A Ballad of Halloween on the Farm

In lieu of the normal Garden Newsletter, I thought I’d enjoy the season with a little diversion-- PSD

October 30, 2010

Down the road that winds

Through Mr. Sickles’ farm,

The leaves turn wine,

Deer are at the barn.

The raspberries are plowed under

In the field along the road,

While the tractors line up

For their sleep out in the cold.

Old Peter Parker’s ghost

Watches over his dreams

Where October still haunts

Crimson skies and old streams.

The ancient oak has grown

A farm’s history in its roots;

Seeing soldiers- Indians- corn;

Rusty plows and muddy boots.

Turn to the left

Then turn to the right,

The pumpkins line up

And wait for candlelight.

Choose me! Choose I!

They beckon to each mortal,

For a spirit will come out

When you carve me a portal!

One old Pumpkin says

From his fat, curvy base:

“The spirit of those gone by

Comes when you carve me a face”!

Many have lived before us

Who’s memory won’t dim,

Through a pumpkin’s broad face

As it’s cut a big grin.

They say that old Jack

Became a lantern o’ gold

So he’d live on forever

And light up our road.

All Hallow’s Eve is coming

Down the road to our farm,

It creeps up the path

And curves to the pond.

The spirits of the ones

That came here before us,

Hitch a ride on the wind

In the full moon of the harvest.

As this night reaches over

The fields and the flowers,

Good spirits are watching

Our farm and our hours.

Patricia Dumas



A Cheese Lover’s Halloween





Double, double, toil and trouble

Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

Double, double, toil and trouble

Something wicked this way comes.

(From William Shakespeare’s Macbeth, Act IV, Scene 1)

‘Tis the season for wicked witches, ghoulish ghouls and all manner of spookiness. While our ghosts and goblins are prowling the neighborhood for candy, we can enjoy some quick, delicious treats of our own, while keeping our toil and trouble to the minimum. And why not choose some black and orange themed foods to add to the Halloween spirit? From smoked salmon, caviar, and pumpkin soup to apricots, Fuyu persimmons and mission figs, there are a myriad of foods to choose from. Of course, my preference, being a cheesemonger, is to set out a black slate or platter laden with orange tinged cheeses.

My favorite orange cheeses fall under the washed rind designation. Washed rind cheeses are bathed with a solution such as saltwater brine, wine, beer or spirits during the production process. The washing of the rind promotes the growth of a very specific bacteria called b-linens. B-linens cause the red or orange color and the pungent aroma associated with these cheeses. Although the cheeses can be quite stinky, their flavors vary tremendously from sweet and mild to earthy and beefy. Some examples of the tamer, less potent washed rind cheeses are the creamy Prefere Des Alpes from France, the Quadrello di Bufala from Italy and the delightful petite disks called Rouge Affinee. On the intensely aromatic end of the spectrum, there are two superb northeast raw cow’s milk cheeses worth noting: Hudson Red from upstate New York, and Meadow Creek Creamery’s Grayson from Vermont. At the top of my list is one of the most renowned (and aromatic!) cheeses in France, Epoisses. This delectable, gooey Burgundian cheese is washed several times with Marc, a grape must brandy from the same region, giving it a deep reddish orange glow and its trademark aroma.

If you aren’t in the mood for that much pungency, many other orange cheeses abound. Cheddars are often orange of course, as is Cotswold, a cheddar-like cheese made from adding chives and onions to Double Gloucester. Brebirousse is a rich, brie-like sheep’s milk cheese with only a dusting of b-linens so the lovely orange color is present without the aroma. And finally, don’t forget the aged Goudas which are immensely popular and range in color from pale gold to deep orange. They would be fun to serve with Miller’s Damsels, a charcoal black stone ground flour cracker from England. Or, you could reverse the colors completely and serve black cheese. Or I should say Blaack cheese! Two gentlemen, known as The Fabulous Beekman Boys, are living in a 200 year old mansion, running a goat farm, and producing a remarkable mixed milk cheese (60% raw goat/40% raw cow), covered in a charcoal black hardwood ash. You can watch the goings on at the Beekman 1802 mansion in Sharon Springs, NY on their reality television show on Planet Green, or taste this hard to find, much coveted black cheese at Sickles cheese counter.

In the dessert arena, the papaya studded Brillat Savarin triple crème cheese is festive and delicious alone or paired with Nairn’s Oat Stem Ginger Oat cookies. Some dark chocolate served on the side will be your contrasting black. And if you fancy a glass of wine, you can always drink Poizin! Armida Winery of Sonoma, CA offers this phenomenal zinfandel in a bottle silk screened with a skull (the limited production reserve is sold resting in its own coffin!) But lest you worry, they also make the Antidote, a Pinot Gris from the Russian River Valley.

So, put on a cauldron of steaming soup, break out some wine and festive cheeses, and have a Happy Halloween!

Enjoy!

Cheri the Cheesemonger

The Great Pumpkin Sacrifice

Riding my bike to Sickles at this time of year is a true delight. The temperature is comfortably cool, and all around, the trees, shrubs, and creeping vines are aglow with brilliant colors. Even the weeds take on vibrant hues.

Briefly taking my eyes off the road, I can admire seasonal displays of gourds and pumpkins on people’s porches, the true sign that summer is over and autumn has been embraced. In the presence of such beauty, I can’t help but smile, even as I am madly peddling my rusting three-speed bicycle to work.

I also can’t help recalling the observation of my favorite food studies professor at New York University. When he first arrived in the northeast of the United States, from the northeast of India, to pursue a doctorate in sociology, he was bewildered and shocked by his new country’s custom of decorating their doorsteps with winter squashes. In India, where a regular supply of food is enjoyed by very few, it is inconceivable to use food for anything but eating.

Here in the States, however, where so few of us have to worry about food security, we don’t think twice about using food as decoration. In fact, we’ve gotten so used to equating pumpkins with decoration that we’ve forgotten that these vegetables are actually edible. As a result, when winter comes and it’s time to put up holiday lights, the pumpkins end up in the garbage and rarely in our soup pots.

To show thanksgiving for the bounty of this season, I buy an assortment of visually intriguing pumpkins and winter squashes—e.g., playfully striped carnival squash, kabocha with barnacle-like growths on its hunter-green skin, exotically shaped turban squash, and vivid orange ambercup squash that looks like a spinning top—throughout the autumn and display them on my kitchen table and mantelpiece. Their presence reminds me of the wondrous beauty of the fall.

Come December 1^st, however, I show these innocent vegetables no mercy. They get hacked, cubed, and roasted for a salad with feta cheese and pumpkin seed oil, autumn ratatouille, spiced chutney for grilled Cheddar sandwiches before Thanksgiving dinner, a savory Asian-inspired side dish, cheese-y soup, rich risotto, a Thai curry with coconut milk and chickpeas, and a vegetarian casserole which plays the starring role at my Thanksgiving table. I revisit these dishes each autumn, and they have become just as much a part of the season as the colorful pumpkins themselves.

There’s not much worry that these squashes won’t last for a couple of months indoors, provided that the heat isn’t turned up too high (no danger in my house, where we rely on a woodstove). Leaving the vegetables outdoors, however, is a bit more of a risk because of the rain and critters. If you display your squashes outside and they successfully withstand the elements, then by all means bring them into your kitchen and have your own great pumpkin sacrifice. If you’re not sure which ones are edible, just ask someone in the Sickles produce department.

Sacrificing the winter squashes means that they will not have died in vain. For a couple of months they can decorate your home and then they can sustain your belly. This is a much more desirable fate than a landfill somewhere. On top of that, cooking your pumpkins encourages you to fully embrace the short season and to be thankful for our easy access to food.

Enjoy!

Diana the cheesemonger

An Apple a Day

Epicurious.com

When I was growing up, “An apple a day keeps the doctor away” was undisputed wisdom, not to be tampered with. Every kid I knew had a shiny apple tucked in his or her lunch box, a talisman to ward off impending flu viruses or colds. Most unhappily, I did not like to eat apples. I loved apple pie, apple sauce, apple muffins, and apple juice. Just not apples. They were so…boring, at least by themselves. Eventually my mom gave up on the apple thing and started putting whole tomatoes in my lunch instead, along with a miniature salt shaker with the little Morton girl holding her umbrella on the label.

I gradually developed a taste for apples and encouraged my own children to eat them. When our family moved to the Chicago area, we decided to take the kids apple picking for the first time. This wasn’t the relatively tame version that we have here in New Jersey, where the trees are stunted so you only have to stand on your tiptoes to reach a ripe apple. In the Midwest orchards, the trees are full grown with ladders scattered about, leaning against trunks or laying in the grass. For someone like me who is afraid of heights, it was a challenging but exhilarating experience to climb up a tall, rickety ladder, reach out and twist off an apple without either of us tumbling to the ground. The apple tasted pretty good after all that work.

My ladder climbing days are in the past, and I am content nowadays to pick my apples from the baskets at Sickles Market, mainly because I have fallen in love with one variety of apple that is not available at the pick-your-own orchards. Out of the 7,500 known varieties of apples in the world (2,500 grown here in the U.S. alone) I am smitten with the Honeycrisp. It is practically the size of a small grapefruit, a gorgeous red with green highlights around the stem, exceptionally crisp and juicy, and has an extremely long shelf life when kept in a cool place. It is delicious to eat all by itself, and it tastes even better when accompanied by a wedge of aged farmhouse cheddar.

tasteofhome.com

Kathy in our gourmet department combined my favorite Honeycrisp apple with Mr. Sickles’ home grown zucchini and created a moist, delicious quick bread that I can’t wait to try myself. She also offered this easy layered bundt cake recipe. My personal favorite apple recipe is my grandmother’s Apple Cake. These irresistible squares are perfect for breakfast, tea time or dessert, and are hard to stop eating once you start. As much as I love the Honeycrisp, you may prefer to use Winesap apples for these recipes. The Winesap is an extra firm, tart, tangy apple with a deep red coloring. I find it tastier than Granny Smith apples.

Dried apples are another way to meet your “apple a day” quota. Meghan, our cheese department manager, discovered some cinnamon dusted dried apple slices in our dried fruits and nuts section of the store. These addictive treats pair beautifully with gouda, cheddar, Cantal and other aged cheeses.

I’m having fun sampling all the new seasonal apple products which can transform traditional autumn fare into an extraordinary dining experience. Mostarda Mantovana di Mele Campanine (I love the way that sounds!), or Italian Crab Apple “Mustard” is worth a mention. This sweet preserve with hot mustard essence jazzes up a pork roast or compliments sheep’s milk cheeses like Pecorino Toscano. Wood’s Cider Mill Pure Cider Jelly is also bursting with flavor, as each jar is made by reducing a gallon of apple cider. I’m thinking this jelly would make an excellent glaze for Cornish game hens stuffed with apples and currents. And for a decadent grand finale, pour some Bauman’s Apple Butter over an oozing wedge of Fromager D’Affinois cheese.

With so many ways to enjoy apples this fall, I don’t plan on seeing the doctor at all!
Enjoy!

Cheri the Cheesemonger

Cheri’s Grandmother’s Apple Cake

1 cup sugar and 1 cup brown sugar

3 cups flour                                                       

2 tsp baking soda

½ tsp salt                                                            

2 tsp cinnamon                                             

1 tsp nutmeg                                                   

1 egg, beaten                                                

2 egg whites, beaten

1 cup canola oil

2 tsp vanilla

3 cups chopped apples, skin on

1 cup raisins

1 cup chopped dates

1 cup walnuts

Combine sugars, flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon and nutmeg.  In separate bowl, combine eggs, oil and vanilla.  Blend with flour mixture using large spoon.  Add apples, raisins, dates and walnuts.  Mix and press into a 9x13 inch pan.  Bake at 350 degrees for one hour or until toothpick inserted comes out clean and cake springs back when touched.  Cool.  Cut into squares.  Freezes well.

Zucchini Apple Bread

3 cups flour

1 tsp salt

1 tsp baking soda

1 tsp baking powder

3 tsp cinnamon

3 eggs

1 cup canola oil

1 ¼ cups sugar

3 tsp vanilla

2 cups shredded zucchini

1 cup chopped nuts (walnuts or pecans)

2 or 3 large apples peeled and chopped

Mix well.  Pour into two 8x4 loaf pans.  Bake at 325 degrees for 40 - 60 minutes or until done.  Remove from oven and let stand for 20 minutes.  Remove from pans to finish cooling.

Unwelcome Critters.

Garden Center Newsletter

October 7, 2010

Patricia Dumas

It’s not often I call a critter “unwelcome”.  I welcome most critters found in these parts of my yard, and home, knowing they were here before me. I think we should learn to live with them. What would our beautiful yards and gardens be without raccoons, squirrels, bees, butterflies, worms and the like?

But there is one critter I can safely say is unwanted and loathed. Even by me. You can call me Ms. Nature Girl any other time, but I’ve recoiled at them buzzing around me, and flicked them off my arms and clothes. You may have seen them smacked on the outside of your house and windows or crawling on your carpet. The little rogue is called the Mammorated Stinkbug. Shaped like a shield and skinny enough to fit into cracks and other small openings, the stinkbug invasion is here, and they aren’t even close to being a respected native.

A short history: The stinkbug is known to have arrived on these shores, in a box from Asia, about 1998. I opened a box the other day originating from China, and there he was— the dastardly hitchhiker ready to find a feast in his new world, and surviving for almost a month undercover through a long shipment process.

First recorded in Allentown, PA, the stinkbug has reproduced off the charts and is now in most northeastern states. Even western states are starting to see them. There is no known predator for them or their eggs in these parts, and they are reproducing at a fast clip. In some parts of NJ and PA they are epidemic—hordes of them swarming and desperately trying to get into warm houses for the winter. Known to emit a foul or funky smell when squished, these little guys have gotten a lot of attention and caused a bit of panic in some areas. In parts of Pennsylvania, they are starting to impact fruit production. The feed and “suck” on fruits, causing a bruise called “cat-facing” which makes the final product unmarketable to the public. Crops such as apples, pears, peaches, raspberries, cherries, green beans, corn and soybeans have been ruthlessly attacked enough to make an impact.

Long term management of this bug is a tough one. Insecticides inside are really not an option unless you consult a professional exterminator. The only suggestion the experts give is sealing up areas around your home where the little critter can get in—windows, doors and broken screens. Vacuuming them is a help as long as the bags are emptied right away.

There are horror stories from farmers in Maryland, Pennsylvania and NJ about crop damage, and the daily sweeping of thousands of the invaders off porches and house walls. In some parts of these states, the stinkbug has ruined 20% of the apple crop. It’s always something, I say, and I guess we can live with this too. But, who wants to? They stink, fly into your face, and I have wracked my brains and come up with a few homespun solutions since the stinkbug has arrived at my house.

I have seen many of them caught in spider webs as they try to enter the house. Although they look like a big treat for any self-respecting spider, the spider has a tough time breaking this little dude down. But, the stinkbug dies in the web, and that’s all I care about. Leave your spider webs up. Inside and outside. Spiders are ok around the house. Even inside. Ok, you might say “eww” or “yuck”, but, I’m serious. They don’t bother anyone, and the little stinkers get caught in the webs.

Another trick I’ve tried is putting fly tape or packing tape on the window wells with the sticky side up. The legs of the stinkbug aren’t too strong, and they get caught and die on the sticky tape surface. I’m no entomologist, and this is not too professional, but, it works. One by one, that’s all I want.

Beware of internet scams and so called “secrets” to permanently getting rid of this nuisance. They are all over the web, and they charge a hefty fee for pitiful advice.

Never fear though, our beloved Rutgers University is on the case studying the stinkbug and it’s destruction to NJ crops and invasions into our homes. On the Rutgers site page, Monitoring for the Brown Marmorated Stink Bug they ask for the public’s help in informing them when you see one in your area. Go on the site and learn more. There’s no cure-all, but you’ll always find truthful info there.

There’s a little bit of progress. Researchers are studying a type of parasitic wasp that feeds on the stinkbug’s eggs. This might take years since the wasp may prove to be invasive as well. The red tape goes on, but the Department of Agriculture is trying to get the bug reclassified so farmers can use stronger pesticides. $3 million dollars have been allocated for studying these pests. But, hopefully, this record year of reproducing bugs won’t be repeated. Whether it was the incredible heat, or just their time, scientists are on the case.

When you see the stinkbugs retreat someday, thank a scientist. They are studying this aggravating nuisance all day. Life isn’t as simple as it used to be, we are rampant, impatient consumers. Imports come in from thousands of miles away, and the incredible hitchhiking stinkbug has come in with our pleasures. Farmers say nothing will be done until Mr. and Mrs. “Consumer” can’t find their favorite fruit in the summer. Then there will be help. But, until then, batten down the hatches and squish them or flush them and hope for the best. Maybe China will check for bugs before it ships. Right.

Plums Gone Wild

Over the summer, I assumed, somewhat wistfully, that this would be yet another year that I didn’t pick beach plums on Sandy Hook. Even though I love the concept of engaging in the seasonal activity of harvesting local, wild plums, the reality is difficult to execute. Whereas going to the beach in the summer never seems like a chore, picking fruit in the autumn does, and I accordingly avoid scheduling the time to do so. Also dampening my enthusiasm is the acceptance that my beach plum jam has never been fully appreciated. Previous batches would languish in sterilized jars in the fridge and eventually get thrown out. One friend to whom I gave a jar of the deep purple jam accidentally spilled it over a pile of his laundry. Since beach plums are a bit too tart and small to eat on their own in large quantities, it doesn’t seem worth the trouble to pick them, only to turn them into ill-fated jam.

Beach plums were back on my mind this year. For the first time ever, in the spring, I saw the scraggly bushes in delicate, white bloom. In awe of this special sight, I encouraged myself then to pick the fruit come late summer/early fall. But a question nagged me, What to do with the harvested fruit?

The answer came to me last week when I discovered the largest, most dense beach plum bush I had ever seen on Sandy Hook. Not only was it big, but it was also absolutely laden with fruit (and it was clear of poison ivy). I couldn’t let this opportunity pass me by; not every year do beach plums make such a bountiful appearance. In case you don’t know the ways of prunus maritima, it is found only on the eastern seaboard of he U.S., from New England to Virginia, and it has defied cultivation, unlike other native Northeastern fruits like cranberries, blueberries and Concord grapes. Unsteady crops are the chief reason why.

Jam, of course, wasn’t the answer. Something boozy was. Last winter, following a recipe by Melissa Clark of the New York Times, I gave gifts of a kumquat-clementine cordial. The small jars of the fruity and spiced drink were favorably received––much more so than my beach plum jam––and I wanted to prepare something similar this year. In her article about the cordial, Clark explained that she had devised this recipe because she had run out of time to make ratafia, a wine-based cordial prepared with in-season fruit that requires almost a month of aging. It dawned on me, seeing an abundance of ripe fruit in early fall, that I should make beach plum ratafia.

Only a day after my first harvest (Sandy Hook permits one gallon of wild fruit per person per day), Melissa Clark came out with another article about preserving fruit in alcohol. Catching my attention was a recipe for brandied plums with cinnamon and vanilla. In place of cultivated European plums would go my wild Jersey ones. For a Caribbean flair, I might make it with rum and raw sugar.

For my friends who prefer not to drink, I’ll try my hand again at preserving the plums, but this time as jelly, not jam. This saves me the time-consuming and frustrating task of pitting the plums, which are about the size of a cherry. I can simply strain everything, including the skins, through a colander. This jelly is delicious on toast, as well as cheese. I will, however, pit a few cups of plums to make bit-sized cookies. The recipes for these booze-free treats come from a charming article about beach plums on National Public Radio’s Web site. (If you liked my last blog about lavender and want to cook with this herb, you can find more recipes in another NPR post.

You can’t buy beach plums at Sickles, but you can find them at the beach. If possible, make time to go there and become acquainted with this local fruit by popping a few into your mouth. If you can’t make the trip, Sickles does offer many other highly seasonal fruits, such as fragrant Concord grapes, which would taste divine in brandy or more sober yogurt.

Toast the season with whatever you’ve made or picked.

Cheers!

Diana the Cheesemonger