I enjoyed hearing a pre-Thanksgiving NPR interview with Mollie Katzen about green beans. Katzen, whose first cookbooks brightened up many meals at our house, threw some green beans into hot oil for a good radio sizzle. She suggested Dramatically Seared Green Beans could earn their way into a Big Meal because they are cooked on the stovetop and taste good at room temperature, two qualities that help reduce the anxieties of the final few minutes just before the meal begins.

I liked the way Katzen handled Melissa Block’s question about whether to insist on a new green bean preparation, no matter how delicious and nutritious, if a family could not enjoy the holiday meal without the infamous Green Bean Casserole. (Answer: Even with its canned mushroom soup and canned “French fried” onion rings, if the Casserole is THE secret to maintaining tradition — then let tradition flourish.)

With recipes like Crispy Edged Roasted Brussels Sprouts and Vanilla Maple Sweet Potatoes, Mollie Katzen’s latest cookbook, The Vegetable Dishes I Can’t Live Without, sounds just as rich as the ones that kept me well entertained years ago.

When my multi-talented main man made this beautiful bread for Thanksgiving, 2007, he may have thought about his Uncle Nate, who made challah. When Nate made challah, he may have thought of his elders, who made challah before him.

When we grow, cook, and eat food, we do what humans — and all life — have always done. It can be gratifying to know we are following the ways of particular humans who are important to us, eating what they ate. Given that this post begins with challah and ends with pork sausage, I must note also that we often find it satisfying to avoid what others in our “tribe” avoid. Some people, though, enjoy throwing off the past with its taboos in order to taste everything.

I think the present is the most wonderful time to be alive since time began, that now is the time with the greatest freedom and possibility for people of good will, and particularly for women. Yet when food is concerned, even though I loathe nostalgia, I value the past. More accurately, when I cook, I feel myself joined, pleasingly joined, to a timeless stream of knowledge and culture, savvy and satisfaction that includes past, present, and, I trust, an abundant future.

Recently I am delighting in reconnecting with a childhood friend, now an occupational therapist. She sent me an intriguing cookbook, the Better Homes and Gardens Heritage Cookbook from 1975. When I asked her to tell me more about it, she told me a powerful story about food and memory. I have her permission to share it with you. Read the rest of this entry »

When I made the first list last week of Thanksgiving dishes several cooks will bring to our shared Thanksgiving table, each dish started with a name, giving it a specific origin: Mrs. Moore’s rolls, Colonel Newsom’s ham, Elmwood Stock Farm’s heritage turkey, and more.

I love getting the recipes for once-a-year foods from my recipe box, remembering when I got them, honoring the people who cooked these recipes before me and the tables these foods graced.

This year I plan to make the dressing my wonderful first mother-in-law made. More than 30 years ago I wrote down a kind of a recipe for it, without key particulars like oven temperature — as you will see. My mother-in-law told me she thought the recipe had come from Cissy Gregg, legendary mid-20th century food columnist for the Courier Journal. I haven’t been able to confirm that, but I can confirm that this dressing is the best I have ever had. It manages to be both crispy and moist, with wonderful subtle flavors. It is delicious without the oysters, which is how I plan to make it this year.

I like that this dressing is made with leftover cornbread and biscuits, which Kentucky farm kitchens often had available. To use a phrase I heard over the weekend, this recipe also is a good place to “hide butter” - a lot of butter.

Cut up 6-8 ribs of celery from the outside of the stalk, and two onions. Cook with one stick butter (1/2 cup) and a little water until tender. Set aside.

Cook giblets, one onion, a couple of celery ribs, a bay leaf, one butter (1/2 cup) and a little water until well done.

Break up 6 cups of cornbread and 2 cups biscuits (my mother-in-law said she used more biscuits.) Add one teaspoon sage, one teaspoon thyme, one teaspoon baking powder, and salt and pepper to taste.

Pour in one pint oysters, the cooked celery/onion mixture, and water as needed from the giblets.

Mix very lightly. Form into tennis-sized balls. Place touching each other in baking pans. Bake.

At about 375? For about 45 minutes? That’s what I think I’ll try.

For the turkey? Lynne Rosetto Casper’s apple-y version that pleased us so much last year.

Photo credit: David Smith

I joined Slow Food Bluegrass when it formed in 2006 because of its principles of supporting and promoting food that is good, clean, and fair. I have enjoyed the small number of events I have attended. Just as he began forming our Bluegrass convivium (chapter), I met and interviewed the amazing Mark Williams, Executive Chef at Brown-Forman in Louisville.

Mark’s incredible energy and commitment have brought lots of interesting people and events to Kentucky, as you can see in this calendar of annual events. In the photo below, Mark, right, talks with other chefs who follow Slow Food principles. Credit Mark’s communication and persistent efforts with making sure Kentucky had the second largest U.S. delegation to Terra Madre 2008, a massive biennial gathering in Torino, Italy. As noted on its website, “the Terra Madre Network brings together food communities, cooks, academics and youth delegates for four days to work towards increasing small-scale, traditional, and sustainable food production.”

Three Kentucky delegates — Jim Embry (Sustainable Communities Network), Susan Carson Lambert, RE Strateggies LLC, and Bob Perry, UK Food Systems Initiative — presented short descriptions of their Terra Madre experiences at UK last week. I listened to learn ways Slow Food can make a positive difference in Kentucky.

This weekend I joined several central Kentuckians at a delicious, well attended Slow Food dinner on Foxhollow Farm outside Louisville. Slow Food USA board members and Executive Director Erica Lesser had spent several days meeting and taking delicious “field trips” in Kentucky. The dinner offered a chance to meet these intriguing people from around the country.

I came away with some new thoughts. First, in the world of Slow Food, our food and food culture — just like those in any other part of the world — are treasures, and are treated with respect and interest by people from “away.” Country ham in particular won lots of new fans at the Foxhollow event.

Second, Slow Food in any part of Kentucky can be what the community makes it. In Lexington, efforts at social justice, community gardening and orchard development, engaging more young people in farming and food production, and education for gardening, cooking, and food preservation all fit squarely within topics at the top of the Slow Food USA board agenda during their meetings in the state.

Third, as a Slow Food USA person explained in an understated way, both nationally and internationally, Slow Food attracts positive media. That cachet can be used strategically to shine a spotlight on all manner of Kentucky initiatives to cultivate and enjoy food that is good, clean and fair. Having Slow Food add energy and expertise to the accelerating sustainability/local economy movement in Kentucky can make a real difference.

Membership information for Slow Food USA and the Bluegrass convivium is available here.

Photo Credit: Achim Prill

After a recent post about local sources of lamb and goat, one of Kentucky small farms’ finest champions wrote me:

“I just got a lamb from Larry Swartz in Lancaster, KY. I buy one from him every year and I think they are wonderful. He is such a good farmer. He doesn’t sell at farmer’s markets, but just markets lamb and beef to individuals.”

I asked for contact information, and got it.

“‘Larry Swartz and Genia McKee have Windhover Farm at 4010 Poor Ridge, Lancaster, KY. 40444, phone number 859-792-9660. They have a portable sawmill and produce quality lumber; they have Percheron horses and farm in many of the old ways. Their food products are Cheviot sheep, freezer beef and dairy goats. Both really have a passion for the land and are good sustainable farmers.”

I am so glad to know about Larry and Genia - and I bet you are, too. We need them, and they need us. So how do we find out people like them, except by accident? How do we learn about the growers near us, and how do they find us?

About 18 months ago I had a coffee shop epiphany (always possible at brilliant, sweet Third Street Stuff Cafe near my house). I realized that people interested in local food — as eaters, providers, and chefs –  could build a cooperative, wiki-style website together to help each other find local sources of food, drink, and more - including music, art, dishes, table linens — most of what we need for living.

In 2001, Partners for Family Farms developed a Kentucky Grown Directory (PDF, 320KB) that chefs and growers are still using to find each other. The Kentucky Department of Agriculture has many helpful tools, including a directory of Kentucky Farmers Markets.

Yet it’s still hard for us to find each other. I have kept the early result of my epiphany up and running — or at least up and present in about one percent of its potential — but have not worked recently to get others to pitch in and raise this website together. We can if we want. It’s a tool available for use.

Go to Make Mine Local to get a sense of how it works, and how it could work. Let me know if you would like a personal tour so you can contribute to the website. I’ll arrange it.

As promised last week, I bought my first Hubbard squash over the weekend, but I haven’t attacked it yet — and the feeling is mutual. It has left me alone, too, so far.

A witty friend who is a superb pie-maker in another Commonwealth sent me some photos (including Kitty With Hubbard, left) documenting his success in taming an alien Hubbard into splendid “pumpkin” pies for Thanksgiving. The images are tiny, but they tell a tale: Human Conquers Hubbard: Perfect Pies Result.

In contrast to Hubbards’ gnarly looks, Washington Post writer Barbara Damrosch awards serious beauty points to butternut squash, another much-loved winter staple. Kitchen Gardeners International received permission and reprinted her 0ctober 30 story, which suggests two types of butternut squash seeds to order for next year’s garden: Waltham, and a new butternut-buttercup cross called Honey Nut, available from High Mowing Organic Seeds.

Photo Credits: MAR - Thank you!