Freshworthy Friday: Dirty Food

Dirtying Up Our Diets
New York Times, Jeff D. Leach

I read this yesterday and immediately sent it out on Twitter and Facebook. Why? Because I totally agree. To add to the problems of today's food supply—it's too far from real food, it's too dirty, it's too processed—think about this. It's too clean. Way back in the day, we ate food off the floor (who started the 5-second rule, anyway?). These days, food allergies and autoimmune diseases are at "alarmingly" high rates, and the Leach argues it's because we're missing important stuff in our food supply. Namely, the dirt.

Leach goes on to write that we need microbes and pathogens in our bodies, much like probiotics introduce bacteria to our guts. And where do we get this dirt?

Farmer's markets.  Ohhhh yeah. Bring it on.

OVER 7,000 strong and growing, community farmers’ markets are being heralded as a panacea for what ails our sick nation. The smell of fresh, earthy goodness is the reason environmentalists approve of them, locavores can’t live without them, and the first lady has hitched her vegetable cart crusade to them. As health-giving as those bundles of mouthwatering leafy greens and crates of plump tomatoes are, the greatest social contribution of the farmers’ market may be its role as a delivery vehicle for putting dirt back into the American diet and in the process, reacquainting the human immune system with some “old friends.”

Having grown up on a farm, I got a taste of running around barefoot, shoveling hay into the trough for the cows, and picking caterpillar-ridden tomatoes from the garden ("Let's just cut that part off, and... perfect!"). While cleanliness is important to avoid really bad stuff, like salmonella or E. coli, a little bit of dirt never hurt anyone.

[Full disclosure: I habitually rinse before eating. I know, I grow 'em and I can trust 'em. But my mother must have drilled it into me at a very young age: rinse your food before you eat it, no matter where it came from! Also, when I was eating my thoroughly rinsed cherry tomatoes at lunch yesterday, I picked one up with a suspect-looking dot on the top. I pressed on the dot and out came a tiny (like, less than a centimeter long) green worm. I squealed as if a roach had just walked onto my plate and threw it directly into the trash.]

I was really struck by this article and hope all of you will read it and understand the importance—can we say it enough?—of eating food as close to the source as possible. Get to know your local farmers, and visit the farms if you can! Shop at the market, or grow your own food.

It's good for ya.

Oh! And another thing the author mentions briefly is that diets of the past included many more preserved and fermented foods. We don't eat as much of those as we used to, and I heard a compelling piece about fermented foods last week on NPR. 

Yes, compelling.

Fermented foods—anything from yogurt to kombucha to pickles, and including cheese, coffee, and alcohol—are wonderful for our guts and introduce a bunch of probiotics (good stuff) to our bodies. 

[Another fun me fact, since you asked: my favorite foods as a child were: 1) Dill pickles; 2) Hamburgers. I still LOVE dill pickles.]  

Lately... It's Lettuce.

Peppers, tomatoes, cucumbers, and herbs from the garden.

There's been a whole lotta cooking going on. Sunday I spent most of the day in the kitchen making casseroles. Five of them. With meat. Ryan lamented that, "It smells so good, and none of it's for me." (I also failed to take a single photo of the marathon cooking event; it's probably better this way because it was a little bit... chaotic.)

I had a grand ole time making King Ranch Chicken, lasagna, chicken spaghetti, and more for my lovely sister-in-law and her family. They're expecting their second child any day now and apparently I'm vicariously nesting by way of freezer-friendly casserole dishes. Poor Ryan. There was organic beef cooking on the stove in our home and it wasn't for him.

Once all the casseroles were shuttled to their house, we had only leafy greens and garden vegetables left. Which is just fine by this particular vegetarian-not-that-strict.

Let me tell you why this was particularly exciting: because my quick-pickled banana peppers would be the star of the show.

We have a bet going in our house. Hold on to your hats, this bet is c-r-a-z-y... That's just how we roll.

Ryan insists that "real" pickles (those processed in a hot water bath in a pot so big that it takes up two burners and takes almost two hours to reach full boil) taste better than "quick pickles," which are made with the exact same brine but left to pickle in the refrigerator for two weeks. I argue that quick pickles, made in the same brine but stored in the fridge instead of being fully processed, taste just as good.

While we haven't done the official pickle taste-test, the quick-pickled banana peppers were awesome. I also made tzatziki sauce with some of our garden cucumbers. Round it out with some homemade hummus, multi-grain tortillas, and a perfectly dressed salad, and you have yourself a bonafide Greek night. I'll admit that falafel would've been a nice touch.

Wordy Wednesday: The Life of a Farmer

Fallen zukes. Rest in peace, sweet plants.

It happened. 

Last week was a very busy week; we had fun social engagements every night and that left me very little time in the garden. So by Friday morning, when I noticed a little frass—the sawdust-like tell tale sign of squash vine borers—at the base of one, two, three... all SIX of our zucchini plants, I had a little melt-down. 

Here's the thing: there's little to no chance I could have totally prevented this. The fact that we've had two full months of unbelievable zucchini harvest thus far is remarkable in my book. Now happens to be the laying time for the vine borer moth and that means that the susceptible plants—those cucurbits with hollow stems—were especially vulnerable. 

I shed a couple of tears (because, in my own words, "I let my little plants down"), suffered through my husband's extreme eye-rolling at aforementioned tears, and then got to work performing surgery on the plants. 

Damage has been done.

"Surgery" meant taking a very sharp knife and slicing into the base of each of the stems. Any plants that show signs of wilting are probably goners.* But three of ours still looked strong, so I sliced into the stems and carefully pulled out the white inch-long grubs that were eating the plants from the inside out.

Then I stuck that sharp knife right through each of them, without any feelings of remorse for killing a living being, because those little bastards were eating my plants. A farmer has to put her foot down. Right on the bug that's doing the damage.

At that point, I poured BT worm killer, which is approved for organic gardening, into each of the stems and covered them with compost. Then I watered the bed and waited with bated breath.

Rescued, for now.

We lost a total of six plants, and the remaining squash plants don't look too great. But three of the zucchini plants are still alive. In fact, I picked two zucchini from the largest plant this week, and there are blooms and small fruits on the others as well.

This is what the garden looks like today—Wednesday, six days after the surgery.

The less-full bed with a couple of thriving living plants. I'll take it!

Hope, in the form of baby zucchini on the vine!

It's an important lesson in gardening. My mom says, reassuringly, "That's the life of a farmer." But the thing is, my livelihood doesn't depend on these plants; we simply grow them to enjoy and share them. I can't imagine the heartbreak caused by drought or natural disaster or unstoppable infestation for a farmer who supports her family with her crops. So I am grateful that we have this backyard garden to pick and choose from; it truly is a luxury, albeit one that involves a lot of work!

Meanwhile, we're eating from the garden every day and sharing as much as we're able (which is to say, when we remember to take it to friends and colleagues).

And the fact that our more susceptible cucurbits were attacked makes me hopeful for the rest of them; the butternut, cucumbers, watermelon, and cantaloupe are doing fine. The bugs can't get them all.

Today's garden harvest.

*I should also note that the squash vine borer can live in the soil; so it's best not to plant squash in the same bed for three years. It works out well, though, since we have enough raised beds to rotate. We'll also have to rotate our tomatoes, but more on that next time on the Gardenerd Chronicles.

Wordless Wednesday: Pretty Beans and Godzilla Zucchini

Jalapenos ready for pickling.

Heirloom pole beans in stunning purples and greens!

Strawberry-basil margarita recipe test #1: needed more tequila.

A typical garden harvest, twice a week.

The Godzilla Zucchini, which I missed on the vine: 2 pounds, 6 3/8 ounces = 11 cups grated.

Tomatillos that look like tiny paper lanterns. They're so beautiful!

When Life Hands You Zucchini...

What's left at our house of this week's harvest. Godzilla Zucchini weighs 2 lb, 6 oz.

Anyone have a recipe for zucchini-ade? Hang on while I Google that... (Of course! Zucchini-tini!)

I may have mentioned at one point that we planted our garden strategically this summer, hoping for a large crop of a smaller variety of veggies (as opposed to a large variety of vegetables with low yields).

Well. Large crop we've got.

My love for zucchini knows no bounds at this point; ask me again in a month and that answer may be different. In fact, zucchini salsa has been the find of the summer already, and it's not even June. This weekend, I whipped up a batch two batches of zucchini bread to share, giardienara pickles, zucchini salsa, and grilled zucchini enchiladas verdes (recipe forthcoming).

And it's funny; my stepmom asked me, after I touted my ten-pound harvest, "How many zucchini plants do you have?" "Six," I said, proudly. She hung her head in her hands. "Oh, wow. My mother told me to only plant one, it's all you'll ever need."

Maybe I've learned a little bit of a lesson for next season (plant only four zucchini plants?). That said, it's extremely rewarding to share this bumper crop with family and friends. I am not exaggerating to say I gave away ten pounds of home-grown vegetables to family this week (no, not just zucchini... a few peppers and squash, too!). It brings me so much happiness to share what we've grown. Tomorrow, I'll tote thirty-six zucchini muffins up to work to share with my colleagues. This evening, the neighbors are coming over for Sunday night zucchini dinner.

Maybe I'm missing my calling. Maybe I'm a little more like my farming ancestors than I first thought. Maybe I just need a big ole plot of land out in the country, and a tractor, and some goats.

But for now, I'm perfectly happy with our little backyard garden and its ridiculous yield of zucchini.

Squachos

The Zucchini Fairy made these zukes appear overnight. Most will be made into zucchini bread.

Thanks to an early and prolific summer garden, the squash/zucchini-to-person ratio in our house is currently about 5-to-1. We plucked five giant zucchini (and I do mean giant; the biggest one weighed in at 1 pound, 7 ounces) from our plants this weekend and doled them out to neighbors. But we still have plenty in the produce drawer at home.

Dinnertime was upon us, and I'm not sure if I was inspired by the thirst-quenching Lone Star I enjoyed or the garden surplus, but suddenly I had the second-greatest idea I've had this year:

Squachos.

Squachos: grilled yellow squash and jalapenos top run-of-the-mill nachos, elevating them to new heights.

Go ahead and let it settle in your brain for a moment. Squash and nachos coming together in one unmistakably easy and delicious dinner. Mmmm-hmmm.

The word popped into my head and I got myself into a full-on giggle fest, right there in the middle of the kitchen, with a chef's knife in one hand and a frosty beverage in the other. The absurdity of it all is not lost on me.

Growing up, my dad made us oven-broiled nachos every Sunday night. They are the perfect weekend-send-off food—cheap, easy, fast, tasty; qualities I appreciate now more than ever. I've even figured out how to make them healthier (black beans instead of refried, fresh veggies on top, and a little less cheese than before).

The squachos version involved just one extra step: grilling strips of pattypan squash in some olive oil and season salt prior to adding them to the nachos. I'm not sure this merits an actual recipe; you get the drift. Tortilla chips topped with cheese, black beans, grilled squash, fresh jalapenos, and baked at 450 until everything is toasty and the cheese is melted. I topped ours with store-bought tomatillo salsa and a few dollops of Greek yogurt.

Squachos are inspiring; I'm already thinking that squashadillas will be a regular part of our summertime diet, and I can't believe that I haven't already come up with the name "squacos" for these squash and zucchini soft tacos from last week.

The moral of the story is this: If you can't have fun cooking, why do it at all?

Wordless Wednesday: First Fruits

Cucumber vines putting out blooms and crawling up the trellises.

Zucchini plants blooming all down the row. 

The first banana pepper!

An heirloom pole bean snakes up its trellis.

A pattypan squash hangs like an ornament on the vine.

Pole beans and edamame look happy together.

First fruits: two zucchini and one pattypan squash harvested today!

Hempseed veggie burger with Texas goat cheese from Hopdoddy. 

Wordless Wednesday

Tiny garden carrots in a rainbow of colors.

Turnips and kohlrabi, ready for roasting.

Cabbage Salsa; recipe coming soon.

The 3-Egg Quiche

Today marks the beginning of Lent, and for the second year in a row I've tried to become vegan for 40 days, focusing only on the most basic, healthful foods to feed my mind, body, and spirit.

And though my intentions are totally noble, it's only 12:15 on the first day and I've failed. Breakfast came close—a smoothie of garden spinach, frozen blueberries and mango, almond milk, and a banana. And then only one tablespoon of milk in my coffee. (Can I get a medal?)

But you see, last Sunday evening, I made myself two quiches and—wouldn't you know—I'm still enjoying those leftovers. So lunch on Day 1 of my vegan diet includes a non-vegan pie crust, eggs, milk, and cheese.

Whoops.

In my defense... it's delicious and healthy. And while some quiche recipes call for a dozen eggs (that's what I'll make when the neighbors get chickens!), I managed to concoct two nine-inch quiches with only 5 eggs and one cup of milk.

This quiche is jam-packed with tons of vegetables and while it's not as eggy as most quiches are, it's still delectable (did I mention it's healthy?).

I cheated a bit and used store-bought organic whole wheat pie crusts, which made my life so easy and kept the kitchen cleaner. I used the time I saved with store-bought crusts to organize the pantry. Win-win.

Quiches are so highly adaptable that you can take this recipe or leave it. But here's what I did to use up some garden goodies before they went bad.

The 3-Egg Quiche with Broccoli and Kale
(Recipe makes enough filling for one standard 9" pie)


1 store-bought whole wheat crust (or best me and make your own!)
1 small head broccoli, chopped into florets and small pieces (use the stems, too, by chopping them small)
1 medium bunch kale, sliced into ribbons
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 onion, diced (about half a cup)
1 4-ounce can of diced Hatch green chiles (optional)
3 eggs
1/2 cup 1% milk
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1/3 cup shredded cheese, any variety
salt and pepper to taste


Prepare the veggies and set aside. Preheat the oven to 425 and blind-bake the crust for about 10 minutes—don't let it brown! While the crust is baking, heat a large, deep skillet with the olive oil. Saute the onions for a few minutes until they begin to turn translucent. Add the green chiles and a little salt and pepper. Toss in the broccoli, and continue cooking for about 3 minutes. Add the kale ribbons to the mix and cook all the vegetables together until they're nice and tender but still al dente. Taste to be sure the seasoning suits you; add a little more salt and pepper to taste.


When you remove the crust from the oven, turn the temperature down to 350. Pour the vegetables into the crust; they should fill up the crust, but not rise above the rim. Sprinkle the cheese on top of the veggies. Crack the eggs in a mixing bowl and whisk together with the milk and mustard.


Pour the egg mixture slowly over the vegetables, giving it enough time to seep down into every nook and cranny in the pie. The egg mixture should come just to the brim of the crust.


Bake at 350 for about 40 minutes, or until the eggs have set and the quiche doesn't jiggle when you shift it back and forth in the oven. (I checked mine at 35 minutes and it was doing great. Left it in the full 40 to get a little bit of golden brown on the tops of the cheesey bits.) Let the quiche rest for a few minutes before cutting it.


Serve warm with a side salad. This quiche is delicious reheated for lunch the next day—I've found that it reheats better in a toaster oven to keep the crust slightly crunchy!

Garden Tour

We have a lot growing in our backyard gardens right now. I'm telling you, winter gardening in Texas is remarkably rewarding. The bugs are at bay, the squirrels and birds have been entranced by our bird feeder, and the rain just keeps falling. 

Here's a little garden tour of our corner gardens. We just moved both the troughs here yesterday, and are quite happy with that decision. 

Garden Tour: click to zoom.

We have another raised bed on the other side of the yard which houses all of our greens (collards, chard, spinach, and kale). But you've seen it before... so here are some close-ups from this garden. 

Small turnips are very sweet and easy to peel.

Spaceship-like kohlrabi. You eat the bulbous stem of this vegetable.

Broccoli sprouting "secondary heads," which are small but delicious (and plentiful).

Broccoli with flowers; and yes, they're edible!

Are you growing a winter garden? How's it treating you?

A Lesson in Roasting

This is photo documentation of my first successful attempt at roasting tomatoes and peppers. I put them under the broiler on a cookie sheet, and they got nice and charred. The skins of the tomatoes came off in a cinch, but the peppers were a bit trickier. After the roasting experiment, I cut up some onion...jalapeno...garlic...and blended into my own version of roasted salsa. And it was pretty darned good.