What is a winter vegetable?

It’s not asparagus unless it’s canned, and somehow I doubt that President Obama (yes, I said President Obama!!) and the other dignitaries at the Inaugural Luncheon are dining on limp-as-wet-newspaper canned asparagus.

The menu and recipes for the inaugural luncheon are apparently the most viewed item on the Inaugural website. The good news: this is further proof that Americans are becoming more and more interested in food and our food culture. The bad news: they’re being told that asparagus is a winter vegetable, when it is, in fact, a spring vegetable.

Asparagus is available year-round in the U.S., but that doesn’t mean it’s in season; it just means that asparagus served in DC in January probably has an enormous carbon footprint.

There’s still a lot of work still to be done if we’re going to become more local, seasonal eaters.

Apricot jam with a twist (of lime)

After an extra-long, Telstra internet ‘service’-induced absence which included a house move over Christmas (something I swear I will never do again during the holidays),  I’m going to jump back into blogging, at least until I make my international move back to the U.S. next week, which will probably necessitate a few more days free of blogging.

Since I’m leaving Australia at the peak of summer (sad) for winter in the Midwest (really sad), I’m celebrating Apricots which are EVERYWHERE right now.  I’m not normally a huge apricot fan, but I found a recipe for apricot-lime jam last year that now has me eagerly anticipating apricot season every year.

It’s a Donna Hay recipe that ran in a supplement in the Sunday paper.  I’m not sure why I tore it out because my mother-in-law makes apricot jam every year and could keep a small country supplied with it for about a decade.  But I did tear it out and made the apricot lime jam.  Let me tell you, I would have eaten my own hand if it was slathered with that jam.  Normally, I find plain apricot jam a bit too cloying and one-dimensional.  Apricots have less acidity than my favorite jam fruits (namely plums and blackberries), so the lime and lime zest really gives this jam some zing and makes fruit in the jam taste more like fresh fruit instead of cooked. 

Apricot Lime Jam

1 lb. apricots
1 1/2 cups sugar
Zest and juice of one lime

Cut apricots in half, and remove the pits, but hang onto them because you’ll cook them with the apricots since they contain pectin and will help your jam set. Put the apricots, sugar, lime juice and zest and the reserved apricot pits into a saucepan and cook over medium heat. Bring the ingredients to a slow boil and cook for about 15-20 minutes, stirring occasionally until the jam thickens. To test if the jam is done, put a small plate in the freezer when you start cooking the jam. Put a small amount of the jam onto the cold plate and run your finger through it. If the line remains, the jam is ready.
Take the pits out of the jam and then pour it into sterilized jars and store in the fridge.
Don’t worry about sealing and boiling the jars unless you plan to make lots and keep it on the shelf. This recipe only makes 1 1/2 cups of jam, and trust me, it will be gone in less than a week!

Apricot lime jam bubbling away on the stove

 The best part about making this jam, is that I’ll get to take some back to the U.S. with me which will allow me to have a little taste of the Australian summer in the depth of Missouri winter.

Migration at the table

Today is International Migrants Day, and while it’s mainly a day set aside to create awareness about the difficult and complicated issues migrants deal with, according to a paragraph on a U.N. website it’s also a day of celebration:

“Migrants contribute greatly to the sense of cultural diversity in modern societies, and to our appreciation of the oneness of the human spirit. They give us the experience of living in a global neighbourhood.”

Perhaps nowhere is this more evident than in the food we eat.  Immigration is partially responsible for introducing us to so many wonderful new cuisines.  My current obsession is with pho, which is the heart and soul of Vietnam in a soup bowl.  Pho (pronounced “fuh” with a bit of an upward lilt to the end of the word– like you’re saying it as a question) is  beef and noodles in a rich, complex beef broth seasoned with star anise, cloves, cinnamon, ginger, and fish sauce.  Pho is typically garnished with bean sprouts, cilantro (coriander leaves), thai basil and chiles. 

Pho at the Vietnamese restaurant in Virgina, SA

There is no shortage of places to find pho in Adelaide, but my favorite discovery this year was in a little community near where I live about 45 minutes outside of the city.  Virginia, South Australia is pretty rural and home to many immigrant families who are market gardeners.  In the past, market gardening was the domain of Italian and Greek immigrants, and still is to some degree, but the new generation of market gardeners are typically Vietnamese.  So, tiny Virginia has a pho shop (right next to the bahn mi shop) where you can find workers taking a late morning break and enjoying steaming hot bowls of pho.

When I’m in there, I think about immigrants and the food traditions they bring with them.  Certainly when immigrants open restaurants it’s often a means of helping others like them feel connected to their homeland and the culture they left behind.  Some people might see an ethnic restaurant as a refusal to assimilate.  But I see it as a way of sharing their culture with their adopted country and as a means to gain acceptance.  When we eat that food, we are experiencing a culture in a very intimate way. Food is the only part of a culture that we physically ingest and make  part of our being.  So by eating the food of another culture, either conciously or unconciously, we are sending a message that we think they’re okay; that they are one of us and we are one of them.

Of course, it’s a big leap from acceptance of immigrant food traditions to acceptance of people, but coming to the migrant’s table is a good place to start.

The Real Food Movement Gains Momentum

When I called for Michael Pollan to the be the next food czar in an earlier post, it was a bit of a pipe dream.  Although there’s a larger grassroots movement afoot to nominate him for Secretary of Agriculture, the reality is that it won’t be him.  However, there is another petition going around now  (drafted in part by Pollan and other REAL FOOD advocates) asking President-Elect Obama to consider several progressive choices for Ag Sec.   And in today’s NY Times, Nicholas Kristof takes up the drumbeat as well.

What’s so interesting– and infuriating at times– are the arguments in the comments section to Kristof’s piece from those who dont’ want a government ‘food police’ telling us what we can and can not eat.  Here’s the thing:  those of us who want a Secretary of Food (and maybe agriculture) don’t want to be told what to eat either.  We just want people to have greater freedom to eat  REAL FOOD. 

Right now, we are essentially being “told” what to eat by Agribusiness.  This powerful lobby has helped make heavily processed food made from corn, soy and rice as well as factory farmed meat and poultry exceptionally cheap.  By comparison, fresh fruits and vegetables, whole grains, and humanely raised meat and poultry are expensive, which makes choosing REAL FOOD difficult for the budget concious and impossible for the poorest of Americans.  

Sure, there are probably people who signed this petition who would like to moralize and tell us all what to eat, but I would suspect that most people (like me) just want someone to come in and level the playing field for farmers who are trying–or would like to try– to grow real food.  Real progress will be made when, calorie-for-calorie, broccoli and a box of Rice Krispie Treats cost the same.

Of Camels and Quandongs

Some Australian scientists are freaking out about camels and say we’ve got to start eating them.  Apparently, there are about a million feral camels living in the middle of this sunburnt country and they’re wreaking environmental and all other kinds of havock.

I’ve done my part to help the cause this year, if purely for selfish reasons since I get perverse pleasure in trying new and somewhat shocking foods.  At the Prairie Hotel in Parachilna, South Australia (a full review is coming one of these days) I sampled camel mettwurst on a pizza, and a camel sausage from the so-called Feral Mixed Grill Platter.

Let’s just say that both the camel mettwurst and camel sausage had an interesting texture– not quite as toothsome as I’d like.  I asked the woman serving us about the camel and she told me it’s a very lean meat (i.e. tends to be tough and somewhat lacking in flavor), which is probably why it ends up ground into mince and stuffed into a sausage casing with some added fat and seasoning.   From what I’ve had so far, I wouldn’t line up for more. 

But here’s the rub.  These feral camels could cause quandongs to become extinct!  They’re out there in the desert eating this beautiful, tart red fruit and I’ll be damned if they’re going to deprive me of the pleasure of a this quandong pie from the Stone Hut Bakery when I want one:

Oh. That. Pie. 

The quandong filling is really tart on its own, but with a bite of that shortcrust pastry and the cream– it’s a taste trifecta. 

So feral camels take notice.*  Quandong-loving Aussies have put a bounty on your head.  We’re going to find a way to cook you so you’re palatable, and then we’ll chase that camel steak or roast or sausage or whatever we turn you into with a quandong pie.  Now that would be a just dessert.

 

* Note: I realize that this issue is not the camels’ fault. The shortsighted people who brought them to Australia back in the 1800s without realizing the environmental impact they could have are the ones to blame.  I blame the camels merely as a literary device, so please, no one accuse me of not understanding the issue or hating animals.  I’m fully aware of the nuances of this problem.  Thanks.

Egg gathering, Aussie style

 

Having lived in Australia for three years now, I’ve already come to take for granted the pleasure of farm gate sales of all sorts of foods.  But after seeing a recent post at Howling Duck Ranch about food sovereignty in British Columbia, I realized the sale of produce at small farms isn’t something any of us should take for granted if we are still privileged enough to enjoy it.  Sadly, ever-increasing government regulation of agriculture in North America is tilted in favor of giant industrial producers and makes experiences like the one I enjoyed today few and far between.

Normally, I get my eggs from my mother-in-law who keeps a few hens.  But the hens have grown a bit long in the tooth and have quit laying (think of it as poultry menopause).  So until her new hens ramp up production, I’m supplementing those eggs with some I can buy down the street from my house.

 

Follow the signs to find the eggs

Down the path... it's like an egg hunt!

The first time I went, I figured there would be somebody manning the egg sales.  Wrong.

It’s on the honor system.  How great is that?  

You put your $3.20 in the ice cream container…

…take your eggs out of the esky (a.k.a. styrofoam cooler)…

…and you’re on your way.  The only thing they ask is that you return the carton the next time you come back.

Just looking over some of the individual state regulations in the U.S., it appears  something like this would almost never fly because of refrigeration requirements, labeling and packaging regulations among other bureaucratic red tape.  It’s a shame, really. I understand that all those regulations are done in the name of safety, but I’ve never worried about whether the eggs I buy from someone’s house on the honor system are safe.  I figure if they trust me enough to leave my money, I can trust that they are selling a safe, wholesome product.  Personally, I’d worry a whole lot more about the quality and safety of eggs bought from a ginormous anonymous hatchery with all its strict government regulations than I would about eggs bought from my neighbor who has a little flock of chickens scratching around in his backyard.

Not quite loaves and fishes…

… but, darn it, I can make a lot of meals out of three chicken breasts.  Thirteen to be exact.  That’s right. 13. One-three.  

This post kicks off a new category on frugal cooking that I’ll do from time to time.  Money’s getting tighter for everyone, and having been a one income household for more than three years, I’ve already figured out ways to eat pretty well for less, especially when chicken breasts run about $10/kg ($5/lb) here.  Of course, whole chickens are much cheaper, but when chicken breasts are on sale I’ll grab them.  First, let me start by saying these were large chicken breasts and here in Australia they also leave the tender attached, so they weighed about 1 kg (2.2 lbs.).  Secondly, I did have to use other ingredients to compose those meals. 

Before I go any further, I’m going to get this over with now and out myself.  What I am about to admit could cost me any credibility I may have had with certain people who are obsessed with food.  In fact, it could even prevent me from getting a job at certain publications and websites that espouse a brand of culinary Luddism.  Here goes.  Some of the ingredients I used in these meals included Campbell’s Cream of Chicken and Cream of Mushroom Soup.  There.  I said it.  Moving on.

Here’s how I got those 13 meals.  First, I gently poached the chicken breasts then tore them into bite sized pieces.  The first night, I made a casserole from a church cookbook that included, among other things some chicken, sour cream and the aforementioned cream of something soup.  I served it over brown rice with a vegetable and fruit salad.  That made three meals.

The next dish was a tortilla casserole that included chicken, more of the dastardly soup, rotel and cheese.  Served with salad.  Four meals.

Then I made a delicious chicken lasagna– sans the soups (see recipe below)– and served it with brocolli and salad and that lasted four meals.  Tonight, with the remaining half cup or so of chicken I’m making a BBQ chicken pizza, which will feed two of us.  So there you have it. 13 meals on 1 kg. of chicken.  That’s less than 90 g (3 ozs.) per meal, which is not only good for the budget, it’s better for the environment to eat less meat.  And you know what? We didn’t even miss having a big hunk of meat front and center on the plate.

White Lasagna with Chicken, Mushrooms and Spinach
Serves 4-6

2 cups cooked chicken, torn into bite-sized pieces
6 no boil lasagna noodles (or regular noodles cooked to package directions)
12 ozs (300 g) mushrooms, roughly chopped
6 Tbsp. butter
1/2 large onion, chopped fine
1 clove garlic, minced
1/3 cup flour
1 1/2 cup chicken stock
3/4 cup milk
1 tsp. salt
3 cups of shredded mozzarella cheese
3/4 cup grated parmasean cheese
1 tsp. dried basil
1 tsp. dried oregano
Freshly ground pepper
8 oz. ricotta cheese
1 egg, lightly beaten
4 oz. frozen spinach thawed and drained
2 Tbsp. chopped fresh parsley

1. In a skillet melt 2 tablespoons of butter over medium heat and sautee mushrooms about 5 minutes. Remove from heat.
2. In a large pot, melt 4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) of butter over medium heat.
3. Add onion and garlic and sautee until softened. Watch the heat to make sure they don’t brown.
4. Add 1/3 cup flour and stir for about 1 minute.
5. Add chicken stock, milk and salt stirring constantly until the mixture starts to thicken a little.
6. Add 1 cup of the mozzarella and 1/4 cup parmesean and stir until cheese melts.
7. Add basil, oregano and pepper, the cooked chicken and sauteed mushrooms. Remove from heat and stir, just to incorporate the spices, chicken and mushrooms.
8. In a bowl, combine the ricotta and egg. Stir in the spinach.
9. Spray a 9-inch square baking dish with cooking spray and line it with 2 of the lasagna noodles.
10. Spread 1/3 of the chicken and mushroom mixture over the noodles, followed by 1/2 of the ricotta mixture, and about 1/3 of the remaining mozzarella and parmesean. Lightly sprinkle with more salt and pepper. Repeat with another layer of noodles, 1/3 of the chicken mixture, the rest of the ricotta, 1/3 of the cheeses and more salt and pepper.
11. Put on the final layer of noodles, top with remaining chicken mixture, mozzarella, parmesean and then sprinkle with chopped parsley.
12. Bake at 350 for about 30-35 minutes until bubbly and lightly browned on top.

Kind of food, kind of not, but funny

Does

 *

 

+

=

?

Nah.  It’s just a pet food store with a name that gave me a good laugh. 

 I’m sure the people at my local shopping center thought I was weird, laughing and taking photos of it. 

But it did make me wonder: What, exactly, would the zest of a pet be?

* I just realized my cat sort of looks like the “I can has cheezburger” cat in this pic.

Obama scorns the much maligned beet

Because Americans are obsessed with the everyday minutiae of our Commanders-in-Chief, today we get this report detailing Barack Obama’s– and the Obama family’s– eating habits.  A quick summation of the article: they dig Rick Bayless’ Mexican food, pizza, handmade pastas, and kicking back with some wine or maybe a margarita.  Much to my annoyance, the article also mentioned Obama eats “boutique salad greens” — a fact that was used in an attempt to brand him an elitist, which is so ridiculous I posted about that a few months ago.  You can’t even go to an Applebee’s these days and not find arugula on the menu.  But I digress.

But the one thing the Pres-elect reportedly won’t touch:  beets.  I know, I know.  Everyone has foods they don’t like.  But beets really aren’t that bad.  

 I think a visit to Australia might be just the thing to get Mr. Obama over his repulsion.  You see, beets (or beetroot as it is known here) are put on the delicacy known as the Aussie Burger w/the Lot.  “The Lot” is shorthand for all the other food they put on the burger which includes the aforementioned beetroot, pineapple, a fried egg, bacon, cheese, lettuce, tomato and onion.  They are a big, sloppy, burgery mess and they are GREAT! Plus, they’re the gateway food to more general beet eating.

So can Australia change Obama’s mind about beets?  YES WE CAN!!

P.S. I’m endeavouring to get a photo of a burger w/the lot.  Please stand by.

A victory for ugly veggies (and fruit)!

I’ve written about the plight of less-than aesthetically pleasing produce before here and here.  Finally, curvy cucumbers and contorted carrots are getting their comeuppance.  Well, in Europe anyway.  The EU has taken the bold step to relax rules put in place 20 years ago that banned the sale of blemished fruit and vegetables.

Personally, I love oddly-shaped specimens.  When I see them at the store, I’ll buy them.  I’m sort of like Charlie Brown when he gets the loser Christmas tree– everything deserves a chance.  Sometimes I’m a bit mean and will laugh at the them, like I did with this eggplant:

Is that a protusion on your eggplant or are you just happy to see me?

Other times I just marvel at their fabulous freakishness, like these webbed bananas:

Fuh-reaks!

But ultimately, I think the produce is just happy that someone picked it up, took it home and thought it was special enough to take a picture of it before gobbling it all up.

Who else out there buys ugly produce?  Take this poll:

Then, send me your photos of warped watermelons, bulbous brussels sprouts or squirrely squash (ooh, double points for that alliteration) and I’ll post them.  Because every fruit needs to feel good about itself.