Fungus Amongus - Mushrooms in Maine

Sod it

It's raining at home, it's raining in Maine...so I said screw it and headed up to hang with Mom again for a few days.  Sadly, Mom and I managed to choose some real crap weeks for vacation.
But there is a bright side to all this rain.

MUSHROOMS!

Oh the mushrooms.


I'd tell you where I find em, but then I'd have to kill ya.

In all my years I have never seen the woods so full!

Lobster Mushrooms, really a mold not a fungus, but still yummy!

What you see above is again my stash from our local spot.  I only pick the ones I know, Chanterelle and Lobster.

I did pick one that I really, really think is a Trumpet Chanterelle OR a Pig's Ear Gomphus, but I need a good mycologist to help me out, and my favourite one passed away last year.

But sadly, it has a rather nasty guest.

Right now though, I'm making pickles.

Oh and dinner...Some lovely mussels with wine and scallions and garlic and all kinds of good stuff.  Yum.

Chanterelle

I drove up to Maine this week to hang up with my mom for a few days.  I had the week off and she is staying up there for a month. Our menfolk had to work.  I'm not sure if you have heard but it has been raining.  A lot.  That is not an understatement.

However I would like to show you the rewards of all this rain.

I picked these in about 15 minutes around our house and if the road verges weren't like small rivers when I left this morning I'd have at least a half a pound more and some lobster mushrooms. 

Since our little holiday was a washout Mom took me on the local gourmet tour of Maine.  I'll show you a few of my finds later.

Meanwhile, what should I do with those lovely chanterelle mushrooms?

Baza Gourmet Foods and Rhubarb Soda

This week at create a cook I had the pleasure of having one of my favourite students all week for Summer Harvest class.  Alasdair is home from boarding school in England and since he lives in my neighbourhood, I told his Mom I would drive him home a few days.  One day we hit the Cold Springs Park farmer's market and another day we decided to check out the new store off of Needham Street called Baza Gourmet Food.  The store is located behind the Filene's basement on Tower Road.

Anyone who knows me knows how much I love going in new grocery stores.  Poor husband has been dragged up and down many an aisle both here and abroad so I can look  and ooh and aah at things I may have never seen before and hopefully find some new treasure.  Thankfully, Alasdair feels the same way I do.  We grabbed our reusable shopping bags and found a cart.

I didn't have my camera with me for stealth photos so i am sorry to report that you will just have to go yourself to get the visual, but I can tell you some of the wild things they had.
The place feels like an upscale Trader Joe's in layout or maybe the Whole Foods in Brighton.  The ad I saw in the TAB mentioned Russian, Israeli, and world foods, but this place has a distinctly Eastern European feel. 

The produce was all very nice and fresh, but there weren't any surprises here.  Alasdair was thrilled to find both black and red currants and bought his mum a pint each to make a summer pudding.  The next section is dairy and we stood and stared at all the cheeses trying to determine what each would be used for.  There were quite a few fresh farmer's cheeses and one that we think could be grilled like a haloumi, but we had no way to know.  I have to nip back with my moleskine and get the name of it so I can look it up.  The meat section is mostly wrapped and packaged by the store with a few interesting things you don't see every day like cow feet, cut into sections, whole tongue and pork belly with skin in small 4 X 4 squares. 

The next case is an amazing assortment of smoked fish, most whole and it is like hitting the fish counter at Whole Foods with a staff member behind to help you select.  The coolest thing here were these shrink wrapped packs of sliced smoked fish arranged to look like crabs, sailboats, and fish so you could put them out at a party or function.

Further along is a cheese case with a nice selection, but many were the usual suspects like St Michelin, Parmiggiano-Reggiano, Emmenthaler, etc.

The wildest section is next.  It is absolutely hands down the largest charcuterie counter I have ever laid eyes on.  Salami and sausages form all over the world, pork head cheese, chicken head cheese, smoked, cured, dried, A-MAZING.  Follow this down and take a left and there is a prepared food section with a whole counter of pickled or soured items (Ah HELLO my FAVOURITE THING), they even had sour watermelon slices.  They have a large set up of prepared hot foods like stuffed cabbages, stroganoff, meatballs, etc.  Again, next trip I promise to write down more details.

Then came another incredible section of sausages that would make a mean choucroute this winter.  Alasdair was thrilled to find slab bacon as he was making a fish pie recently and couldn't find any. 

They have a nice bakery with a few counters full of confections.  None had signs so I wouldn't be able to tell you what they were and many of the staff didn't speak very good English.  Hey, I'm used to shopping at Super 88 so this should be no problem for me, but I can see it being a problem for some.

On the way to the registers we noticed a case of cold drinks and that is where we spied the rhubarb soda, of course we both snagged a bottle since we LOVE rhubarb.  Made by a company called Dry Soda out of Seattle I had high hopes.  Only 60 calories a bottle with very little sugar, which is what I like.  I hate sickly sweet drinks.  Unfortunately,  it didn't taste a thing like rhubarb, it rather tasted sock like. Of course I haven't eaten many socks in my day, but I just can't describe it any other way.  Next time I'll try the lemongrass.  I'll have to find out what Alasdair thought on Monday.  We scoped out all the aisles of jams and preserves, canned and jarred and pickled things and headed home.  Alasdair was getting a beehive oven delivered that day and he couldn't wait to get home and start making dough. 

Yea, he's 11. How can you not love him?

Pasties and a G string**...oops, not that kind

Pasties. 

A loaded word if you don't know how to pronounce it.  Past-eez never Paste-eez, Got it?  And never Paste-eez in front of a room of 9-11 year olds who will thusly repeat it to their parents. 

"What did you make today honey?"  "Pasties!"   You know who are.


Making pasties in a shop window on the road to Tintagel Castle, Tintagel, Cornwall.


I never thought he would be able to enclose all that filling.

Traditional Cornish pasties are meat, potato and onion, sometimes a swede or turnip is added.  No more, No less.  An easy lunch to take with you down to the mines, and when eaten with dirty hands it could be held by the edge of the crust which was then discarded.  Just don't take them out fishing with you.

In the next room there was a pastry sheeter rolling out the dough into long sheets and then a die press came down and cut the perfect circles.  It was mesmerizing to watch.

Tintagel is, according to legend, the birthplace of King Arthur.

Many of the walls in this area were built in this beautiful chevron pattern.  Don't you love the flowers?

**You know where those lyrics in the title come from don't you?

Beera Farm and B&B near Dartmoor, Devon

When we began planning our trip we knew we would be driving around and would likely need to stay one or two days in a location before moving on.  I started researching B&B's and then discovered a whole site devoted to staying on working farms in the U.K. that are also B&B's.  This was how we came upon my favourite place we stayed on our trip, Beera Farm

Robert is the farmer and his wife Hilary is not only a trained cook, but she manages to run the B&B, help out around the farm and raise three sweet boys.

We drove through Dartmoor Forest and the Moors and stopped to watch the wild horses.

And pondered driving back to here to eat dinner at the Dartmoor Inn (white building to the left on the upslope of the hill).

We arrived down a single track road into the Tamar valley and pulled up at a beautiful house. After the introductions were made and the luggage was hauled in I asked about the animals. 
Hilary summoned her middle boy with the call of "another one to meet the puppy please."

I'd like you to meet Digger. 

He's in training.  Well, really pre-training  He's 3 months old and full, FULL of spitfire.

He'll likely be learning some of his chops from Lassie.  I have never before seen a dog adore and worship her master as much as Lassie adores Robert.  She literally would wrap herself around his leg and lean into him as much as possible all while looking up at him adoringly. 

I spent quite awhile talking with Robert about the farm, the animals he raises, what it's like to be a farmer in England, the changes wrought from the hoof and mouth incident 8 years ago, how being a tenant farmer works and a million other things.  Robert is quiet and reserved, but very passionate about what he does.

Robert took over the farm from his father after sitting an advanced farm management course.  I asked him whether he thought the boys would become farmers and he told me about tenant farming and how the rules have changed three times since his father's time.  The original laws granted tenancy to 3 generations.  During his father's tenure on the farm they changed the law to only allow his tenancy until he was aged 62.  A few years later, the rules changed again, there was a tax benefit to the landlord if he changed the tenancy rules allowing Robert's father to remain until he was aged 62 and then Robert was allowed to take over the farm and remain until he is also 62, this means either he has to buy his own farm, or negotiate with the current landlord, to allow his boys to run the farm, if that is indeed what they wish to do. He said that though it was hard work, there were days when he realised how idyllic a life they have.  The farm rolls over the hills and down to the river on one side and up the hill to the border of another estate on the other side, with acres on the other side of the road.  They live off of a single track road so the boys can roam and run around and ride their bikes wherever they please without worry.

Robert outside the orphan room, the trough is one half of a grist mill wheel.

The landlord owns a large chunk of the valley and the farm is part of a 3000 acre holding originally held by the Duke of Bedford.  Robert and his family are responsible for maintaining the interior of the house, all the stone walls and fencing and of course working the farm to the landlords satisfaction.  But I realised in talking to him that the farming life is nary as simple as we sometimes think it to be.

Every year he heads up to Yorkshire to buy his ewes.  This year, about 850. Each ewe has a yield of approx 1.8 lambs.  Don't ask how we get 1.8.  Some will perish from disease.  Some ewe's milk will dry up and either Robert and his family hand rear them, at a cost higher than the worth of the lamb at market, or they let nature 'run its course' and due to new regulations after the Hoof and Mouth incident they must pay a man to come and remove deceased lambs rather than dispose of them in the 'traditional' methods (burning or a large cement lined pit) and the cost is based on 2 lambs so it pays to 'wait' until 2 don't make it before you call the man in.  Facts of life and death maam.

When I was wandering around one morning taking photos I heard a bleating in the long barn and later Robert took me in to the 'Orphan Room'.  Hilary had bought milk powder in town and they had a large bucket rigged up with nipples for the lambs to feed.  As I stood there taking pictures the lambs eventually wandered up and first tried to suckle my lens cap that was hanging down and then later they had at my fingers.  Those lambs have some mean teeth!!  Robert laughed and told me those were the second set of nipples already on the bucket, they had already chewed off the first set.  No wonder I saw some of the ewe's trying to escape from their lambs!  This year the ewe's yielded 1650 lambs. 

I asked Robert if they raised the lambs for wool at all, and he told me that they were exclusively raised for meat.  It costs 1 pound to shear a sheep and on the open market the wool is only worth 40 pence.  Hardly a money making effort.  But don't think that raising them for meat is easy either, there are a slew of variables that determine how much you get paid. You need to take your sheep to market when it weighs 41 kilos.  This weight will yield about 21 kilos of usable meat.  If the animal weighs more or yields more than 21 kilos you will still only be paid for 21 kilos.  It would seem that the containers that the buyers utilize will hold no more than 21 kilos, so everything on top of that is excess.  There are also other factors that determine how much you are paid per sheep.  There is the E.U.R.O.P method to determine whether the shape of the animal is 'ideal'.  'R' is the middle or basic and animals classed as 'E' or 'U' will yield you a few more pounds, animals classed as 'O' or 'P' less so.  There is also another set of classifications for the fat in relation to the meat.  As all cooks know, fat equals flavour and beef with a higher marbling or fat content is graded higher and therefore worth more, not so with lamb.  They have a set amount of fat that they will allow in order to receive premium pricing, more fat yields a lower price so often that is the meat that the farmer will take home and use for his family, or lucky farmhouse diners.

We also talked about new Zealand lamb and how it has dominated the British lamb market as much as it has in the States.  Robert told me that it made inroads initially as a payback for help during the war.  An agreement was reached that the U.K. would import a certain amount of meat every year.  In theory this would work out as a win/win situation since the lamb season in New Zealand runs at the opposite time of year from the lamb season in the U.K., however last year the market seemed to be flooded with New Zealand imports during the spring which is traditionally when the British lamb comes to market.  Robert blames the large supermarket chains for bringing in the imports and keeping the price of British lamb artificially low.  I had told him about Stillman farms and out meat CSA and how it works and we talked about the movement in both countries for eating things seasonally and locally.  He said Waitrose had approached him about selling his lamb exclusively to them for a higher rice than he could get on the open market.  This would allow them to label the meat as local.  Robert sells his lambs using a co-op and the problem is Waitrose will not allow anyone to sell the lamb to them via a co-op, they want it sold directly to them.  Robert said what needs to happen is farms in the Devon area need to band together and form a large group of farmers who raise and sell the product as Devon raised local lamb.  He says a few farmers are interested, but not enough right now to make a statement.  Perhaps when some of these farms move over to be run by a newer generation this might be possible.

On the other side of the farmyard are Robert's newest venture.  He has purchased a few Charolais cows, yes, the same Charolais from Charolle, Burgundy, I wish we were going to be around to try these. When i mentioned that we never see these in the States he told me that we do raise them here.  I'm going to hunt around to see if I can get my hands on some of the meat to see if it is as good as I have heard.

These ladies are in the upper pen and there are a few more out in one of the other fields.  Raising cattle is a new venture for Robert and one that I hope will be successful.

I really loved staying here.  Both Hilary and Robert are fabulous hosts, never once did I feel like we were invading someone's home.  Our room was large and beautifully furnished, Hilary went out of her way to book me into the local pub for dinner and offered advice on things to see locally and places to eat, and poor Robert spent loads of time answering all of my questions all without stifling a yawn or laughing at the crazy New England Yankee who thinks sheep are cute.  If you ever find yourself in this little corner of Devon be sure to book yourself a room here, I know I will if we ever get back and this time I'm going to have Hilary cook for me.

Robert and Hilary Tucker
Beera Farm
Milton Abbot
Tavistock, Devon PL19 8PL

tel: 01822 870216

A little bit of heaven


The Cheese Hamlet - West Didsbury, Manchester, UK


and this market is just next door.  Now that is what I call shopping.

...more later when I get back from Maine! 

Striped Bass with Potato, Corn and Sungold salad with Herb Oil

The day stared out with my weekly trek to the Waltham Farmer's market, basket in hand and no distinct ideas about what I would be cooking.  I picked up some corn, a bunch of red onions, a few fresh dug potatoes, a zucchini and a basket of peaches. After a winding ride over to Russell's in Wayland for a few monarda to appease our new hummingbird visitor and an anemone to flower through to the frost I wound my way over to Wellesley to go back to Captain Marden's.

I've lived in Newton for 12 years now and after years of complaining that I live in New England, 12 miles as the crow flies from water and I can't find a decent fish market I finally have found one, right on my back doorstep.  Whole paycheck was really beginning to get on my nerves.  Several afternoons after work I tried to stop buy and buy some fresh fish for dinner only to find salmon and tilapia to be my only choices.  I hate both.  Well, let me clarify here, I love salmon raw, I love salmon smoked, I absolutely hate salmon cooked. Trust me, I've tried that recipe too, I still hate it. My only knowledge of Captain Marden's was seeing their preprepared frozen dinners in the freezer case of my local grocery store.  You know the kind, cod stuffed with a bread filling or fish sprinkled in buttered crumbs, etc. I think I had this twisted idea of Captain Marden's as being one of these blue rinse places.  I could not have been further from wrong.  Located off the main drag in Wellesley one half of the building holds a sit down restaurant and the other half is a large, clean fish market stocked to the gills (sorry I had to) with more kinds of fish in one place than your local Super 88.

Soft shell crabs, steamers, lobster tanks, coho salmon, lemon sole, mahi mahi, striped bass, halibut (steak and filet thank you very much), trout, snapper, the list goes on and on. The great staff will tell you all you need to know about the catch, cut you a piece to order, offer suggestions on how to cook it or tell you how much you might need per person if you were say throwing a dinner party.  If you walked in to the shop with your eyes closed you would not know that you were in a fish market at all.  That my friends is some FRESH FISH. Consider this my new home for finding fish on my side of the river.

I bought a piece of striped bass and started calculating how I was going to cook it as I packed the cooler in the truck and headed off to buy a few more ingredients.

Since I had never had Striper before or Rockfish for you mid Atlantic folks I decided simple was the best option for the first time.

First I made a salad of sungold tomatoes out of the garden sliced in half and tossed with corn cut off the cob and left raw, half of a red onion sliced ultra thin on my ceramic hand slicer, a few basil leaves plucked from out back stacked, rolled like a cigar and snipped into thin strips with scissors.  Drizzle some peppery Tuscan EVOO and a sprinkle of champagne vinegar, season with sea salt and toss it all together with your hands.  Cooking is so much better when it is a tactile event.

Then I took those fresh potatoes, cooked them for about 5 minutes until they were just starting to get soft, drained them, cut them in thick slices and sauteed them in some olive oil and a little butter for colour.  In the center of the pan I cooked more of the thin shaved onions to make frizzled onions. 

Back into the garden I plucked some chive,thyme and oregano I snipped that with scissors into the blender, put in a few TBS of my garlic confit (from the French Laundry, cook garlic cloves in good olive oil on ultra low heat for an hour or two until soft, preserve in the oil and store in the fridge - use liberally) that was hanging out in the fridge.  I kicked on the blender whired it all up with more EVOO.

I took the fish, scored through the skin, rubbed in sea salt and loads of fresh ground black pepper. This went into a searingly hot pan coated with a little canola and seared for about 4 minutes.  After checking that the skin was crisp it was flipped over and cooked for 1 minute.  I took it out of the pan, put it in the oven at 400 to finish it.  For fish the rule is 10 minutes per inch of thickness so it hung out for about 4 - 5 more minutes and then it was all plated together.

A bed of those potatoes, on went the fish, on the sides went the corn salad and over the fish some of that herb oil passed through a small sieve and sprinkled on top, the frizzled onions.

This was the antidote to the week of barbecue, pork and pork with a side of chicken and pork fest.

I loved the striper, meaty and clean tasting with a texture a bit like skate wing.  I'll be buying this fish again and again.  I made husband taste a bit as he wasn't brave enough to "risk" his dinner on a fish he had never tried before (I made him halibut and mushy peas, cause people he's a BRIT he likes mushy peas from a CAN), he smiled a nod of approval so I do believe a new fish may be added to his repertoire as well of course he'll still want it fried with mushy peas, but it's a start people, it's a start!

Meet Tom


Meet Tom.

Tom currently resides at Owen's Poultry Farm in Needham, although I couldn't tell you for how long.

I planned my shopping attack last night.  Up at 6:00, dressed and showered by 7:30 and out the door.

First stop, Owen's.  They open at 8:00, I arrived at about 8:10 to no parking spots left and a queue of about 20 people inside the store.  Owen's has plenty of practice however at this little holiday of ours.  First you stop by a table, give them your name, if you ordered ahead, or tell them your wishes to see if they can make them come true. My request for an 8 pound breast was met with a little hemming and hawing, but eventually I was handed a little slip of paper that read, 8 T.B.
I took my place in the queue and glanced in all the freezer cases to see if there would be any other purchases.  They have store made, stuffing, gravy, pot pies, stuffed chicken and turkey breasts and plenty of other pre-prepared foods.  Not for me thank you.
I did grab a bottle of apple cider that proudly declared non-pasteurized on the label.  That will likely find it's way into some stuffing and maybe even the turkey brine.
At the front of the line I held up my slip, he glanced at the paper and yelled out back, "8 pound breast". I wondered how many young guys have worked there and sniggered at the annual turkey day rush.
Bring cash or checks when you do go visit Owen's as they don't take credit cards.  There is an ATM inside near the registers if your desperate.
I loaded my bird and some farm fresh eggs into my cooler bag and went down to visit the local denizens.

The turkeys get to hang out on this porch.

They are a very curious lot and all crowded around to make turkey noises at me while I snapped some photos.  I had hoped to have my copy of 'The Turkey - An American Story by Andrew F.Smith' fully read and analyzed so I could pepper you with some amazing turkey factoids, but things have been a bit crazy around here lately. 

Monday saw me on a 12 hour day at Cambridge assisting in a class in the morning and a pie emergency in the afternoon.  What?  You've never had a pie emergency?  I can tell you how to make 35 pounds of pate sucree in a pinch if you need it.

A few of the tidbits I have gleaned from the book thus far;

Turkeys can see 320 degrees without turning their heads.


Males( and some females) have a beard, this hairlike protrusion that sticks out of their chest.

The growth on their head is called a caruncle, the dangly bit that hangs over the beak is a snood, and the wobbly bit that hangs from the beak down to the neck is called a wattle.


After hanging out with the gobblers for a bit I walked down to the other pen to see who was about.
I bent down to look between the fence slats and this was the face that greeted me.

What size breast do think this is?

More on Turkey Day later.

Owen's Poultry Farm, 585 Central Ave, Needham MA, 02494

20 teens and 1 Durian Fruit

The past week at create-a-cook has been Around the World in 5 days.  We all chose recipes that we hoped would introduce the kids to some new things.  On my side in savory they made Picadillo, Paella, Salad Nicoise, Jerk Chicken. Chicken Mole, Moroccan Kebabs and couscous, and a couple of stir fry.
We hadn't chosen a field trip yet for the week when I suggested maybe Super 88 would be a great place.
I took R over on Wednesday to show her around so she could lead the troops though on Thursday.

Super 88, for the uninitiated is a local chain of Asian Grocery stores that carries an enormous range of fresh produce, live seafood and every imaginable pickle, chutney and chow chow ingredient.
I walked R through the produce explaining the yard long beans, the various peppers and mushrooms, the Chinese Chive, Thai eggplants and Dragon fruit.

I tried to find the elusive bottle of 'Essence of Giant WaterBug' that I saw on my last trip. What?  You've never had Giant WaterBug?  Shame on you!  Here, try some Giant Waterbug curry.
They did, however, have a bottle of Durian Essence.  More on that later.

We wandered down towards the live tanks and I showed her the box of live conch and Blue Crab.  The tanks were full of Tilapia, Giant Carp and a few other fish I didn't recognize.  The case of cut fish had one labeled 'Giant Head Fish'.  Talk about understatement.

I took her over to the meat section and we talked about the Asians being the original recyclers.  No part of the animal was ever wasted.  There were a few items in these cases that I thought would surely make the kids who were already wary of touching raw meat go right over the line to land of vegetarians. 

We saw packages of Duck Tongue, Chicken feet (seasoned and not), tripe as well as another cow stomach that looked very different more solid less netted, pig heart, pig ears, intestine, and my personal favourite package was....Cock's testicles.  What do you do with an entire package of cock's testicles?  Make poppers?

I remembered that one fruit was kept over in the meat section and I led her towards the case.
I explained the Durian fruit, the smell like that of putrid flesh, how it is banned from airplanes and hotels because of the stench.  Of course, we bought one.  We also picked up a Dragon fruit and some fresh lychee for the kids to try back at c-a-c on Friday.

I didn't go with them on the field trip, I was working at CSCA that day, but I made sure to tell the kids to look for Bubble tea and tell me all their stories when they got back.

Friday, back at c-a-c, I went in to each classroom when I arrived and asked how everyone liked their trip.  The girls had tried bubble tea.  Some loved it and some were disgusted by the big tapioca balls.  They all pointed to one of the girls and said I should have seen her face when she unknowingly sucked on the straw and got a huge pearl in her mouth. They ate lunch in the food court, some trying Indian, some Thai.  R said that they looked at everything but that it was hard to keep them all together to explain about all the things.  She said once they found the candy aisle it was all over.  I had mentioned Pocky to some of them and they couldn't wait to tell me that they had bought them and thought they were yummy.

After lunch before we started the second session I gathered the troops in my kitchen to try the fruits.  I started with the lychee.  B had made a fruit salad with a vanilla syrup using canned lychee and the kids all hated the lychee.  I didn't want their first,and potentially last, impression of a lychee to be from a can.  I explained that like eating a peach from a can and then eating a fresh peach, both the taste as well as the texture would be very different with the fresh.  I showed them how to peel them open and then told them not to eat the seed.  There were a few pulled faces and a couple wanders over to the trash can, but quite a few of them 'got it'.  They realised the difference and commented that they really liked the fresh lychee.  Score 1!

Next I explained the dragon fruit, showed them them the gorgeous inside.  We sprinkled it with lemon juice and I peeled off the beautiful fuscia skin and handed out chunks to the hands waving in front of me.  Approval all around.  The general consensus was kiwi flavour and texture.  Not bad.  Score 2!

I saved the best for last.  Hoping to appeal to the 11 - 13 year old love for horror and all things disgusting, I talked about the smell of putrid or rotting flesh.  Hoping to appeal to their sense of the forbidden I explained about the banishment of the fruit from public places.  I passed around the whole fruit for them to smell the outside and to press on the spiny outside to feel that it is soft inside.  The range of response to the smell of the outside was very interesting.  I like the the smell and consider it sweet as did some others, some thought it just smelled 'gross', the teen word of choice.  Others didn't smell much at all.  I laid it down on the cutting board and sliced my knife through it. 

"Is that how you cut it?" they asked. 

I told them I had no idea as I had never had one either.  I kept saying you only live once, you have to try everything.  I twisted the fruit open and showed them the chambers full of seed and custard inside.  "Cool!" was the cry.  I passed it around for everyone to smell it.  I have to say that the smell is indeed pretty disgusting although I really didn't get putrid, or rotting flesh.  Perhaps the length of time it traveled or it's ripeness had something to do with the smell we got.  Everyone made faces and winced as it was passed around.

"Alright! Who's going to try some?"

No hands were raised.

"Come on you guys, you only live once, let's try it!"

R went and got some spoons and I scooped out some custard and scraped it on to spoons.  One brave soul put her hand out, then two, then three.  Finally after the first person tasted it and didn't gag all 20 hands came in for a scoopful of the fruit. I can't say I would need to eat it again.  Rather like goat cheese can sometimes taste like a goat smells, with Durian fruit the first taste on the tongue is of a very sweet custardy pudding, the aftertaste however, is quite a bit like the cut Durian smells, a bit rotten, a bit stinky and not a thing I feel a need to repeat. 

But proud!  How proud I was of 20 sheltered eaters raised on take-out and restaurants who had never heard of paella or picadillo before this week eating Durian fruit.

Damn!  What next liver?

Yankee Farmer's market, LLC

On a trek up to Vermont his past weekend we spied a little advertisement in the Guide to New Hampshire Products and Services that we picked up in the rest area for a Buffalo farm & store.
Since we have recently become enamored with Buffalo and the fact that not only is it a leaner more healthy red meat alternative, but damn.....it tastes really yummy.

I have been making burgers all summer that are half ground beef and half buffalo.  At first I didn't tell his husbandliness that I was trying to sneak something new into his finicky dining repertoire.  Because if he knew something was different he would have done his usual 5 year strop routine and told me he didn't like it.  Actually he would have said in his Northern Brit accent, 'I don't fancy that'.  Fancy?  Who says fancy anymore?

The first time that I decided to make the duplicitous burgers I made sure he was out of the room while I mixed up the meats.  All I add to my burgers is salt, more salt than you think, and pepper and the, it would be a sin to omit it, condiment Worcestershire sauce. 

I called him upstairs just minutes before it came off the grill and placed it on his usual bun of choice with just red onion, cause he's minimalist in his burger accouterments.  Me, I waffle between Miracle Whip (Don't make that face! You never knew how good it could be until you try it and it blends in with all the burger juicy goodness on the bun...mmmmm) or sweet pepper relish with my red onion and a slice of my cheese fetish of the moment.

He took one bite, and then another, and then the food sigh came, then the mmmm.  When he was finished he smacked his lips and said, 'That was an exceptionally good burger!'.  Whereupon I grinned maliciously and spilled my secret about buffalo.  We haven't looked back since. Another recipe that we made first in school and that I repeat at home occasionally is for a buffalo shoulder steak marinated in red wine, juniper berries, jalapeno and onions, amongst other ingredients, and then grilled like a flank steak until just cooked on the outside and still pink within.  It is then sliced thin across the grain and the strained marinade is reduced to make a sauce.

So having now pulled husband over to the dark side I'm ready to try out new ways to cook buffalo meat.

We pulled off route 89 on to route 103 East and a few miles later we spied the sign for Yankee Farmer's market.  It's up a sharp right and up a steep hill that winds back to reveal the barn store and a fenced in pen.

The shop is clean and well stocked.  The meat case is full of frozen items and a sign board above lists prices. They have everything from ground buffalo to back and short ribs, top sirloin steak, strip steak, tenderloin and even buffalo hot dogs.  They also carry some venison items as well as ostrich items from a farm in S. Dartmouth, MA, which I hope will be a field trip for another day. Since we didn't know that we would be buying anything that needed to be kept we didn't bring along a cooler.  No problem, owner Brain Farmer packed our items the same as he would for shipping via next day air.  A small Styrofoam cooler was packed and an ice pack tossed in, he taped it all shut and even 12 hours later when we finally returned home all of the items were still frozen solid.

After we paid up and he was walking the item out to our car he said we could go up the hill and see the buffalo if we wished.  At the top in the pen there were about 6 of his herd milling about.  he also leases land at other local farms to keep his herd grazing. I reached into the 5 gallon bucket and tossed an apple in to the pen.  Two of them wandered over for sweet snacks.

No factory farming here.  I fed the buffalo and tried to scratch their foreheads, a few weeks from now I will be turning that package of stew meat I bought into a lovely buffalo bourguignonne.  It's a nice experience to see where your food will be coming from and to realise that if we all make the effort we can seek out and support these smaller farms.

Foliage season is fast approaching and I encourage anyone in the area to stop in and visit Yankee Farmer's market. Oh, and give the big guy an apple for me.

Gigi's mozzarella House

I have a confession to make.

My name is Jo and I'm a foodie.

When I get it into my head to make a dish from a certain country or a region within a country I always try to seek out authentic ingredients.  If I'm going to do it, I don't want to substitute some Americanized version if I don't have to. Some women like to shoe shop, others might like to trawl the stores for that designer rack bargain, me, I'm a relentless trawler of specialty and ethic stores, and garden centres, but that's a story for another day.

When I first started cooking Thai food back in the 80's I lived in Revere and the recent influx of Laotian and Cambodian immigrants to the area meant that little pockets of ethnic markets and stores would sprout up, generally in a poorer side of town where real estate was cheap.  Shirley Ave was the place then.  I would go into the market armed with my recipes and would have to point to the words to the young girl behind the counter.  We soon became friendly and she spent much time helping me find the ingredients, teaching me how to buy things, what to look for, what I could use as a substitution, etc. It was a great learning experience and I still do the same thing today.

I am forever telling people in school where they can find obscure or authentic regional ingredients to make the things we have at school at home. And someone asked me the other day how I knew about all these places.  So I have decided to start an ongoing feature here that will showcase the places that I go to find little pockets of the globe in my own backyard.

Gigi's Mozzarella House

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