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Here are some writing clips
from my Oakland Tribune/ANG Newspapers column, "Fork in the
Road," as well as Gourmet, Outside, Outside Traveler,
Diablo, San Francisco, and East Bay Monthly
magazines. For more clips of my work, including press releases for
my freelance clients, please email me at laurel@sustainablekitchen.com
ANG
NEWSPAPERS: Poking around for mud crabs in the swamps of Australia
“How do you know there’s no crocs in here?” I asked Vincent,
knowing full well that Western Australia’s mangrove swamps are prime
crocodile habitat.
“You just get a feeling,” he replied, adjusting his aviator
shades and stomping off, barefoot, through the knee-deep, sulphurous,
stinking, primordial muck. I
had no choice but to trust the fat Aboriginal guy with the CIA-style
glasses, so I followed, armed only with a three-foot long metal crabbing
stick and a pair of neoprene booties that did little to keep out the
smaller denizens of the mud. Minutes
later, as we waded across a small inlet, a six-foot reef shark thrashed
across our path. I swatted at the pterodactyl-size mosquitoes swarming
around my head.
Much is made, ad nauseum, of Australia’s toxic and toothy fauna,
but mingling with the wildlife was part of the experience here at Cape
Leveque. I was on the remote Dampier Peninsula in northern WA, visiting
Kooljaman Wilderness Camp, an aboriginal-owned eco-accomodation
overlooking the vivid turquoise waters, isolated white sand beaches, and
red pindan rock cliffs of the Indian Ocean.
Kooljaman,
which is owned by the Bardi people of the Djarindjin and One Arm Point
aborginal communities, organizes mudcrabbing trips, and I was eager to
forage this indigenous staple for myself.
Vincent, a member of the Jawi clan, has been leading mudcrabbing
tours for visitors to the region for years.
It’s an economic enterprise that also helps to raise awareness of
Aboriginal culture and preserve the tradition of foraging for “bush
tucker,” or indigenous foods, a way of life that is imperiled due to the
availability of processed takeaway foods available on aboriginal
communities.
The
Bardi and Jawi are coastal peoples who still augment their diet with the
wild foods of their region: mudcrabs,
fish, oysters, dugong, turtle eggs, sting ray, bush potatoes, bush passion
fruit, pandanus. While diners
in cosmopolitan Sydney or Melbourne might be hard pressed to find dugong,
or sea cow, on their plate, mudcrab is considered a delicacy in all
demographics because of it’s exceptionally sweet, tender, clean-tasting
meat, which is similar to our local Dungeness crab. And now that I’ve
experienced what’s involved in catching mudcrabs, I know exactly why
they cost so much. Whenever Vincent would point out a likely crab hole,
I’d thrust my stick inside, poking and prodding until I felt the irate
creature clamp on, then extricate it from it’s burrow. Given that mud
crabs are the size of large dinner plates, and their heavy claws are
capable of removing a finger in one swift pinch, considerable care is
required to complete the capture.
Several hours
work yielded four plump crabs. That
night, Vincent made his famous chili mud crab, sautéing the cracked
crustaceans with a prepared Asian sweet chili sauce, loads of garlic,
ginger, and fresh red chilies. Sweet,
succulent Dungeness crab makes a perfect substitute, and it will be in
season through May. Be sure
to purchase live crabs, to ensure freshness and the best flavor.
For
information on mudcrabbing and accommodations at Kooljaman Wilderness
Camp, call 011 08 9192 4970, or go to www.kooljaman.com.au.
Chili Mud Crab
Recipe
courtesy of Tourism Northern Territory, Australia. Serves 2
- One
2 ½ lb.live mud crab or
Dungeness crabs
- 1/4
cup peanut oil
- 4
cloves garlic
- 1
tablespoon grated ginger
- 1/2
cup tomato sauce
- 1/4
cup sweet chili sauce
- 1/2
cup of white wine
- 1
tablespoon light soy sauce
- 4
fresh red chilies, seeded and thinly sliced
- chopped
green onion, for garnish
Place
crab belly side up on cutting board and plunge large knife through pointy
flap, then remove flap and discard. Pull off claws and reserve, then
remove top shell, rinse, and reserve.
Remove and discard gut and spongy gills. Cut crab into quarters and
set aside.
Heat
oil in wok over medium high heat, and fry crab pieces until they change
color, which will take several minutes, turning frequently. Remove and set
aside. Lower heat and cook garlic, ginger and chilies until fragrant,
about 30 seconds. Add remaining ingredients and bring to a boil. Return
crab to the wok and stir to coat the crab. Reduce heat and allow to simmer
for another 3 minutes. Serve
with steamed rice.
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GOURMET:
Good Living- Verana
While a mule isn’t
everyone’s idea of the perfect bellhop, that’s exactly how your
luggage will be delivered at Verana, a secluded, seven “house” luxury
eco-hotel and spa in Yelapa, Mexico.
Located less than an hour south of the bustle of Puerto Vallarta
and accessible only by water taxi, Verana provides the type of serene
escapism sought by hardcore adventure junkies and high thread count-loving
hedonists alike. Husband and
wife team Heinz Legler and Veronique Lievre designed and built their dream
hotel entirely by hand from local, natural materials- a labor of love
partly born of necessity, as the tiny fishing village of Yelapa lacked
electricity until three years ago. Since there are no cars in Yelapa,
locals still rely on mules to transport materials.
Now
in it’s fifth year, Verana boasts a newly revamped spa, featuring a
watsu tub, outdoor massage and yoga platform, and edibly
delicious-sounding treatments such as coconut-sugar and hibiscus-papaya
body scrubs made from organically cultivated and wild ingredients foraged
on the property.
Although a stay at Verana requires a hike up twisting jungle path
to get to the actual hotel, you’ll be justly rewarded by the spectacular
views of Bahia de Yelapa. The
breezy ocher, annatto, and saffron-hued private houses are embellished by
the works of local artisans, found objects, stone sink basins, gauzy,
netted beds with natural fiber linens, hand hewn furniture, and tiled
outdoor showers. Our favorite, however, is the rustically luxe,
palm-thatched Palapa, with it’s open sides, inlaid stone floors and
killer cliffhanger vista.
Mealtimes
are the other draw at Verana, featuring rave worthy Latin American wines
and inspired takes on regional cuisine-with an emphasis on the daily local
catch- by Yelapa-born chef Fabian Huerta. Dishes such as seafood posole,
mahi empanadas with pumpkin seed salsa, and smoked marlin machaca include
organic ingredients grown on-site, including lemongrass, banana, lemon,
pineapple, mangoes, papaya, and herbs.
Need rejuvenating from a day of hiking to local waterfalls,
kayaking, or snorkeling (all of which the hotel will arrange for you)?
Ask one of the exceptionally accommodating staff to whirl up a licuado
or margarita made from fruit plucked right from the tree or vine, and
slide into the rimless pool perched on the hillside.
Verana
Season is November to June
www.verana.com
or call toll free from the United States, 800-530-7176.
Rooms
$250-$450, plus $65 per person for three meals per day (not optional)
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EAST
BAY MONTHLY
Real Food: Dim Sumptuous
Associations with The World of Suzie Wong and Jackie Chan
flicks notwithstanding, Hong Kong means different things to different
people. Some go for the bargains on everything from cameras to couture,
others for the thumping nightlife and easy access to other parts of Asia.
Politically conscious types visit to see how this former British
colony is faring since it’s 1997 return to China, although technically
the city and environs are considered a Special Administrative Region (SAR)
of the mainland. And Hong
Kong is faring quite well, thanks, with a booming economy and travel
options to suit every budget.
To a glutton such as myself, however, Hong Kong means dim sum. In a
city positively obsessed with eating, dim sum is perhaps Hong Kong’s
best known and most-loved culinary pastime.
Dim sum, which is variously translated as “touching or pointing
to the heart,” refers to a variety of steamed or fried dumplings, rice
flour rolls, and other small savory or sweet snacks.
While Westerners have openly embraced dim sum where dumplings are
concerned, some traditional dishes such as braised chicken feet (foong
jow) and steamed beef tripe with black bean and chili sauce (ngow
pahk yeep) have yet to catch on.
The Bay Area, however, is rife with dim sum houses, and customers
from all the region’s diverse ethnic groups can be seen feasting on this
most social of meals.
Although
dim sum is Cantonese (regionally now referred to as Gaungzhou) in origin,
today it reflects the multi-regional influences of Hunan, Shanghai,
Beijing, and other provinces in various ingredients and styles, such as
the inclusion of Hunan ham in a pan-fried root vegetable dish such as taro
cake. There are over 2,000
types of dim sum. In addition
to the aforementioned dumplings and rice flour rolls, there are spring
rolls, pan-fried cakes, baked or steamed buns, crepes, steamed rice dishes
wrapped in lotus leaves, bite-size meat dishes such as spare ribs or duck
feet, soups, or sweet puddings of tofu with sauces ranging from black
sesame to mango. Standard dim sum ingredients include dried Chinese
mushrooms, sweet lotus seed or bean paste, water chestnuts, bamboo shoots,
rice or wheat flour, glutinous rice, Chinese sausage, preserved pork
belly, dried shrimp, chives, ginger, garlic, fish, shellfish, poultry,
beef, or pork, although the Cantonese are widely known for eating
“everything under the sun,” so few animal or fish entrails or body
parts or fluids are off limits. Blood is commonly used as a thickening and
flavoring agent in soups or congees- rice gruels eaten as a breakfast,
midday, or late night restorative.
Dim
sum is thought to have originated during the Sun Dynasty of 960-1280 AD,
when drinking tea at teahouses became a popular custom after a day of
labor in the fields. The term
yum cha, or “to drink tea,” came to be synonymous with the
supplementation of small snacks, or dim sum.
Today, teahouses still abound throughout China, and Hong Kong has
it’s fair share. These are
gathering places where locals can gossip, drink, eat, and relax, although
many teahouses also cater to a more upscale clientele, or tourists. Here
in the Bay Area, dim sum is beginning to catch on at tea houses as well,
such as the small selection of daily offerings at the well-received
Imperial Tea Court in San Francisco’s Ferry Building.
Although
a variety of teas may be offered, the most common to drink with dim sum
include oolong, jasmine, or daffodil tea.
A charming tradition exists that is part of formal dining/dim sum
etiquette in China, dating back from when the Emperor Qian Long paid a
visit to the village of Jiang Nan in the 18th century.
Dressed as a commoner to avoid detection, the emperor was impressed
by the tea pouring skills of a local waiter (tradition mandating the tea
be poured from a considerable height above the cup), and in emulating him,
executed a flawless pour. The
emperor’s subjects, not wanting to expose his identity, developed a
subtle form of bowing and kowtowing to the great man:
they curled their fingers and knocked on the table with one hand.
Today, it is considered good form to perform this action to display
thanks and gratitude whenever someone refills your tea cup, which should
never be empty during a meal.
Dim sum is traditionally meant to be consumed communally; diners
pick what interests them from passing waiters who push carts loaded with
bamboo steamers or domed platters- the entire steamer or platter will then
be placed upon the table, and waiters will tally up the bill according to
how many platters or steamers you accumulate.
It is not considered bad form to pick morsels communally from the
central plate, although you should place your individual choices into your
own bowl or plate to catch any drips, or break apart large items using
your chopsticks. Dipping
bowls of sweet soy sauce, hot mustard (guy lath) and chili sauce (lath
ju yow) are used communally as well, although it is also common
to spoon some condiments onto your plate for personal use.
Tea is always the beverage of choice with dim sum.
Joyce Jue, a San Francisco-raised and based cooking instructor of
25 years, is also a food writer and cookbook author specializing in
Chinese and Southeast Asian cuisine. She regularly conducts Chinatown
tours and teaches classes on dim sum.
“One of the things I try to do on my tours is introduce people to
the more unusual and
delicious types of dim sum that they wouldn’t normally try on their own.
Steamed, then fried bean curd skin made into spring rolls, fresh
rice rolls, turnip cakes, braised duck feet, glutinous rice puffs deep
fried and filled with sweet bean paste or chopped pork, mushrooms, and
bamboo shoots, shark fin dumplings. The
tours are both cultural and culinary walks of Chinatown, but I love dim
sum, and want people to see traditional dishes.”
Dim Sum, Hong Kong Style
For an authentic teahouse experience in Hong Kong, although perhaps
not the best dim sum, 72-year old Luk Yu Teahouse in the city’s Central
District is considered an historic landmark.
Crotchety, white-coated old woman bustle about the small,
marble-floored teahouse, carrying battered aluminum trays filled with
assorted buns and dumplings around their necks. Over the din of dining
Cantonese businessmen and families, ceiling fans lazily circulate and hazy
sunlight filters through stained glass windows.
Don’t expect to know what you’re eating, however. During my
visit, I was the only Westerner there, and like most dim sum experiences
even here in the Bay Area, selection of dishes comes down to a game of
point and choose. My winning
pick was a giant, fluffy cha sui bao, or steamed bun, stuffed with
sweet barbecued pork.
At the elegant Hoi Lee
Fat restaurant in the Kowloon Hotel, I experienced a different type of dim
sum meal, minus the noise and billowing steam from passing carts and
trays. The har gow,
however, were excellent, with the requisite translucent dough and sweet,
briny crunch from the minced shrimp filling.
Also excellent were the dim sum from the immensely popular, massive
Super Star Seafood Restaurant in Kowloon, known for it’s whimsical,
animal-shaped dumplings.
Super
Star offers hands-on dim sum cooking classes by arrangement, and it was
here that I learned how to pleat my har gow and sek tau yu
(rockfish) dumplings. The
shaping of dim sum dumplings is not only an art form that requires skill
and dexterity, but the number and style of pleats or shape are specific to
each type of dumpling; in the case of har gow, the “shark fin”
pleat is said to replicate the shape of a gold ingot.
Although my sek tau yu tended to resemble brain tumors
rather than the goldfish they were meant to represent, the instructor was
kind, and they still tasted wonderful; the airy filling redolent of ginger
and garlic, the dough tender and whisper-thin.
In Jue’s cooking classes,
she, too, tends to stick to more traditional dumplings, which appeal to
students, but her primary goal is to teach people to enjoy cooking, as
well as the art and tradition behind foods like dim sum.
“I like to teach them the way it’s supposed to be, but if
it’s not exact, that’s fine. What
I’m trying to do is educate my students that there’s more than one
brand of soy sauce out there; Kikkoman is Japanese, not Chinese.
It’s a process of creating an awareness, people become more
attuned to ingredients, but at least if they learn the product exists,
I’m not so caught up in the origin.”
My favorite
dim sum came from a much-loved Cantonese restaurant chain in Hong Kong
called Tai Woo. At the
Kowloon location I dined at, our meal began with several dim sum-style
dishes, including a sweet, moist, steamed turnip cake (loh baak gao)
studded with lop cheong, or Chinese sausage; and cheung fun,
delicate, chewy rice noodle sheets rolled around pungent dried shrimp and
chives, both accompanied by both peanut and hoisin sauces for dipping.
Cheung fun can also be stuffed with whole shrimp,
beef, or barbecued pork, and is often favored as a breakfast treat, such
as the succulent shrimp ones I enjoyed from a food stall at the vibrant
Yau Ma Tei market in Kowloon, a not-to-be missed street market filled with
everything from produce, meat, and seafood, to vendors preparing sweet
dumplings and slicing tofu to order on the spot.
For
the adventurous food lover, Hong Kong has no shortage of culinary
treasures to enjoy, be they in the back alleys or high end restaurants.
Discover them all, or enjoy the experience right here at home.
For dim sum cooking
classes, contact the Harbour City Super Star Seafood Restaurant at least
one week in advance of your visit, Shop 4101, 4/F Harbour City, 21 Canton
Rd., Tsim Sha Tsui, Kowloon, Hong Kong, Tel. 2116 2618, www.superstarrest.com.hk.
For Joyce Jue’s
Chinatown Tours and cooking class information at Bay Area cooking schools,
email her at juekay@earthlink.net.
For more information
on visiting Hong Kong, go to www.discoverhongkong.com.
Local dim sum
dining: Be aware that
most of the below restaurants only serve dim sum for breakfast and lunch,
so call ahead to make sure of service hours.
Tin’s Tea House:
701 Webster St., Oakland, 510-832-7661, Tin’s Tea House Lounge, 1829 Mt.
Diablo Blvd., Walnut Creek, 925-287-8288. The Oakland is an old East Bay
favorite; popular sister restaurant in Walnut Creek opened in last year.
Yank Sing: 107
Spear, San Francisco, 415-957-9300. Bustling,
efficient, traditional cart service, and tasty dim sum at this SF
favorite, located in the atrium of the Rincon Center in the Financial
District.
Ton Kiang: 5821
Geary, San Francisco, 415-752-4440. Elegant, with cart service during the
day, dim sum menu at night.
Wing Lee Bakery:
503 Clement, San Francisco, 415-668-9481.
Ultra-cheap, ultra-good takeaway or dine in in this tiny
hole-in-the-wall in the Richmond.
City View
Restaurant: 662 Commercial, San Francisco, 415-398-2838. This is
Jue’s top pick for exposing her Chinatown culinary tour participants to
dim sum. “It’s on the the
edge of being contemporary, but without overdoing it,” she says.
New Asia Garden
Restaurant: 772 Pacific, San Francisco, 415-391-6666. One of Jue’s
favorites, this is a typically loud, frenetic, massive Hong Kong-style
banquet restaurant. Owned and operated by a fourth generation Chinese
family, they have traditional cart service.
Recipes
All Asian ingredients and
equipment can be found at ethnic markets and speciality food stores.
Loh Baak Gau (Pan-fried
Radish Pudding Cakes)
recipe
from Asian
Appetizers, by Joyce
Jue, (Harlow & Ratner, c.1998, $16.95)
Makes
about 16 squares
One
of Jue’s favorite Chinese tea-house specialties is Loh
Baak Gau, or pan-fried radish pudding cake. The inside is pudding-like
and smooth, with little radish lumps, while the outside is crusty. Chinese
radish looks like a white carrot and is best known by its Japanese name, daikon.
4 dried Chinese black mushrooms
one quarter cup dried shrimp (preferably tiny quarter-inch shrimp)
one and a quarter pounds Chinese white radish
1 cup chicken stock
1 Chinese sausage,
chopped or ½ cup diced Chinese barbecued pork
2 green onions, chopped
one and a half teaspoons sugar
1 teaspoon salt
big pinch of white pepper
one and a half cups rice flour
peanut oil for pan-frying
Chinese mustard and light soy sauce for dipping
In two separate bowls, cover the mushrooms and shrimp with warm
water for 20 minutes. When the mushrooms are soft and pliable, remove and
squeeze out the excess water from the mushrooms. Cut off and discard the
stems. Chop the caps and set aside. Drain the soaked shrimp and reserve
1/3 cup of the liquid. If large shrimp, finely chop and set aside.
Peel and coarsely grate the radish, about 4 cups. In a saucepan,
combine the radish, chicken stock and shrimp soaking liquid, cover and
simmer for 10 to 12 minutes or until tender. Add the chopped mushrooms,
shrimp, sausage, green onions, sugar, salt and white pepper. Mix together
thoroughly. When cool. Add the rice flour; stir to make a thick batter.
Lightly oil the bottom and sides of 8-inch square cake pan. (Round works
too.) Pour the radish pudding into the pan. Tap the pan gently on the
counter to release air bubbles. Evenly smooth out the mixture with a
spreader.
Set up a wok for steaming. Steam the radish pudding over
medium-high heat for 1 hour or until a toothpick inserted in the center
comes out clean. While steaming, check the water level frequently and if
needed, replenish with hot water. Let the pudding cool, then turn it out
on to a cutting board. Cut into 2- x 3-inch squares.
Preheat a frying pan over medium-high heat. Add a thin film of oil.
When hot, put the squares in the hot pan; pan-fry until lightly crisp and
browned, about 3 minutes. Turn over and brown the other side. Serve with
soy sauce and Chinese mustard.
Har
Gow (Shrimp Dumplings)
Rather
than using a rolling pin to flatten the dough for the dumplings, use the
flat side of a cleaver to flatten the dough balls into a circle. It will
take a bit of practice, but this technique will give you dough with the
requisite thinness. The water used for the dough needs to be boiling in
order to achieve the translucent quality prized in dim sum dumplings.
Recipe
courtesy of Super Star Seafood Restaurant, Harbour City, Tsim Sha
Tsui, Kowloon, Hong Kong
Makes
80 pieces
Dough
21 oz or 2 c. plus 5
oz. AP flour plus a pinch of potato starch
one and a third c.
boiling water
Filling
One and a half lb.
shelled shrimp, chopped medium fine- there should still be some small
chunks
Three and half oz.
pork fat or olive oil
One and a half t. salt
scant 2 t. powered
chicken bouillon
1 T. sugar
water and corn starch,
mixed into a slurry (to seal dumplings)
In a bowl, mix the flour and hot water to form a dough.
In a separate bowl, mix the
chopped shrimp until it becomes sticky and forms a paste.
Add pork fat or olive oil and seasonings, and mix well.
Roll the dough into a rope
about the thickness of a forefinger into small balls, about the size of a
half dollar. With the flat
side of a cleaver, flatten the balls until they are approximately the
thickness of a crepe, and place a tablespoon of filling inside each.
Wet the edges of each dumping with a small amount of corn starch
slurry, and pinch dumplings closed, or use a pastry crimper.
When finished, steam dumplings in batches in a bamboo steamer for
four minutes. Serve
immediately with dishes of soy sauce, chili paste, and hot mustard.
Scallion
Pancakes
Recipe
courtesy of Dim Sum: The Art of Chinese Tea Lunch, by Ellen Leong
Blonder, (Clarkson Potter, c. 2002, $25.00).
Makes
6 pancakes
One
and a half cups AP flour, plus additional for dusting
One half cup boiling water
Two tablespoons cold water
4 to 6 scallions, white and green parts, thinly sliced
1 tablespoon vegetable shortening
salt
2 to 4 tablespoons peanut oil
Sift
flour into a large bowl. Stir
in the boiling water to blend, then add cold water.
Knead dough on a lightly floured surface for four to five minutes,
until firm and elastic. Shape
dough into a ball, dust with flour, cover with plastic wrap, and let rest
for 30 minutes.
Preheat
oven to 200 degrees. Cover a
baking sheet with paper towels and set aside.
Divide
dough and scallions into six
equal portions. On a lightly
floured surface, roll out each piece into a seven and a half inch circle,
spread with half a teaspoon of vegetable shortening, and sprinkle with one
portion of the scallions to within a quarter-inch of the edge of each
circle, and lightly press into the dough.
Fold the dough circle into thirds, pinch ends closed, then roll up,
jelly-roll fashion. Coil
edges up into a circle, and flatten slightly into a five-inch circle.
Repeat procedure with remaining ingredients
Heat
nonstick skillet over medium-high heat, using one teaspoon of peanut oil
per pancake. Cook pancakes
one at a time, for two to three minutes per side or until golden.
Serve hot.
*You
may substitute toasted sesame or hot chili oil for the vegetable
shortening.
Ha
Choy Fun (Rice Flour Rolls with Shrimp)
Recipe
courtesy of Dim Sum: The Art of Chinese Tea Lunch, by Ellen Leong
Blonder, (Clarkson Potter, c. 2002, $25.00).
Makes
3, 8 to 9-inch squares
*note
you will need to have two separate water baths for this recipe; one to
steam pancakes in, and one to cool down steamed pancakes.
Three-quarters
cup rice flour (not glutinous rice flour)
1 tablespoon tapioca starch
one quarter teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon peanut oil
one half cup boiling water
approximately 21 peeled, deveined, cooked shrimp
chopped scallions for garnish
Oil nonstick 8 to 9-inch-square baking pan.
Fill a separate roasting pan large enough to accommodate baking pan
with cold water until it is three-quarters full.
You will need a lid large enough to cover oiled baking pan, or use
a baking sheet or aluminum foil, in order to form a tight cover to steam
the rice flour rolls.
In
medium bowl, combine rice flour, tapioca starch, salt, and peanut oil.
Add three quarters cup of cold water, and stir until smooth.
Stir in boiling water and stir until smooth.
Bring
water in roasting pan to a boil, then reduce to simmer.
Float oiled baking pan in roasting pan to heat through, then ladle
batter evenly into oiled ban, tilting to spread batter evenly. Cover
baking pan and steam for three to four minutes.
Transfer steamed pancakes to a baking pan set in a cold water bath.
Use
a wide, flat spatula to loosen rice sheets from edge of baking pan,
To
serve, place six or seven peeled, deveined, cooked shrimp on each rice
sheet, then roll up loosely
into a log and transfer to a
plate. Continue to re-oil and
prepare remaining pancakes as needed.
Garnish shrimp rolls with chopped scallions and serve with sweet
soy sauce and chili sauce on the side.
Serve immediately.
Sweet
Soy Sauce
Recipe
courtesy of Dim Sum: The Art of Chinese Tea Lunch, by Ellen Leong
Blonder, (Clarkson Potter, c. 2002, $25.00).
makes
one-third cup
2
tablespoons Chinese soy sauce
1 tablespoon sugar
2 teaspoons toasted sesame oil
2 teaspoons scallions, white and green parts, thinly sliced
In
a small saucepan, combine all ingredients but scallions, and heat over low
for one and a half minutes. Remove
from heat, place in small bowl, and add scallions.
Keep in refrigerator for up to two weeks, tightly covered.
Chili
Oil
Recipe
courtesy of Dim Sum: The Art of Chinese Tea Lunch, by Ellen Leong
Blonder, (Clarkson Potter, c. 2002, $25.00).
makes
three-quarters cup
three
quarters cup peanut oil
8-12 dried, red chiles with seeds, crumbled
1 garlic clove, peeled
In
a small saucepan, heat oil for two and a half to three minutes over medium
heat. Add chiles and garlic,
and cook for one minute, or until garlic sizzles and begins to color.
Remove from heat immediately, and allow to cool.
Transfer to clean, airtight jar for two to three days, then discard
garlic. Keep for up to two
weeks.
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SAN
FRANCISCO MAGAZINE: A Buzzing Enterprise
Lemonade stands,
it would seem, are passe. These
days, culinarily savvy Bay Area kids save for college by marketing
artisanal foods- like honey.
Philip
Dedlow, a cook at Chez Panisse, and his 10-year old daughter,
Temme, have turned their backyard three-hive, Berkeley “nano-apiary”
into a cottage industry, selling jars of raw honey produced from wild
blackberry, lavender, acacia, and salvia pollens at Berkeley’s Saturday
farmers market. The pair came up with the idea for Phil and
Temme’s North Berkeley Wildflower Honey as a way to spend some quality
time together. Dedlow, who has kept backyard bees for six years, says his
rule was that Temme had to be actively involved in every phase of the
venture. “She designed the
labels and signs, she calculates and does our sales, and she helps with
the harvest and extraction of honey from the combs,” he says.
Temme,
who prefers to eat her honey with buttered English muffins, tells
customers not to be put off by it’s cloudy appearance.
“Our honey is unfiltered, which is why it isn’t perfectly
smooth. But when it’s
slightly crystallized like that, it brings out other qualities- it’s
very sweet, with a creamy, delicate texture.”
For
wary young wannabe-beekeepers, Temme also offers this insight: “I tell
other kids you shouldn’t hurt bees, because they’re useful.
Unless they’re dying- then you can smash ‘em to make life
better for them.” *Laurel Miller Berkeley
Farmers' Market (Center St. at Martin Luther King Jr. Way), Saturdays 10am
to 3pm.
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ANG
NEWSPAPERS: Field Day- Dinners on the farm offer fresh
perspective
It’s an unusually warm day in Watsonville, and the scalloped
leaves of the pumpkin vines are drooping from the heat.
“We rarely see this type of weather here,” says organic farmer
Andy Griffin, who is leading a group of 50 dinner guests on a tour of his
friend and business partner Steven Pedersen’s farm, High Ground
Organics. “You can see how
it stresses the plants.”
Griffin is the owner of
Mariquita Farm, but today he is acting as tour guide while Pedersen and
his wife Jeanne Byrnes are attending a family wedding.
The two men market their produce through a CSA (Community Supported
Agriculture- a service in which subscribers receive weekly boxes of
organic produce delivered to their homes) called Two Small Farms.
High Ground Farm is a former dairy that was purchased and restored
through an agricultural easement made possible by Open Space Alliance (OSA),
a Santa Cruz County organization committed to the “permanent protection
of strategically identified open space lands with significant scenic and
natural qualities.” Pedersen
and Byrne were able to purchase the land for a special agricultural price
so they could farm it, thus protecting it from development and preserving
valuable farmland and the wetlands that make up one-third of the property.
We are here at High Ground because chef Lynn Sheehan is holding one
of her Farm to Table dinners, in which the organic produce, agricultural
products, and winemakers of Santa Cruz County are featured in seasonal
outdoor meals held at local farms. Tonight’s dinner is a benefit for OSA.
Sheehan is the chef/proprietor of Aptos’ Sand Rock Farm, a historic B
& B and arts retreat she helped renovate and now runs with her mother,
Kris. Her Farm to Table
dinners always include a tour of the host farm, so guests can learn about
sustainable farming practices and how some of the ingredients they will be
eating were grown, and to interact with the farmer.
While Sheehan, wearing in a broad straw hat as protection from the
sun, and her crew finish dinner preparations at the makeshift outdoor
kitchen, Griffin leads us to a block of strawberry plants poking up
through black plastic covering. As
we admire the quality of the plump red fruit, Griffin explains the
practicalities of growing organic versus conventional strawberries.
“Strawberries
only grow in a narrow coastal belt region here in California, which is why
some organic farms ask more for their crop- the land costs more. The
second year’s harvest on a planting will yield smaller fruit, which
results in a loss of profit because it takes more berries to fill up a
basket. It’s also not economical to just grow strawberries organically,
because they have a tendency to get knocked out by pathogens, which
requires frequent rotation of the berry patches, even as a preventative
measure. Strawberries are
also one of the most sprayed crops, because they’re susceptible to
spider mites. We release
predator mites to control them, but in conventional farming, they just
apply methyl bromide (which leaches into the water supply and has been
linked to ozone depletion) to the soil to kill pathogens, which enables
them to replant the same field year after year.
That depletes the soil of nutrients, which necessitates the use of
fertilizers. For sustainable
farmers, we have to balance economics with other things.
Using these plastic covers on our berry crop instead of mulch to
keep the soil moist is expensive, but effective.”
With the dinner hour approaching, Griffin shepherds us back to the
flower-adorned tables shaded by canvas umbrellas.
The tables, located next to the pumpkin patch, overlook a slough
that is home to numerous species of waterfowl.
The birds are an added benefit to the farm because, explains
Griffin, “They control rodents and insect pests more effectively than
spraying would.”
As we sit down to eat,
smiling, affable servers pour wine from Zayante Vineyards, from the Santa
Cruz Mountains. Tonight’s
menu is vegetarian because, says Sheehan, “I wanted to celebrate the
field, really focus on the produce since this is an OSA benefit.”
As the sun melts into the Pacific we dine on eclectic dishes such
as Sheehan’s spiced Charentais melon with toasted pumpkin seeds, grilled
torpedo onions and coconut milk rice, and roasted heirloom potato and beet
packets with young garlic and scallion aioli. There is a communal vibe of
conviviality, and shared awe at our surroundings.
“This type of event really opens up to the public how their food
is grown,” says Chris Allen of Sunnyvale.
“I think it’s great.” Allen
was encouraged to attend the dinner by his girlfriend, Terri Hauschild,
who is a Two Small Farms CSA subscriber.
“I attended tonight because I thought it was money going to a
good cause, and a way to educate myself,” she says.
“It’s great being able to meet Andy and hear him speak.
A lot of people give me flak about paying more for organic produce,
but the farm tour really explained the difficulties small, sustainable
farmers face, and why their product often costs more.”
Sheehan, who returned to Santa Cruz in 1999 after stints cooking in
France and at various prestigious Bay Area restaurants, found a way to
unite her two passions: cooking
and agriculture. “I wanted
to bring my two worlds together,” she says.
“I was living on a ranch in Petaluma and commuting to the city to
run a restaurant. I just
really wanted to showcase Santa Cruz County, focus on the local farms, and
increase the visibility of the incredible agricultural richness of this
area. It’s not just the
Boardwalk. It’s a very
diverse region in all respects, but who thinks of coming here culinarily?
I wanted to start with the winemakers- they’re a talented,
passionate bunch, producing great wine.
But sustainable farms are a draw now, as well.
My goal is to stay local. Why not?
I chose to come back here. What
better way to express the region than through these dinners?”
While Sheehan chooses to dedicate herself to promoting the farms of
Santa Cruz County, Jim Denevan is taking a more regionally expanded view.
Like Sheehan, Denevan is a local, having grown up near Santa Cruz.
After cooking in France and Italy and working on a local organic
farm, he became chef at Santa Cruz’s Gabriella Café in the early
‘90’s. In the mid
‘90’s, the restaurant began hosting farmer dinners, where local
growers whose products where featured on the seasonal menu would come,
give a talk, and dine with customers and staff, providing everyone with an
opportunity to literally connect with the agricultural lifeblood of the
region.
In 1999, Denevan held his
first farm dinner at Mariquita Farm.
From that event, Outstanding in the Field (OiTF) was born.
“My brother is an organic farmer in the Santa Cruz Mountains,”
he explains. “And I saw how
small farms struggled to survive, and wanted to support the people I’ve
bought produce from for years, as well as explore what regional products
the area had to offer. We
don’t have the access to that culture of food and contact with farmers
the way they do in Europe, and I wanted to see more of that here.
Outstanding in the Field is Denevan’s creation- an organization
dedicated to bringing together farmers, visiting chefs, winemakers, and
guests for a farm tour and dinner in a “restaurant without walls,” in
the fields and orchards of Bay Area sustainable farms.
At OiTF dinners, Denevan likes to feature not only the host
farmers, but also the other growers and artisans who have contributed to
the menu. “We’ll have the
cheese maker, the fisherman, the person who raised the lambs or the potter
who made the dinner plates, all at the table.
These are passionate people who are creating meaningful things.
When we shop at a farmers’ market or buy an artisanal food, we
aren’t just buying an object. We’re
buying something with a story, usually an interesting one.
I’m not a purist. I’m
willing to accept a certain amount of poison- we all drive automobiles.
But most chefs don’t have time, even if they have the interest,
to visit a farm. They pick up
the phone and place an order. My
goal is to feature chefs who are actively involved with their local,
sustainable family farms, regional winemakers; and to interest people in
and provide them with access to local products and promote a richness of
culture.”
This year, Denevan will hold his first farm dinners outside of the
Bay Area. This month, chef
Mark Peel of Campanile in Los Angeles will prepare a dinner at a farm in
Carpinteria, and in October chef Dan Barber of New York City’s Blue Hill
will do a dinner in the Hudson River Valley.
In 2004, Denevan plans to hold a seafood-focused dinner “on a
tidal flat in Puget Sound,” and one in Europe.
“In a way it takes away from being local, but doing this in other
regions,” he explains. “But
I’ve always had a strong interest in geography, and it provides an
opportunity to find what’s special in a region.
I don’t plan to become a jet setting farm dinner entrepreneur,”
he adds wryly
A week after Sheehan’s farm dinner in Watsonville, Denevan and
his crew are preparing dinner for 90 at a benefit for the Chez Panisse
Foundation, held in the peach orchards of Brentwood’s Frog Hollow Farm.
Organic farmer “Farmer
Al” Courchesne is conducting a tour of his farm, while guests sip Wente
Vineyards Brut Reserve sparkling wine and learn about how Courchesne
controls coddling moths to keep them from infesting his fruit trees.
His wife, pastry chef Becky Courchesne, is in the farm’s
commercial kitchen finishing preparations on her dessert, a peach Zuppa
Inglese. Meanwhile
Denevan’s cooks prep at the kitchen they’ve rigged up alongside the
45-seat long dining table that runs between a row of peach trees.
“I hope the guests will take away a greater sense of awareness
and appreciation for the land and the bounty it provides,” Al Courchesne
says later. “I think these
dinners renew or ignite their understanding and enjoyment of truly high
quality, locally produced foods. They
also play an important role in preserving and supporting food security,
the local economy, and our agricultural heritage.
I definitely see farm dinners as a growing trend. We’re planning
to do our own summer series of dinners, in order to build connections with
our community and with our neighboring farms. I feel appreciated by my
customers at the farmer’s market, and I don’t take their support for
granted, but for a farmer to be able to enjoy the camaraderie and beauty
of farming, and share the struggle with the same land policy issues as
fellow family farms, to bond with customers and guests, to recognize and
celebrate the labors of local chefs, farmers, and food artisans- all at
the same table…well, it’s an incredible thing.”
Says renowned cookbook author and guest Marion Cunningham, “The
thing I think is significant about farm dinners is they tell people
we’re losing lots more than just the rituals of the table at home.
We’re losing our farmland. If
only most people had access to or awareness of the availability of local,
sustainably-grown foods, it would be a great way to bring them back into
the kitchen, or to the table.”
Adds Alice Waters of Berkeley’s Chez Panisse, that evening’s
honored guest, “I hope guests are taking away with them how important it
is that we support the people taking care of the land. We need to not have
this type of benefit or educational dinner in a hotel, but in the types of
places that have the set of values we want to communicate.
I can’t think of a better place to have this type of dinner.
What could be better than a party in an orchard, with the fruit
hanging off the trees?”
While Madeline, the Courchesne’s four and-a-half month old
daughter, is passed around the table, the candles flicker, and the clink
of glassware and sound of laughter prevails, the atmosphere is decidedly
that of an enormous family gathering.
After leg of McCormack Ranch lamb and grilled lamb sausage with
shell bean ragout, the prelude to dessert arrives.
A plate is adorned only by a single, perfect, Cal Red peach
accompanied by shards of Fiscalini Farmstead Bandage Wrapped Cheddar and
Knoll Farm mint. The peach
tastes the epitome of peachiness; golden, sweet, dripping with juice,
eliciting rapturous signs the length of the table.
Waters stands up, wineglass raised in a toast.
“If you taste the right peach, you’ll want it again and go
seeking that. It’s how the
whole process of educating the public about food, and supporting small
farms begins. That’s what
these dinners are about.”
Recipes
For information on
upcoming farm dinners, go to the following websites:
Sand Rock Farm:
Historic B & B, retreats, and special events, catering, Farm to
Table dinners. www.sandrockfarm.com,
6901 Freedom Blvd., Aptos, (831)
688-8005
Outstanding in the
Field: www.outstandinginthefield.com,
toll-free, (877) 886-7409
Gabriella Café:
Farmer dinners are held every Thursday through early October.
Reservations are strongly recommended.
www.gabriellacafe.com,
910 Cedar St., Santa Cruz (831) 457-1677.
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NEWSPAPERS: Multicultural Adelaideans are savvy about food
“This is what Adelaideans do,” explains chef and restaurateur
Mark Gleeson, as we wander through the indoor Central Market of South
Australia’s small, charming capital city.
“The Market is a part of our lives, and has been for 135
years.” Gleeson, who
also owns the Providore, a Market shop that sells pastry and picnic items
such as prepared foods, condiments, and chocolates, leads public tours of
the Central Market. Today, I am his willing disciple as he introduces me
to vendors and explains the history of South Australia’s ethnic culinary
influences.
The Market, which is
owned by the city council, is far more than a tourist attraction.
It’s apparent from my first visit (during my 12-day stay in South
Australia, I managed to visit the market at least half a dozen times,
never tiring of it’s vibrant atmosphere and gorgeous food displays) that
Gleeson speaks the truth. The
Market is thronged with hungry locals shopping for weekend barbecues and
beach picnics, or enjoying coffee with friends or bowl of Malaysian beef rending.
Says Gleeson,
“Adelaideans are pretty savvy about food- we take an interest in how
it’s produced, where it’s from. Knowing the vendors who make or sell
it is part of the social fabric. We’re
a multi-cultural city- unlike the rest of the continent, South Australia
wasn’t settled by British convicts, and the market reflects that. Our
early settlers were German and Eastern European, followed by a wave of
Middle Eastern and Asian immigrants in recent decades.
All of these ethnic communities have had an impact on the market
and the food of the region.”
As we wander the raucous marketplace- a cacophony of sights and
smells and a refreshing lack of preciousness- Gleeson and I stop by some
of his favorite shops for tastes of local delicacies.
I am particularly enchanted by the Russian piroshkis at
Taldy Kurgan. These ample,
fried puffs of dough resemble yeasty, perfectly made doughnuts, except
they are stuffed with savory fillings of ground beef and rice, spinach and
feta, or braised cabbage. The
kind shop owners emigrated from Kazakhstan three years ago, and also sell
delicious handmade pelmeni (boiled meat dumplings) with yogurt, and
borscht. Over at Sevenhill
Fine Foods, Mr. Waldeck, a Polish refugee, sells traditional tastes of his
homeland, including makowiec, a poppy seed bread, and regional
charcuterie such as mettwurst and lachshinken.
Sun Mi runs a small stall selling her Korean take on made to order
sushi, while Tony O’Connell of O’Connell’s Quality Meats specializes
in local product, such as lamb. O’Connell,
47, started in his family’s shop at 15, and treats his customers like
relatives. As we watch him
portion lamb chops, he shows us a couple that are fattier than the rest.
Instead of tossing them aside, he gently tucks them into the
display case, murmuring, “We’ve got a couple of older ladies who will
be real happy with those, so we’ll keep them.”
At Foods of South Australia, the theme is both regional and
indigenous “bush tucker” ingredients such as lemon myrtle, wattleseed,
illawarra plum sauce, quandong jam, and flaky, red, Murray River salt.
House of Organic sells pristine, sustainably grown Australian
produce: Mildura asparagus, Adelaide Hills beurre bosc pears, kipfler
potatoes, and the seafood shops are stuffed with local Smoky Bay oysters,
sweet, teal-colored blue swimmer crabs, scallops in the shell with their
neon-orange roe, octopus of every size, and bugs, the delectable
Australian crustacean similar to slipper lobster.
Over at dough!, Turkish pide, and Lebanese flat bread compete for
space with quiche, pastry, and locally made, whole glaceed figs,
clementines, and kumquats, as well as plump, dried muscatel grapes from
Barossa Valley vineyards. If cheese is your thing, the Market won’t
disappoint. Smelly Cheese and
Say Cheese are the two primary cheese stalls, and both are stocked to
capacity with imported and Australian artisanal cheeses and housemade
condiments such as skordalia, marinated bocconcini, and pickled
octopus.
You’ll need to fuel up for all of this shopping.
Local’s love to have “brekkie” at Zuma’s, where they feast
on savory muffins or egg dishes, but my personal favorite is Asian
Gourmet. On a tip from a
laksa-loving local, I stopped by this unassuming restaurant within the
Market, which is famed for it’s utterly authentic version of the spicy,
coconut milk-thickened noodle soup. I’ve never had a better laksa, and I
returned at least four times to get my fix. Be sure to have the Singapore
version with yellow noodles- it’s the best four U.S. dollars you’ll
ever spend. Speaking of Asian
food, the Market is conveniently located adjacent to Adelaide’s thriving
micro-Chinatown and Gouger Street, which is lined with both cheap and
upscale Asian eats, most of which have sidewalk seating.
And that describes Adelaide in a nutshell:
residents may refer to it as just a “big country town,” but
that doesn’t do justice to this city of astonishing diversity and
quality ethnic cuisine. The
Central Market is a national treasure, and Adelaideans love of convivial,
adventurous dining and their pride in regional products make this a
must-visit on ever food-lover’s itinerary.
For Central
Market or Mark Gleeson’s Market tour information, go to www.centralmarkettour.com.au.
The following
recipe is about as simple as it gets, and is very reflective of the
region. Haloumi, a mild,
salty, semi-hard sheep’s cheese from Cyprus, is artisanally produced on
South Australia’s Kangaroo Island in the traditional manner- by pressing
mint between the blocks of cheese to provide subtle flavor. Fried haloumi
is a beloved regional treat. Serve
as an appetizer, as part of a salad, or as a dessert course, drizzled with
Greek honey and walnuts, or berries, when in season.
Fried Haloumi
recipe
courtesy of The Market- Stories, History & Recipes from the
Adelaide Central Market, by Catherine Murphy (Wakefield Press, $29.95)
Dust some slices of
good quality haloumi with flour. Fry
quickly in olive oil until golden on both sides.
Serve immediately with a squeeze of lemon and freshly ground black
pepper.
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