Are You A Chef?

The other night I was talking to someone about TwinYolks, and they asked what it was about.  I replied with the basics:  "local food, cooking, recipes, my life, etc."  The next question, was, "Are you a chef?"  To which, of course, I laughed and replied, "No, not at all."  

And from that point on it was a little awkward, and it seemed apparent that I'd lost some "credibility", if I ever had any in the first place.  

Yet the more I think about how not being a chef caused a slight contretemps in conversation, the more I feel compelled to explain why I am insistent on repeating the great moral of Ratatouille and repeat with fervency that, with this food, "anyone can cook."  

You can cook.  I know you can.  Could it be possible that you don't have the best, freshest, highest quality ingredients?  Do you squirt your lemon out of a bottle or do you squeeze it from an actual lemon?  Little things like that make a big difference.  (Not to mention: How can lemon juice possibly stay fresh for years?)   

My "Person of the Week" (or, in my opinion, year), Michael Pollan, with his gift of clarity explains it this way:

"When you eat from the farmers' market, you automatically eat food that is in season, which is usually when it is most nutritious.  Eating in season also tends to diversify your diet - because you can't buy strawberries or broccoli or potatoes twelve months of the year, you'll find yourselfexperimenting with other foods when they come to market... Whether it is rutabaga or an unfamiliar winter squash, the CSA box's contents invariably send you to your cookbook to figure out what in the world to do with them.  Cooking is one of the most important health consequences of buying food from local farmers; for one thing, when you cook at home you seldom find yourself reaching for the ethoxylated diglycerides or high-fructose corn syrup. "

Go out to the nearest Farmers Market and buy a unfamiliar vegetable and figure out what to do with it.  The end result might surprise you, and re-infuse you with kitchen confidence.  What are you waiting for?  Anyone can cook.

(Well, maybe not anyone, but that is a huge cucumber.)

Above tomato/bread recipe is so delicious, and so easy it's not even a recipe.  Get a farm fresh tomato, slice over sourdough, drizzle with olive oil (and/or balsamic vinaigrette), salt and a few sprigs of basil. If you prefer, add a bit of your favorite cheese (we like goat).  Roast lightly in the oven and devour.

And have a wonderful weekend...if you find anything interesting at your local farmer's market I'd love to hear about it!

Oh Happy (Thurs) Day.

Last week, amidst the moving chaos, I had to figure out how to transport our above Thursday Athens Locally Grown pick-up. Most of our veggies were still fresh, though we’d been ignoring them for the easy bread and hummus stomach-filler. Yet, there was so little to throw away.

Our move was too close by to invest in a big cooler and too far to not use one since the heat has arrived, so we made a game plan: John loaded the truck with some of our boxes (thanks, Morecrafts) and blasted the air conditioning while I packed the veggies (I had fennel! Strawberries! Cucumbers!) in cardboard boxes laden across little ice packs. When he signaled ‘ready’ we raced to the truck with our food (milk, meat, eggs, too) and loaded it in the front seat, scurried over to our new abode, and fast-as-lightning unloaded it into the new refigerator. Phew.

As I passed my husband running to the truck with my arms full of a box of iced greens, he looked at me and said, “You look like you have an iced heart you are taking for emergency transplant.”

Geez. That was the first time I thought very hard about whether or not I was going a little overboard in the food department. It was June, and it was time for me to eat at a proper restaurant.

Everyone has their indulgences, mine being a big, fat, juicy chicken chimichanga from Auga Linda, accompanied by what we like to call a “fro marg” (that’s John’s cheesy slang for frozen margarita) and, when you are exhausted beyond the point of no return, you should have one. Moving is hard, and weird, and you can catch yourself doing things that people who aren’t in the midst of moving might call “bizarre.” I might have rushed my food around like an EMT with a precious, life-saving organ, but really, I was the one who needed a little (life?) support, and in the end, eating cheap, delicious Mexican food was what might’ve saved me.

Now I’m moved in, my kitchen is ready, and just in time. I’m feeling re-energized and today is my pick up day. Readers, I’m getting this:

Items ordered on May 31, 2009

1 x Arugula = $3.00

1 x Asparagus--Fresh = $4.50

1 x Basil - Spicy Globe = $4.00

1 x Beans - Green = $4.00

1 x Beef -- Ground = $5.00

1 x Bread -- Sour Dough Hand = $5.00

1 x Cilantro = $2.50

1 x Collard Greens = $2.00

1 x Cucumber -- Suyo Long = $2.25

1 x Dill = $2.00

1 x Hot Peppers - Jalapenos = $3.50

1 x Peas - Snow Pea = $3.50

1 x Peppers - Sweet Banana = $3.50

1 x Potatoes -- Yukon Gold and Kennebec = $3.00

1 x Salad Mix = $4.00

1 x Spinach -- Melody and Space Organic Hybrid = $4.00

1 x Squash -- Baby Zucchini (green) = $3.00

1 x Tomatoes -- CNG mix = $4.00

---

Total: $62.75

It’s true, they’ve arrived. My tomatoes, and none too soon.