A New Year’s Toast from Sickles Market

By Pat Dumas

December 30, 2011

(with Apologies to Robert Burns as sung to Auld Lang Syne)

                                                          

Should all your shopping be forgot

And never brought to mind?

Get the old things out, and new things in

For the sake of Auld Lang Syne.

 For Auld Lang Syne, my friend,

For all our Christmas sales;

We’ll take a cup of Crème Brulee

In the Sickles Market aisles.

And surely you will buy your pints

And I will then buy mine;

Of chicken soup and chili beans;

For Auld Lang Syne

For Auld Lang Syne my friend,

For cupcakes swirled with cream,

We’ll take a cup of Darjeeling Tea

And glom the samples clean.

We all have run about the store

In the days til Christmas time,

But now its time to save some bucks

On ornaments for Auld Lang Syne.

For Auld Lang Syne my dear

For a greenhouse full of green;

We’ll take a slice of sultry Brie

For the days of Auld Lang Syne

And there’s a hand my trusty friend,

To help you through your day;

‘Round pots of  herbs and orchids too,

And seeds for Auld Lang Syne

For Auld Lang Syne my dear

For those Chicken -Potted Pies,

We’ll smell the smell of Arugula too

For the love of Auld Lang Syne.

HAPPY NEW YEAR FROM SICKLES MARKET!

'Tis the Season to Be Stinky

Vacherin Mont d'Or
withcheese.co.uk

The scents of the winter holidays are evocative and comforting: evergreen trees; baking spices; glowing candles; donuts and potato pancakes frying in copious oil; roasting vegetables, meats, and chestnuts; blazing open fires--now I am digressing into Christmas songs!

One smell associated with this time of year that doesn’t make it into holiday songs is the pungent stink of some exceptional, seasonal cheeses, which arrive at market in early winter. If you don’t grab them now, they vanish as quickly as rolls of wrapping paper and Scotch tape from the store on Christmas Eve.

What makes these cheeses so special? First and foremost, it’s their seasonality.

It may be odd to think about a cheese’s seasonality. We usually reserve these notions for fruits and vegetables, but remember that cheese is also a product of the laws and rhythms of nature. Cows, sheep, goats, buffaloes give milk only when there’s a baby to feed. Dairymen stagger the breeding cycles of their cows, which lactate for 300 days, so that there’s milk year round, but the breeding cycle of sheep and goats are a little more difficult to manipulate, so there is a brief period when their milk is not available and hence cheeses made from their milk. Another crucial aspect about the seasonality of cheeses is grass. The flavors and chemical make-up of milk is affected by an animal’s diet. The first grasses of spring are different from the lush grasses of summer, and in the winter, fresh grass often isn’t available at all.

Rush Creek Reserve
www.chicagoreader.com

It’s the growing cycle of grass which affects these seasonal stinkers. The king among them is Vacherin Mont D’Or from Switzerland. What sets this gooey, meaty cheese apart is that it’s made with winter or autumn milk. Typically, the most sought-after cheeses are those made from summer milk. Think rich and nutty Pleasant Ridge Reserve, America’s most award-winning farmstead cheese, or creamy Stilton/Stichelton, the blue cheese typically eaten at Christmas in Britain because this is when the cheeses made a few months earlier in the summer are at their peak of ripeness. Why autumn and winter milk for Vacherin? Since it can get too cold in the areas of France and Switzerland, where Vacherin originated, to transport milk to a dairy cooperative, where large mountain cheese are produced, small cheeses are made at home in the wintertime, something so oozing that its middle has to be wrapped in a band of spruce wood to keep the fromage from flowing off the kitchen shelf. It’s so runny it begs to be eaten with a spoon.

You don’t need to be shivering in a farmhouse to get out a spoon and dip into Vacherin’s savory goodness. You can buy one right from Sickles. Or if you are after something a wee smaller or something domestic, go for its American version, newcomer Rush Creek Reserve, from the award-winning folks behind Pleasant Ridge Reserve in Wisconsin. This is the cheese I am treating myself to for my birthday, which falls two days before Christmas. Like Vacherin, Rush Creek is made with late-season milk, when their herd is coming off fresh grass and onto dry feed, a change in diet which results in milk that is too full of fat to make aged, hard Pleasant Ridge Reserve. Unlike its European predecessor, this equally runny and silky disk of a cheese, also girded with a flexible strip of spruce, is made with unpasteurized milk, which captures all the varied flavors of this exceptionally high-quality milk.

L'Edel de Cleron
www.tastingsgourmetmarket.com

Grab these cheeses while you can and don’t be afraid of their potentially pungent smell; their bark is often worse than their bite. Delight instead in their savory, woodsy flavors and rich, silky texture. But don’t fret if the time is not right for you; you can await until the arrival of Winnimere, from Jasper Hill in Vermont, washed in a Vermont-made beer and wrapped in a strip of wood from a nearby forest. Or you can settle for one of the year-round Vacherin-style cheeses, L’Edel de Cleron or Petite Sapin. They are delicious in their own right, but nothing beats the special seasonality of Mont d’Or and its American interpretations.

Be merry and stinky this holiday season!

Diana Pittet the Cheesemonger

Oh, Christmas Tree!

Patricia Dumas

December 18, 2011   

Or should I say “Oy Christmas Tree? You just don’t know what a Christmas tree means until you’ve never had one growing up.

When I was growing up in my Jewish household I was far from deprived. But, I was certain that I was totally neglected because I thought I was deprived, and cheated out of having a Christmas tree.

Every Christmas, we would go to my mother’s brother’s house where there would be a huge tree. My uncle’s wife – the gorgeous Ziegfield Follies dance goddess—was of another faith, and threw the best Yuletide celebrations ever.  Old German ornaments, cookies, dinners, poker games and Scotch were always on the menu there.  

As I dutifully celebrated Hanukkah, and was told I was lucky to get one present a night for eight nights, I still drooled and hankered for that Christmas tree.  “No” was always the answer from my father. He relented once and brought home the silliest cardboard office Christmas tree ever seen.  I loved it. I put presents under it like it was the most gorgeous thing every year until it fell apart.

 My mother’s friend Ellie would say to my dad at their 1960’s customary afternoon cocktail hour, “Harold, why don’t you get that poor kid a Christmas Tree?”  His answer was typically wry:  “Eleanor, when YOU put a “Hanukah Bush” up in your window, I’ll get a Christmas tree!”  Pretty smart old man, right?  That was that.  I got over it soon enough and after the sacred day, my brother and I went about decorating the outside Blue Spruce with tarnished tinsel from people’s discarded curbside trees.

 When I was young, in lieu of that almighty tree, I stuffed myself with old Christmas stories. I devoured the old legends of the Christmas tree. That was enough to keep me satisfied.  I read stories in a tattered blue Grimm's Fairy Tale book about the “Little Fir” who couldn’t wait to grow up until he found himself cut down, decorated for Christmas, plundered by children, and finally burned and discarded. That took me away to places and thoughts I had never imagined.  .

The Christmas tale of  St. Boniface, the monk who saved a child from being sacrificed in front of an old oak tree, and saw a small fir tree spring up to honor the event, delighted me.  Visions of ancient Druids celebrating eternal life under the moonlight and reveling under the spirit of evergreens and mistletoe was enchanting.  It gave a good Jewish girl the satisfaction of Christmastime.  I sang loud at the school’s Christmas concert, made sloppy Christmas cookies, tried to wrap presents, and cut out stars, snowflakes and the occasional menorah for my bulletin board. 

Now, in defense of my own selfish need for that long wished-for tree, I have to say that the Christmas tree is a universal symbol.  It may not be in every household, but it’s a warm inviting icon of the holiday season where everyone seems to be happy and generous of spirit. 

Now, I’m coming up on my own family’s 31^st Christmas Eve party. I always buy a huge, Frasier Fir that makes the house smell divine.  For 30 years I’ve hosted family, neighbors, and a gaggle of folks with no place to go. I always get the biggest Christmas tree I can fit indoors. We have a menorah for Hanukkah, dreidels, and golden covered chocolate coins too. The more the merrier, the bigger the better, and everyone and everything is included.

If you’ve bought a fresh tree, you’ve bought not just a tree, but a legacy.   You’re helping a farmer somewhere earn a living, helping open land stay open, and aiding the preservation of green places and earth-friendly practices in the farmer's domain. Even your local farmer, Mr. Sickles, keeps his land invigorated because you’ve helped him and all of us by buying a tree here. I know I would be more than sad if our farm wasn’t here.  It’s a peaceful vista right smack in the middle of mad suburbia. 

 After the big day is done, and New Year’s has come and gone, a Christmas tree does double duty in the yard.  Don’t be afraid to keep it perched outside for awhile. Birds will take refuge in your tree during the snow and cold, and the branches can be cut and spread around for a good, protecting mulch against the harsh winter winds that often kill plantings.

If on your tree journey, you’ve found a bird nest tucked away in one, it’s good luck. It’s possible that a song sparrow or a warbler from up north just might have raised a family in your family tree. For me, my tree is my wish come true. I’ve still got the feeling I’ve sneaked quite a bit from the old cookie jar.

Merry, Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and Happy Kwanzaa to all!

Nuts About Fruitcake

Napacakes.com; also available at Sickles Market

For some reason, fruitcake and Christmas celebrations are inextricably linked. Johnny Carson once said: “There is only one fruitcake in the entire world, and people just keep sending it to each other.” If it’s true, that cake is getting along in years, since evidence of the much maligned fruitcake goes back at least as far as the 13th century. The panforte, which originated in Siena, Italy, is one of the earliest fruitcakes in recorded European history, having been mentioned in the annals of the Crusaders. They found this thin, disk-shaped cake studded with nuts and fruits to be an excellent source of sustenance and nutrition on their long arduous quests. To this day, the dense, rich panforte cakes often contain 17 different ingredients to equal the number the districts, or “contrade” in the city of Siena. A non-traditional but nonetheless irresistible version of panforte is produced by Napa Cakes of California. This moist, rich cake is prepared in small batches and chock full of local ingredients such as dried apricots, nuts, chocolate and spices, but no candied citrus peel in sight. I would be delighted to find one in my Christmas stocking!



Stollen at Sickles Market

 One of the more famous fruitcakes hails from Dresden, Germany. The Dresden Stollen, which is still sold today at the “Striezelmarkt,” or local Christmas market, has a special seal depicting King Augustus II the Strong, and is produced by only 150 special Dresden Bakers. In 1730, the King popularized this traditional loaf-shaped cake stuffed with candied fruits and nuts and topped with powdered sugar by ordering the Baker’s Guild to create a 1.7 ton oversized stollen which fed 24,000 guests in a single day. The festival is still celebrated in Dresden annually during the Advent season to commemorate the event, however, the stollen that is now paraded through the streets weighs closer to 3-4 tons! The finest example of this celebrated Dresden sweet on this side of the pond is Balthazar’s Christmas stollen. It’s nowhere near the 3 ton mark, but this exquisite yeast bread is loaded with almonds, currants, tart cherries and brandy-soaked raisins with a ribbon of marzipan running through the center. You’ll want to order one ahead of time from the Sickles Bakery because they are in limited supply and sell out quickly.

For many families, Christmas just isn’t Christmas without the classic Italian sweetened yeast cake filled with candied citrus peels and raisins, known as panettone. Originally created in 15th century Milan, this cupola-shaped cake has always been a favorite at the holiday season, often served with sweet moscato wine or hot chocolate. The origins of the cake are a mystery, although many legends abound. Some say that a Duke’s falconer loved a poor baker’s daughter and wanted to marry her. The two lovers worked secretly at night, creating a rich bread with butter and eggs purchased with money gained by selling off the Duke’s falcons one by one. At Christmas, they added citrus peels and dried fruits and the bread was such a success that the baker became very wealthy, allowing the couple to marry.



 Pasticceri Filippi Panettone at Sickles Market

 I’m not too sure about the validity of the story, but I do know of a phenomenal panettone from a small artisanal bakery in Vincenza, Italy. I had the opportunity to visit Pasticceri Filippi this past September on a buying trip for Sickles Market, and saw first hand the dedication of the sons, Lorenzo and Andreas, to quality and tradition. They take no shortcuts in making the panettone and use only the finest ingredients in their recipes: Belgium butter, fresh farm eggs, Madagascar vanilla, Washington oranges from Sicily and Sultana raisins from Australia. Sickles Market is now carrying this hand-selected artisanal panettone for the holidays, in the classic style with raisins and candied citrus and also in a special version with candied orange peels and dark Swiss chocolate. Pasticceri Filippi panettone is a lovely tradition to start in your own home or to give as a gift. You may also want to try panettone French toast for a Christmas morning brunch. I have found Martha Stewart’s Brioche French Toast recipe to be exceptionally delicious and you can just substitute the panettone for the brioche. Panettone Bread Pudding is another creative way to enjoy this Italian Christmas sweet. The bread pudding can be made two days ahead and then reheated before serving. Add a dollop of mascarpone cream if you’d like to be extra decadent!

There is, finally, the classic fruitcake: The traditional dark, candied fruit-studded, rum or brandy-soaked variety. Queen Victoria herself received such a fruitcake as a gift and legend has it that she put it aside and did not touch it for a year. She intended to set an example to all of moderation and restraint. My guess is that she would have consumed it immediately with a glass of sweet moscato if it were a Pasticceri Filippi panettone, a Balthazar stollen or a Napa Cakes panforte. She most probably got stuck with Johnny Carson’s infamous traveling fruitcake. Hopefully you will be more fortunate and have a sweet, fruitcake-filled holiday!

Merry Christmas!

Cheri Scolari

Divinely Delicious Providence

www.ronsaari.com

Does Providence make your list of top dining cities in the northeast? If not, it should. It may be the capital of the union’s smallest state, but Providence has a surprisingly big dining scene.

I was reminded of this while walking around the city recently, on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. I ventured from neighborhood to neighborhood, on an all-day bus pass, tasting the best that the city has to offer and remarking on how vibrant and progressive its culinary vibe is. Here are some highlights from that day. Note that there are many other fine places to nosh in Providence.

The Morning



Hewtin's Dog Mobile



As soon as I arrived in Kennedy Plaza, the commutation hub of downtown Providence, I jumped onto another bus to cross the city line into neighboring Pawtucket, the site of the city’s bustling indoor wintertime market, located in an artsy Hope Artiste Village. Farmers, dairymen, and cheesemakers from rural Rhode Island sell what's in season, and local food vendors prepare delicious goods, such as crepes and cheddar-scallion scones. For more substantial fare, Hewtin's Dog Mobile, a roving project from the chef of the well-regarded French bistro, Chez Pascal, prepares sandwiches with in-house made sausages and cured meats. At the market, I picked up Renaissance Ricotta from Narragansett Creamery, which won first place in its category at the World Cheese Awards in 2008. One cheese isn’t enough for me, so I also bought a plain chevre from Simmons Organic Farm near Newport.

Afternoon



Tony's Colonial



Where didn’t I go on the bus in the afternoon? I first traveled by foot up Federal Hill, Providence’s Little Italy, to visit the cheese counters at two popular Italian delis, Tony’s Colonial and Constantino's Venda Ravioli, situated near the European-style square, DePasquale Plaza, and then hopped the trolley to go all the way across the city to Wayland Square on Providence’s historic East Side. Located there is one of the best cheese shops in the country, Farmstead, which celebrates all things artisanal. Attached to it is a slip of a bistro, La Laiterie, that highlights the best produce, fish, and meat that’s in season in Rhode Island. Cheese plates with a selection of fine cheeses, paired with handcrafted accompaniments and the owner’s candied nuts are not to be be missed.



Farmstead



I slowly made my way back to downtown Providence via artsy Wickenden Street, where I used to go for coffee at Coffee Exchange when I was a university student at Brown, and hip Fellini Pizzeria for a slice of their New York, thin-crust whole wheat pizza with butternut squash--what an innovative topping! I then walked up Brook Street past one of my favorite boutique liquor stores, Campus Fine Wines, where I schooled myself about craft beer in the 1990s, when the craze was just brewing, so to speak, and up to a very local institution Loui’s, a family-owned and -run dinner, where I ate many late breakfasts after late nights of partying. It was closed by the time I got there, but saw on their window that Guy Fieri had made this one of his stops when covering the Ocean State on his TV food show.

Evening

It was time to get the evening started. Back in my college days this would be done on Thayer Street, the commercial strip that runs near campus, or on campus itself. Rarely would we venture downtown. There simply wasn’t much there. But with Providence’s renaissance, thanks in great part to Buddy Cianci, Providence’s controversial mayor, downtown is now hopping. I had a beer at one of they city’s two brew pubs, Trinity Brewhouse, and the hopped on the bus to head back toward Pawtucket on Hope Street, to have dinner with friends at Cook & Brown, one of the several, refined chef-owned bistros in town that highlight local and seasonal ingredients. I started with a cocktail, of course, which couldn’t be missed here. The highlight of the meal was a custardy bread pudding with salted caramel. I would have been happy with just the caramel!

After dinner, we hit downtown again, cool and youthful Red Fez for bad beer (Schlitz tallboys), bourbon, and Brussels sprouts. As if I needed to eat anything more, we soaked up the beer and bourbon with cheese fries from the quintessential Providence institution, Haven Brothers. A shiny trailer truck located next to City Hall every night from 5 p.m. to 4 a.m., Haven Brothers is the place for the current truck craze and even for the great American institution the dinner, which began in Providence.

It was now late and I had to leave Providence and head back down to South County, the collective area of southern Rhode Island near the ocean. It’s not a backwater; you can get great food down there, too. Providence and Rhode Island are definitely worth a foodie tour.

-Diana the Cheesemonger