes active

8 cups celery leaves (very fresh, organic celery is best because it has the best flavor) 1/2 cup water

1. Wash celery leaves and place in food processor while damp. 2. Pulse in the food processor, adding up to 1/2 cup water, until leaves are finely chopped into a thick puree. 3. Spread in a thin layer on fruit leather tray in a dehydrator. (It may be possible to dry the puree in a very low oven on a parchment- or silicone- lined cookie sheet.) 4. Dehydrate for 8-12 hours at the dehydrator's lowest setting, stirring to ensure that all leaves are dehydrated completely. 5. Crumble in your fingers as you fill a spice jar with the powder. For a finer powder, mill in a mortar and pestle.

*Semantics among you might argue that celery powder is a dried herb. But I put it in a spice jar in the spice drawer, so I'm calling it a spice.

Am I A Farmer?

I grow food on my land. I share this food with people well beyond my family. I work in the soil ten hours a week with Swainway Urban Farm and sell our mushrooms and microgreens at farmers' markets. My hands are dirty all the time. All these are good signs that I might be a farmer. But yet I resist this label and I want to unpack why.

For a long time, my excuse was that a farmer sells their food, and I didn't, so I couldn't be a farmer. But now, I do grow and sell food for Swainway and I've given my family and friends in excess of $500 worth of food this season.

Farming, if I'm a farmer, is certainly not my primary occupation - I write, teach cooking classes, mother, and volunteer. That's why I've been drawn to the word homesteader. I could also be a 'hobby farmer' but that seems to devalue the work of farming. Yes, I might not grow food and raise chickens for profit, but an hour of bed building is the same whether the eventual tomatoes go to market or are consumed at home.

The biggest resistance in my mind is that I don't think of farmers and farming organizations as representing the food growing system I want to see. Farmers are people who drive tractors and own many acres and raise meat in feedlots and file for government subsidies and use chemical fertilizers and plant gmo seeds. I spend enormous effort and money to feed those I love with food that doesn't come from the typical American farm. If I call myself a farmer, I'm afraid that people will think I'm one of the conventional types.

Beyond the fact that I oppose the growing  practices of the vast majority of American farmers, I feel like I don't fit in with the traditional farming lifestyle. I live in the city. I hold liberal values. I have a bachelor's degree in geological science and constantly pursue additional education through reading, conferences, and classes. I don't think anyone would describe me as a bumpkin or yokel, the third definition of farmer as provided by Merriam-Webster.

It makes me a little sad that when I think of a farmer, I think of something I don't want to be. No matter advances in technology, people will always need to eat. The number of people who farm as an occupation has declined steadily  in the last few decades but our population needs real food. Somehow, smart, hard-working, earth-minded growers (like me?) must reclaim farming as an honorable avocation.

What say you: am I a farmer?