The Perfume and Pride of Marjoram

Tomatoes failed me this summer. I had absolutely no luck growing them--an agrarian failure that could result in my being banished from New Jersey, so renown for this highly seasonal veggie.

My only solace is that my herbs thrived--basil, rosemary, thyme, and marjoram. Of those, the one that brings me a measure of pride is marjoram, since it’s a bit unusual.

I don’t cook frequently with marjoram, but some of my favorite seasonal recipes call for it. In the spring, before my plant shows any growth, I ask Jamie in Sickles’ produce department to order me a packet (you can do the same!) for two savory dishes that I serve at Easter, a ricotta tart and croxetti con sugo bianco (I just make the sauce; I buy the croxetti at Sickles). The herb’s sweet fragrance and sharp bite awaken the palate after the long slog of winter.

During the summer, fresh marjoram, typically used in Mediterranean cuisine, finds its way into corn soup and a Greek baked vegetable stew, a new addition to my repertoire. And there it is again in the winter, as my plant struggles to delay the ravages of frost, sprinkled onto sautéed kale.

From spiritualhealingportal.com

Why use marjoram? It has a heady, floral perfume and an unmatched sweet, citrus-pine flavor. On top of that, there is an element of romance, invoking ancient times and lands. Reading the Aeneid in the 10th grade, I first learned about marjoram in this passage (1.691-694)

But Venus pours gentle sleep over Ascanius’s limbs,

and warming him in her breast, carries him, with divine power,

to Idalia’s high groves, where soft marjoram smothers him

in flowers, and the breath of its sweet shade.

After reading this, aren’t you seduced to add “sweet shade” into your dishes?

If you are,  keep in mind that a little marjoram goes a long way; overuse can result in food tasting like your grandmother’s floral soap. But measured use brings enchanting fragrance to your vegetable dishes.

Enjoy!

Diana Pittet the cheesemonger with no green thumb.

Fragrant Sage, Center Stage

By Cheri Scolari

My earliest memories of the herb sage are, alas, not very positive ones.  I remember peering into an old Crown Colony tin in my mother’s spice drawer and wondering what that nasty rubbed sage stuff was.  It was a brownish green mass, almost furry looking, with a rather overpowering pungent odor.  I eventually learned that sage was the essential ingredient in our Thanksgiving stuffing, so I accepted its presence in our kitchen and gave it no further thought until years later when I had a kitchen of my own and started to experiment in the culinary realm.  I ditched the rubbed sage awhile back and planted a little sage seedling from the Sickles Garden Center.  This prolific plant grew like a weed, through scorching summer heat waves and monsoon rains, seemingly unaffected by the weather.  When my sage was buried by huge drifts of snow last winter, I pretty much wrote it off, along with the rest of my herb garden, thinking I would just start over again this spring.  But lo and behold, the first green shoots to pop out after the snow melted away were those of the determined salvia officinalis, the botanical name for the herb, sage.  Now, by the end of the summer, I have a mammoth sage bush, bursting with fragrant, velvety silver-green leaves, and I am adding this distinctive herb to all kinds of dishes, from breakfast omelets to cocktails and dinner.

I am not the first one, apparently, to appreciate the merits of this useful plant.  Sage has been considered historically as a cherished herb and was even associated with long life in the 18^th century.  As a medicinal plant it has anti-inflammatory and antiseptic properties and can be used as a compress to promote the healing of wounds.  It has been used as a mouthwash and a natural gargle for tonsillitis and laryngitis.  Sage extracts are known to relax smooth muscles (found in internal organs) and sage tea is often used to combat stress or digestive ills.  The volatile oils present in sage are said to affect the female system in a way similar to estrogen and may help relieve menopausal symptoms but are not advised for pregnant women.

Most Americans, however, enjoy sage as a cooking herb.  With its intense, distinctive and slightly bitter taste, sage pairs well with fatty dishes such as duck, pork, sausages, and butter-based sauces.  It is the defining ingredient in most stuffing and is also quite nice with tomatoes, eggplant, zucchini, onions and beans.  Just last night, I browned some chopped sage in butter and added thick slices of zucchini, baby bella mushrooms and tomatoes, and a dash of freshly ground pepper and sea salt.  We had some red Himalayan rice and fresh salmon alongside, but the sage added the interest and dimension to the meal.  I kept going back for vegetables!

One of my cookbooks with quick, reliable recipes is Fresco, Modern Tuscan Cooking For All Seasons, by Marion and Vincent Scotto, featuring dishes from the restaurant of the same name in New York City.  The Bistecca Fiorentina is a simple way to cook up a T-bone on the grill while we still have our barbeques fired up.  Heat up your grill until the coals are very hot.  Season your steaks with salt and pepper.  Place a small whole bunch of sage on the grill and a 1 ½ lb. steak on top of the bunch.  Grill for 2-3 minutes on one side.  When you turn the steak, the sage will adhere to the meat.  Grill for 2-3 minutes on the other side.  Leave the sage in place when you serve.  Place the steak on a plate and drizzle with olive oil.  Another one of my favorite sage recipes in the Fresco cookbook is Pappardelle with Summer Corn and Fresh Tomatoes.  You simply toss your cooked pappardelle pasta with garlic and red chili flakes sautéed in olive oil. Then add fresh Jersey corn kernels, chopped Jersey tomatoes, freshly chopped sage leaves, and top with some grated Parmesan.  What could be easier or taste more like a New Jersey summer?  And speaking of summer, try a sage leaf in your lemonade, lemon tea, or lemon based cocktail – that’s another surprising combination for the end of summer.  My absolute favorite pairing is sage and butter, especially browned butter.  A classic version of this delicious duo is Fettuccine with Brown Butter and Sage. From there you can build on the recipe, adding cubes of butternut squash, slices of prosciutto, or perhaps some boar sausage.

             If your sage plant grows anything like mine, you’ll have enough herbs to cook and experiment with throughout the entire winter.  To harvest the leaves, be sure to pick the branches early in the day, before the sun has dried out the essential oils.  Hang the picked bundles in a warm place to dry.  When the leaves are brittle enough, crumble and store them in a clean, airtight bottle.  If you keep them in a dry, dark place you can use your dried sage for months.  Sage seems to thrive in almost any condition so there’s a good chance that your lovely fragrant sage plant will survive the winter and once again be front and center stage in your culinary productions.

Enjoy Cheri the Cheesemonger!

Giving Okra a Chance

I was a little unfair.

At a recent Trivia Night at the Twin Light Taphouse, in Highlands, where I serve as the quizmaster every Thursday evening, 8-10 p.m., I asked the crowd, “Which vegetable, often slimy when cooked, is integral to the recipe for gumbo and is native to Africa?”

Okra--the answer that almost everyone got right--can indeed be slimy, but this shouldn’t be its single defining characteristic. It deserves more credit.

There is no better time than now to give okra the credit it’s due. Through the first few weeks of warm September okra’s in season and you can easily find it at Sickles and local farmers’ markets. I buy pints of it until it vanishes from markets.

I am not sure when I began to enjoy okra. For us Northerners, this long, elegant, vegetable, sometimes referred to as ladies’ fingers, is an acquired taste . . . and texture. The first time I remember trying it and realizing that Southerns consider it something integral to their foodways was when I was studying abroad in Rome. One of my classmates on the program was from North Carolina, and she received a jar of pickled okra from someone in the States. She was excited, as this was a taste of home that was impossible to find in Rome. Kind, she shared a pickled pod with me. It was alright, but I wasn’t converted like I expected to be. If this was such a precious treat for her, I thought I would be able to taste its special-ness. I didn’t. But it did awake an interest in okra.

The next time I recall eating it was five years later in Greece, when I was spending a summer after graduate school touring major and not so major archaeological sites with the American School of Classical Studies in Athens. Seated outside one night at a taverna in the Peloponnese, I was served a dish of okra, sweet and slick with abundant olive oil, tomatoes, and onions. It was this Mediterranean preparation of okra that converted me.

Back in the States I learned to cook okra in a similar way and discovered tactics to minimize its undesirable sliminess. Key is to wash each pod individually with a wet paper towel; don’t immerse them in water. Another method is keeping the pods intact; don’t trim them too much.

Another option is to embrace its vegetal goo. After all, this is what helps thicken stews, like the classic gumbo. If you can’t abide by this, you can find a cooking method that doesn’t allow okra to get slimy, such as deep frying slices or grilling whole pods, something I would love to do if I hadn’t put away my grill before Hurricane Irene.

Briam, Baked Greek Vegetables

For now I am going to stick to my tried and true preparation: Sautee onions in olive oil until softened and nearly browned and then add diced Jersey tomatoes and cook until thick and sweet. Next add the wiped-clean pods of okra. Make sure none are too thick or they’ll never cook through and will most likely be stringing and woodsy. Season the dish with a dash of hot pepper and cumin and plenty of salt and pepper. Cook until the okra is tender. I serve this over brown rice and top it with a fried egg.

But here’s a new recipe from the New York Times, that I gave a go very recently. It’s based on a Greek preparation of baked vegetables. How fitting!

Give okra a chance!

Diana Pittet, the seasonal veggie-loving cheesemonger

Happiness is … A Cupcake!

As I think about the amazing array of foods in the world, I would have to say that the cupcake rates in my book as one of the happiest. The mere glimpse of a miniature cake in a pretty paper wrapper, decked out in icing and colorful sprinkles, brings a smile to my face. Cupcakes take me back to bygone days of party hats and balloons, musical chairs and pin- the- tail- on- the- donkey. So when Carol, our Sickles bakery manager invited me along on a tour of the recently opened cupcake shops in the area, I jumped at the offer. I was surprised to discover that there are three new purveyors of cupcakes in Red Bank and one in Rumson. That’s a lot of happy vibes (and cupcakes!) I am obviously not alone in my fondness for cupcakes. They continue to be extremely popular in New York City where the renowned Magnolia Bakery and other establishments like Brooklyn Cupcake have been offering these diminutive treats for some time. They are even featured on Food Network’s Cupcake Wars. Our new local cupcake shops have apparently arrived not a moment too soon! Our first stop was Cups & Cakes on E. River Rd. in Rumson. This charming little shop is located within a larger gift and garden store, Entertain with Jane, and has wrought iron tables out front where you can sit and enjoy coffee and a treat. Unfortunately, the owners were on vacation so we were unable to taste the cupcakes. Our next stop was Sugarush on E. Front St. in Red Bank, and wow, is that shop aptly named! Carol and I felt like we were stepping into a 1950’s candy/cupcake emporium, with cheery blue walls, lined with five and dime candies, and cases filled with cupcakes and cookies. One of the owners, Chris, was very enthusiastic and took time to share the Sugarush

philosophy of providing the freshest products and giving the customers exactly what they want. The cupcakes are produced frequently in small batches and they also make “naked” cupcakes which allow the customers to select the toppings. Carol and I decided to let Chris pick the cupcakes for us since we couldn’t make up our minds. We sat in a festive, retro-inspired party room in the back delving into one amazing cupcake creation after another. We loved the Daily Special stuffed with Nutella and also the Signature Sugarush, a very happy looking cupcake with blue frosting that serves a nobler purpose in life: A portion of the proceeds goes to a different charity every month. While we nibbled away, Chris pulled out his laptop and showed us some amazing photos of the pull-apart cakes that his partner, Jesse creates for parties (including a very realistic athletic sneaker and the Very Hungry Caterpillar cake!) Before we knew it, it was time to move on, so we staggered out, a bit dizzy from our sugar rush, and continued on to Monmouth St. to the Cupcake Magician. Fortunately, we had already tasted these delicious cupcakes because the owners, The Nardini’s, had sent a big boxful to Sickles bakery a couple of weeks ago. Our visit was mainly to see the store and the cupcakes. While we were at the shop, which was lavender-hued and stocked up with over 30 varieties of cupcakes, we met Mr. Nardini, who does the baking, and his son who works at the counter. Mr. Nardini told us about his Sweet Charity cupcake, which is a different flavor every month, with a percentage of profits going to charity. We told him how much we enjoyed the cupcakes, especially the buttery, delicate Honey Vanilla, which is my personal favorite, and the decadently rich Peanut Butter Explosion.

Our last stop was around the corner on Broad St. at Mr. Cupcakes, located inside of Ricky’s of Red Bank, an ice cream and candy emporium. This location is one of four cupcake stores, and the cupcakes are baked off premise and finished on site. There are 35 flavors including The Real Diehl, named after the NY Giants player. The most popular cupcakes by far are Red Velvet, French Toast and Chocolate Overload, so Carol and I felt compelled to take those flavors back with us to try them out when we were not quite so overloaded! I would be remiss if I did not mention Sickles’ own cupcakes. We currently carry the locally made Cupcake of Little Silver, as well as the immensely popular Stuffed Cupcakes. Our stuffed cupcakes are made for us by Petite Café and are on Oprah’s list of Favorite things (and on quite a few customers’ lists as well). Red Velvet is the number one favorite flavor; a reddish cocoa cake with cream cheese icing. The 1989 film Steel Magnolias popularized this so-called southern dessert

by making a Red Velvet groom’s cake in the shape of an armadillo. Some say that the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel in New York actually created the cake in the 1940’s and others credit Eaton’s Department Store. Either way, it remains the most popular cupcake everywhere we go. By the end of our journey, Carol and I were nearly as stuffed as the cupcakes we tasted, but now I know where to turn when I’m looking for happy moments – to cupcakes! Enjoy! Cheri the Happy Cheesemonger!

A Taste of History: Hard cider, once America's favorite beverage, is making a comeback.

The following article was written by Sickles' Own Cheesemonger, Diana Pittet, and is featured in the September issue of Organic Gardening-available at Sickles Market

Fall is the perfect time of year to contemplate a glass of apple cider. When else do we have the irresistible urge to pick, cook, and drink this seasonal fruit? What I mean by cider isn't the sweet, cloudy beverage that we tend to buy only in the autumn at the farmers' market; that's unfiltered apple juice. I'm referring to hard cider, or what the rest of the world knows, simply, as cider. In the Colonial period and up to the middle of the 19th century, cider just meant fermented apple juice. During that time, it was the most popular and important beverage in America. The tradition came to the New World with English settlers, who also brought the seeds for planting orchards. Safer than water and easier and cheaper to produce than beer or wine, cider was typically the first drink of the day. For a variety of reasons, cider's popularity faded. Urbanization and industrialization undermined this rural drink, as did a new wave of immigrants with a thirst for beer. On top of that, pests and cold winters destroyed orchards. But the chief issue that brought cider down, almost forever, was Prohibition. After repeal, the cider apple never regained its gleam. In the past 25 years, however, cider has slowly been making a welcome comeback. For a while, there have been the sugary, commercial ciders that resemble apple wine coolers. Recently, though, traditional production has resumed, which means making cider not from apples used for eating but from cultivars specifically selected for the task. "Some of the best cider apples are so bitter that you'll wish you'd never bitten into them," says Stephen Wood of Farnum Hill Ciders in Lebanon, New Hampshire. "But they contribute amazing character to fermented cider." So let us reconsider cider, and not just for autumn. "Lower in alcohol than wine (ours comes in just under 7 percent), cider is fabulous during the summer because it is crisp and refreshing," recommends Sharon Campbell of Tieton Cider Works in Tieton, Washington. Available in a wide variety of styles, cider goes with an equally wide variety of foods. It's a natural with cheese, but it also stands up to the spice of Indian and Mexican cooking and the robustness of pub food. Seafood is a great match, too.

By pouring a glass of artisanal cider, crafted locally and sustainably on a small scale, you preserve heirloom varietals with enchanting names like 'Esopus Spitzenburg' and 'Hewes Virginia Crab'. When Americans began eating apples instead of drinking them, many varieties were at risk of disappearing. "Cider is a delicious and valuable part of our culinary and cultural heritage," says Charlotte Shelton, of Albemarle CiderWorks in North Garden, Virginia. If you've had a negative experience with overly sweet cider that tasted more like candy than an adult beverage, expand your tasting menu. As Bruce Nissen of Crispin Cider in Minneapolis says, "You wouldn't try a Chardonnay and then extrapolate that all wines were like that." With a blend of different types of apples (sweets, sharps, bittersweets, bittersharps, and dessert), what you find in a bottle can be bone-dry or sweet and fruity. Don't forget other areas of the world where there is a historical and thriving production of cider, including England, France, and Spain. Generally speaking, English ciders tend to be dry and crisp, while French ones are sweet and complex. Spanish ciders, almost bordering on vinegar, are something unique, but stand up to full-on rustic food.
Whatever the season, have some cider on hand, for yourself and your guests, just as you have beer, wine, spirits, and soft drinks. And if you are wondering what to serve at Thanksgiving, cider might be your answer. It's American, historic, and delicious.

Regional Ciders
"If you can find a local, real cider in your area, drink that one," suggests Corrie Wolosin of Farnum Hill Ciders in Lebanon, New Hampshire. In that spirit, here is a short list of exceptional regional ciders.
Northeast
Farnum Hill Semi-Dry Cider
(Lebanon, New Hampshire). Tightly structured but opens beautifully with food.
Original Sin Premium Cider
(New York, New York). Light and refreshing with a distinct apple taste.
South
Foggy Ridge Serious Cider
(Dugspur, Virginia). English in style and perfect with cheeses.
Albemarle CiderWorks Jupiter's Legacy
(North Garden, Virginia). Made from classic American cider apples and ideal for Thanksgiving.
Midwest
J.K.'s Scrumpy Orchard Gate Gold, Organic (Flushing, Michigan). Full-bodied and tasting like apple juice fermented naturally in a barrel.
Crispin The Saint (Minneapolis, Minnesota). Fermented with Belgian Trappist yeasts and organic maple syrup; a good crossover for beer drinkers.
West
Alpenfire Ember Semi-Sweet Cider, Organic (Port Townsend, Washington). Balanced in its crisp flavor and French and English styles.
Tieton Cider Works Cherry Cider (Tieton, Washington). Beguilingly sweet and tart and bound to be popular with guests.
International
Samuel Smith Old Brewery Organic Cider (England). Sweet and bright and dandy with pub food.
Etienne Dupont Cidre Bouche Brut de Normandie, Organic (France). Elegant with velvety-smooth bubbles and suited for white meat and seafood.
Isastegi Natural Cider (Spain). Wild and bracing but intriguing and addictive.


Photo from Organic Gardening