Beet salad for a farm day

I spent all day Sunday at my clients' farm, hosting a foodies event for TasteDC. My client is a local high-end beef producer, so to emphasize the benefits of eating locally sourced foods, I volunteered to prepare a beet salad and fresh garden salad for 20 people, using only produce from the farmers market.

Saturday morning I schlepped down to the Waverly market in baseball cap and pajamas and gathered as many beets as I could find to make a new recipe from The New York Times food blog. I also loaded up on 6 heads of GORGEOUS Boston lettuce, grown hydroponically on the Eastern Shore. The farmer's table was nothing but Boston lettuce, and each head looked like a rose. It sounds totally cheesy, but the lettuce looked almost floral - like a table of green flower petals. I was entranced.

I spent the next 3 hours at home peeling beets in a white apron, and by the time I was done, I looked like a serial killer. My hands were stained red, and I had bright red smears all over my apron. Plus I was yielding a knife with much less respect than it deserved.

We served the beet salad and the garden salad on Sunday, along with copious amounts of gourmet beef, and the guests really seemed to enjoy it! I was anxious for feedback since this recipe calls for raw beets, and I always cook my beets before serving. I'll make it again, but on a smaller scale!

Going French

After a quick workout last night, I convinced Joe that we had enough ingredients at home to bypass an expensive dinner splurge at Whole Foods. (Poor guy. I could see him salivating just thinking about fresh salmon).

Turns out, I think we did QUITE well for creating an ad hoc menu with random produce leftover from Sunday's farmer's market. For starters, I took our four-day old baguette and sliced in half lengthwise. I set the oven to Broil and then sliced up red peppers, tomatoes, white onions and eggplant. I layered each vegetable across the baguette halves and drizzled olive oil, balsamic vinaigrette, basil and parmesan cheese. I put these bad boys on a cookie sheet and broiled for 8 minutes - just enough to soften the crunchy bread and blacken the tops of the veggies.

Meanwhile, Joe was manning the stovetop. He broke down whole yellow squash, zucchini and eggplant into a hearty soup seasoned with salt and fresh tarragon. Now here comes the French part. He served the soup in small bowls and placed one fried egg on top of each soup. The yolks were slightly undercooked, so they oozed when we cut into the egg. A really interesting combination of textures - pureed vegetable soup and chewy egg whites.

On a side note, I'd never paid close attention to how tarragon tastes independent of other flavors. To me, it was like eating licorice! I looked up how to make licorice in countries all over the world, but tarragon is no where to be found. I thought for sure they had to be cousins.

For a hastily compiled meal of straggling market produce, we were quite pleased with the results. Granted, we didn't start eating until 10pm, but isn't that what the French do anyway?

Labor Day in the Valley

I went to my parents' house in McGaheysville, VA, the heart of the Shenandoah Valley, for Labor Day weekend, knowing I'd feel a million miles away from Baltimore. And I did.

I met the fam for lunch Saturday at Earth and Tea Cafe in downtown Harrisonburg. I'm proud of conservative H'burg for supporting even this mildly exotic restaurant. (My home county is not the most "progressive", shall we say). The menu ranges from middle eastern dishes to South American  and African bites. I started with the East African soup of the day and the chicken curried salad. The best part, though, is the tea menu. I had the Chinese Fine Ti Kuan Yin, which, according to the menu description translates as the "Iron Goddess of Mercy" with a mild, orchid-like flavor. A small pot gets you three cups of tea. The decor feels like an Indian lounge. Lots of warm colors and tapestries. There's even a corner bed with curtains to curl up and read on in one corner. The dining tables are framed by pawn shop chairs and vintage couches. Disheveled but totally inviting. Perfect place to go on a chilly day with a good book.

I guess we were feeling a bit nostalgic because after lunch we walked down the street to the Rockingham County Library to check out our favorite childhood stories and see if they're still as good as they were way back when. We had this specific collection of ghost stories in mind, but I wanted to find all my Beverly Cleary books. Anyone else a fan of Ramona Quimby? Ramona the Pest? Beezus and Ramona? I can vividly remember my second grade teacher, Mrs. Burner, reading Ramona the Pest to us as we sat on the carpet at her feet. The book's threadbare cover was mauve, and I can see Mrs. Burner's gnarly knuckles supporting its broken spine. She would turn the book around to show us pictures of the characters running through our imaginations. My Ramona! I found her!

From the library, we crossed the street to the weekly farmer's market, which was all but packed up.  A Mennonite family had the most beautiful display of produce. Rockingham County is blessed to have a heavy traditional Mennonite population who take such pride in all their belongings. The produce was stalked perfectly by item so that no two types of produce were touching. I couldn't stop asking the farmer question after question about his gorgeous selection. We bought a patty pan squash and a carnival squash, neither of which I'd ever seen before but I had to have. And there's no rush to prepare them. These squash can hang around for months and still be good! (I like low maintenance vegetables like this!)

We had a hodge podge dinner on our back porch - ravioli with vodka sauce and portabello sausage for Timothy, fried okra for me, and canned corn for Erika. Maybe a nasty combination, but all comfort foods prepared with love. We took turns reading our long lost children's books out loud at the table. And yes, I still jumped at the scary stories as my brother read them. 

Waverly Market + Shakespeare = Great potential

I usually visit only the Sunday farmer's market under I-83, but I was anxious for a farmer's market today, so I made my first pilgrimage to Waverly Market on 32nd. Apparently this is the original Baltimore farmer's market, and people always sing its praises - even those who frequent the I-83 market. I needed to see what all the fuss was about.

True to form, I missed Barclay Street and had to drive around in search of a clear street sign. Waverly Market was a lot more organized than I-83 market. Neat white tents lined up in rows and seemingly fewer people. Unlike I-83, there were no vendors preparing food to order. It was all produce for sale.

I was so excited to see the first Maryland tomatoes! What a beautiful sight, all red and delicious. I was going through tomato withdrawal. I walked away with an aching shoulder from lugging around a full bag of veggies. But that's a pain I'm happy to endure :)

We're heading to the Shakespeare Summer Festival tonight at Evergreen Museum, and I've turned my morning purchases into delightful tapas for light snacking at the show. It's too hot to eat anything heavy, so fresh, simply prepared produce is a great compromise. We're off!